Tuesday, December 17, 2013

3D Haze

there was a 3-D haze
across my ceiling last night
a schism on my mind
and a dream ending with eyes
open, feeling something was off,
something was gone, can't remember
now what it was that I lost,
but I know it was important, I noticed it
fading on the vibrating lines to the
frequency of the red/blue mind
and when I woke up later on the ceiling
was white again, day was day again,
night was night, but that feeling
was somehow hanging there,
was I watching it? or was it watching me?
I couldn't tell and I can't explain it now,
I'm still not sure if I am the same.

Sunday, December 15, 2013

A Supplication; The Road II

Somewhere deep within america
traveling down the gray corroded arteries
of the continent, metal monsters
carry weary souls home
to rest, to worry, to long for more,
to wonder on thoughts lost,
to climb the snow topped mountain of the soul,
to pry into the immortal desert night,
great heroes unknown
but to themselves, writers of the great novels
of the american tapestry, shadows in
the grand obscurity, I lay you to rest under
the mighty redwood tombstones of the west,
I pledge my life and word to you,
I drink to your memory,

forever must you be forgotten,
Amen.

Pottery and man and science and fools

Going to delve into something
without pronouns, without
collective failure, have to
deconstruct the failing winds,
falling backward, heard there
was a faltering mess like
the universe, skipping, inching behind,
unnoticeable but to a few;

call the idiots, toss each to
the dogs, where are these
rain drops coming from,
ask the milky way hologram,
ask the sky god, calling
calling, calmly;

woe but for the dreaming
monster eating those final days,
there aren't many left--
starving fool, sleeping nightmare--
toss the bones away,
solidifying in human audacity,
pride, follow the religion,
the only one,

ancient and everlasting,
the snake is both science
and holy, what isn't understood,
no love, no love,
get it?

stuffed with additives

All stuffed with additives,
chemically imbalanced,
I stagger through your
dreary streets, seeking
pharmaceutical knowledge,

mix up the stagnant puddle
cocktails, drink it down,
I am the author of my own
fantasy, picking concrete flowers
hands all around, muddled

head spinning disconnected,
it's raining--for you--it was
raining earlier, tonight,
now sun is yellow, warm,
golden sinking belly, behind
winter clouds,

story is working right, isn't
working right, I'm far behind,
saw her coat turn the corner,
watched her legs, click of heels,
didn't say anything,
this is monotonous, this is as it should be,

I am afraid we've lost this collective outrage,
it's hard waitin' in the media-mush breadlines
to keep conscious, to regulate caloric intake--
out of the timeout, 2nd and 10--
what am I saying about time?

I dunno, but it was unedited,
it was never-ending
it was at the moment--
memorable...

skip the unpleasant

I imagine myself moving,
can't stay still, I'm already off
on that endless road, I ask myself,
"why stand still?" "why not rhyme?"
come with me,
I am going nowhere, going somewhere,
just un-clench the break, speed through
time, accept nothing, expect nothing,
skip the unpleasant between the lines
is summer that far away? has the last
one slipped through my grip...?

have I anywhere else to go?
have I anything left to wish for?

I ask the stars, expecting to be left
unanswered.

Monday, December 9, 2013

Dreaming 2 hours late

she was covered in tatttoos,
otherwordly, vibrant colors
I clung to her leg, naked,
brown, glowing, on her
stomach dripping to her
thigh a flower of the very
void of mankind's abyss,
blue and somehow not, there
was something else and I asked her
if they hurt, and she was scentless
and sparking and I kissed her
skin, sexless, humming, the images
seemed to move, I etched them in my
mind as she was turning away,
I forced myself through the fog,
I managed one more glance...

untitled

Away from me you'll fly,
like this title,
like my life, into the void,
I have seen it happen,
watch it happen now
as snow sluggish, marches on
white city from white distances
in the west, I have carried a candle
for you, burning wax off my fingertips,
dry, I have seen how this ends,
and it's so silly, it's so inevitable,
away from me, I'll die.

Sunday, December 8, 2013

Christmas Card

Parked up next to
empty lot snowy mix
falling, gray sky spinning
halos of white about our heads,
seems like winter now,
or Christmas or both,
if I had time to consider
it, but december is here,
I missed the last few months
the last few years,
all washed out in white.

Saturday, December 7, 2013

Letters

I'll scatter a message
to you across the gray roads of
America,
you'll have to get out there
to read it
tho,
you'll have to get
that pack up on your
shoulders,
you'll have to sleep
beneath the million billion
stars,
you'll have to know
Utah in the cold blazing
night,
You'll have to find
the Rocky Mountains freezing under winter's
chill,
You'll have to catch
that Pacific ocean with the sun yellow coming
down,
You'll have to remember all
the stories I sang to you that
night,
You'll have to look back
and see yourself in the blue-green
hills,
it's there you'll find the
letters waiting, written in cloudy american
skies,
It's there you'll understand
why I left them for
you,
and why you have to keep going--

Thursday, December 5, 2013

23rd st. works from home

23rd street
fires, cars ablazin',
driver gettin' his laundry
and the story at the taco
truck is building with each
half known fact/each lie
says, "anybody in there?"
(the whole car is up in flames
now, smoke billowing 3 stories
and adjacent buildings fire
alarms squealing)
someone earlier had seen him
exit stage right, (said
might he maybe have struck
a pole--no damage to the hood tho)
so we repeat it (that the driver escaped)
figuring he probably did looking
to call for help (?)
and now everyone with
their phones out is free
to click and save misfortune--
least nobody died--fire trucks
ambulance hose water things
all out--a wonder of the first world,
23rd street 12pm Crystal city
lunch break tacos
stop.

Tuesday, December 3, 2013

There's nothing

consider me a day behind
darlin',
a dollar beyond, under the
cascading star blanket
headed west long ago--did I pick up the
tab? No, I don't think so,
I was already gone--

so write me sweet letters,
and cry and moan and wail,
I've forgotten everything
left behind in pictures, still
I regret leaving you,

but I'm so far out,
I can't see anything back there--
years are fuzzy memories
faces eyes smiles remarks

I carry them all on my back
like white light
there's nothing, nothing,

there's nothing

Monday, December 2, 2013

You ever get to leave?

You got an old hat
spins on its shelf alone,
some odd square foot ledge
and nothing in between
that and floor and rising
tide, age and circumstance
play a game around it,
old fashioned hat, isn't fit to
wear 'til the sun come
knock it down, on the last day
watching earth plummet into
the forever ooze of primal space,
you'll be wearing that ole hat then
I swear,
making sense like ya got to always do,
never,
I swear it's swelling under the waves
pink lemonade cuts the shore
in half/halts/wilts
while you--whilst I--nagging
mind numb feeling of collapse,
and the hat, gonna sit and stare
at the aftermath,
explain it to you--
on the note left on the bronze plaque,

you ask "what's engraved there?"--
"what was it that I wrote?"

I 'll save it for another day,
cause I'm forced to move on,
left all my books on the shelf underneath too,

we're all forgetting some soul there,
watching out,
we'll all be dust in some bygone age,
the hats looking on,
calling our bluff--