fortuitous misfortune plastered in the curls
of historical whispers
under the bed floors
and the milky sheets
of a page in the slumber of a time
legends and wrinkles
maybe they knew something we didn't
maybe it's going
wispy flames
my suitcase drags on the stone floors
into air i can't breathe
without
solitude and nose hairs
here i've found my gem, the cravings
the wanderings
the coffee shop bustle with the string of intellectualism flossing my teeth
standing on platforms built for talking
i stay for a time in this space
to which i am a virgin
and i lick it up like salt from a shot
and i shoot it down and bite
but i can't finish the second and third
all is too boring by then
and i want something only
simple and lovely
a cabin
steam
grapes
books
records
dust
greens
Monday, August 24, 2009
Monday, August 17, 2009
do
click publish post on this poem
speak with lover, of love and lovelies
use my body on the earth
contact old friend
do work things
exercise fingers with strings
puppets
take herbs and cleanse
shed
start something new
do this again
speak with lover, of love and lovelies
use my body on the earth
contact old friend
do work things
exercise fingers with strings
puppets
take herbs and cleanse
shed
start something new
do this again
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
rhyth
m
the build squash jagged train
smokey the bulldozer
jolly jelly bean roll
wither flower into cymbal crash bird
fly fly fly
if it doesn't make you move
shaking chains in dungeons
tapping a pillow with your dreams
kicking the minutes on repeat
a dangle from the lash of your beating eye
missing the snare on the whole piece of pie
and you wonder why
you haven't learned to dance
dissonance churns
when you aren't playing
when you cut the jam
and your spread across a sandwich in st. james infirmary
croaking the blues
without the bones to know
your knows from your snot
the fierceness of the charge forward without compromise
your bull in the skull
still, twitching
the build squash jagged train
smokey the bulldozer
jolly jelly bean roll
wither flower into cymbal crash bird
fly fly fly
if it doesn't make you move
shaking chains in dungeons
tapping a pillow with your dreams
kicking the minutes on repeat
a dangle from the lash of your beating eye
missing the snare on the whole piece of pie
and you wonder why
you haven't learned to dance
dissonance churns
when you aren't playing
when you cut the jam
and your spread across a sandwich in st. james infirmary
croaking the blues
without the bones to know
your knows from your snot
the fierceness of the charge forward without compromise
your bull in the skull
still, twitching
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
1,2 before bed
keep death in mind and close
looking at trees and sunlight on water drops
wet air deep
parks and play
moments
work with hands
outside
sweat and breathe heavy
push
build things
work on land
looking at trees and sunlight on water drops
wet air deep
parks and play
moments
work with hands
outside
sweat and breathe heavy
push
build things
work on land
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
2
moon tonight was hiding but i was whispered its grandeur
calm for a chase i rode with tea and pursued the pearl with curious sips
and holy blues
(the side note for the evening which must be dealt with - the ancient arrow, the bare bones of music, heard more and more as the blues begins to peel away into my marrow and i can hear it u-shaped on a couch, pure from love, being delivered the soul of robert johnson. the rhythm, the simple complexity. the more you hear the more you feel. the more it is you. like haikus, imprisoned in form, but scraping the greatest depths.)
rattling and cool air licking my face.
moon holding a secret light spraying the sky
giggling around the curtains.
i turn my head to see but no.
i choose to chase the moon tonight so i swerve sideways up a great hill, inhaling the monstrous mountains that outline the majestic evening with a jagged greatness that gives me an odd feeling of a fairytale which then pushes me down a rabit-hole of connected thoughts which leads me to now which happens often which is basically the strangeness of all the days and nights and the twists and characters and plots and terrors and creatures (as i pass by two bunnies moving their tiny noses on the side of the road, ears straight up in all seriousness)and i wonder at the hiding moon and applaud its great act for the evening, thinking i might catch the laughing face some other night if it tempts me a bit more, but tonight was only a small tease in a city of jokes and the chase is always on just like nothing hides forever and we still run everywhere after something, despite the loveliness of standing still, which we sometimes do too
calm for a chase i rode with tea and pursued the pearl with curious sips
and holy blues
(the side note for the evening which must be dealt with - the ancient arrow, the bare bones of music, heard more and more as the blues begins to peel away into my marrow and i can hear it u-shaped on a couch, pure from love, being delivered the soul of robert johnson. the rhythm, the simple complexity. the more you hear the more you feel. the more it is you. like haikus, imprisoned in form, but scraping the greatest depths.)
rattling and cool air licking my face.
moon holding a secret light spraying the sky
giggling around the curtains.
i turn my head to see but no.
