" Officially Approved "
by Suzán Jiván
Mom & Mom-
Mom Suzán
Officially approved
by the power of the absolute
through systems of vague rules
devised from illusionistic views
of our curvilinear choosings
via far-too-few opportunities
as super-human evolutionary cupids
moving with acute beauty
under eternal scrutiny of youth
engaging in quivering moods
in the pursuances of continuing issues
of virtue promising astute truths
as rousing solutions in exuberant profusion
all within our children's reading rooms...
Saturday, July 22, 2017
Sunday, April 16, 2017
" Undisclosed" ...
" Undisclosed " by Suzán Jiván Mom & Mom-Mom Suzán
Undisclosed think so? without a doubt!
drawn swords bent bows marked and reflected
upon gaining access to the commander
then letting it go at that in a blue mini-van
abruptly disbanded known here as:
"knockers gone bonkers" via visitor logs
and their redacted remarks onto non-symbiotic
computer punch cards representing more obvious
prior knowledges in the process of reporting progress
no holds barred but nothing in common
constructing wind farms testing autonomous cars
of vehicular technologies "To whom do the bodies belong?"
aiming to give voice replete with poignancy
breeding controversy plus culpability performing publically in teams
scouring galleries whittled down to a skedaddle like K9 tails
gone a waggin' with rhythmic musicality as admirable
actions waving off wrath as a master of branding in transit
creative passions increasingly examining
faith-based themes inspired by upbringings
and cross-cultural experiences running deeply in acid-free inks
seeking release as a means of empowering
women within the families of man unity humanity humility
curiously intermixing by eerily convincing period instruments
teary eyed and bewildering made for the missing slowly sitting
and carefully listening for undimmed forgivenesses "He is risen!"
stiff wings pale primaries smudges around the eyes
gliding on nearly flat wings generally silent at sea
loudly cackling while nesting on thin ledges
double crests kinked necks white breasts
barred bodies banded tails pale eyes staring
less agility while flying clucking rattling chatter
all across the lower Rio Grande's brush lands
roosting areas foraging for snails raucously laughing
clownish face patterns red crowns white irises
striking plumage designs juveniles' swooping glides
Black-throated magpies high strident rolling cries
feeding on acorns at night...
Undisclosed think so? without a doubt!
drawn swords bent bows marked and reflected
upon gaining access to the commander
then letting it go at that in a blue mini-van
abruptly disbanded known here as:
"knockers gone bonkers" via visitor logs
and their redacted remarks onto non-symbiotic
computer punch cards representing more obvious
prior knowledges in the process of reporting progress
no holds barred but nothing in common
constructing wind farms testing autonomous cars
of vehicular technologies "To whom do the bodies belong?"
aiming to give voice replete with poignancy
breeding controversy plus culpability performing publically in teams
scouring galleries whittled down to a skedaddle like K9 tails
gone a waggin' with rhythmic musicality as admirable
actions waving off wrath as a master of branding in transit
creative passions increasingly examining
faith-based themes inspired by upbringings
and cross-cultural experiences running deeply in acid-free inks
seeking release as a means of empowering
women within the families of man unity humanity humility
curiously intermixing by eerily convincing period instruments
teary eyed and bewildering made for the missing slowly sitting
and carefully listening for undimmed forgivenesses "He is risen!"
stiff wings pale primaries smudges around the eyes
gliding on nearly flat wings generally silent at sea
loudly cackling while nesting on thin ledges
double crests kinked necks white breasts
barred bodies banded tails pale eyes staring
less agility while flying clucking rattling chatter
all across the lower Rio Grande's brush lands
roosting areas foraging for snails raucously laughing
clownish face patterns red crowns white irises
striking plumage designs juveniles' swooping glides
Black-throated magpies high strident rolling cries
feeding on acorns at night...
Thursday, March 30, 2017
" On View "...
" On View "
by Suzán Jiván Mom & Mom-Mom Suzán
On view only to be forcibly removed
when coming to mind along ethnic lines
going on trial as stereotypes that just won't die
and many name times do not fully apply
unless otherwise indicated by illustrations
plus stop-motion animators on legend pages
represented by body length in the margins
seen as interesting hobbies like fruit worm larvae
and scavenger beetles feeding feverishly
on moldy material becoming hard-of-hearing
interpreting sambas mambas tangos and Irish jigs
" I'm getting too old for this! "
yet pricelessly intermingling with ingenious
hipness and dignity but broken by catastrophe
performing badly and melodramatically
deftly imagined via escalating battles
massacres assassins collateral damage
refugee camps on behalf of those that can't
handle playing brass in jazz bands of calamity
unable to curb dangerous heating on the planet
without rollbacks by climate diplomats
leading to collapse when coming under attack
then adding boobytraps with grim regularity
tackling gender gaps evaluating families
evacuated to Iceland with strings of scandal
overwhelmingly male post national anthem's blare
left clinging to unimaginable sadnesses...
by Suzán Jiván Mom & Mom-Mom Suzán
On view only to be forcibly removed
when coming to mind along ethnic lines
going on trial as stereotypes that just won't die
and many name times do not fully apply
unless otherwise indicated by illustrations
plus stop-motion animators on legend pages
represented by body length in the margins
seen as interesting hobbies like fruit worm larvae
and scavenger beetles feeding feverishly
on moldy material becoming hard-of-hearing
interpreting sambas mambas tangos and Irish jigs
" I'm getting too old for this! "
yet pricelessly intermingling with ingenious
hipness and dignity but broken by catastrophe
performing badly and melodramatically
deftly imagined via escalating battles
massacres assassins collateral damage
refugee camps on behalf of those that can't
handle playing brass in jazz bands of calamity
unable to curb dangerous heating on the planet
without rollbacks by climate diplomats
leading to collapse when coming under attack
then adding boobytraps with grim regularity
tackling gender gaps evaluating families
evacuated to Iceland with strings of scandal
overwhelmingly male post national anthem's blare
left clinging to unimaginable sadnesses...
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