Poetry

 

the orange bird
1969

Once upon a time - I met a bird
We walked, he told me of his life; it was good.
We talked, he told me of his wife; she was good.
But I didn't like him; he was orange.

daily line
1981

Next Stop - Barbur Boulevard
a breath - i can't breathe
Next Stop - Hillsdale
i must escape - there must be a way out of here
Next Stop - Dosch Road
all i need is a burning rub, a living eye, another fist
Next Stop - Colony Park Apartments
i...
Last Stop - Your Stop
see you tomorrow

tearing into slumber
1981, 2004

i cry - yet, no one hears - alone
dare then - with real listen
the silence - no laughter
but also no sound of tears

weeping wrinkles
1982

So this is how the front of the line feels
Like the other end of the same piece of string.
Frayed and torn asunder
Bloody from its confrontation
with necessity's razor.

clustered flies
1982

behind the smoke
beneath the talk
the Market ebbs and flows
eggs - clusters, piles
nestling, waiting
harvest time - ambrosia
the fingerprints - the fingerprints are growing
filling up with food
come my little friends
prepare your burrow deep
crawl in gestures when you feel
then spread your wings and fly
behind the smoke
beneath the talk
and with your eggs do graph

water meter
1982

rubber lake conveyor belt
from wait'n'dock to freight'n'walk
a rush of polyester umbrellas cling alertly
to finely marbled citizens
wrapped in laminated jogging suits.
come - slide along the mink oil runway
fill watermark shopping shoes with scotchguard mildew patterns
to the passion pampers - in capsule, syrup, or mint
the beltless tear minipadsmade by a woman meterologist
a year supply of fold up old ladies
if you squeeze your tissues dry
progress in this town is indoor-outdoor.

banality sounds in mysterious weighs
1982

dull droning sound - hyphenated with the marching of feet
depreciating - concrete facts whip thrie crotches
to the tunes of some drooling christian

legs spanking against each other but not too much
lest a notion to play with ease
should spread and sweeps the orders off their feet

beware the frantic bicycle - out of breath
leaking its memory between meat racks
its well-creased rider's passing the test

alas - a crush of vowels, the rush of jowels - rancid
benevolent little altarboys-and-girls blend cheers for this-and-that
moving mountains of shit from Point A to Point B

around and round - left and right - and where it stops
you'll know if down wind

everywhere the slur of the frozen smile
as it searches for a new face
alien attachment - no deposit, no return
a new, acheless, tireless one perhaps
whose eyelids have failed to make a late appointment

ah, but that twittering of anxious splendor
they run off into the sunset avoiding the questionmark gaze
the fear of rejection - the fear of sunglasses
rather to fondle the blood-caked patties of Big Mac
dismembered, available, safe
like hands flopping out of sight - these intruding embarrassments

dull cloning sound
hyphenating gears gnash and tear
am i forgetting someone as some-thing
afterall - everything being so nice here
how could i possibly ask for more
and - remain nice about it?!

wind screams
12 april 2002

tacit travel down this vision
dusty road with rust emissions
hello now - do you have time
oh, I meant - do you have mine

signing in and fluctuating
verified and since deflating
tangent travel I've been sold
serafinite lost my hold

wake me up to go to sleep
lube the truck for driving deep
fake me with your bouquet leathers
got no wings but lots of feathers

a benign linking
12 april 2002

touch the flossip - and the nips
right and raucy, carefree, saucy
prime number love affairs
or was it her swollen nipples

poem for tuesday (weld disrobing)
31 august 2002

sallow and reaping - tariff
eyesight in ledger's red
fright of dread and such
lightly tasting those fingers
torrid, bending, nail-free
fat-free, payments pending
spending the night in frail
licking wounds of wrinkles and
satire saturdays - no point
yet no point - nor punch
just judy wheezing on a lattice

the lull of lips
11 october 2002

Once again, we enter the hollow,
the echo-less void.
Near silent on the listern front.
No-one appears home
as if it was an unknown holiday for ears.
Please wake me when it's over....

priest or passion
15 october 2002

A priest sought not to endure the desires of the flesh.
He beat himself so - but alas found that gratification
could not be dispelled so easily, and sank in rapturous
denial of the pleasure that found him at home - from
head to toe.