i choose to chase the moon tonight so i swerve sideways up a great hill, inhaling the monstrous mountains that outline the majestic evening with a jagged greatness that gives me an odd feeling of a fairytale which then pushes me down a rabit-hole of connected thoughts which leads me to now which happens often which is basically the strangeness of all the days and nights and the twists and characters and plots and terrors and creatures (as i pass by two bunnies moving their tiny noses on the side of the road, ears straight up in all seriousness)and i wonder at the hiding moon and applaud its great act for the evening, thinking i might catch the laughing face some other night if it tempts me a bit more, but tonight was only a small tease in a city of jokes and the chase is always on just like nothing hides forever and we still run everywhere after something, despite the loveliness of standing still, which we sometimes do too
Saturday, March 7, 2009
whenever
bad writing
no things
fuck
weak hands
heavy strings
buzzing chords
ringing
for no one
temptation songs
trip soon
where to, why to, who to,
play songs, how long
will it take
me away
i want a something
never knows
coffee smells
white beach
where's my music
where's my throat
whenever wherever is gone
you have here
no things
fuck
weak hands
heavy strings
buzzing chords
ringing
for no one
temptation songs
trip soon
where to, why to, who to,
play songs, how long
will it take
me away
i want a something
never knows
coffee smells
white beach
where's my music
where's my throat
whenever wherever is gone
you have here
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
101nirvana
when i saw you in the car
with a hot 101 sun and we hadn't showered since yesterday morning
the cigarette and the thick pot smoke tangled up in our skulls
with your sunglasses and cobain singing dumb
and then heavy
5 years younger and there you are
but now and iloveyou
but you change
and i question the line
between me now
and me
when your mind was infected with nirvana
and where we dangled
and collided
and where i've gone and where you are
and who you are
and how i know
and what i don't.
let's talk about ourselves
let's be afraid together
let's get pissed off and yell like i tell you i hate your politics and then we laugh and smoke and get sushi and complain about capitalism
let's see things and do
i want to break through something without a barrier
i want you to be there
i dont' understand the world of connections but strange things happen to us
that must mean something
in all this craziness
you are here
like the twirl of a rose when raindrops burst from the petals
a
with a hot 101 sun and we hadn't showered since yesterday morning
the cigarette and the thick pot smoke tangled up in our skulls
with your sunglasses and cobain singing dumb
and then heavy
5 years younger and there you are
but now and iloveyou
but you change
and i question the line
between me now
and me
when your mind was infected with nirvana
and where we dangled
and collided
and where i've gone and where you are
and who you are
and how i know
and what i don't.
let's talk about ourselves
let's be afraid together
let's get pissed off and yell like i tell you i hate your politics and then we laugh and smoke and get sushi and complain about capitalism
let's see things and do
i want to break through something without a barrier
i want you to be there
i dont' understand the world of connections but strange things happen to us
that must mean something
in all this craziness
you are here
like the twirl of a rose when raindrops burst from the petals
a
sorry worker
you were an ass and i tried to give you love
you tried to get things your way but i had other things to do in other ways
then you got mad and sad
you sorry worker
i'm like you sometimes
and maybe that's why i find you
out of happiness and pissed
i try to fight it
but out of my mouth sometimes can only come a giant
fuck you
and i feel much better
(my position is strange. my age is strange. i call certain shots, but i don't want anyone shot. at the end of the night i'll have a shot. when people get happy it can get thrown at me. when people get angry it always gets thrown at me. but sometimes people won't say it. i watch them. i feel it brewing. i want to grab them by the shirt and tell them to fuck off. that it isnt about them. but then again. it's about someone. always someone has it. this is where we are. in the money machine, in the system, and you can't be a great benevolent manager. you can do your best but you're gonna piss people off sometimes. you're gonna make them hate you. but i can live with that. i find it hard sometimes because i want people to like me, but that's just some weirdness in me that wants people to be happy. maybe trying to avoid conflict, to avoid anger, to keep things cool, to keep things in control...but who knows? i do know now, i really KNOW, that you're always going to piss people off. and some people are just bastards. but they're all just going through their own shit. but maybe they can suck it up and have some respect. and blah blahblah)
you tried to get things your way but i had other things to do in other ways
then you got mad and sad
you sorry worker
i'm like you sometimes
and maybe that's why i find you
out of happiness and pissed
i try to fight it
but out of my mouth sometimes can only come a giant
fuck you
and i feel much better
(my position is strange. my age is strange. i call certain shots, but i don't want anyone shot. at the end of the night i'll have a shot. when people get happy it can get thrown at me. when people get angry it always gets thrown at me. but sometimes people won't say it. i watch them. i feel it brewing. i want to grab them by the shirt and tell them to fuck off. that it isnt about them. but then again. it's about someone. always someone has it. this is where we are. in the money machine, in the system, and you can't be a great benevolent manager. you can do your best but you're gonna piss people off sometimes. you're gonna make them hate you. but i can live with that. i find it hard sometimes because i want people to like me, but that's just some weirdness in me that wants people to be happy. maybe trying to avoid conflict, to avoid anger, to keep things cool, to keep things in control...but who knows? i do know now, i really KNOW, that you're always going to piss people off. and some people are just bastards. but they're all just going through their own shit. but maybe they can suck it up and have some respect. and blah blahblah)
Sunday, March 1, 2009
glucx
get out, go away
pack on your face
buffoons and snakes
say anything
fuck off
i'm clawing into my skin
i'm whispering into my hair
give me a pill and some smoke
where are hopes grown
fuck off, go away
you don't own this
you're soap on my ass
my grapefruit in the morning
my naked body and my fears
my tea when i'm cold
my scotch after work
i built a stone
hate me
loveme
something to say fuck you
leave my space
travel to find a home
wondering in wandering
absolute shit poetry
because i think i need to write
but those people that need
a fuck you
pack on your face
buffoons and snakes
say anything
fuck off
i'm clawing into my skin
i'm whispering into my hair
give me a pill and some smoke
where are hopes grown
fuck off, go away
you don't own this
you're soap on my ass
my grapefruit in the morning
my naked body and my fears
my tea when i'm cold
my scotch after work
i built a stone
hate me
loveme
something to say fuck you
leave my space
travel to find a home
wondering in wandering
absolute shit poetry
because i think i need to write
but those people that need
a fuck you
Thursday, February 26, 2009
mind you
i am tired
now
i write
late
so thoughts sound
loud
and echoes puncture my finger
(the finger with the important words and the lame attempts)
i don't know
why
i
do it
it's like my come. it must leave me
in this form
or that (la la la di da di da di da, A#m, D#, A#m, D#)
for all the choices
we have
we have
only a few
when it comes
to our guts and our bones
our form lies
deep
shivers wrestle
the loneliness
trying to catch a fly
with a match and some dreams
but when i love ya
in the morning
does it wake
up to a beat
or down to your feet
but i don't
know
i
am
tired
now.
