YOUR PAINTING

for Michelle Rene

Dry-gauze wound wrap for combat’s true blue blood

or satellite shot, perhaps, over our

now devastated Arctic. Something good,

perhaps: Hubbell’s cosmic eye of power

exposing angels’ white hole through heaven,

how they leave or else return to save us.

Toyohashi revealing never-seen

brain waves of the Muse set to enslave us

artists and poets: layered shades of thought

and emotion, memory, vivid dream,

sudden impulse toward creation. We fought

if for so long, fearing deep pain, it seems.

Now we surrender to love’s deep rescue.

Decide on a color. Begin with blue.

Roger Armbrust

November 30, 2018

I’M LISTENING ENDLESSLY

I’m listening endlessly to “Simon

and Garfunkel’s Greatest Hits”, hypnotized

by Art’s cosmic voice, Paul’s lyrics summoned

words from past lives. One day I realized

them my own way: sought out Emily by

another name. Looked for America

in New York offices and haunts. One night

stumbled into the whore on Seventh Avenue

just down from Carnegie Hall, her model face

topping a fox stole, her smiling mouth in

near whisper asking, “Do you want a date?”

I begged off. Too costly in so many ways.

Breathless from being a rock, I somehow found

basements with honest voices. Everything changed.

Roger Armbrust

November 28, 2018

PLAGIARISM IN PARIS

Jeff Koons is guilty of plagiarism

in Paris. Something ironic, I’d say.

Can there ever really occur schism

rending art, writing, and our everyday

experience? “Immature poets

imitate; mature poets steal,” so said

T.S. Eliot, who should know. So it’s

clear how Shakespeare lifted from Holinshed,

Oscar Wilde was condemned for stealing verse,

George Harrison was slapped by The Chiffons

from tapping “He’s So Fine”. Could have been worse,

I guess: Brahms sneaking notes from Beethoven.

Say “conspiracy”? Say “inspiration”?

Depends on legal interpretation.

Roger Armbrust

November 16, 2018

RED PRIEST

Vivaldi  -- his years with Venice’s 

Ospedale della Pieta's orphans

refining lost girls into princesses

of music -- leads tourists to cross oceans,

praising their ensembles. His disheveled

flaming hair tousling as he conducts,

tempts viewers to call him the “Red Priest”. Led

to Vienna for commissions, he’s dubbed

knight by Charles VI. His desire to compose

for Charles’s court fades: the emperor dies.

The next year, so does the priest (I suppose

as clerics must) in poverty. Now I

listen to his “Concerto for Strings”, sure

it shows us the Red Priest was never poor.

Roger Armbrust

October 14, 2018

SONG: SICK OF THE BLUR

Dealt with this concrete-less world of concrete

for a while now

Got no reason to compete or complete

a false smile now

Sick of the blur

Whipped by the blur

Slumped as a cur whose been slurred

as it were

Sick of the blur

Wandering like a muddy stream in dreams

of lost art now

Wondering if a lover seems to esteem

my scarred heart now

Life’s so absurd

Whipped by the blur

Each lying word’s a dead cat’s purr

as it were

Whipped by the blur

What’s the skinny, you got any real hope

for my life now?

I’ll ask you twice, what’s your price for that dope?

Give me life now

Change how I feel

Don’t want to feel

Sick of the blur

Life’s so absurd

Whipped by the blur

Sick of the blur

Roger Armbrust

October 13, 2018

“HYMN OF PRAISE”

Mendelssohn possesses it, doesn’t he:

Sense of presence leading to reverence,

not so much awaking as reverie

evolving to understanding, essence

of living within all. Listen how his

Adagio religioso, strings

flowing,  envisions Gutenberg, spirit’s

caress of sudden insight revealing

moveable type -- its releasing knowledge

from tight fists of monks, pushing past Latin

to each nation’s vernacular: his pledge

of spreading new words of men and women

throughout our earth. As you touch each book’s page

recall his genius, gift to every age.

Roger Armbrust

October 11, 2018

THIS NEW ARTWORK

for Dan Miller

This new artwork records our history.

