It Started Small

Tingling with space,

Corralling chance.

Everywhere this is the cosmos,

Reckless frames and still art.


A rhombus of laundromat poems

In the help wanted section.

Like a scarf around a lamppost.

The stones near the sea are still.

But I imagine the birds on the moon

Are a ruckus.

18 thoughts on “It Started Small

  1. You are teaching me, Bob, that poems can be other than narrative – even quirky, subversive narrative: poems can be like a stack of cards, face down, turned over one by one, but read as they are turned, linked, placed, each successive one within the last like Russian dolls, like a performance-memory artist, and then placed about in related stacks, patchworked, quilted, spread

    ‘It’ may well have started small (ace of spades? … or anything at all that is noticed, by anyone, but particularly you, or me) // but nothing stands by itself like an island, it tingles ‘with space’, context, relevance, pertinence / ‘corralling chance’, like a fruit machine handle / and this, and everything else, in pack-spread, stack-spread complexity, happens ‘everywhere’ in this ‘cosmos’ / making seeming little sense despite ‘reckless frames’ of science and philosophy signifying nothing, ‘and still art’ that snapshots or freeze-frame moves, 24 per second … / ~ let’s stop and take stock before it all gets too complicated: / so things are adventitious happenstance, they do not signify beyond themselves except in their ancestry, such as ‘a rhombus of laundromat poems’ (beautiful), / ‘a scarf around a lamppost’ / ‘the stones near the sea’ are back to a whole beach of ace-of-spades, / this we know if we but let ourselves, but let’s not de-limit ourselves to what we know and let here, let’s ‘imagine the birds on the moon’ // in all their colourful ‘ruckus’

    that you for the lesson, Bob

    Liked by 2 people

    1. m lewis, thank you so much for the comment. I really like the Russian doll analogy. Without a narrative, I am always worried what holds the poem together. Is it images, tone? I love your reading of the poem. It has brought out things I didn’t think about. Thank you so much!

      Liked by 1 person

    2. Brilliant deconstruction. I think I saw that fruit handle corralling chance in my reading.

      And yes, a “rhombus of laundromat poems” (they do not signify beyond themselves except in their ancestry)….yes…..

      Liked by 1 person

  2. I meant to comment earlier but wasn’t sure how to put it. I enjoyed all the geometry that filters throughout this poem. And a feeling of wind blowing through an immense landscape. Man as a tiny dot in the middle. An image I’ve often had with your poetry.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thanks Sunra. Yea, I guess that motif does follow me. It reminds me of a movie I recently saw, “Everything Everywhere all at Once.” It’s very good, and deals with that tiny dot feeling.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Oh, this is brilliant! Only after I finished reading the poem did I appreciate the title.

    The lines I adore:

    Reckless frames and still art,

    A rhombus of laundromat poems

    And then the final three lines of the poem. Just wow.

    I love the work “ruckus”,,,

    and the title of the poem…leading to ruckus.

    Truly this is a cacophony of sound and cosmic circus. I can’t exactly say here what I want to express about this one. It reminds me a bit of e.e. cummings’ poetry. There’s a stilted, jilted aspect, touching on somewhere while arriving everywhere that reminds me of his work. His poems are like a planet spinning on its tilted axis.

    The last three lines are so good….I imagine the stones….then the birds on the moon. I feel like I just now skipped a rock to the middle of the ocean, and it sank to the seabed, maybe into a magma pit. Fire.


  4. i always get sucked into you tube after work. the site always creates me a play list to my liking, an algorithm we’re all under, a good one if you ask me……tonight i took matters into my own mind and searched out my own songs. it had a been a while since i went wu tang clanging and what was the first song that you tube delivered me by me putting wu tang clang in the search box? enter the 36 chambers//////// i think that’s the album and the first song? Bring on the mother fucking ruckus and i immediately thought back to your poem and so i came back and read it again and “the birds on the moon,” a big reminder of tomorrow, that there will be more……more ruckus and that reminds me of john cooper clarke…….friction is the mother of pearls. thank you Bob.

    Liked by 1 person

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