Alaska dawn
light seeps through windows
another morning lying
beside you
match, light, curl of smoke
cigarettes held lightly
between bruised lips
lazy limbs in a tangle
a lock of your hair
lay across my throat
like a cornsilk rope
I don’t belong to you
i don’t
even know
if we belong together
but feels like forever
since i’ve been home
and somehow
i’m tied to you
by silky strands of hair
icicle blue stare
the rough sweetness
of a drunken midnight kiss…
Outside, rain slips
into snow
hits the window
like little whispers
like your breath in my ear
like your fingers
lightly holding mine
like a breath
caught and suspended
like snowdrops
on my tongue
something of you
lingers in me
when you’re not here
although
those days are rare
still i tell myself
i don’t belong to you
and i really don’t care…
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Orphaned (1990)
Orphaned now in the candle zone
the lush blister reunites the prisoner
of time with his own house
on a private beach
that will never be real
his eyes give him away
busy and productive actors
still talking nonsense
the future is not true
the bitter end is not the end
we perish in our own lullabies
left with our last words
we become the moon's hostages
our eyes the color of mud
disappearing beneath our feet
it is time we took off our masks
*
I won't participate (1985)
I won't participate
as much as I possibly can!
that big mouth over there is murdering me
I've been saying the same thing all along
they taught us how to speak
the mission is to tether your will
to temporary relief
by crawling into their mouths
but I didn't know you could Yodel
goodbye to everything
I can go on like this for hours
when I have to mow the lawn
let's talk about the revolution
at first I didn't prefer playing alone
but it was always better than company
company was hard on my knees
all plans are contiguous
at least in the minds of victimologists
who watch time kill them and curse
I'm glad it came and I'm glad it went
(I'm not listening either)
the rains aborted the vapors
withered my nipples before my eyes
could refocus I spilled
the entrails of the bird and cat taffy
stick to the night
I'm still talking about evolution
the elixirs and portions
its just the bubbles that make you feel full
its funny though how you can ask without smiling
the birdsong is missing
its no picnic here
I don't know how to explain this once in a lifetime
your way or no way
and sheer fiction had never occured to me!
is this as close to real life as you can imagine?
I walk like a child with a man on his back
but never mind fat during polite conversions
Welcome! to you!
I'll be empty later...
there's nothing I can do about it!
are you the police?
"THE VOID"
... in the void - then a thematic semibiographical overlay in three parts.
CAPTIVE
Repeated in a soft circumference
All fire flies arch
In an unexpected gathering
Over a Viking funeral ... much to fear
The carpentry of the fool in accents
Passing well ... far too well indeed
In a world of lyric song and lines
Out repeating themselves ... unconfined
Beyond the black partitions of night
The minds eye in prosaic aggression
Out lives the bent of common defeat
In A thankful tremor of pain ... reviled
End
DEEP WATER
Immersion of all perceptions end in limitations
What is behind ... a reflection of
More of the same ... more desert and moon dust
Coil tightly around my inner savage
This gives weight for the artist to endure with
The concept of scholars ... these creatures burst
From non-existing books on delicate instinct
Themselves are nothing without the reader
Deeper still ... the dark of the childhood cave
Beckons to fulfilment ... who is willing to enter
Inches away from pirate loot and rum
Adventures filled with concentrations of blood
A self study of a restless chilhood in retrospect
There is no gold here ... but deed birds and sand
A hypodermic half-life in deep water
Eventually without fanfare becomes
A terminal addiction ...
End
ONLY THE NAMES HAVE CHANGED
I have friends that rode into the distance
As I have friends that are insane ... playing
In the open folds of grass ... invisible
The madness machines take flight
Black magic as possessions take flight
I arrive and step off a jet plane into
A thousand windowless eyes ... customs
I travel through correcting my thoughts
As a narrow mouthed agent sniffs and sniffles
On my tightly wrapped package ... unopened
I imagine his assistant naked and pink
Bathed in the perfumed whisk of a woman
But he is alone and overworked ... move on sir
End
CAPTIVE
Repeated in a soft circumference
All fire flies arch
In an unexpected gathering
Over a Viking funeral ... much to fear
The carpentry of the fool in accents
Passing well ... far too well indeed
In a world of lyric song and lines
Out repeating themselves ... unconfined
Beyond the black partitions of night
The minds eye in prosaic aggression
Out lives the bent of common defeat
In A thankful tremor of pain ... reviled
End
DEEP WATER
Immersion of all perceptions end in limitations
What is behind ... a reflection of
More of the same ... more desert and moon dust
Coil tightly around my inner savage
This gives weight for the artist to endure with
The concept of scholars ... these creatures burst
From non-existing books on delicate instinct
Themselves are nothing without the reader
Deeper still ... the dark of the childhood cave
Beckons to fulfilment ... who is willing to enter
Inches away from pirate loot and rum
Adventures filled with concentrations of blood
A self study of a restless chilhood in retrospect
There is no gold here ... but deed birds and sand
A hypodermic half-life in deep water
Eventually without fanfare becomes
A terminal addiction ...