Excavates our psyches, our hearts’ archives.

Returns us to our ancient mystery

as humans, hidden tunnels of our lives

where we ran without knowing it. That man

in blue bike helmet -- enclosed autism

repeating his words but not artist’s hand

as his pen then brush circle in rhythm,

slide with hypnotic lines blending colors

and memory -- predicts our hazed future.

Art’s winding energy offers dolor

and hope, its hue both slashes and sutures

pulsing carcass that is us. Where he goes

next, no one can know, but we’re glad he does.

Roger Armbrust

September 28, 2018

I’M LISTENING TO JAZZ

I’m listening to jazz and I’m writing

I’m writing and listening to jazz

I’m hating all this and delighting

in its chaos its order razzmatazz

of its rhythm and imagery I wish

she’d call or come by I wish she’d just try

a little bitty bit Guess I’m garish

to wish it showy shabby shuffly I

shuffle shuffle room to room just robot

lost roundtrip tomb or cell with carpet floor

shuffle door to door sad with what I got

not Empty arms final score nothing more

now kneeling deep breathing no more fighting

I’m listening to jazz and I’m writing

Roger Armbrust

September 14, 2018

HE LIES TO ME

He lies to me every day. Confuses

me. Causes me to feel my friends are my

enemies, doubt all truth. He refuses

to ever admit he’s wrong, even tries

to portray God while adoring Mammon.

I keep sensing seismic shifts in marble

columns and floors where fearing forms happen

to gather, to blather terror, warble

hypocrisy of democracy. Spend

my funds on their welfare. Not that they care,

but I’d like to shower peace to far ends

of our Earth, empower poor, bring light where

it’s dark. Provide farmers un-poisoned seeds.

Clear water and air. Teach each soul to read.

Roger Armbrust

September 9, 2018

I MUST STOP

I must stop wasting time, respect its worth.

I must stop wasting breath, adore this air.

I must stop wasting dear water and earth,

and beat of each heart assigned to my care.

I must stop shunning sunrise and sunset

as if they were great artworks I deserve.

I must stop screaming insults I regret

each time I repeat them, how my tongue serves

words like swords to gain me power, to prove

my worth. Listen to those haunting unseen

voices, their chants rising, longing for love.

Their souls dwell in the valley there, between

yesterday and tomorrow. They know me

by what I borrow. They see what’s to be.

