Frank Cebulski - Humans have always wanted to make a useless thing.
The Truimph of Death at Pisa
The Tower
                                         Time locus is in the body's person
                                         Corpus force released at death
                                         Sonic throttles            modulates
                                         As distance darts (diminishing) between
                                         Pisan pomme and earth buried green
                                         Cemetery marble name slabs
                                         Given by the living as monument to
                                         Living science and progressive unseen
                                         Advance of inclining generations

                                         All those dead,
                                                                     the tower,
                                                                                         wanting to lie down.

                                         Off balance wavering, a priori sight,
                                         Tips out over, oblique and back, probes
                                         Where shadows rain.

                                                                                       Reason pendulates
                                         when death is near,

                                                                        swings its

                                         natal line.

                                         Campo Santo                           Trionofo della Morte

                                         Savage odors gaff the body's gravity,
                                         Drive back (trip) ancestral feet.
                                         Gay lords and gray robed ladies tilt away.
                                         Their thin hounds turn, sniff, test the air
                                         And Death steps forth            its bare locus empty
                                         Where understanding rights the casque of

                                                    and rat discovery
                                                    whiskers death
                                                    laps newness
                                                    that is veritas
                                                    in skull chalk paws

                                        The visitor sees vertically                    sees
                                        The horizontal dead

                                                      the fresco freckled

                                        imagines all that Death let stand
                                        (master stroke, residuum in form remain)

                                                         Galileo leans

                                                   on the world's

                                                bell and Death

                                            spins in in



                                     The blistered walls decay,
                                     Leave unreaped fields
                                     Perfidious in broken swatches
                                     Slatted off continents
                                     Viscid on moribund walls
                                     Satan marauding among
                                     Death's peeled cosmogonies.

                                     Wrought studded the ponderous doors
                                     Stand dumbly in the way
                                     The fervid expanse of newsod lawn
                                     Makeroom nature for the dead-in-stone
                                     And the numbing loss of place.
Campo Santo
                                    Wind turned now
                                    In ice and air
                                    The frost iron forms
                                    Interstice of space
                                    And framed landscape

                                    The flight of dipping birds outside the arched windows
                                    Beats a rhythm on the waves of the lake of the air

                                    The river a blare of light
                                    Trumpeting against stone
                                    Resounding on the water's glare
                                    The silvered flight's staggered flash
                                    Of doom.

                                    The textured twilight
                                    Sweeps the tower top
                                    Sky and cloud abloom
                                    With moment of reeling radiance
                                    Investing the earth's slight
                                    Tilt with paradise and
                                    Holy soil from Jerusalem
                                    Sequestered in silence
                                    For the sleep of death.

                                    Socrates' wish: To die knowing something more.

                                    The Leaning House of Torun
                                    Where Copernicus was born.
                                    Coincident vision of revolution
                                    Of imbalance born.

                                    Nothing but death
                                                                           is the battle.

                                    No war but this
                                                                            uneven cannonade.

                                    Frontier becomes what it has always been:

                                                                            historical declivity
                                                                            in time.

                                    And we depopulate the dead
                                    To depersonalize Death.

                                    The mongrelized dead crawl
                                    Horizontally up the Baptistery walls
                                    Crowd the Romanesque doors

                                    He comes to me in forest night
                                    Like moom beams strike with darkest light
                                    The jagged bark of trees.

                                    That is the way you are in scarcity
                                    And pavid night spreads the lawns with worms.
                                    Odor of mushrooms in fire.

                                    It is lonely here at Death's feet
                                    With fullness trussed in thought,
                                    My dark hair wreathed in guardian
                                    Care about the roots and stones,
                                    Your back pressed against my knees,
                                    Your head buried in my declivities.

                                    So that thirsty nature might her wet world
                                    Renew and fill to standing all her vesseled
                                    Landscapes' parched desire.

                                    Where her conscripts make the watching
                                    Sheep, the cattled hillsides sleep.

                                    Shards of darkness
                                    Where Death's shadow
                                    Moves the land.
Natural View
as the nearly new
awaits the further side
every window holds blue pattern
of its counterpane
the element of surprise
waits awhile within
its skies the trees
of hunter green
the cypress boughs
deeper upon the light

bring forth
their branches
their branches bring forth
red of bark
suitable to their
it were sumptuousness
indeed rich reprise
to muscle more their
dignity and couch
the eyes
the eyes couch

upon the bed
of memory
here their jaggedness
alerts premonitory
residence in earth
so like the master mark
to hit it so
wide but true
through and through

and beyond the blue
yonder imagination
incites the serenity
it invites
incites the mind to inculcate
its version connatural
with what we feel
we feel
innate passion
inbred love
love that we see

see that we
of art and art of love
nature the counterpart
to our desire
by a waterfall
baroque thirst wander
lust among the trees

species of our grounding
brook spring pool
lake of our inheritance
genesis by doing
among plants animals
swiftly starring streams
of our delight

below the plain I
see the lion lope
to his prey
obscured by dust
devils and drought
turn in a circle swirl
among whirled stripes
like the trees shudder
shimmer in the small hope
of wind
Elegy for a Beauty Unknown
                              Artemis               Astarte               Aphrodite
                              Look on stone and blend brushed hair
                              Spread in grey oscuro air

