Monday, January 31, 2011

Surfing

Pepper unattended whisker marks
         on ceiling,
light peeks around corner cold
white darkness,
                         Joe bandana
folded over to infinitesimal dimension talking fast
catapult snow melting without
                                  crisp
breathe the meddling air on the
sidewalk ground pavement window smash
uproarious acid Tommy syncronous
unbending movement in conversation
                                             Dave, sailing
couch gray seas, Tiffany hanging from ceiling sun rise,
                                                       apprarently golden

Friday, January 28, 2011

Noon Meeting

And what I'll call     self-indulgent
painted tye-dye painted yuppy royal blue
glass table feet hanging
peace--self--
appearances transparent time is an hour infinte aged
power is diffuse peace is diffuse-
homeless

Thursdays gone

the world's all snow balls cold
frozen tossed at windows hazed
they got the world's all fucked over up
and I'm-
somewhere spinning
spinning
cause the 211's like out there
shit, fucked every which-
that's control I'm out, gone...
messed up cracking extra high 211
swear tomorrow please-
out there gone forgotten farewell
dvd's wasted clear Armageddon
I'm fucked every-which-way beautiful

Thursday, January 27, 2011

Vancouver Lullaby

Snow mountains bend over
Pacific horizons bearing canada cold air heavy on
downward-sloped creeks,
fresh water- freshest in the world-
refills the endless bound cerulean blue-
automobile travel north roof capped and
wanting- missing the all-too-rounded sky
white clouds moving toward landless-
without direction- atmosphere- salt air
islands and the sea, of the sea-

Take a photo of me-

Touch the snow-

melting west

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

I want a free thought society!

I'm fractured
conscious
b e l i e f
fai-
th looking
stone cold mudless ground
for a pen to write this-
down sucking on the tip like
bummin' cigarettes hobo heaven
butt left smoking pavement,
cause no one carries pens
anymore
to drop, just
massaging head fucked
handheld (un)think box screens,
can
any
one
understand Rihanna
has any(no)thing to say
at all
or the inch wide light
that you squeeze your brain into
so you can't aren't able to process
shit
while the trains rolling you home
2 blackberries deep and
God (free thought society, how grand!
what things they have to say) please
stop me from noticing--
How empty I am under this paradise(?)
with angry birds and portable guided Bust-A-Move
concrete arches pretty HD eye caress
where you bury your head
to
die claustrophobic
almost completing a thought
outside computer intestines
that can't be categorized
by ipod app lovely iphone android fantasy
hectic godless freedom
(progress)

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

untitled

Schism world like madness growing old
terror ghoul soul lover inked forgetful
and demons praising god
flowery forgiveness
so your love so your hate
love, spin water aqua life love tenor
mix hatred claustrophobic insomniac
where they caustic i-i-i-i-i-i
fuck't creep,
killer, thought you'd weep and down with
Everything
cause it's fake, cause it's fake

wine toast

Can't focus my-
eyes and what's like- inner weaving
cause you don't travel the waves that we-
built, they're too elevated and dangerous
purging likeness and life
so you can pretend to covet death,
it's in your favor, pretend and
you you you,
binge on it and miss it and drown it
cause from here it's only you
and the red and the pain and killing

Evicted

I got this carry on brigade
and it's writing in the title 
like all non-existent and
tell me why the world's all fucked up
in so many so many kind of ways and
I left it for you
so you wouldn't lose it
cause you left so early in the night-
yet it feels so- sleep- early
and I'm a fool because you're moving

Sunday, January 23, 2011

carry on on on--

We all love our own words
and I wrote this memory for you
silently nowhere, cause I can't
get down outta my head what I don't know-
and others-
they got other hang ups on words too,
that I can't fathom, anyway-
in line like a- but somebody else
got that word I'm lookin for,
I can't have it like bags grayed on
roadside diner sidewalks
and green lights vanished.

Friday, January 21, 2011

I cut up my shirts for thee ever

Your last breath remembered
like a summer breeze crackling through
green alive trees with strange weird fruits(?)
that I can't eat or am afraid to; cause they're small
innocuous, maybe, but they cast over finger cloud stars
like terror and run run run you have to because
you're scared of raised mountain shadows
taking deep heaves of air and falling into the sea,
and I burned tears I never wanted to go away

Time to Choosing

Conjure fairy tales
engulfed by strange crayon color
Maryland sky color pencil scratched
sketched rivers piled high just beneath the surface
with charcoal depths rambling
like this poem rambling gone nowhere
too quickly, aforementioned overlap
confusion, so split it down the center
I'll take my pick either way,
anyway.

Thursday, January 20, 2011

Last Night I

Humans like surrounded by perforating dotted lines
seem so strange so strange standing around
with themselves, their own lives divergent suffering realities
no one cares, but their own emptiness
imposed on walls constricting and ceilings-
when percieved long enough- to short
for any head to think without leaning forward,
obligated mankind, unwanted circle day month years
and death the only victory waiting

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

recliner

A man seated
quietly in corner of room,
old mangled rorange chair,
rocking involuntarily invisible,

greet him dodgedly on the cold war cold unkempt floor
scurry computer quick clicking head down, hair matted
recliner watching over me, hauntingly empty-

like hazelnut shaped dumplings
golden raisin glitter
and haggard feet passing through passing through
aged only to die.