Roger Armbrust

September 4, 2018

SONG: I'VE LOST YOU IN THE CHAOS

The night sky turns to fire

Not flames but emotion

My dark burning desire

A vast searing ocean

The morning light blinds me

Not sun but stark despair

Won’t you seek and find me

I’ve searched but you’re not there

I’ve lost you in the chaos

I’ve lost you in the storm

Sadistic fate’s betrayed us

Dangling deceitful charm

Causing our psyches harm

I’ve lost you in the chaos

Each shadow’s your shadow

Each lightning strike your eyes

Each howling wind I know

Your voice decries my lies

Your weeping drowns my soul

Your sneering ignites fear

My losing all control

Forced you to flee from here

I’ve lost you in the chaos

I’ve lost you in the storm

Sadistic fate’s betrayed us

Dangling deceitful charm

Causing our psyches harm

I’ve lost you in the chaos

I’ve lost you in the chaos

I’ve lost you in the…

I’ve lost you in…

I’ve lost you…

I’ve lost you…

I’ve lost you…

Roger Armbrust

August 28, 2018

SONG: I’M GOING DIGITAL OVER YOU

My heart feels a cramp

When I dial your amp

Seeking your stamp

Of approval

I see your icon

Come on with a frown

And then you propound

My removal

I’m going digital over you

I’ve bookmarked you Del.icio.us

Your server knows it’s true

My software’s not malicious

Don’t think my file suspicious

I’m simply in a race

To enter your database

I’m going digital over you

I’m going digital over you

Searching for your access point

network my way through

To your wireless connection

To encode my affection

Have my biometrics encrypt

Into your memory stick

I’m going digital over you

My heart feels a cramp

When I dial your amp

Seeking your stamp

Of approval

I’m going digital over you

My raw data’s in the cloud

My hard drive shows it’s true

My fiber optic cable’s

Suddenly unstable

My only hope’s to flee

Into virtual reality

I’m going digital over you

Unfriend me on Facebook

Unlink LinkedIn too

Bully my Instagram

Into cosmic spam

I’m going digital over you

Roger Armbrust

August 23, 2018

CONCEPTION

A birthday sonnet for Catherine, my daughter

Because your mother and I pulled it off,

you joined the human race, fast labor pains

pushing her from our laughing-den night of

Brandy Alexanders through sterile lanes

of St. Vincent’s to the maternity

ward. You took it from there to form your own

conceptions: life, love, and art. Certainty

of uncertainty. Faith and action. You’ve sewn

relationships with a tailor’s zealous care.

Construct your dear art like a delicate

surgeon trusting spirit’s process. Just where

you go from here, call it Muse, call it fate,

you know you don’t go alone. Conception,

after all, marries Imagination.

Roger Armbrust

August 21, 2018

SONG: THIS CAT, THIS MOUSE

This cat lives in my house
He’s got a plan I’m on to

I wish he’d catch this mouse

But I see he ain’t goin’ to

He’d rather sleep

He’d rather eat

He’d rather I

Toss him a treat

This mouse lives in my house

Near this ferocious cat

They don’t play cat and mouse

Neither brat’s into that

This mouse chews cheese

Avoids the trap

This cat’s at ease

Here in my lap

This fog of war's existed

Now for over a year

To me it just seems twisted

But these two just don’t care

I plead, but they’ve resisted

I ask you, is that fair?

I ask them, is that fair?

They stare, but they don’t care

Roger Armbrust

August 20, 2018

SONG: UNCOMPROMISING ME

Uncompromising me

She begs me to understand

But I refuse to understand

She tries to hold my hand

And so I slap her hand

Shatter my glass on the floor

Turn and storm out the door

Uncompromising me

Scandalizing me

At church she starts confession

But I teach her a lesson

Stick my head in with the priest

Shout “She screws men who’re deceased!”

I scream a profane mouthful

Flip fingers to the faithful

Turn and storm out the door

Scandalizing me

So it goes with me

Alone in my apartment

Wondering what my heart meant

By hurting her that way

By hurting me that way

I’d apologize if only…

But she won’t…I’m so lonely

And so…woe is me

Roger Armbrust

August 19, 2018

SONG: CARRY ME IN YOUR THOUGHTS

Carry me in your thoughts

Carry me in your heart

Carry me in your arms

Even when we’re apart

Carry me

Carry me

Like my thoughts carry you

Everywhere

Life’s cascading rivers

Tumble us without care

Suns always rise and fall

Leave us in darkness there

Feeling alone and lost

Fearing the unknown night

Carry me to the stars

And love’s reflective light

Carry me to the moon

Where we’re honored from Earth

Carry me through to love

Recall our promise at birth

Carry me

Carry me

Like my thoughts carry you

Everywhere

Roger Armbrust

August 19, 2018

SONGS FOR YOU

Know each time I sing a song

I’m singing the song for you

Even in a choir sing along

to God I chant to you too

When you hear me in the shower

And can’t decipher the words

Close your eyes and feel the power

Know it’s a love song you’ve heard

When I’m humming

I think of you

Guitar strumming

I’m seeing you

When I watch you brush your hair

Your brush’s rhythm’s a song

Loving lyrics whisper there

I caress them all night long

I rise at dawn, the melody

Flowing through my being

Words a loving reverie

Know when you hear me sing

I’m singing the song for you

I’m singing the song to you

Roger Armbrust

August 17, 2018

SONG: BREATHING THIS LONELY AIR

What am I doing here

Standing outside your door

Caught up in gnawing fear

Cutting me to the core

Knowing you said it’s over

How you’ve found a new lover

I’m left here to stand and stare

Breathing this lonely air

What am I doing here

Walking through cold dark rain

Seeing your face so clear

Seeing your eyes in pain

When you whispered “Go away.”

