:waldmanmelnov19.jpg

                         (Photo of Dr. Mel Waldman)

 

 

 

WAITING

 

FOR

 

XES

 

 

 (on reading Lawrence FerlinghettiŐs poem I Am Waiting)

 

 

Waiting

for XES

 

perched

on a dream

 

swirling

in sweet phantasmagoria

 

floating

rushing

 

&

dancing

 

on

rolling brainwaves

 

whirling

& waiting for the unfathomable

 

 

Waiting

for the succulent secret of Existence

 

the

holy voice

 

plucked

from the Tree of Life

the

holy voice

 

plummeting

to luscious earth

 

&

pirouetting

 

across

the sacred Garden

 

into

a metaphysical hole

 

&

vanishing

 

waiting

for the holy voice

 

to

utter Revelations

 

&

the Word

 

&

XES

 

 

Waiting

for the death of Death

 

with

a chocolate pill

 

or

a vanilla milkshake

 

for

a young old man

 

plays

a parlor game

 

of

Heaven & Hell

 

&

with a potent Lilliputian pinky

 

pushes

4 puny plastic Horsemen

 

over

a makeshift paper cliff

 

giving

birth to yesterdayŐs child

 

waiting

for peace of mind

 

&

peace on earth

 

in

the wilds of the universe

 

Waiting

to hear the cosmic song of XES

 

&

the rhapsody of Old Brooklyn

 

the

jazzy juicy serenade

 

the

seething seascape

 

&

the soothing cacophony of Coney Island

 

the

dreamer returns to Dreamland

 

finds

soul-boy

 

 

inside

his shattered skin

 

beautiful phantom

 

laughing

in Luna Park

 

dancing

on the Boardwalk

 

sailing

on the Cyclone

 

whirling

on the Wonder Wheel

 

&

plummeting down the Parachute Jump

 

into

Inner Space

 

&

oblivion

 

 

Waiting

for the Unfathomable

 

as

the womb of the universe opens up

 

I

rush slowly

 

to

the glorious dream of XES

 

on

my otherworldly voyage

 

&

sit on the Coney Island pier

 

 

by

the sacred sea

 

in

search of a blessing & prophecy

 

&

gaze at the eerie ethereal jetty

 

drifting

into the dazzling delirious Atlantic Ocean

 

a

kaleidoscope of chimerical enchantment

 

&

ponder the resurrection

 

swallow

celestial visions

 

taste

the rebirth

 

devour

trauma

 

&

hear the music of transcendence

 

as

it envelopes & engulfs

 

the

tempest of human consciousness

 

&

the swirl of agony

 

the

haunting horrific shroud of pain

 

the

bestial shrieks within the symphony of sin

 

 

&

I am

 

bathed

in an opalescent ocean

 

of

metaphysical rhapsody

 

in

my Coney Island haven

 

waiting

for redemption and salvation

 

atonement

& forgiveness

 

perched

on the Tree of Life

 

in

the glittering Garden of the Unknowable

 

burgeoning

& blossoming

 

&

swirling around the 10 holy spheres

 

tasting

the celestial notes of rebirth

 

&

waiting for XES

 

 

 

 

 

 

POEM

 

EX NIHILO

 

 

(on reading Mark IrwinŐs poem-

Sometimes,

an ars poetica)

 

 

Before

Creation

 

Poem

Ex Nihilo

 

sleeps

in the cradle

 

of

celestial non-being

 

beautiful

baby

 

phantom

child

 

rocking

back & forth

 

&

whirling

 

in

the wilds of the womb

 

waiting

to be born

 

hungry

thirsty

 

for

the WORD

 

 

Some

time ago

 

inside

the cornucopia

 

of

cosmic visions

 

&

prophetic dreams

 

within

the vastness

 

of

sweet phantasmagoria

 

our

Lady of Illumination

 

deep

within the dark delirious

 

Freudian

Id

 

hidden

from holy consciousness

 

Poem

Ex Nihilo

 

flows

furiously

 

on

otherworldly waves

 

rising

through the seething sultry

 

Unconscious

 

into

fantastic Awareness

 

&

the Bizarro mirror

 

of

the bestial mind

 

 

Before

Creation

 

I

traveled to selcouth places

 

to

taste the cool opalescent sea

 

&

the turquoise sky

 