Combinations

Street lamp cast supernova
white dwarf into lately midnight skies,
I'm hurrying home to escape the paranoid
darkness, the story darkness and figures

grieving, penetrating black puddles stagnant water
reformed space, footsteps, sleeping branchs
lullaby winds force faces huddled behind steel sheets
bleached white cloud sky snow, sinister day-lite terrors
and my key blades turning, bleeding
find the locks.

They water the fields

Night receds to irreplacable memory time
lost in days and dreams undreamingly madly
in love with the moving future
shopping cart time bomb
break dance melting existence,
where Angels toast
to falling man and ravenous dogs.

They water the fields.

Along Along Along

Cardboard left overnight,
So, what's he doin' wih his life?
Rinsing in sinks eating pepperoni sausage,
counting dominoes down to infinity,

locking the wheel on suicide curves
and mountain passes
ocean calls faintly

soaring-

10:33pm, 1/18/2011

10:33 words leaking
vibrating cellphones off the
page, or a shower I'm falling-
One beer and my nights really gone to hell,
a block of wood on wooden table, unprotected,
I'm too focused on slight color variations shriek at coffee rings
and spilt paradise.
The door bell rings. Your Pizza.

A Portrait of My Room

Steep hill dog-legs right,
fifty yards up the incline street,
parking permits and miniature yards,
at its peak sunk into the now slopping downward hill,
really sunk to the left, yellowed shingles,
down 5(?) cement steps
and blue cragged roof, around the back,
tip-toe right angle for sale long-ago sign,
I find my room in Maryland winter's driveway
and coverted backdoors, how many miles?
I sleep, vigilant/

(to be read as the beginning of this poem) Like...

Beige carpets showing age
my steps unearth
cross-hatched plastic glue
underneath scuttling rubber shoes,

worn thin,
                Tick-tock

Journey's through
fast food drive-ins and
supermarket self-checkout lanes
(without that unnecessarily necessary small talk)
finds me missing that almost pretty girl
(sad smile and all)
that we'll never know,
                                to forget.
as we drive away-

They used to have a cat...

Stained yellow soul cloth
draped o'er window pill, cold;

outside night air
seeks warmth, dogs howl;

for strangers.

Living Rooms Living Backward

Flower patterned couch
like wild rain starved Pennsylvania meadow
mirror reflects without me,
dead light loves monochrom walls
lighted torch street lamp alleyways,
a toxic blessing, our morning tea.

late afternoon Hyattesville

Put the rhyme on paper,
car horn police sirens,
weighing down eternities,
like that cobweb book case slouching
at the center tired and laden with
(unread) books, slumber
a fantasy unbelieving enough to unmake us all

Picture of my America (Clifton Heights)

At this very moment
cars pulling up to drive thru windows
before Egg McMuffins become
Big Macs rush to afternoon jobs
on the big city pavements of the suburbs
tagged Route 1 or US-number
all the same with flashing lights
timed seconds green-red-yellow
drivers absently following tapping wheels
pedestrians making way to supermarket nightmares
and childhood dreams in schools pock-marked with
Oak trees 50 years mature,

Road chugs on unbridled by anti-depressant wish-lists
cornered by rising squat liqour stores on your sidewalk turn,
on all our corners looking for a drink a taste some change
some dream, walked by passed or forgiven years before the hospitals
outside the city fell.

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

pool

Disease is a lie I'm drowning pool side in nevermore clear fields (wheat cools leaning in breezes floating south spores) little boys stealing towels while she's in the water knee deep to the shoulders wet and sparkle sunshine eyes watching (sun bleeds yellow on the earth eternity point in time future red and burning all) today with the gate closed and security guards at home sleeping sleep dreams out beyond work (so what?) she left us no choice but to stare and hope (rising from cool aqua blue)

Laugh

House lights up like rocket fire
shanty-town memory collage
painted panorama angel's pierrot
like everything is white and see-thru
closing in on cameras clicking at lightening speed
striking the ground, soft earthy green
forgetfulness, and I miss the laughter
behind your smile.

Monday, January 17, 2011

Best Western

There's a pear
leans against a vase
green-red ripe
flowers blended
maroon impression.
Who paints the water
Baltimore?

