Mind Fields: End of 2025
Posted: December 31, 2025 Filed under: Mind Fields, Poetry | Tags: Arthur Rosch, Mind Fields, Poetry, Writing to be Read 1 Comment
It’s hard to acknowledge that
while I sit here in my chair
I am also flying across a field of golden light
towards the unknowable source of that light
only that It is and I am here.
It beckons me to follow.
Contemplate a god who can present us with the incredible structures of the cosmos. Might that god also be able to form connections within the thinking populace of space/time? Within all their multifold mind/body vehicles spread across the voids, is god possible, or even probable? These connections are features of a divine pathway toward an intelligence of love and meaning. It contains an apparent infinite supply or energy for us to avail ourselves in building an Art Of Universes
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On Playing Music
I can puff the keys with different parts of my fingers.
A brush to the side of my callused index; a flurry across
the black notes. Hands are wing- like in their facile adaptions.
No disorder survives. Music resolves most of the time
in harmony or obvious discord but it resolves
it doesn’t leave you hanging there wondering
what happened? Did he walk out on stage
and break a bottle over his head?
Remember this always: it takes two bottles over the head
to qualify as music.
ABOUT MUSIC
The most fun my fingers can have is when they
twiddle the keys, fingers going round and round amid
black and white follicles
jungles
of notes like towers
chords like suns
feeling for the right spot
to sit on the right spot
the fingers don’t forget the flowering pleas
to the pleading towers. Ancient note structures
float in the desert. Across the dunes camel tracks
vanish in the wind.. Natural heritage from generations
lurching rhythms hustle elbows knees flying.
I’m working on it he says.
mocking the entire enterprise.
I can puff the keys with different parts of my fingers.
A brush to the side of my callused index; a flurry across
the black notes. Hands are wing- like in their facile adaptions.
No disorder survives. Music resolves most of the time
in harmony or obvious discord but it resolves
it doesn’t leave you hanging there wondering
what happened? Did he walk out on stage
and break a bottle over his head?
Remember this always: it takes two bottles over the head
to qualify as music.
About Arthur Rosch
Arthur Rosch is a novelist, musician, photographer and poet. His works are funny, memorable and often compelling. One reviewer said “He’s wicked and feisty, but when he gets you by the guts, he never lets go.” Listeners to his music have compared him to Frank Zappa, Tom Waits, Randy Newman or Mose Allison. These comparisons are flattering but deceptive. Rosch is a stylist, a complete original. His material ranges from sly wit to gripping political commentary.
Arthur was born in the heart of Illinois and grew up in the western suburbs of St. Louis. In his teens he discovered his creative potential while hoping to please a girl. Though she left the scene, Arthur’s creativity stayed behind. In his early twenties he moved to San Francisco and took part in the thriving arts scene. His first literary sale was to Playboy Magazine. The piece went on to receive Playboy’s “Best Story of the Year” award. Arthur also has writing credits in Exquisite Corpse, Shutterbug, eDigital, and Cat Fancy Magazine. He has written five novels, a memoir and a large collection of poetry. His autobiographical novel, Confessions Of An Honest Man won the Honorable Mention award from Writer’s Digest in 2016.
More of his work can be found at www.artrosch.com
Photos at https://500px.com/p/artsdigiphoto?view=photos
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This segment of “Mind Fields” is sponsored by the Roberta Writes blog site, where you can find the poetry, photos, videos, and book reviews by Robbie Cheadle and so much more.
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my son likes these two pens about music, Art. Happy New Year.
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