ditch,

the poetry that matters

B. Z. Niditch

B.Z. Niditch is a poet, playwright, fiction writer and teacher.

His work is widely published in journals and magazines throughout the world, including: Columbia: A Magazine of Poetry and Art; The Literary Review; Denver Quarterly; Hawaii Review; Le Guepard (France); Kadmos (France); Prism International; Jejune (Czech Republic); Leopold Bloom (Budapest);  Antioch Review; and Prairie Schooner, among others.

He lives in Brookline, Massachusetts.

EXPECTATIONS

no
  shorter or
linear
in the meta
PHYSICAL
      OR THE MUSE abstract
SENSES
of vulnerable action

of language
smarting from the lexicon
  of a   screen
in    black charcoal
or white sewn up
parsed words
at a    dissolving

futurist notion
by unequal equilibrium
   space
to timeless wonder
in liquid silences

dissolving from images
in landscapes of alembic
   voices
in 12 undertones
of alphabetic drawings

 

 

RECOGNITION

except what lasts
   blinding the universe
in a simulacrum
  joined at the compact
skin and flesh
      OUT OF necessity
at the harbinger of time: post-
mortem (dreamed down)
DUCHAMP'S
NUDE DESCENDING A STAIRCASE
      twilight's vernal tongue
when snow from clouds
of alembic speech
       encircles into the Ides
From each informed
   inference of budding sex
as the latitude
    of implanted yews
accompanies the beds
of spring
  TWO arms embossed
in French translation
     branching in absentia/
along an ashen twilight
of dusty consummation
  forgetfulness
making a path
and other wise MIRAGES
of likeness (for silence)
    TO INFINITE memory

 

 

URBAN READ

Pulling on adulation
of fiery words the sun
     silencing questions
  exorcising of such first light
birthing language
of street and ave. open readings
for intangible dimension
    CAUGHT in INTEGRITY
a poet's cry of voices
for a shrill strain at justice
with a transformer of phrases
even    at   odd    occasions
  when across the city
platform of a LIFETIME
      BEYOND EVERY REACTION
we are translated.

 

 

CONJECTURES

The ergo    sum in
your perilous path
when  you  step
out
of reality
fearing the landscape
   of additional images
of a cautious dialogue
  discarding all reason

  and an abacus
for possible multipications
  of glimmerings with pleasure
choosing a retinue
for the day's echo
effacing sleeps' Voices

with a dialectical
matrix and mirror
    beyond yourselves
with your prowess
lost in tongues
in a presocratic way

hiding the dispersed
tower of words
     reflecting sight
and blind nightmare
for an apprehensive hour
              creating a hapless
  dawn
at the edge of enlightenment
  where your houglassed screen

of your right lobe
tries to foretell
  the dust of wisdom
    accumulated through centuries
in pearls of calculus

 

 

KALEIDOSCOPE #7

And you
francis picabia
  whirled in paint
on your fingertips
 of a discolored universe
when the brush sweeps
    away a century
  of reaction


when pigment changes
and mingles
the dim reflections
       recalling yellow
from ivory & blackness
     on a canvas
  from slim hands
from a fiery red eye
  singed with scaling
bulbs of light
which dabs of sky milk
spreading a nuance
of shadow
on dispered pensive
circling
   rectangles
and uprooted shadows
of tunic height ( FROM
  DEVOURED IMAGES)
in furtive enstranged
parlance
casting strokes
   shivering fragments
   of cool pulse
toward intermittent
dialogue
from water holes
of blank spaces
in your sound proof
studio  next to mine

 

 

SPEECH FIGURES #1

Speaking in timid first light
failing punch-lines

when driving north

on rough unsanded roads

\\\\ sitting on blankets

animated on a phalanx

of lost postmarks, directions
  patterns, night-knot diagrams
red eye magnetized apertures
    shielded from mountain gravity
a flowering sunshine
by shivers of high snow
in blinding infinite space
passsing your being
  from the ARCTIC AIR
in transparent dispersion
of    winds, sparrows, trees
  from a persperctive
of the longest month
reaching down

with no surveillance of fierce
  pressurized depths
to heaps of imagination
  whispering to molten earth
    the signs dormant
from itinerant awkwardness
to succororing words
those adolescent forget-me-nots
which beyond any slant
  of stone and bluish slate
caters to stark memory
when a finger climbs
   a limpid liquid path
  to eek away the dust
at ex camera photographs
ideograms, cave paintings
  lithographs, excavations
in lost quarries
dislocated in figural speech
from the astral alembic
speaker phones
of our own mercurial season.


 

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                                                                                                        April 11, 2012