Thursday, June 27, 2013
Transcribed from a journal (October 30th, 2004)
WORK. SCHOOL. HOME. SCHOOL. HOME. WORK. SCHOOL. WORK. HOME. The
doldrums get me down, naturally. I hear it doesn't much change in this
life. Though I'm not special in the global sense, I hope to change this
constant state of boredom into true rollicking revelry. Creativity is
practically lost to this age, for we must rely on the innovation of
tradition for anything close to originality. Survival first, then
expression. Poetry is a state of mind, not a string of well-placed
mechanical devices. So, what the fuck is it all for? Are we all trying
to be remembered? Apparently. So our existence has EVERYTHING to do
with voyeurism and high-visibility. How very sad it is to me; I'm luck
to be happy without all that shit for the moment.
tenants in common
tenants in common
always give and take
in apart mental fashion
never failing to share
a home life
expropriately
otherwise
the laws divide
and tear apart
their will
the losses accounted
and observed
every year
when added to
the gains recalled
and compounded
each moment
always give and take
in apart mental fashion
never failing to share
a home life
expropriately
otherwise
the laws divide
and tear apart
their will
the losses accounted
and observed
every year
when added to
the gains recalled
and compounded
each moment
reduced of course
because we slaked
our thirst
upon the poison
because we slaked
our thirst
upon the poison
equal the materiels
that the builders
left behind
maintaining personal space
outpaced
by the other runners
in this race
forever flailing
and failing to see
how few
of those builders’ tools
we inherently need
the equation was lost
and thus
the spacéd remain
that the builders
left behind
maintaining personal space
outpaced
by the other runners
in this race
forever flailing
and failing to see
how few
of those builders’ tools
we inherently need
the equation was lost
and thus
the spacéd remain
Kiddo
How easy it was
to say what was our favorite,
How easy it is to doubt;
A loyal dog
with a smile in its face,
A pig with a snout.
to say what was our favorite,
How easy it is to doubt;
A loyal dog
with a smile in its face,
A pig with a snout.
Can I love you with this heart
- For our forces
i don't see myself
in flesh and bone
i believe in
something to behold
but inside there lies
a gift that dies
i can't believe
but maybe You can
the sea is risen
horses prepared
the call of war
leaves Us all ensnared
but now i ask how
can i love you
with this my heart
when i am elsewhere
my part is given
the gage is thrown
pardon myself
or become unknown
i don't see myself
in flesh and bone
i believe in
something to behold
but inside there lies
a gift that dies
i can't believe
but maybe You can
the sea is risen
horses prepared
the call of war
leaves Us all ensnared
but now i ask how
can i love you
with this my heart
when i am elsewhere
my part is given
the gage is thrown
pardon myself
or become unknown
Killer from the Deep [or, she rhymes with poetry]
-written for The Haters out there
She draws from me
Sweet poetry,
All is as it should be
Dreaming apart from her.
Everynight I'm seething
From doves of dreams
Believing
And seeing everything -
I'm breathing.
Up above my lifeline
I trust this moment
Though it's fleeting.
Giv'n up on solace.
These eight ayem
December frolics:
Seein'em come n' seein'm go -
It isn't me.
No boast of burden
But I know when
I'm a-seein' hurtin'.
So in I'll come,
I'll say, a man at arms
And I'll treasure her
With gifts and charms
To every end, I -
Might I defend the love -
Until the very end
Of her, my dove?
She draws from me
Sweet poetry,
All is as it should be
Dreaming apart from her.
Everynight I'm seething
From doves of dreams
Believing
And seeing everything -
I'm breathing.
Up above my lifeline
I trust this moment
Though it's fleeting.
Giv'n up on solace.
These eight ayem
December frolics:
Seein'em come n' seein'm go -
It isn't me.
No boast of burden
But I know when
I'm a-seein' hurtin'.
So in I'll come,
I'll say, a man at arms
And I'll treasure her
With gifts and charms
To every end, I -
Might I defend the love -
Until the very end
Of her, my dove?
Wreadt
The day you are born
Is the day that you die
You came here to walk
I came here to fly
Fly away home
Where the bugs and the bees
Look to the heavens
And not to the trees
You'll see separate houses
In desperate lands
You'll seek other pastures
And happier plans
But that's not for me
My little chickadee
Don't you look to the West
For your consternation
It lies in that hall
Where it's been all along
You fought to receive it
Now blustering through it
You cannot percieve it
You went ahead and blew it
The time of the rhyme
Has come to its prime
In the end, this saga
Must do deeds or die
Take what thou wilt
And mess it all up
The future holds only
The heart that shall bless it
Is the day that you die
You came here to walk
I came here to fly
Fly away home
Where the bugs and the bees
Look to the heavens
And not to the trees
You'll see separate houses
In desperate lands
You'll seek other pastures
And happier plans
But that's not for me
My little chickadee
Don't you look to the West
For your consternation
It lies in that hall
Where it's been all along
You fought to receive it
Now blustering through it
You cannot percieve it
You went ahead and blew it
The time of the rhyme
Has come to its prime
In the end, this saga
Must do deeds or die
Take what thou wilt
And mess it all up
The future holds only
The heart that shall bless it
Written July 15th, 2005 (this is not about vampires)
TWILIGHT
At times
The harvest moon rises
To kiss the bright fat sun
Into oblivion
She wakes
Now rising up daily
She toils the light away
Awaiting the sunset
To search
For that dusky day-night
She must orbit that moon
Respecting her rough tide
At times
The harvest moon waxes
To pulverize the sun
Into oblivion
With that
As before continuing
To uncover her twilight
For in darkness she finds
In rooms
Where strangers share glances
More than a few dances
And later romances
Twilight
Embraces every room
And the child that first hears
Will soon see the first time
At times
That old harvest moon climbs
To scare the ruddy sun
Into oblivion
In rooms
Seeking continuing
To define her twilight
For in dim light she finds
In all
These empty rooms
Where sunlight cannot sleep
Pale moonlight slowly creeps
Twilight
To fall between heaven
And midnight right around
The place the two embrace
At times
The harvest moon rises
To kiss the bright fat sun
Into oblivion
She wakes
Now rising up daily
She toils the light away
Awaiting the sunset
To search
For that dusky day-night
She must orbit that moon
Respecting her rough tide
At times
The harvest moon waxes
To pulverize the sun
Into oblivion
With that
As before continuing
To uncover her twilight
For in darkness she finds
In rooms
Where strangers share glances
More than a few dances
And later romances
Twilight
Embraces every room
And the child that first hears
Will soon see the first time
At times
That old harvest moon climbs
To scare the ruddy sun
Into oblivion
In rooms
Seeking continuing
To define her twilight
For in dim light she finds
In all
These empty rooms
Where sunlight cannot sleep
Pale moonlight slowly creeps
Twilight
To fall between heaven
And midnight right around
The place the two embrace
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