&

inhale the dazzling white light

 

of

divinity

 

&

seek the mystical scent of

 

&

discover

 

the

metaphysical beauty

 

&

touch the sacred secret

 

 

non-organisms

of

 

my

magical blank books

 

kaleidoscopic

kinetic non-creatures

 

beckoning

& blessing me

 

with

the sensuous seductive smell

 

of

lascivious black leather

 

or

seething sultry red leather

 

evoking

earthy memories

 

carnal secrets

saturated with phantom sin

 

&

crimson redemption

 

&

anointing me

 

with

the phantasmagoric scent

 

of

celestial brown leather

 

or

beatific purple leather

 

pointing

to the Heavens

 

 

Before

Creation

 

I

traveled far

 

to

find & touch

 

my

magical blank books

 

&

taste juicy

 

Jungian archetypes

 

stubbornly

stuck to human DNA

 

like

primordial bubble gum

 

dangling

from a burning bush

 

in

the holy Garden

 

&

inhale hallucinatory visions

 

of

the Tree of Life

 

with

the 10 sacred sefirot

 

10

divine spheres

 

of

unbearable light

 

&

smell the phantasmal Tree

&

the soothing hypnotic aroma

 

of

hazelnut coffee

 

wafting

around me

 

&

in my brown whip-stitched journal

 

Medieval

Italian masterpiece

 

of 

potentiality

 

&

watch the holy sounds of the Kabbalistic

 

Book of Formation

 

the

Sefer Yetzirah  

 

dance

the delirious dance of divinity

 

&

reveal Creation

 

 

&

now I rush slowly through the invisible universe

 

of

my mind

 

where

Poem Ex Nihilo

 

sleeps

in the sea of nothingness

 

 

&

suddenly I caress my precious Tree of Life journal

 

enter

its eerie emptiness

 

plummet

into the vastness

 

&

vanish in the ivory landscape

 

&

drink its preternatural light

 

&

dream fantastic dreams

 

&

scribble sacred letter/words

 

giving

birth to my beautiful unfathomable

 

Poem, Ex Nihilo

 

but

mourning the unbearable loss/death of part of me

 

the

celestial stranger

 

from

beyond

 

 

 

 

SWEET PHANTASMAGORIA

 

FLOWER

 

OF

 

METAMORPHOSIS

 

&

 

THE FANTASTIC VOYAGE

 

INTO

 

KAFKAŐS MAGICAL MIRROR

 

 

 

Inside

the circular night

 

a

celestial dream grows

 

on

a turquoise windowsill

 

&

blossoms into a mammoth multicolored flower of metamorphosis

 

named

Sweet Phantasmagoria Our Holy Lady of Dreams & Otherworldly Visions

 

 

 

flowing

freely

 

within

the Lilliputian Room of Eternity

&

there

 

in

a corner

 

of

the phantom room

 

KafkaŐs magical mirror swirls & spirals toward Our Sacred Lady

 

 

 

&

mid-air

 

in

nowhere

 

Sweet

Phantasmagoria

 

whirls

into KŐs galaxy

 

gallops

into Un-Reality on a Spanish Mustang gorgeous palomino

 

&

swallows the concave universe

 

 

 

with

eerie eyes on fire

 

exploding

with desire

 

as

She gazes into the mirrored abyss

 

 

 

&

this is the luminous moment the metaphysical scent of metamorphosis

 

the

unfathomable taste of the opalescent flower

 

 

 

plummeting

into otherworldly nothingness

 

eating

barren truth

 

with

the preternatural power

 

of

Sweet PhantasmagoriaŐs eerie eyes sailing into KafkaŐs magical mirror

 

 

 

discovering

identity in metamorphosis

 

&

fulfilling destiny

 

in

the apocalyptic solitude of Hell

 

or

the blessings of divinity

 

 

 

 

 

 

BIZARRO NIGHTS

 

ON

 

MALLORY SQUARE

 

 

Bizarro

nights on Mallory Square

 

the

bestial beauty

 

&

the fantastic fury

 

of

the otherworldly gathering

 

of

strangers in search of Un-Reality

 

 

 

&

phantom visitors

 

coming

forth from everywhere & nowhere

 

craving

the unfathomable

 

&

an eerie everlasting moment of ecstasy

 

 

 