End
ONLY THE NAMES HAVE CHANGED
I have friends that rode into the distance
As I have friends that are insane ... playing
In the open folds of grass ... invisible
The madness machines take flight
Black magic as possessions take flight
I arrive and step off a jet plane into
A thousand windowless eyes ... customs
I travel through correcting my thoughts
As a narrow mouthed agent sniffs and sniffles
On my tightly wrapped package ... unopened
I imagine his assistant naked and pink
Bathed in the perfumed whisk of a woman
But he is alone and overworked ... move on sir
End
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
"THE POLITE SPEECH WITHOUT SOUND"
( The Polite Speech Without Sound - the redux definitive draft ) for Anthony DiMichele.
The Polite Speech Without Sound
Without William's spear ... that last scene
Uneventful ... strange in a mere oblivion
The polite speech without sound ... arranged
With mighty intentions in defined echoes
Projected between cadences of the now
The now that has been realised with
The essence of a woman farewelled
Her name between my lips and fingers
How I have loved revolutionaries
I draw them by name for a friend in tears
And for all holly men in stasis
I give all except my agony ... the rest
Is unbalanced fear
The joy found in the mountains
Of white horses
With shepherds and gurus
Reciting all the forgotten Saints
So the stars behind your own vision
Behind your moon beams
Unnecessary firewood drums and
The wealth of time as the amber
Blood memento ... but
As historical shifts in the mind's
Vision is unyieldingly close against
The duplicity of her soul as she
Builds a fence of green acacia seedlings
To dream of the sea ...
So a legendary punishment
Is all forgotten
As I play the sandman
To her open eyed sleep
In the photographed joy
Of mulatto winds ... sleepless
In a dream within the shift
Of a panthers discourse that cut
Lingering through the sugar cane
Only to returm
With an avalanche of words ... yours
End
The Polite Speech Without Sound
Without William's spear ... that last scene
Uneventful ... strange in a mere oblivion
The polite speech without sound ... arranged
With mighty intentions in defined echoes
Projected between cadences of the now
The now that has been realised with
The essence of a woman farewelled
Her name between my lips and fingers
How I have loved revolutionaries
I draw them by name for a friend in tears
And for all holly men in stasis
I give all except my agony ... the rest
Is unbalanced fear
The joy found in the mountains
Of white horses
With shepherds and gurus
Reciting all the forgotten Saints
So the stars behind your own vision
Behind your moon beams
Unnecessary firewood drums and
The wealth of time as the amber
Blood memento ... but
As historical shifts in the mind's
Vision is unyieldingly close against
The duplicity of her soul as she
Builds a fence of green acacia seedlings
To dream of the sea ...
So a legendary punishment
Is all forgotten
As I play the sandman
To her open eyed sleep
In the photographed joy
Of mulatto winds ... sleepless
In a dream within the shift
Of a panthers discourse that cut
Lingering through the sugar cane
Only to returm
With an avalanche of words ... yours
End
Monday, February 22, 2010
FIRST ... many thanks to my dear friends and hosts of: SAN JUAN POETS ... for the opportunity to be part of this Poetry / Art forum ... AND NOW an invective three part dream from the very end of the human psych ... to start - but at the beginning with ...
"THREE A.M. AND AN ACHING TOOTH AND OPIUM"
An opaled flavor ... opium
You are the mother of an oriental pearl ...
China Town. 3:00 A.M.
A sweet ... sweet aching tooth
Pain plus pain times pain ...
Loosing objectivity - loosing chariots
I want to extract the tooth - I want to sleep ...
An afterthought !
Let me tell YOU all ... my sweet audience
The Modus Operendi of a toothache ...
The like of RUSTY nails
Hammered into your SKULL
The like of LIGHTNING bolts
Frying your BRAIN
The like of a SLIVER of hard wood
Inserted into your EYE
The like of a MOLTEN pitchfork
Branding into your GUT
... and most horrifying of all !
