Colorful Lightning (Klee), Sonnet #310

The master can show the moon in a storm
If he chooses to -- the answer is why?
Too simple to think for the sake of form,
The willful undermining of the norm.
It's his, this stylus-petted, stepped-down sky.
There's not one cloud. The scarred night air is dry.
Standing outside his miniatures, we stare
At what we can't be sure he meant to share.
One summer, I stood on a factory roof
And watched heat lighting crack the night apart.
The moon penetrated the hazy air
Just once, a blind man, stupid and aloof,
Hardly a subject for a work of art.
The whistle blew and I went down the stairs.

Untitled (Julia Guerin), Sonnet #201

Night, then thought-crushing life-bleaching lightbang
That burst your house before the thunder rang.
When it's right above you, it slaps your soul;
The sound turns the valves in your sacred heart,
And leaves your mind a maelstrom of a hole.
(The gods threw a lightning bolt like a dart,
At each other, playfully, or at men,
To prick forth their prayers again and again.)
Last night the city's lights withstood the storm,
But I, briefly, succumbed to its thunder.
A detonation ripped apart all form,
Idea or emotion, buried under
Avalanching nerves, reflected in skeins
Of lightning, and bare trees, stuttering veins.

Cat and Bird (Klee)

#47

I am a person. Look into my eyes.
I've a heart-shaped nose and whiskers
With which I whisk away the flies.
I had a mom, but never licked her.
This cat's tattoo is a damned bird.
Between naps, the atavistic urges
Burst from my brain like a cuckoo.
I'll chase anything feathered or furred
Until my unsated sleepiness surges
Or there's nothing left to pursue.
My owner's son pets me, feeds me.
That I need him and he needs me
Is a lie I kindly perpetuate,
Especially after what I just ate.

The Mocker Mocked (Paul Klee)

#11

Upon three lines of argument
I’ll construct an actor’s mask
To say what is, not what is meant,
Should a reflective audience ask.
First, “Nipples make the thumb
Feel glad about its thumbing task.”
Second, “The tongue cannot outdrum
The quarrel fought between the ears.”
Last, “Our bodies eventually come
To satisfy our deepest fears.”
Now, dear friends, with your consent,
I’ll put this on. Hm, it appears
They consider my grin indecent.
I’m booed when I expected cheers!