Thursday, April 17, 2014

COntext CLUEs

HOw'z'it'nOW
I'mjust NOw realizing
justnOW that the moOn
peeksout from leftsideof
building standingstark in
front of me and all blood
moon eclipse I'm watching
wrong direction, THen,
that was then, I was,
I couldn
't wrapp my head '
roud which way which was
it, &living on north/south by north
south highway makes that
pretty sad NOw I kNOw,
I said it myself like,
HOw'z'it'thEN
I'mstill NOt thinking
thisthrough right just not
sinking into where it hastogo#
I just(forget it) I just (I'm gonna
end it) my thoughts scatter like
scatter liek thoughts given way
din-din-din--din-din-din--din
it's en it's en its end is ending
is GOne oh no oh god ah fuck
oh why why why
I wouldn'
t
t
ttttttttttttttttttttttttttttt--
hold the k(e)y
WHy'z'it'We find ourselves
here //SO oftEN//

Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Some days

I'm a big ol' blank slate
with no words,
a terrible failure of a
poet with nothing to say,

I've been lying on the floor
drifting in and out,
sleeping 12 hours a day,
wondering why I can't write,

forcing myself up
every now and then
to vomit out some bile,
to click and save,

I tell myself to ignore it, that
it's a rough patch, that they come
and they go, I can't decide
between coffee or wine

I pour both

I drink neither

I go back to staring at the ceiling, I
try to keep my eyes open,
I fail

I'd rather dream about
all the writing I'm not doing,
I'd rather not think about it.

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Same old

Rainy
grey
same old
place
umbrellas
ticking clocks
shoes
walk to
work
same old
thing
another day
same old
people
sentences
yes
no
pretty good
and you?
desk
lamp on
computer
hums
bodies
moving in
and out
revolving doors
beige building
facade
acronyms
breakfast coffee
lunch
same time
same roads
no windows
carpeted floors
murmur of
useless conversations
uh huh
numbers
oh
clock moves
slowly
I can't see
myself here
but I'm
here
what do I
look like
outside
I don't
belong

where am I
going
why aren't I
going?
why am I
here?

10:17

powers down
blood moon behind
thick rain clouds
soaked this morning
right arm left arm
bandana under hat
waited up, couldn't see
eclipse through heavy
sky, what a waste, what
a har-har-something-somerthing
argher-hargh-argh-sumetin-
hag-aw-well, sleep outside
sleep on stomach dream crash
nightmare see thought like those
thoughts you get moments before
sleep come like crashing waves
images bleeding into each other
like reading a story and seeing the
picture in your head, at night tonight
in the night I am hearing this and seeing
in steady streams what I am believed to see

every morning I look at my bed and think, "I
should cover the mattress with a sheet," and every
night I look at the bed thinking nothing and fall asleep.

Monday, April 14, 2014

Sunday, April 13, 2014

A conversation over type; I'm still looking for my first badge

now that I('m)
done saying all the important
things I thought to s(ay)
I can (dis)appear
(and) you won't have to
go on missing me
or my words.

I'll pick the letters for
my tombstone anagram

that'll have the scholars talking in
a hundred years

"what'd he mean by it?" "What was he trying to say?"

"Is it a puzzle?" "Are there clues hidden in his work?"

If they point to this poem,
if it's still hanging around,
make sure let them know it
was a set-up a cosmic joke
a big laugh

the alphabet has (english) 26 letters

I've used every single one of them.

scouts honor.

Sunday

you just sit here
and type following the
keys hitting enter
hitting space hitting letter
hitting shift without glancing
at the screen just going along with the song
sound of silence instrumental
version spring night rev of
cars whistle of air through
tree branches already blooming
red tinted flowers gone
chimes, guitar strum acoustic
slow drum haunting notes
light becomes starker the difference
sunday night head starts beating
with work hours of free release
ending back to cell doors gates
tomorrow, bongo drum duk-buk-dunk
waits again sky is still navy
visible buildings lighting up
hum of tires sounds like steady
drizzle, I'd enjoy it if it rained
could sleep outside, song starts over
repeat one long endless circle-thing
minutes click thinking of getting pocket
watch felicia types away rosamond
wears a path room to kitchen sffffffff
sfffffffff sfffffffffffff rug to tiles flip flops
on sfffffff clack sfffffffff clack
kitchen door kitchen light baking
sunday night sad song dun-da-da dun-
silence.

