Writings by Zellywag (Will Zell)
To What They Are Feeling
To What They Are Feeling This poem says nothing It knows when to be silent when words have no meaning to what they are feeling
Being Remorse
Being Remorse ~ Will Zell BEFORE the sadness comes piercing comments falling comets swallowed by my compassion the fiery rock extinguished. WHEN the sadness comes a deep swell pushing out in all directions under the ever-night moving like the first wave breaking as a flow of tears.
The Blissard
The Blissard ~ Will Zell Painting by Will Zell - oil on canvas Paths were hardly passable all entrance stopped, snuffed or halted plow trucks leaving ruts like scars No phase of yellow buses cycled Workers left in frosted cars ‘till all was still beneath her sill …untill a solo shoveler started re-arranging her peace of snow blessed sidewalk suggesting one other then three … all too many more. She could sit in her chair for hours in the morning bare with mind on nothing while coated trees weighed branches down wind arranging drifts amidst the block with power out this housemate simply sits. Lovely, blue eyed, deep she gazes through her attic dormer with eyelids half awakening to bundled figures chiselling straight and narrow lines marking out vague boundaries by sidewalks and illegible signs within the circuit of their plodding life leaving walls on either side. One after the other emerging from garages wielding tools at bay clearing paths to their mailbox or digging out objects on their missing driveway a uniform whiteness sparkles like stars but seldom noticed that way they, appeared exhausted from her attic floor so pleased with the sense of freedom puffing jets of steam from frozen mouths [...]
The Blue Bird Analogy
The Blue Bird Analogy Will Zell - 1980 Tyler School of Art This poem represents to me the seasons of a persons life in terms of their striving. It is to read aloud and felt on the tip of the tongue. It works better that way.
Trash Night
Trash Night ~ Will Zell from "Suburban Odyssey" 1981 One humid night on unkept lawns prone to spells from playing Heaven Our day together now exhausts and seeps into nocturnal wells. Lying still our bodies lucid speaking bones upon the Earth Draining back the mind the muscle revealing all we’ve known since birth. Spotting rabbits out to feed cocked to spring at a moment's rustle. Here I’m drawn to be in need by her side beneath this sky. And like these animals I get stunned by movement…shapes… immense and hovering. For planets hang tense and smothering I sense the horrors. Uranus swaying backward amidst the company of father’s Mars brooding over the same old quandary. numb to here their children’s silent hollers creeping about looting the alters. I have no speak in matters that complicate this death of bond in tatters for now I care to be with you defenseless… safe. Every time you turn your timid tease over to my will. In fearless haste the loosening ground around me dissolves yet another ill conceived suggestion unspoken. With brilliant eyes alive with hope resting on me I toss myself into those pools where the moon reflects rippled by your dancing around this question. [...]