When I knew I’d never stay

The sweet night with you again

I’m left here so lost again

Breathing this lonely air

I see lightning in the distance

I hear thunder rumbling near

I still feel your resistance

What am I doing here?

What am I doing here

Stumbling into this bar

Wiping away my tears

Trying to heal my heart

With booze and fake laughter

Damning ever after

Choking in my despair

Breathing this lonely air

Cursed with this lonely air

Breathing this lonely air

Roger Armbrust

August 10, 2018

ASCENDING PINNACLE MOUNTAIN

“I love to watch sunsets from the top,” she

said, pointing as if toward stars not yet there.

I took a chance: held her hand. She led me

up West Summit Trail seeming without care,

sure of each step as if returning home,

as if oaks, pines, limestone boulders were all

old friends. She stopped, gazed smiling. “Now we’ve come

to my favorite place.” Spreading arms, she called

out to the valley, “Hello!!!” It echoed

in muffled songs like ancient memories.

Dusk turned clouds and lake to fire. Burning flowed

to and through me. Yet she seemed so at ease.

I touched her face. She kissed my lips. The lark

sang as we scurried down to beat the dark.

Roger Armbrust

August 8, 2018

ALL THINGS AT ONCE

An iceberg melts as our bodies embrace.

Bombs shatter Syrian lives as we kiss.

Yemen’s million scream cholera’s disgrace

as we two whisper through night’s graceful bliss.

Coal smoke thickens China’s sky. You and I

breathe deep our air-conditioned night, passion

climaxing to calm. Shrapnel blinds an eye

in Afghanistan. We gaze at fashion

in the newest Vogue. Drought strangles Delhi

and Sacramento as we sip seltzer

in crystal. The sad child’s swollen belly

in Caracas growls while helter skelter

she runs through the slum. You smile at me, share

your delicate dessert of wine-poached pears.

Roger Armbrust

July 28, 2018

SONG: CONSTANCE

So it happened at first glance

So I thought I’d take a chance

So she smiled at my advance

She said, “I’m Constance.”

So we laughed in bright sunlight

So we kissed in soft moonlight

So we lay down at midnight

I whispered, “Constance.”

So we parted at dawn light

So time’s tossed my days and nights

So she’s never left my sight

I dream of Constance

I whisper,  “Constance.”

I whisper, “Constance.”

I whisper, “Constance.”

Roger Armbrust

July 24, 2018

YOU LAUGHED AND WALKED AWAY

Slice my heart with a Bowie knife

Stab me deep and end my strife

I asked you to be my wife

You laughed and walked away

I bought you clothes, I cooked you food

Moved in a swanky neighborhood

I had it bad and thought it was good

Till you laughed and walked away

What can I do

Here without you

I guess I’ll die…

Wait…

I got an idea

I’ll slice your tires until they’re flat

I’ll shout on Facebook how you’re fat

Sneak in your house and kill your cat…

(Hold it…no…I won’t kill your cat)

I’ll just shave it bare, and after that

I’ll laugh (HA HA HA) and walk away

Roger Armbrust

July 13, 2018

EEYORE THE HERO

Piglet cried and pouted and frowned

Christopher panicked and ran away

Tigger bounced himself underground

But Eeyore smiled and saved the day

Kanga bounded deep in the woods

Roo catapulted right behind

Pooh could think of nothing good

But Eeyore caused the sun to shine

No harm from Huffalumps

No worries about Woozies

Stan and Heff are merely chumps

The Pack Rats are all floozies

Ol’ Skippy yelped and hid his eyes

Owl couldn’t figure out who

Kessie frowned and refused to fly

But Eeyore laughed and kept his cool

He freed the kids from grammar school

He bought some glue and fixed his tail

He gathered honey in a pail

He carried it to you know who

You know who

You know who

Who?

(Point at audience who responds)

Winnie-The-Pooh!!!

Roger Armbrust

July 12, 2018