Admonishment

Read I've Shouted... without
realizing it was only three
quarters typed out, last 3 pages
made a lot of sense for the overall
theme, but I guess it was
unnecessary
for the reading, or maybe
that's me making
excuses for fucking up,
who knows probably is
I won't say, but it sits on my
conscious now, I can't shake it,
like something undone, or a word
I can't quite grasp tho I know the
damn meaning I want and need
oh well, I say I'm saying I'm telling
get'em next time make sure it goes smooth
make sure you type the fucking thing out
quit giving in early up early
take fucking notes.

Saturday, April 12, 2014

Notes on a napkin

every now and then
there's this moment when
a waiter has to reach extra far
in order to hand me my coffee
and I'm caught in between
reaching out and taking it from them
or sitting back and watching
them lean all the way across
the table to place it in front of me,
this usually ends with me
staring at them until the coffee is
gingerly left in front of me
and I stare at the cup and mutter
thank you as they walk
away.

looking around

page count
set to constant reset
my toenails are too long
but they grow so god damn fast
I am naked
sitting on my robe,
I wonder why the windows are closed
but I don't get up,
I'm too busy typing
there was a group of girls
on the balcony below
they didn't stay up too late
probably tired from work or school
retire after a few drinks
I taste beer in my throat
tho I've had none,
writing poetry always conjures
that taste, like stale pretzels
and old beer, like failure
or tiny pin pricks on my scalp,
I felt my stomach drop
when I got my hair trimmed today
like my intestines slipped out
and back in, like a roller coaster ride,
like vertigo, maybe,
I understand there's something beyond,
it was written in the fallen strands,
dead ends, wet curled forgotten
cuts,
I wish the light could be dimmed
but it's one setting,
I am alone in the night that's too much
like the day, poison light,
what must be going on all those miles away,
it must be something,
I think I'll sleep soon,
I'll do it for those who can't,
there's always somebody awake
when they shouldn't be, somewhere.

Thursday, April 10, 2014

Dream Face

You take the little pieces
of me that rot and fall away,
and kiss them good night,

there is a room
that leads to another
room of the same size
that leads to another
room of the same size
that leads to still another
room of the same size
and so on

the door cuts the back of each room
a standing rectangle
a single flight of stairs
leads up,

there's a drug to share our thoughts
there's bodies sleeping on the floor

you I we me step around them
over them,

the windows are slits cut into the walls
light barely fights its way through

I look in the mirror
I see myself

I am surprised.

If I don't get out there soon, I'll die II

You know she's calling to me,
great siren of the west,
yellow flower, desert rose,
mountain girl, and I'm
looking for those pacific blue
eyes, those endless cerulean swells,
I'm ready to answer the call,
I need my foot on that pedal,
that white-lined road,

You know I'm calling to her,
golden haired beauty,
pioneers dream, snow
white dress, and she's
looking for me to make it,
singing her song,
blearing that blue sky to heaven oh,

you know,
you know--

If I don't get out there soon, I'll die--

Bear Poems

tearing your heart out
frozen in place
damp air damp legs
you wobble you teeter
growling at some unknown pain
a phantom of the ceiling fall
or can you see outside,
I know, you're life-sized
but off, the mass isn't there,
the bulk, silent roar mouth ends
teeth sharp, amp behind you,
microphone, you won't need it,
I'll speak for you, if that's allowed,
you haven't moved, there's a gash
there's a roll, there's words,

what are you doing out here,
in the cold?

Friday, April 4, 2014

Figure in a Dream

dim lights flicker,
camera pans to man
at table, bent over bowl of
rice, he's scrapping pieces
stuck to the side, zoom in
to bowl, hand holds large
candy-bar-like-of-rice, mouth
bites down, enter skull, nose
eyes, looking out, man is me,
in Joe's apartment, but looks
like when I lived there, feels
like it, tho now kitchen table
is in living room, I take another
bite, Felicia walks out from other
room, she moves to sit across from
me, pulling out a chair, the light
flickers off and on, there's a man
on the stairs, a shadow, coming
toward us, I try to speak, nothing,
he's closer every pulse, closer, and still
nothing,
I am somehow able to stand,
he's here.

Thursday, April 3, 2014

Manifesto

I am returned champion,
I am david meets goliath,
I have met the Greek choruses,
given them songs to sing,
I will be reincarnated in the past,
present, future, I will disprove
linear time, I have watched
the sun replace the moon
and back across 7,000 miles
with no sleep, I have pondered
the stars, become the stars,
I am a flashing comet,
I sad jester, a homebound hobo,
I have done nothing which is
everything, I see no value in gold
am too poor to melt it all,

I belong to noone
and everyone, I see the lines
and strings, the prediction
the reckoning, I understand
so little of it,

I am one thing one instance
one piece of the whole stretched
back towards all time,

I have written nothing
that has not come before.