&

haunted souls

 

hungry

for the taste of sweet phantasmagoria

 

&

a sensuous divinity with tongues swirling

 

&

swishing in the celestial opalescence of a dream

 

 

 

&

voluptuous lips

 

&

oval chasms of the Apocalypse

 

devouring

a beautiful madness

 

biting

& chewing the ineffable

 

drinking

a kaleidoscope of illusions

 

&

swallowing the mystical light by the Gulf of Mexico

 

while

the invisible universe rushes slowly across the teeming docks

 

 

 

Bizarro

nights on Mallory Square

 

&

lost beings & non-beings & creatures of obscurity

 

bathed

in divine luminescence

watch

the metaphysical Show of Un-Reality

 

&

wait for a glorious sunset

 

&

revelations from beyond or within

 

 

 

 

 

 

I

 

AM

 

ENOLA

 

 

I

am Enola

 

after dark below the Coney Island Boardwalk bloated with emptiness & bereft of old blessings-the celestial visions of a child gold eyes gazing at a cosmic panorama creatures of obscure beauty grinning wisely at the lost boy & a kaleidoscope of turquoise skies & red sunsets & gorgeous rainbows in the wet season painting beauty on the phantom soul

 

I

am Enola

 

a non-existential conundrum surrounded by a cornucopia of everlasting unreality by the sea in bestial Brooklyn an unholy sphere of broken atoms bereft of light spiraling & swirling into the ineffable & crashing into the chaos of the unfathomable

 

I

am Enola

 

& the boiling sand burns my non-being a floating phantom ponders the New World Order & the Parachute Jump looms in the blackness of the unbearable August night

 

&

now I dream of Old Brooklyn & remember enchanting things I never saw & eerie events that never happened in sweet phantasmagoria a pristine vastness where chimerical peacocks & butterflies sing & sway in phantom skies & I see a parade of Monarch butterflies & white & blue peacocks & peacock feathers adorned with eye markings of gold, red, and blue flow across unreality & faraway into a vanishing view & the eyes of destiny

 

I

am Enola

 

covered with the shattering shroud of invisibility shadow of a shadow of a forsaken ghost forbidden phantom pariah in the fire of oblivion here in nowhere below the Coney Island Boardwalk & floating too across the burning sand the bestial way of the wounded wolf forever rushing slowly toward the pier & jetty in futile search of sacred identity & home for I canŐt come back shall never return nor shall I discover why or who I am-not even the dead know Brooklyn or who they are

 

I

am Enola

 

nothing more

 

 

 

 

 

 

DREAMLAND

 

 

Dancing

across the deep of nowhere

 

around

the rim of Dreamland

 

I

vanish

 

into

the swirl of the dust devil & the fantastic desert

 

a

phantasmagoria

 

of

exquisite chaos galloping through the miasma

 

&

phantom mustangs

 

tasting

the music of trauma

 

&

I sing the Blues Apocalypse

 

while

the requiem shrieks & shatters the ruins of Un-Reality

 

&

I vanish

 

inside

the Blues Apocalypse

my

nowhere blues

 

in

DreamlandŐs dystopia

 

where

my dissolving self 

 

seeks

the Hidden Holy Haven of Ineffable Nothingness

 

a.k.a.

my immortal soul

 

DreamlandŐs blessing

&

 

phantom gift

glittering in evanescence & everlasting in the perennial dream of Dreamland

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

OGUNQUIT RHAPSODY

 

 

 

 

&

dancing to the music of rebirth

 

the

Ogunquit Rhapsody

 

in

the swirl of the dreamerŐs dream

 

the

sweet phantasmagoria of Delirium Ecstasy

 

flowing

fantastically to the eerie enchantment

 

of

the Ogunquit Rhapsody

 

I

taste the oceanic bliss of the Beautiful Place by the Sea

 

&

return to our late summer retreat & the sultry August sun

 

Perkins Cove

& a luscious lunch at JackieŐs Too

 

you

& I on the terrace by the rocks seagulls resting there & sailing above

 

&

after we meander along the beautiful breathtaking Marginal Way

 

by

the glorious rocks & granite cliffs & grand Atlantic Ocean

the

1 ¼ - mile – long celestial cliff walk that blesses us with beauteous panoramic visions

 