The like of a SILVER bullet
That reaches high velocity
And at the MOMENT of TRUTH ... becomes
Conscious of its own NATURE
And like the SADIST ... drops in BETRAYAL
Of its own DESIGN
China Town. 3:15 A.M.
My pipe is full and ready
In perpetual thoughts
I dream of pliers and hammers ...
Like the hardest of all stone
I want to shape it out ... out
Of my mouth ... out of my head
The tooth has become independent
Independent of my thoughts
Independent of my existence
China Town. 3:25 A.M.
This candy pearl has taken flight ...
My entire body ... numb!
Except ... except the tooth
I stop a rebellion ... and the pain is gone
End.
A surrealist's interlude ... in William's play of "Othello" ... he describes sexual intercourse as the beast with two backs.
LEATHER COAT
Your imperfect fingernails never shadow
The shoreline of my back
In a circle of old rooms and wooden beds
I am your guest tonight
You say that we will sing of wild pleasure
In this smoke filled boundary
As I wonder If you have claimed my mind
I learn through your dreams of winter worlds
And avalanches in bleeding moments
Lost ... is this enough to build trust?
And something else ...
The sound of silver coins leaving my hands
You are all art with painted lips and eyes
Who but you ... how you pin me down
Against your hair ... and skin ... and mound
Now with our barter completed
In this secret merchant's room
I leave as I enter my dream
Cold ... your palms on the shoreline
Waves and nightmares of women
Who devour flesh and beside them
I bloodlessly rediscover the waves
The moonlight and the sand under my feet
Over and over and over I see the gold
And the cold distance
I see a naked old woman crying
I see a statue
Grown from the sound of running water
A little wish and a moan ... then I awake
I wonder where I am in your bones and flesh
From this short sleep
And a ghost written love song
I listen for my name in the shifts of your breath
As you smoke an old English cigarette
A simple prayer of simple means
Of hidden words ... of unsaid truths
I fail in remembering a verse
As your fingers point at my name
With an odour of winged enemies
I now hide in your breath
Your shoulders ... your uncovered body
Your art of night all gone and wasted
In your eyes ... the assassins of savage tribes
In your voice ... a furnace burning fragile souls
The ruins of your brief trade cheated
My leather coat on your tarnished mattress
For only a night as you leave my sight
End
And now ... a simple transmutation ... a fusion of organic thought with celluloid ...
FLICKER
Three Masonic Medicos
With chisel shaped incisors
Crushing stone ... shaping life
Into immaculate marble
Three Subterranean Archers
With golden bows
Gently spear themselves
In the neutral darkness
Three Burly Old Pirates
With rusty red cutlasses
Cut and slash ... dirty old canvases
Thirty-five millimeters at a time
Stop frame ...
Beautiful ... overlapping images
At twenty-four frames per second
Flicker behind your eyelids
A sigh ...
Three Generic Copies
Invited to the feast of celluloid
With chisel shaped incisors
Gently spear themselves
Thirty-five millimeters at a time
End
"THREE A.M. AND AN ACHING TOOTH AND OPIUM"
An opaled flavor ... opium
You are the mother of an oriental pearl ...
China Town. 3:00 A.M.
A sweet ... sweet aching tooth
Pain plus pain times pain ...
Loosing objectivity - loosing chariots
I want to extract the tooth - I want to sleep ...
An afterthought !
Let me tell YOU all ... my sweet audience
The Modus Operendi of a toothache ...
The like of RUSTY nails
Hammered into your SKULL
The like of LIGHTNING bolts
Frying your BRAIN
The like of a SLIVER of hard wood
Inserted into your EYE
The like of a MOLTEN pitchfork
Branding into your GUT
... and most horrifying of all !
The like of a SILVER bullet
That reaches high velocity
And at the MOMENT of TRUTH ... becomes
Conscious of its own NATURE
And like the SADIST ... drops in BETRAYAL
Of its own DESIGN
China Town. 3:15 A.M.
My pipe is full and ready
In perpetual thoughts
I dream of pliers and hammers ...
Like the hardest of all stone
I want to shape it out ... out
Of my mouth ... out of my head
The tooth has become independent
Independent of my thoughts
Independent of my existence
China Town. 3:25 A.M.
This candy pearl has taken flight ...
My entire body ... numb!
Except ... except the tooth
I stop a rebellion ... and the pain is gone
End.
A surrealist's interlude ... in William's play of "Othello" ... he describes sexual intercourse as the beast with two backs.
