Friday, December 11, 2009

dawning of day--bridge me the sequel
and say nothing of memory--
hard stones looking back
into foreign affairs--where's the knife point?!
searching through the air
words tumble blood to bare
the sequence fumbles through like this:
noThing to bother the bitter left outside
the door opened looking for
bright colored evening song and boy lines drawn in the sky
silhouette my song and feel it like pride
in the lungs breathing deep the night and the day the dawn until
park stories bring us back to earth and we feel like light on the skin

no turn
rounding the corner of earth or growing
up and out
became present
and sudden
a godless warning
on the stage, flood lights, dragged from the porch and her death--
is great--yet still means noThing next to universe
rocked by the poor pitter-patter of left-behind-future

bleak blank and drunk on the street
some pick-me-up shoulder shrug can bring her out
out of time and shell
noon day spells, sun on the skin makes one think again
of rosters--foster the cost of living
shown blatant and bare--the face (off) laughing
sagging is the sense of movement

where is here and how did it come to be?
i normally see these things
well in advance
instead looking to the radio gods to send a sign
what way to leave this benign existence

looking for fever--progressive strife
sound by life
it is breath and lips and sweat
concrete scores rocked by a dancing floor

deliver the couch with great austerity
bring to my mind
accept the rest as unavoidable
and affordable death
alternative to the rest (consumption and burning)
hypocrisy learning

single out the lined figured in the corner
a lone
glacier serving solitude and wrecking the scape
keeping noThing not even herself safe

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

the great voice of reason
drowning in escalating treason
elephant in the room
bone white ebony sin
singing about irony

her majesty
blond hair twirling round

slender finger
warring against dignity

great beyond measured
in time hearing how seconds are formed
missed communication
step back into the pink tingling night to know children
and their madness
venerable world
salvation is chance
and memory is everything

keep me company twilight
sinister night
drunken escapade
into strife--strangers hold secrets
held in posture
pinnacle alter--bow down

blow me westward
singing about silk and secrets

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

shove into
insight (provided----)
the text bold slash sans serif
unequivocal truthbetold
i never loved you
only idea
of blue
red streaked moment
no words of any kind
in any order
could save this
no handmade trinkets
nor memory
could save it
not even a wrecked conversation
about 'what ifs'
could make the front page

only idea
shattered against
and hard cold stone memory
is left to pick up the shame of salt
and letters
effusive beginning
silence in the absence -- this isolation keen and well kept
weep--emotional stint
felt like a whip to the back(hand) of dis[soul]ution--

gray night gray matter gray sight
the connection strong
vibrant and empty
the physical prowess removed
grown stronger the absence
the hum of dark house ringing through the ears
listening with ears to the ground
to the door
the floor giving a signal of
coming plight
--speak about peace
peach and fur electric eclectic touch
from everywhere a beginning a forgetting
sucking in the brave air trying to be braver still
and poetry is at standstill
human bondage
the torture of observation
knowing human disadvantage
isn't found in stillness
but movement and thought
thinking that we are whole
centered and kind gentle sensical beings--
reality the bitch next door
divided our efforts, thoughts askew
separate living and breathing only self
others an illusion
caring too much
too much the sins--right wrong
dialogical process
conversation with no one but
and reaching every reaching
for salvation
living across the corridor
and weeping
about howthingsusedtobe
and weeping
about howthingswere
and weeping
about nothinginparticular
s t o p
sudden shrinking self
the world so big so big so big big big
tiny little self shrinking
in the night
under stars and magnolia trees next to giant city blocks and rivers
muddy rivers were death and carriage both reside

polyester suited man on the corner
preaching his sign
saying god is a badass
and we're fucked
with his loud speaker
and small eyes
praying for eternal damnation

while pedestrians walk
walk like death is something known but left
under the magnolia trees by the cobbled brick street
the street light singing shinning through the water the rain
the best part of life spent in front of a stop light
thinking that some missing piece is about to jump out
with an answer
to solitude in a crowded bar
snowy white judgement
the black soot of conclusion
sophisticated inclination
that something
is not
signpost--the signal to leave-takings