                                           about the cornice of a room

                             She startles purity and some unwashed pain
                             For an affinity of endings
                                           should not see

                             Fair blushed beauty and what comes before
                             Energy of movement against the tactile fluted jamb

                                           augury in bones

                             Two days she lay among
                             The cottered parts of human

                                           of bones and stone.

Here above unknown
What shall be known beneath.

                             Rain stains gray stone
                             Spreads downward from her hair
                             Fan matted in vibrant grass
                             Green darkens the cenotaph
                             Above her corpse because
                             She could not wait her own.

                             Then to rattle in the sage surveyed dawn
                             Matched in lime
                             Stretched fire
                             Forms in cloud close bodies

                             Gather to rightness
                             Execute for loss

                             The grave     gathered lot     trampled

                             Nodding and later

                                            redburnt the glowered

                                            acacias in lustre
                                            flourishing halflight
                             Blind even for Death
                             For the closed heart
                             Whose burning fondness for centricity
                             Residue of Iris in mind
                             Bridges the chasms that deepen in mourning
                             And falter after famine filled
                             Galileo lucky even in his numbers
                             4     9    10     15
                             Proportion of the degree of speed
                             To arrive by chance at the parabola
                             Of gravity that serves nature's need.

                             Toute mort doit estre de mesmes sa vie.
                             Nous ne devenons pas autres pour mourir.

                             Every death ought to hold proportion
                             With the life before it.
                             We do not become others for dying.

                                                  Montaigne, "Of Cruelty"

                             A hushed propensity for weariness
                             Weighs heavily on my mind:
                             Lifted by a flight of birds.

                             Death that comes late is never tardy fare.

                             Morte cavent animae, semper que priore relicta
                             Sede, novis dormini vivunt, habitantque receptae.

                             Souls never die, but leaving one dwelling
                             Are received into and inhabit a new.

                                                 Ovid, Metamorphoses, xv, 158
The Triumph of Death:
Hell Mouth
                            Spoteyed arms, greedy Beelzebub gathers sinners in harvest
                            Into his Hell Mouth, gaping bowels of eternal gestation
                            Damnation of endless peristalsis to emerge,
                            Impaled on hooks.
MauvaisesTerres/The Badlands
                            An eye through the window
                                      looks of caught-in-the act

                            deep embolus moves

                                      somewhere among the ease of living

                            a hidden space unfurls

                                                  solicitude of diminished


                                                  mark of evil eye

                                                                           one white brow and lashes

                                      constellations of raised white mesas
                                      calluses upon elbows

                                      and a fan, spectrum of green,

                                                  band of the iris

                                      still within the unclosed eye
                                      entrains radial chasmic light

                            In London once off
                            Russell Square I saw a frail
                            White hand with age
                            Spots push aside

                            A white worn curtain
                            At street level as
                            I passed I

                            Was unable to see
                            More and fear
                            Coursed with the knowledge
                            There was no more

                            That Death let us
                            See what is small
                            Weak and diminished

                            And an arm entering
                            A coat sleeve once
                            That I held stayed
                            Stayed my mind

                            At the disembodied
                            Crook of it

                            The inference of this wedded arc begins
                            In paleo-springs of an under earth
                            Transcends her moist designs
                            The vicinity of a circle

                            Timor mortis conturbat me.

                            Death the Taker.


                              A simple augmentation here
                              Descends as the moon a path
                              Of memory a shaft of light
                              Sends across the sea.

                              "I am as I was,"
                              The visitor says,
                              "Peninsular and
                              Perishable as the day."

                              Risk of the wave to rise again
                              Against the land and think:
                              "This all moves for me.
                              I am God of this

                              Individuality. I think
                              For all. No happiness
                              Must be but one I see
                              Irrevocably entwined

                             With thought of me."
                             The day amends and
                             The small sea wave


                                 Easeful Death

                              Wetness is upon the air
Wet color is in the air
And the brick seep turns dark
To the wall that shudders
Before wind and light

That lust carries prominence
By shape, transcendence
By vertical flit
Or the remnant landscape

To death.  To light.  The birds
No longer wing but harder strike
And buffet among boughs
The breath wreathes form

To sight, clarity of winter order,
"Send out the flame
Of your desire that it issue forth
With inner mark impressed."