Friday, January 14, 2011

ask and you know

The phone swirling
or the sound pleading to get out
leave the informed the movers the born-with-that-silver-spoon-fuck
wine and before we left weed
in the underbelly charity encore to what?
Oh who gives a shit, Christ it's 10 o'-
I'm a faggot you're a faggot biggest faggot in the--
tell a little story too-
if you can hear it in the morning over
red pounding head with legs,
it's got them anyways
thanks for the call
and missed your voice calling out into nothing

girl over beers

Shattered longings-
     little girls mitten and
awkward see-thru barbie legs
    veins trickle drip-drip-drip
orange tinge painting micro-brew
    and all I could think
as he leaned-and-talked-and-friendly-ed
    was he molested this girl
over kitchen table top
    years ago and how-
we are now,
    and he said they are made up,--
Everything is made up

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Quick Sentence Dance

Your dreams are word dreams blotted shimmer red in this pharmaceutical lolli-pop civilized complexity word-weepingly terrific nothing
                              in which of course anyway
we all have death to await us in reclining chairs traveling at same speed neverending love
                             -ing lazily

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Close

Close your eyes Tom
tie-dye streams pulsing beneath my chin
like bleeding blue-green-white-ageis on black paper
Close your eyes Tom
crossed the-the-barrier-the-line-
can't go back, between
Close your eyes Tom
cause my brains about to---
implode on itself
unless I clear these memories
Close your eyes Tom
of nothing, I can't recall your face
though I invented it...
Close your eyes Tom
I'll never go back, now I know the truth-
seeker sayer, I wanted nothing
this is not good, I don't wanna do this
Close your eyes Tom
there's images just beyond my eeeeeeyes
that look- I have no- I- remember
Close your eyes Tom
falling backwards, oh god, falling backwards
oh god god god and I've found him
that terrible existence that terrible lonely existence
what is past present future past,
and why he ran away

Love Letters Left Unsaid

Wrote this love letter
eating purple suns,
purple suns like a child painting
grape and I only 5'7
chewing universal power plants
there were three, then four multiplying violet supernova
in foil harmony advertisement outer space,

Ya, take the Green line
I'll take mine forward
or is it forthright to time,
space spoke repititous
meandering life rebirths,

Christ, I can't close my eyes
to two dimensional Oak trees Branches,
Reaching out making sure I seal the wholes holes
my pupils cut in the back-foreground of-
of-- rivers remarkably electric colors,

Hold on- I'll hold on--
Your skinny tanned legs against mine starkly white
short hair fragrant feminine
shield watching eyes to the difference waking,
when you sleep my world losses its only truthful
believer soul.

Torrentially unmade.

Monday, January 10, 2011

On this note, I God, Recreate

This is how we
turn the box universe--al
nature of time
dilated time flowing
outward toward fingers
colors molting parasol
twist it and my chin is
tormented toward pillow flamingos strips
forever sadly
this world is a falsity paradise
I write it.
Chicken scatch.

...

How far away is the past?
Can't remember beyond years

...

The Mexico I dream is
a waste of paper
Shillings, an-
a good gift
lowered

...

What do I write for?
Nothing happens
I don't understand
Illusions are inconsequential ecstacy

...

No ends or birth
dank street snow
like paper poly-color orgasm
It's sad, if I let them know
they're constructs, will
I be forced to live alone
in memorial darkness?

...

Afraid to get up
thirsty, will the
universe lose itself
in porno-lying freckle bloody explosion?

...

We're come by ways
shredding space
outside unreality
I hesitate to admit
I'm the cause,
Let there be Light!

...

I could care loo
o
o
o
o
o
o
o
o
o
ng
enough to wrap this
never existence in
my memories

What is snow?

But I asked
Human Trust.
Abyss.

...

I wonder if my novels
ever lied
If they're all false then,
I never littered outside...

...

When I find these in my back pocket
In the morning
hours hours
I'll forget it's all false
and live-

...

Did the machines wince
when they birthed us
into terrifying existence,
weeping.

Thursday, January 6, 2011

Eastern

Facing East
Prostrate submissive pious
without shoes in the cold, public
unself-conscious in late afternoon
blue darkness of oblivion, spirit
thousand miles thousand lifetimes
rhythmic mat covered ground,
prayer obligation love
Faithful.
I envied him

there few blocks away walking
a kitten crossed gravel road, suffering

I called out-
I knew him once, suffered together
The sky becomes dark with so many memories

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

So High Up

Suffer to watch the world living,
touch the alleyways that broadcast
my lack of thought, back of fist against forehead
sweating in the cold, sweating out weight
like breath seeping out from under me,
hissing from my lungs emergency brake
UHaul quickly forcing its way into traffic,
grinding out its idiot life on four rubber tires
and metal, screaming yellow stop-
yield- all is emptiness under the spiraling
suns-

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Tapping

Can't ya really know anything,
like someone crouched down
low in golden weeds, baked to crispy tasteless
nutritionless poking daggers by the winter sun,
high in the air and staggered
thinking hills roll by toward
whats after us, in the bleary darkness
that, saddened and empty, plays those
very few chords that we all know?

Tap our feet to unconsciously
moving on with dirt and mud and whichever whatever else
anyway marking frayed jeans, really frayed in the mind
without a designer getting fat,
who hears the chords, pretends avoids taps
loves despairs smiles seeing it's all meaningless
All of it fake, and he dies dies for real, not for the cameras
and he forgets about tearing clothes, forgets wearing them blind
tap ignores the calls smiling frays

oooooh can't we ever lying know?

Monday, January 3, 2011

Happy New Years Arkansas

5,000 black birds flying
red wings falling in the streets
cop cars swerving town sanitation trucks weave,
the mayor tugs at his underwear
at the phone at the window anyway
waking early on this apocalyptic morn,
January first the clouds are storms
or sky puppets overcast. ask John.