LEATHER COAT
Your imperfect fingernails never shadow
The shoreline of my back
In a circle of old rooms and wooden beds
I am your guest tonight
You say that we will sing of wild pleasure
In this smoke filled boundary
As I wonder If you have claimed my mind
I learn through your dreams of winter worlds
And avalanches in bleeding moments
Lost ... is this enough to build trust?
And something else ...
The sound of silver coins leaving my hands
You are all art with painted lips and eyes
Who but you ... how you pin me down
Against your hair ... and skin ... and mound
Now with our barter completed
In this secret merchant's room
I leave as I enter my dream
Cold ... your palms on the shoreline
Waves and nightmares of women
Who devour flesh and beside them
I bloodlessly rediscover the waves
The moonlight and the sand under my feet
Over and over and over I see the gold
And the cold distance
I see a naked old woman crying
I see a statue
Grown from the sound of running water
A little wish and a moan ... then I awake
I wonder where I am in your bones and flesh
From this short sleep
And a ghost written love song
I listen for my name in the shifts of your breath
As you smoke an old English cigarette
A simple prayer of simple means
Of hidden words ... of unsaid truths
I fail in remembering a verse
As your fingers point at my name
With an odour of winged enemies
I now hide in your breath
Your shoulders ... your uncovered body
Your art of night all gone and wasted
In your eyes ... the assassins of savage tribes
In your voice ... a furnace burning fragile souls
The ruins of your brief trade cheated
My leather coat on your tarnished mattress
For only a night as you leave my sight
End
And now ... a simple transmutation ... a fusion of organic thought with celluloid ...
FLICKER
Three Masonic Medicos
With chisel shaped incisors
Crushing stone ... shaping life
Into immaculate marble
Three Subterranean Archers
With golden bows
Gently spear themselves
In the neutral darkness
Three Burly Old Pirates
With rusty red cutlasses
Cut and slash ... dirty old canvases
Thirty-five millimeters at a time
Stop frame ...
Beautiful ... overlapping images
At twenty-four frames per second
Flicker behind your eyelids
A sigh ...
Three Generic Copies
Invited to the feast of celluloid
With chisel shaped incisors
Gently spear themselves
Thirty-five millimeters at a time
End
Saturday, February 13, 2010
If I ever fall…..
Will you catch me; embrace the flaws that surround me….
If I ever give a flat smile, will you comfort me in calm understanding…?
When life step upon us, will you laugh and take my hand….?
If I ever fall, will you reach for me, as I have you….never looking back at what could have been…?
If I ever give a flat smile, will you comfort me in calm understanding…?
When life step upon us, will you laugh and take my hand….?
If I ever fall, will you reach for me, as I have you….never looking back at what could have been…?
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
The Veil
to run at the sea screaming Yes!
to see Love made liquid
in the flight of crows
how does one embrace the world
with such clumsy arms as these?
this morning I tasted truth
with the tip of my tongue
now everywhere I look
God is flowing like an ocean,
rippling through the tall grass,
hovering on the wings of the gull
I want to remove the barriers
between You and me
I want to feel Your breeze
on my cheek, your radiance
on my skin, your breath
inside my lungs
how light the veil seems
today
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Broken Promises...
And With….
My heart I loved you, wanted you, felt you all around me
Wished for nothing more than to have you all to me
I cried many nights hoping you would come home
Awoke everyday alone
With this heart I accepted you, believed in you, would die for you
All of you…
Your eyes, your soul, your passion was in such control of me
Reaching out for you I tremble, begging you to keep me safe in your embrace
But you leave me, always running away, sending me from you
I hold my head up wanting nothing more than to scream “I love you”.
With this heart I offered you
All that I have and all that I am
Needing only to walk in the presence of your smile
Your life, your love has left me again
My heart I loved you, wanted you, felt you all around me
Wished for nothing more than to have you all to me
I cried many nights hoping you would come home
Awoke everyday alone
With this heart I accepted you, believed in you, would die for you
All of you…
Your eyes, your soul, your passion was in such control of me
Reaching out for you I tremble, begging you to keep me safe in your embrace
But you leave me, always running away, sending me from you
I hold my head up wanting nothing more than to scream “I love you”.
With this heart I offered you
All that I have and all that I am
Needing only to walk in the presence of your smile
Your life, your love has left me again
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Coffee Shop...
I sit here pissed off waiting for you…
Why the hell do I allow this to happen again…?
Is it my hair, the clothes that I wear, the size of my waist?
The way that I taste….
My cup is running dry….so I sit here wishing a fine guy would
Offer to fill it for me…..I smile to myself…”there you go again”…”Stop dreaming girl!”