Paradiso, Canto XVII

                              That season seize
Heart and head
Their inventory seal
By fire of their selfless grace.


       Special Relativity

Light glitters brilliant chits on confetti
Scattered waters estuary a diversion of
Light and smooth steel blue surfaces

Three dark figures converse form
Triangle of ease and occupation one leans
Back elbow on top wood grained railing

Another right apex gestures
Rolling circular motion his right hand
Turning stirring his information

The third leans long back straight
Stands listens to events
Mutely unfold tour boat

$5.00 CRUISE yachts in background
Peaked lights triangular chance caps
On concrete posts stately line

Dock a box of pink red white
Geraniums add foreground
Perspective diminishes to figures

Foreshortens through coned lights
To three thin smoke stacks across
Harbor before faint blue mountains

Behind buildings beige and orange
Bright blurry clouds above
Skiffs tatters white shards

Two street lamps wrought iron gate between
Pigeons bob shallow depth of field where
Occasional gull hover suspends the seen
       Theory of the Present

An Asian woman looks into the distant
Ancestral moonrise and shining bamboo
Waters on the wide river shimmer moon dance.
The light of many moons dragons,

Legendary Phoenix, thousand cranes
Happiness. Her garment of the same device,
Silken thread of rich gold sheen, colors
For godliness, longevity, prosperity.

The forest's jade reprise warbles in the hillsides
Across the river. Her primary color blue,
Blue of her vest, blue of her robe, gloss
And glisten of the kingfisher deep in her eyes.

Her eyeglasses rim the fiery reflection,
Red Viper at her footstool, her view
Of sunlit clouds her husband behind her
Oblivious to her vision and the Mongol hordes,

The passersby ideal theory of the present, the here
And now, god of commerce and industry,
Ledger and account. His green pen moves
Across red lined page, of jade its justification.


       Theory of Everything

The early method by lamplight and curious swirls
Of dust and steam rising from the cup heat
Flows currents over the glass chimney darkly
Smoked genesis of pattern and generation

Of convection turbulence and fluid flow
Dynamics of creation entropy and order
In the universe heat charged thermo
Dynamics and subatomic quantum

Mechanics of motion and unpredictable
Uncertainty of time speed and location
Planck's constant and the drift of stars
Planets in cyclic duration the still cold moment

Of the heart and unknown matter in circulation
The blood clogged vessels waiting abiding
In genetics and heredity their proscribed time
Dwelling and hatitation in the drift of things

Human and transcendent metaphysics
Of the molecule astrophysics of the atom
Early and late aborginal dreamlines
Tracery of patterns of the soul

Geologic striations body markings
Information pouring from the surface
Lip of the black hole electrochemical erotic
Stimulation and emotional vector of the mind

In the morning sunlight steam arises
From the earthenware coffee cup on the glass
Topped table in the spacetime checkered kitchen