before i delete
this
i must
send. then it will be something
that was
not here
now
i write
late
so thoughts sound
loud
and echoes puncture my finger
(the finger with the important words and the lame attempts)
i don't know
why
i
do it
it's like my come. it must leave me
in this form
or that (la la la di da di da di da, A#m, D#, A#m, D#)
for all the choices
we have
we have
only a few
when it comes
to our guts and our bones
our form lies
deep
shivers wrestle
the loneliness
trying to catch a fly
with a match and some dreams
but when i love ya
in the morning
does it wake
up to a beat
or down to your feet
but i don't
know
i
am
tired
now.
before i delete
this
i must
send. then it will be something
that was
not here
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
those days gone
in the cusp of orgasm
blood of summers
wrinkles of clocks
stitching up locks
grown to the floor
who knows who
colors of change at midnight
past limp tumbling over the future
a cartwheel of forgetting
through a smoke ring
at 3:06am
burning a now
for a yes
and a puff of never
a second for the smells of the moon
a once for the tickle of a remember
blood of summers
wrinkles of clocks
stitching up locks
grown to the floor
who knows who
colors of change at midnight
past limp tumbling over the future
a cartwheel of forgetting
through a smoke ring
at 3:06am
burning a now
for a yes
and a puff of never
a second for the smells of the moon
a once for the tickle of a remember
Thursday, February 5, 2009
you SAY
this way
i only said that.
then i remembered
this way
and you said
yes
that.
i only want to cut the corners
and meet you here
you only want to rest your head
but meet me here.
so i wiggle to your side
delicious
with bird chirps and sleepy eyes
sometimes i have trouble adapting and learning
putting myself in new shoes and tip toeing around
but we are liquids
and i float around and i'm thirsty
waterfall?
let's dive
swim with me
sea of
amor
i only said that.
then i remembered
this way
and you said
yes
that.
i only want to cut the corners
and meet you here
you only want to rest your head
but meet me here.
so i wiggle to your side
delicious
with bird chirps and sleepy eyes
sometimes i have trouble adapting and learning
putting myself in new shoes and tip toeing around
but we are liquids
and i float around and i'm thirsty
waterfall?
let's dive
swim with me
sea of
amor
Saturday, January 10, 2009
jamboree prince(ss)
some people are soup
drink it up
hot or cold
spoon or bowl to(o)
the mouth
wet as fog
i laugh drunk
you on edge
goodnight to the kings and queens
in robes and nick drake cocaine brain, red
blue alone
not so bad
strong as my weakdays
slither on
fridays are my mondays and i juggle jamborees when sun
melts make my ice
cream
into
soup.
drink it up
hot or cold
spoon or bowl to(o)
the mouth
wet as fog
i laugh drunk
you on edge
goodnight to the kings and queens
in robes and nick drake cocaine brain, red
blue alone
not so bad
strong as my weakdays
slither on
fridays are my mondays and i juggle jamborees when sun
melts make my ice
cream
into
soup.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
muddy shoes (eventual lyrics)
i got mud on my shoes
broke floors are smooth
no one comes in here no more
fall on my throat with dusty strokes
choked on a foot who lost his hope
you'll see
what to do
where to go
who to know
don't move
hold your luck
keep it cool
let it go
with mud on your shoes
you know where to choose
people know you been in here before
hold your breath at the door
grab a light from the porch
something might be coming for you
don't move
you'll see
who knows
you'll be
keep cool
let go
follow me
let's go
broke floors are smooth
no one comes in here no more
fall on my throat with dusty strokes
choked on a foot who lost his hope
you'll see
what to do
where to go
who to know
don't move
hold your luck
keep it cool
let it go
with mud on your shoes
you know where to choose
people know you been in here before
hold your breath at the door
grab a light from the porch
something might be coming for you
don't move
you'll see
who knows
you'll be
keep cool
let go
follow me
let's go
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