Sitting in this coffee shop wondering just how I got myself into this mess again…
It’s 1:00pm…but I have nowhere to go…glaring at my cell phone…
Angry at the messenger….not caring who I hurt…I just want to throw a fit…be pissed!
If I got up now….left…walked out…would he even know I was even here?
Walk in after I am gone….smell my perfume…feel the warmth of the chair …
Or will I be once again cast aside like the empty coffee cup now sitting here next to me…
So, I sit here pissed off again…tapping out my feelings…wondering how long I will wait…
Fighting the urge to say “fuck it”…wondering why I even came….wishing my life would change…
I sit here pissed off in this coffee shop wishing I was invisible….
Wanting to sink into the background…kicking myself for caring…looking at the clothes I am wearing…
Understanding why he never came…
Why the hell do I allow this to happen again…?
Is it my hair, the clothes that I wear, the size of my waist?
The way that I taste….
My cup is running dry….so I sit here wishing a fine guy would
Offer to fill it for me…..I smile to myself…”there you go again”…”Stop dreaming girl!”
Sitting in this coffee shop wondering just how I got myself into this mess again…
It’s 1:00pm…but I have nowhere to go…glaring at my cell phone…
Angry at the messenger….not caring who I hurt…I just want to throw a fit…be pissed!
If I got up now….left…walked out…would he even know I was even here?
Walk in after I am gone….smell my perfume…feel the warmth of the chair …
Or will I be once again cast aside like the empty coffee cup now sitting here next to me…
So, I sit here pissed off again…tapping out my feelings…wondering how long I will wait…
Fighting the urge to say “fuck it”…wondering why I even came….wishing my life would change…
I sit here pissed off in this coffee shop wishing I was invisible….
Wanting to sink into the background…kicking myself for caring…looking at the clothes I am wearing…
Understanding why he never came…
Thursday, February 4, 2010
the infinite ice
with abstract mannerisms
an impending ghost
waits in my shoes
standing idly at the devil's gate
hinting
it must be up to some mischief
the soul's voyage is sailing
in the opposite direction again
unseen my shadow kissed a veiled woman
(a loner sleep walking through a stranger's dream)
her face is a flowering thunderhead
her heart a beating steel drum of delirium
the firebird's ashes appear as a branch
of wormwood
it has ten thousand insects emerging from its darkness
it has the smell of an ocean above a cliff
it has five fingers of lightning on each tongue
each the size of a sparrow with the voice of a loon
the human logos gulled her wooden heart
the heart in the hands and feet of a tree
I talk to the beautiful machines
shoulder to shoulder
but bells are ringing in the text of my moods
under the influence
of the infinite ice
and I remain as I was
deaf and dumb
an impending ghost
waits in my shoes
standing idly at the devil's gate
hinting
it must be up to some mischief
the soul's voyage is sailing
in the opposite direction again
unseen my shadow kissed a veiled woman
(a loner sleep walking through a stranger's dream)
her face is a flowering thunderhead
her heart a beating steel drum of delirium
the firebird's ashes appear as a branch
of wormwood
it has ten thousand insects emerging from its darkness
it has the smell of an ocean above a cliff
it has five fingers of lightning on each tongue
each the size of a sparrow with the voice of a loon
the human logos gulled her wooden heart
the heart in the hands and feet of a tree
I talk to the beautiful machines
shoulder to shoulder
but bells are ringing in the text of my moods
under the influence
of the infinite ice
and I remain as I was
deaf and dumb
Saturday, January 23, 2010
the dark garden
I was pissing in the dark garden
remembering
with my throat still raw from screaming
blood scoured my veins
I started to itch all over
each time I opened my mouth
a long veil wriggled in a little farther
I kept my foot on the brake all the way
as yolk oozed from my shoe
surface stretched
dark stains soiled my laughter
everywhere everything sounded the way
it looked
in accordance with legend
I hurled my eye with a David Sling
earth moved and I lengthened my stride
thinking: its just words...
can't mistake them for anything
real:
constitution pollution white trash mutation
with a mouth like an alarm clock crying daily
for sacked pillars and plastic fruit
or just kneeling under some porker's purse
bleeding
with dream silk slipping through my feeble thimbles
I kept mocking christmas trees in parking lots
beneath an unmastered metalic fly~eyed curse
I buried my backtalk in a time capsule but lost the map
and the schedule
I sowed my oats against the grain
under pressure from controlling interests
its all theater now
there’s nobody behind the curtain
this much is clear
my voice will never sound more human
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