Aristotle Sinclairis a poet of neoteric contemplation.  He reads Duane Locke and Constance Stadler to ascertain excellent poetry.  His poems have appeared or are forthcoming at Writer’s Bloc, The Catalonian Review, Writing Raw, The Legendary, and several other kind places.  He has a mini-chapbook published “Within the Open Eyes” (Gold Wake Press, 2009).  In the rarity of spare time, he reads various texts and quotations from philosophers, and thinks Thelonious Monk is the epitome of a jazz genius.  He records occurrences at http://aristotlesinclair.blogspot.com/.

Two Poems (Issue 14.)

Three Poems (Issue 8.)

Two Poems (February 20, 2009. Issue 14.)

Clichés

Words of various species
have been hunted into hiding,
anorexic bodies of shriveled syllables,
saddened.
The mouth is desensitized
as denotation of language habits
falls into failing to invent
contemporary articulation.

Clothes of the Optional Reality

Night, as does neoteric youths
wore an oversized rendition of cotton
t-shirt, monochromatic boredom
which hung onto the underside contours
of arthritic knees.
Her thighs wore themselves as
bare bars of fallow soap, scented
with a name etched as clouds
into the plainest portion
of achromatic skin.
Soon, moon became naked,
her dress of aged ambulatory mist
left her body, draping the many arms
of a pine tree’s sleeping
torso.

Table of Contents

Three Poems (August 20, 2009. Issue 8.)

Perception of Recreating a Birthing Purpose

The apple’s red wears a glaring shine.
The only dim section is the lower case l
of its soil-tone stem.
The apple holds my palm, wears its crossing
lines like an olive-tone coat herringbone, draping
the shoulders of a wandering woman.
Before becoming nude, fulfills its
preconceived birth of dancing on one’s
yen-enthused tongue, I close my eyes to
lose a sense, heightening
the one entangled with the open mouth of
hungering need.

Dual Singularity

Her sleeping was an exhaling rose
resting beneath the unrestricted moon’s
shine into the bath.
Her slight wilt spoke upon age’s
wrinkled facets
prevalent among several species.
Her past was a vase of
translucent skin, shining,
improving gnarled petals’
aging manifestation.
Her past, the sleeping, was a stage
of experimental hair, red, an orchid’s red
among prevailing sunflower’s yellow
and alabaster boredom of carnation’s
pretty pink. The sleeping woke,
entered the cool bathroom’s terracotta tile,
witnessed rose’s predetermined aging.
She wiped the unscathed petals directly onto skin,
drawing with wrinkled fingers a memory of contoured,
dissipated youth.

Dual Occurrences Alive in the Gift of Silence

Ebony sat safely on the unsafe razors of a
barbed-wire fence.
Wind drew a landscape with innumerable hands.
Of a cricket’s green and the brown of a
mountain’s muscular ridge.
Ebony absconded.
Horizon remained paused,
epitome of opposites exhaling existential
harmony.
While comparing the ebony of the crow’s
visual leave, a crawling cloud’s thickness
decapitated the head of mountain’s
enormous crown.