<center><h1>Tabula rasa</h1>**.
....
.........
..............
<sub>original poem
& images by 
@d-pend
.....
.</sub>**</center>

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![Screen Shot 2020-02-23 at 8.04.11 PM.jpeg](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmZ5Kc19ohDFrBisU3iP8ANH3L9FdZSYqsv2AGhiLBnWvi/Screen%20Shot%202020-02-23%20at%208.04.11%20PM.jpeg)
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![Screen Shot 2020-02-23 at 8.04.11 PM 4.jpeg](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmW6CMJVh9dmoWCAghPqLi8NvmBZEErRdsx1JxpxLjb2CD/Screen%20Shot%202020-02-23%20at%208.04.11%20PM%204.jpeg)

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<h2>Tabula rasa</h2>
The board is scrubbed white;
I'm all sparse stubble 
and stage-fright.
She's a piece of parchment
who multiplies, miraculous:
tucked into the basket
of my bicycle, 
a crochet hook to loop my yarn
that soft-cements the binding
of my daybook.

A sudden weaving motion rolls
through our reluctant tapestry:
illuminates the contrasts,
shows the subtle frays.

She—high lit against discrepancy,
I melt into the umber
of false safety, pretense,
insensible, I utter—
—low nothings—
—my knowing's sad extent,
cool crimson, manilla,
my dawn and pure intent.

My innards are all crystal,
set gently, clear-rapt 
with an extraordinary delicacy
so unlike that self I e'er see
through life-rambling's throes.

Soon come, self soon goes—
emerges through a wormhole
where space-wind white blows,
a pale transparent knoll
where we languish, divine.

Here I'm hypermagnetized—
my errant arrow spins;
I pole-less dwell in cosmic artic
'neath the snow in vents.

Molten—air ancient:
To whence primordial river,
soft sapient? O orient,
Direct me, encompass then
my body, my meanness, 
of clay my dread experience:
that stony ignorance
which all human minds must share.

Throw now my dross
on the searing unspeakable:
whose spark rises saffron
in lily-white tongues, held low,
denied by fled frost
of all my logic liquified.

Deep behind my eyelids
She's kaleidescope—of etudes,
orange flowers melt—
—mathematical unfolding—
in precision, a soft-ticking euphonia
to purchase me my song-clothed solitude
interlocking days, dreamed earnestly
in silk and glared rubies
in ether's gulf between.

That tension, elation,
caress I scarely
dare admit I feel, all for fear
of the board scrubbed white.
Blank fullness, to fleet—
erasure fills my sight.
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![Screen Shot 2020-02-23 at 8.04.11 PM 3.jpeg](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmbJc8BrhnMabjKMFYvp6fuRdESAp99pHsK1VGGKA7szvR/Screen%20Shot%202020-02-23%20at%208.04.11%20PM%203.jpeg)

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![Screen Shot 2020-02-23 at 8.39.06 PM.jpeg](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmXapXwzDEbAts2tA7dEbmVBLLHQLPMugYWUTy3aoPdrgA/Screen%20Shot%202020-02-23%20at%208.39.06%20PM.jpeg)

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<center>*This post is original material
created by Daniel J. Pendergraft*
.
<sub>First published to STEEM
on February 23, 2020</sub></center>
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![Screen Shot 2020-02-23 at 9.18.28 PM.jpeg](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmfYUzpdFRsK5D4Pni1Ey9BaKhSBeJTBu4PbRTWMVw86ns/Screen%20Shot%202020-02-23%20at%209.18.28%20PM.jpeg)

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![Screen Shot 2020-02-23 at 8.04.11 PM 2.jpeg](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmaxK8vjTLjdjxA7XC5EbXbi5EKxHifChdu8jD8RnNp1RG/Screen%20Shot%202020-02-23%20at%208.04.11%20PM%202.jpeg)

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