&

we, my beloved wife,

 

oblivious

of the approaching storm the tempest within rushing across your lovely body,

 

see

but the Beautiful Place by the Sea

 

&

hear the haunting Ogunquit Rhapsody

 

before

Death stalks you but dies in the winter of despair

 

&

we dance to the music of rebirth

 

the

Ogunquit Rhapsody

 

 

 

 

 

OGUNQUIT MEDITATION

 

 

Away

from the crackling cacophony

 

mad city chaos

 

 

Away

from the raw ruins of bestial time

 

I

retreat to Ogunquit

 

the Beautiful Place by the Sea

 

 

Away

from Manhattan mayhem

 

&

Brooklyn bedlam

 

I

merge with the mellifluous flow of the Source

 

chant OM

 

&

vanish on a celestial bench on the Marginal Way

 

nestled

in a womb chair in the chimerical castle of my mind

 

 

Away

from the shattering sins of the city

 

on

the otherworldly cliff-walk

 

I

gaze at the glorious glittering ocean below

 

rushing slowly

through waves of consciousness

 

wild waves

of oceanic serenity

 

&

                                                         I AM

 

                                                         ONE

 

with                                                                                 the Source

 

the Ultimate Nothingness                                                the Without End

 

 

 

 

 

                                                        I AM

 

                                                       ONE

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

EERIE

 

EVERLASTING

 

NIGHT

 

OF

 

THE STORM

 

 (on reading Billy CollinsŐs poem-The Night of the Fallen Limb)

 

 

 

In

the summer of Ő65,

 

the

shattering arrived

 

in

the sprawling light

 

&

the long barren silence followed

 

drifting

into the deep of nowhere-

 

the

blackness of the eerie everlasting night of the storm

 

&

even now

 

the

tempest rushes through my bestial brain

 

explodes

with unbearable grief & trauma

 

&

smashes the broken mirror of my celestial other-ness-

 

the

holy sphere of whirling invisibility within

 

for

the shattering arrived

 

&

I watched you

 

gasp

for air

 

plummet

&

 

sink

into the Queen-sized bed

 

like

a gold-eyed angel

 

falling

from the Tree of Life

 

shriveled

up

 

into

a cocoon of frozen non-being

 

in

the Room of Infinity

 

in

the way station

 

of

your human home

 

as

I rocked back & forth

 

in

the cradle of prayer

 

until

you returned & rose again

 

&

looked up at us

 

wearing

a foreign travelerŐs eerie everlasting mask

 

&

shrieked, ŇI thought I was dyingÓ

 

&

like a gold-eyed angel

 

you

fell, Mother, from the Tree of Life

 

into

the House of the Dead

 

but

magically I resurrect you each time I tell your story of love

 

&

inhale your holy presence

 

each

time I reveal who you were-who you are now in the mystical universe

 

you

rise again

 

&

so do I

 

 

© Dr. Mel Waldman

 

Bio:  Mel Waldman, Ph.D., is a psychologist, poet, and writer whose stories have appeared in numerous magazines including HARDBOILED DETECTIVE, ESPIONAGE, THE SAINT, PULP METAL MAGAZINE, and AUDIENCE. His poems have been widely published in magazines and books including A NEW ULSTER, CLOCKWISE CAT, CRAB FAT LITERARY MAGAZINE, ESKIMO PIE, INDIANA VOICE JOURNAL, LIQUID IMAGINATION, THE BROOKLYN LITERARY REVIEW, BRICKPLIGHT, SKIVE MAGAZINE, ODDBALL MAGAZINE, PABLO LENNIS, POETRY PACIFIC, POETICA, RED FEZ, SQUAWK BACK, SWEET ANNIE & SWEET PEA REVIEW, THE JEWISH LITERARY JOURNAL, THE JEWISH PRESS, THE JERUSALEM POST, HOTMETAL PRESS, MAD SWIRL, HAGGARD & HALLOO, ASCENT ASPIRATIONS, YELLOW MAMA, THE BITCHINŐ KITSCH,  SOUL-LIT, TWO DROPS OF INK, and NAMASTE FIJI: THE INTERNATIONAL ANTHOLOGY OF POETRY.  A past winner of the literary GRADIVA AWARD in Psychoanalysis, he was nominated for a PUSHCART PRIZE in literature and is the author of 11 books. You can contact him at the following email address mwaldman18@earthlink.net.