General Unified Theory


Dexterous bright movement
Among hidden parks
Of dark imagination

Figure in a landscape
Shadows her idea of
Isolation and necessity

Fear of motherhood
Womb distended
Origin at term

Of fetal information
The buoyant weight
Of mystery engendered

Rock and tree
Dark companions
She acknowledges

Sustains in fear
With graceful gravity
Her steps impress

The soft warp
Of pine needles
Organic matter

Compost of death
And generation
Unknown desire

For procreation
Progeny to belay
Time's incubation

Forces weak and strong
Bind these generations
Their oscillations

Damp and amplify
Uncertain fetal
Movement other

Worldly synchronous
Parallel observation
At the close of day


These feelings both
Known and unknown
To me I feel their

Proximity in and out
Of time movement
What movement does

The future hold
Bold stroke of genius
And star intellect

Or narrow confine
Of limitation
The same mind

Stamped in human
Kind symbiosis
Of genetic pair

Or pear shape I
Wear the cosmos'
Vibrant open state

Periodic pulsing
Of our hearts
Independent but

One in time our
Sum of histories
To create a single

Path in human time
The past contains
The future holds

All my complex
Ethos pathos
In this child

Not all mine
Or mine to say
The hieroglyphic

Of the day
Daily life's


This cool evening
Quiet shadows
Are mine are mine

And his in present
And future space
And time diminished

To a single point
Of consciousness
That does not exist

As ever it is before
The wake of awareness
Closes upon thought

Imagination plunges
Forward dolphins
Playful cross

Cut the bow
Before the mind engenders
Ideas caught

In a net of stasis
Spume of recognition
The flying scud of time

While oblivion
Cyclic history
Concede the error

Repeat locked
In closed space
Curvature of womb

And placenta
Loops like veins
Of both hearts

Beat rhythmically
Arhythmically in
Personal occlusion

Shared experience
Of blood flow
And Ur-darkness


This palpable
Darkness in liquid
World where sounds

Transfer to heart
And lungs breathe
Vibrant quake

Proximity of voice
Surge of blood
Flow the swish

Swish wish
Of harmony
Patient foreknowledge

Of birth right
Human hegemony
Spiral of spacetime

Action at a distance
Motherly love
As intermediary

Why should she
Not love me I
Am hers as ever

Determined secondary
Cause and effect
Of primary motion

Of God's intention
His idea before time
Absolute expression

Timeless intervention
No time before or
After creation

At what precise
Place does this happen
Where sperm

Penetrate ovum
And the whole cosmos
Dances in motion


Anthropic question
From anthropic

Power of symbol
Abstract thought
Analogy and metaphor

Beauty and strength
Of graceful line
Curve of horse's mane

Color of ash
And ginger
Iconic power

Over nature gods
Spirits and Other
Exists without within

To enforce the Self
Presence permanent
To ornament

For recognition
Of place status pace
To conquer time

Time is change
Measure indifferent
Than was and now

Ornament and tool
For human use
Human declaration

We have therefore
Always wanted to
Make a useless thing

Something out of time
Existence without purpose
Without meaning


Que buena! what
A good thing life is
Voices without shout

Voices within confirm
Validating our event
Horizon in time

History of our place
Our effect on others
Though times change

Moments falter and
The bright green waves
Crest ever in motion

Though nor shore
Nor wave is ever
The same wave

The same shore
Shifting forever
As new motion

In the mind of God
We are all equal
The small sweep

Curving on the sand
Expending the galactic
Whirl whose starry

Outliers spin
Wheel about the still
Center holding

Elusive illusion
All things in balance
Dark matter

Antimatter and all
Possible histories
Converge join

Form the time string
Space possible for
Only this then and now


Beauty engenders science
Engenders vision
Who ever heard

This is an ugly equation
All fact is abhorrent to me
Accuracy is folly
Yet uncertainty rules
As uncertainly we
Cluster and breed
Among the minuscule
Inside the Big Bang
Circus evasions and eons
Past kenning
Our weak anthropod
Yearning ego
Centric posturing
Wild blue wonder
Cosmic expansion
Quantum contraction
The Ice Age not even
In collective memory
And no one to talk to
The Aboriginals dreaming
The quipus unraveled
Destroyed codices
We guessing at their meaning
Holding the elephant’s tail
Following the dinosaur’s
Trail from cataclysm to
Environmental discharge
Lately the evolutionary
Morning lengthens as
The evening darkens quicker
Quietly we ignore
Our demise the African
Sunrise of our origin
Dark matter sustains
Me and the universe
Asleep in motion
Reckless wonder
Of creation the chance
Encounter of mind
In matter glorious
Light scattered
Indiscriminately as seed
In cosmic wind
Star storm sunspots
Galactic explosion
To us unknown before
But after perceived
As received dogma
Of energy in mass
Velocity of light
Ultimate limitation
For the physical
Though thought
Takes us places us
Where we will at will
Without limit except
By definition of self
Restriction of vision
Self-imposed imagination
Delimiting regard
Subconscious occlusion
Otherwise we can be
Or seem to be at place
And time of volition
At will with death
Our great exception
Delusion of Being
And Seeming in
Synchronous confusion
Confessio amantis
Confession of love
A loving concession
To authority and author
Auctoritate et autor
In one person
Divine inspiration
And origin
Ultimate authority of
Personality ego
Sum proliferation of thought
Reason that governs
And holds bold
Thought in place
Out of time
Out of mind
Time out of mind
The eternal a-historical
Our weapon of choice
Discovery invention
Momentous endeavor
Specializing the past
So the future remains
General unaccountable
The smooth rounded stone
Stippled granite of glacial flow
Steady in the swift stream
Wearing but resisting
Holding the delusional
Hope of rising up in time
Of need and crisis
To block the flow
Stay history and human
Genetic code counter
To avert life’s path and
Reverse biologic clock


Time is of the moment
The  moment past
Redemption of white

Clustered dogwood blossoms
Resplendent in sunlight
Location and chance

Encounter with earth's
Proclivities and geologic
Inclination and declination

Of the planets
Angle of the Encliptic
Winter and summer solstice

You are as a burning
Moment pivot of
Light and dark

Centripetal pulsations
Of the pure heart
Momentum of mind

And body celestial
Constellation of memory
Mythos of the dark wood

And ancient gods
Chthonic by origin
Ruling by proximity

These feelings exert
A powerful attraction
Manifest by moonlight

The shadows speak
What they know
The trees tell

Guardian spirits
Secrets my sentiments
Derive garner

Deep well-being
The purple rose
Of contemplation


 (WIP--to be continued)
© 2000-2018 Frank Cebulski Light ۰ Gravity Press