I measured my beauty
in a neutral gray room
your heart was an island
my fingers slipped through
You're over there
I'm standing here
You keep your balance
I'll keep after truth
Friday, May 27, 2011
Peel-Off Frown
my insides an earthquake
my skin melts the moon
the whole world streaks through me
like smoke fills my room
windows scream whispers
door hinges groan
I'm waiting in starkness
all heavy of soul
blood tunnels gushing
limbs treading sound
puddles like pancakes
as sticky as frowns
my skin melts the moon
the whole world streaks through me
like smoke fills my room
windows scream whispers
door hinges groan
I'm waiting in starkness
all heavy of soul
blood tunnels gushing
limbs treading sound
puddles like pancakes
as sticky as frowns
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Like So Many Broken Yolks
The splatter pattern
cracked a grin
Toddled sideways back at him
Pinched a nerve
Proclaimed him cured
and Spat it tattered out at him
cracked a grin
Toddled sideways back at him
Pinched a nerve
Proclaimed him cured
and Spat it tattered out at him
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Friendly Analogies and a Shameful Ought.
I know a guy who sees the world
through rose-colored glasses.
In quite a literal fashion.
I think the world sees me
through x-ray goggles, or an MRI scan.
Defying my right to wear skin.
I'd rather they think me impervious.
I'd rather I thought me impervious.
If only I'd been impervious
when I first seduced destruction.
I've never been shy of flying
but now the noise of machines
makes my stomach heave
and long for the ground 'neath my feet.
My meaning needs liberation
or even a weekend vacation
I'm so sick of this form, of its wanting
when what I ought to be is grateful.
Shameful.
goddamn these winters linger.
through rose-colored glasses.
In quite a literal fashion.
I think the world sees me
through x-ray goggles, or an MRI scan.
Defying my right to wear skin.
I'd rather they think me impervious.
I'd rather I thought me impervious.
If only I'd been impervious
when I first seduced destruction.
I've never been shy of flying
but now the noise of machines
makes my stomach heave
and long for the ground 'neath my feet.
My meaning needs liberation
or even a weekend vacation
I'm so sick of this form, of its wanting
when what I ought to be is grateful.
Shameful.
goddamn these winters linger.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
The special secret sickness
I fear my heart's come down with sadness, she said
and walked away
Nothing to do but wait, he said, as his fingers soothed the ivory
he sought the appropriate tone to mirror the weight of her affliction
imagined she'd be drifting in the notes of haunting melodies
they were strangers then and separate
and the lonely weighed so heavy
there wasn't anything to do but wait for waves to take their love away
and walked away
Nothing to do but wait, he said, as his fingers soothed the ivory
he sought the appropriate tone to mirror the weight of her affliction
imagined she'd be drifting in the notes of haunting melodies
they were strangers then and separate
and the lonely weighed so heavy
there wasn't anything to do but wait for waves to take their love away
Thursday, November 4, 2010
The Jarring Words Cure
caged by glory shouting names
creak and hobble toward the rain
crackpot
bangup
starcrossed
hiccups
all parading down the drain
cram the poignant pepper puffs
headlines tell of loudmouth stuff
crazy kooks
immortal dogs
pray that preaching's not enough
snarky sounds will soothe your cool
give the quickness ample room
bleed out
scream out
let it out
speak the sticky passion pools!
creak and hobble toward the rain
crackpot
bangup
starcrossed
hiccups
all parading down the drain
cram the poignant pepper puffs
headlines tell of loudmouth stuff
crazy kooks
immortal dogs
pray that preaching's not enough
snarky sounds will soothe your cool
give the quickness ample room
bleed out
scream out
let it out
speak the sticky passion pools!
Friday, October 15, 2010
Instinctive feelings
worry is such a joyless game
but what if god's an empty phrase
who will watch the boiling pot
to keep us floating to the top?
but what if god's an empty phrase
who will watch the boiling pot
to keep us floating to the top?
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