Come and Go

January 12, 2010  :: 0 comments

Standing at the window
at the coming (or going?)
Vehicles of expression
winding through
roads of discovery, loss
as we’re tossed into the arms
of long arrivals, short conversations,
sad goodbyes on the borders of away.
Changes pass rapid
through watery eyes,
ripping out a piece of heart
at every leaving,
as we stand with lantern lit,
awaiting the return exchange.

Timeless

featured in the poetry forum January 12, 2010  :: 0 comments

Then is a lame horse
unable to stand on four legs.
It limps along in misery,
but we are too attatched
to fire that final bullet
and end its suffering.

Now is a faery wisp,
nymph flitting from flower to flower,
and we with our butterfly net
full of holes, vainly trying to snag the prize,
when it is right before us if we just stand still.

(But we will not)

Insufferable are we,
reaching ever forward
for that tommorrow that is nearer than we think,
sacrificing today for a glimpse at a puff of smoke.

Sit.
Breathe.
Then and now coexist with tomorrow
in a netherworld of mist and shadows,
and we will have it all
if we open up our clenched fists
to let it fly free, a sycamore seed
that hovers in the sun splayed breeze.

Opium

featured in the poetry forum November 12, 2009  :: 0 comments

Petals falling on the glassy surface,
picked one by one,
illusions sinking fast,
the weight of fact upon them

(the truth be, the truth be not…)

Words are only lies
if the real is hidden
behind a dance of veils.

(spin, doctor, spin)

Take that head off the platter,
it makes for a bitter dish
and eyes are better used to see.

Tongues are rather used for speaking
out when all are mouthing platitudes
meant to silence all adversaries,
but used as a rallying cry
for those well tired of bullshit.

Opiates are mirrors and mist
religion the final destination
of those too lazy to find the answers,
dogma being the pet of the masses
who gladly eat what’s fed them.

If you need a hero, be one yourself,
walk hand in hand with your own two hands,
and pledge your love to you.
It will be a match made on Earth
that lasts through the eternities.

(you may now kiss the mirror)

Emo

November 12, 2009  :: 0 comments

I heard you were searching for darkness.
Come with me and I’ll lead the way
past shining manakins with plasticine skin
who grin and preen in the deepening gloom.
Blow out that infernal candle,
it will not be needed in this room.

I will ponder your poisons,
powerful potions to bring on forget,
the hair of the dog, the bite of the widow
numb warmth infusion erasing regret,
replaced with tunnel vision,
blinders on the Rider’s horse.

I will send a sharp retort,
a strop to hone it to a lethal point,
a view of a blue vein,
a slice for a life,
a drop upon a brittle lip
to seal that waxy crest, a missive’s end.

And I will send you my nightmares
as I have so much to spare
renting my restlessness night for night
the punishment you seek within your sight,
for I have packed my phantoms in a velvet bag,
and left it here for you with lock and key.

The night holds no more mystery for me,
so many years I walked along this path
now coming lastly to this precious fork
I choose the way that’s lit with colors true,
and leave my ghostly memories with you
who are more skilled at courting tragedy.

High

November 12, 2009  :: 0 comments

High on school;
a bad acid trip
made worse by monotony,
endless repetition
of useless facts
to kill the days
til they dressed you up,
kicked you out,
unprepared,
un caged,
ready to fire.

(Rah rah ree)

Kick up those skirts

(I’m not wearing underwear)

The nerds are salivating
the jocks gesticulating
the stoners oblivious
the Goths indigenous
black and invisible
laughing at the whores
smoking in the bathroom (girl’s bathroom)
boy’s bathrooms for cheerleaders
blow job foreplay
before play
mud under the bleachers.

And I comatose
learning by osmosis
the time of my life
til the end of my sentence,
give me my diploma
a pat on my ample ass
gas in the Pinto
putting full speed
into real.

The only good thing
about that institution
was finally leaving
and finally learning

(Life is not a High School)

Godless

October 5, 2009  :: 0 comments

We are godlike

If god is an idiot,
remorseless in his uselessness,
fervent in his never right,
omnipotent in his small, small pond.

And we are doughy,
shapeless monsters wrought
with broken glass and splinters,
molded into forms of beasts
on pointed barbs.

Atoms squeezed
to breaking point;
always one odd electron
where there should be none,
squeaking, imploding,
black hole eyes
the mirror to no soul.

We are everything,
and we are nothing.
Hapless children born
to be anything

But god

Enter CAD

featured in the poetry forum October 5, 2009  :: 0 comments

My life is neither
here nor there
but always in the flux
between the two;
now and later
being concepts the mind
refuses to accept.

My feet are pointed
in the direction
they must travel,
one leg follows the other
in an endless journey
to the other side.

26 letters make up
a universe of thought,
as if the keyboard
reaches to infinity,
fingers stretching
to achieve the last word.

And the last word, as always,
will grow to be these three:
Control, Alternate, Delete

It’s MY pie

featured in the poetry forum October 5, 2009  :: 0 comments

I slip, incognito
into the blindness of the day,
happy to meander sightless,
braille touch to hot coals
while my goose is cooked,
tender to the knife
and obviously forked up.

A morsel for your mercy,
tasty poison in a loving cup,
delivered in a rendered sauce
for a hypocrite’s gander.

I duck from the solar flares,
far from the gamma rays
of exploding suns,
run to the icy regions
where the spots don’t reach,
cool in my unique sameness.

Delivered ready to eat
into the fires of my own making.
Captured in the hungry mouth
of a jealous Satan,
I have stolen from him
my own little slice
of Hell.

The Beach

featured in the poetry forum August 3, 2009  :: 0 comments

The beach has
aromas of shells
and dead fish
here on the waterline
where the tide rolls in.
Green bits flounder,
ripped apart
from their offshore home;
gulls peck
at the fleshy remains,
find nothing of substance;
head to the jetty
for the chance
of a rock smashed
June repast.

Children run
past shattered castles,
kicking remnants on
98 pound weaklings
who even Atlas
simply shrugged off.

Under the boardwalk
the scents are different;
taffy, and French fries,
the briny smell
of last night’s amateur
excursions.
Clubs
are shuttered
in the light of day,
dark with their
Don’t ask, don’t tell
attitudes.

I am near
with my net
and detector,
searching as always
for meaningless treasure.
Salt dries
on leather
as I secret
my cache,
grains gathered
one by one
in cut glass jar,
remedy now for
broken
hourglasses.

I still hear laughter
from the far off Casino,
long before
Conventions were abandoned,
the round,
smiling clown
against the blue paint,
urging all
to come in and play,
away from
the burning boards.

An albatross soars,
soiling the rusting rails,
low rent paradise
even the Pony abandoned.
Water infected
with flesh-eating foulness,
sun refracting
against endless fog.

It’s 1972,
it’s eternity;
cruising by
Asbury’s rotting piers,
carousel creaking
in the endless turns
of memory.

Bugged

July 1, 2009  :: 0 comments

Sanctity.
Life is sacred,
even for the
tiniest souls
walking the short tight rope
between Heaven and Hell,
the final verdict
of smashing hand
or careless boot
inches away
from microscopic microcosm.

Unmindful of invisible universe
teeming in a waterdrop,
go about a busy day
like marching ants
on endless hill,
bending, fetching
drum of cadence
drowning out
all other music.

How very Zen-like;
this mini denizen
so blithely strolls
across astonished fingers
in forever quest
from here to there.