The only cure for the sexual desire condemned to the
crotch or dreams - is not needed. It is life itself, and only
death will cure you of the dangers of the tendril flesh

the spectacular joy of human capital not shooting each other
15 october 2002

No guns? Great - back to work. Crack.
Meet the club.

No clubs? Great - back to work. Snap.
Meet the whip.

No whips? Great - back to work. Stretch.
Meet the rack.

No racks? Great - back to work. Choke.
Meet starvation.

And so it goes. In either direction from now.
Some carrot and prod will continue to exist,
whose differences change very little but their
protestor's hollow - if not paltry goals... work
dressed in peace's clothing!

clocking out
14 december 2002

Ah, for want of wantonness
For lack of lacking
Dreaming of a world
'Er dream is the soil
from which springs joy
and the death of time-clocks

licking the lips of war,
or - what do swollen
peace lips suggest?
19 january 2003

torment of the torrid
fomenting that, this
paste and anvil Tuesday
sure, why not
not so much differing from flooding her tinsel,

thwart and answer,
purveying/availing shirt. too much dryer time
a batter chance tomorrow
Any one on 1 "hour" day
van hit, SUVenir bloodcake
trade-in ZPG and dancing at 55 mpg.
as if...

my lips runneth over
15 january 2004

finger petting wiggle
soothing moan - invitation
licking smooth heaven
on girth - flowing, glowing
headrest squirming about
our plunging clock

one four two
15 january 2004

transforming times two
holes - warm embrace
tongue taste unconscious
memories embracing - now or ever
purpled sheets whet entangle fro
opening shadow doors
weaving hearts open
plunging deeper still

repeating trifles
16 january 2004

thematic - pneumatic
new shoes for baby
blue soupy mix
unknown floatation - thumps
fluctuation - so terrific a terror
made for two
saturating my fingers
those digits frolicking
and that linger - mmm
that drip of cream

deeper than skin
17 january 2004

taken by storm in mind
i re-open your "etchings"
worn out were they not digital.
the drift of your perfumed card - perfect
lush lip lingers twirl
dancing across the page
hips follow and lead
swaying to or fro
and me missing
the you i know and
i so long to meet

emergent flower
18 january 2004

midnight dawn talks here with me
eyes of dark - thighs of truth
fields of frolic with moon so pure
mother and daughter - my ember aglow
walk with me - come as you desire
naked's storm, gentle's afterglow

thoughts on the death of a numb man walking
18 january 2004

they hold their breath underwater
minutes with seconds
the clock hands churn
on the other hand, i have held mine
above years in daze
click the stopwatch today
friendly forgotten goal
so not to be broken
and stronger yet - seeking
your touch ever longer

dreaming of soon
19 january 2004

your thighs aloft
rubbing ears with soft
shudders speak and tease
shutters hiding - those mysteries
my stories close - gently
around your wet gift

relaxation storms
21 january 2004

frolic, nurture - lust-aid
breath - catching smile
sighs, unanimous applause
ever enduring, unconditional
floods with pause, patience
licking blooms, clockhand feel
softly healing - frolic anew

deeper than skin
22 january 2004

taken by storm in mind
i re-open your "etchings"
worn out were they not digital.
the drift of your perfumed card - perfect
lush lip lingers twirl
dancing across the page
hips follow and lead
swaying to or fro
and me missing
the you i know and
i so long to meet

reelings
31 january 2004

Hearing bodies covered wirh each other.
Tasting relationships with butterfly tongues
Touching wings of love that soar and float
Feeling about you.

losing kathy
02 february 2004

Strong love - the greatest of which I am possible
Has sealed my fate
I shall lose her bit by bit - the greatest of sorrows
The slow death that enjoys watching her withdrawal
Noticing like an artist
Who begins with a finished work
And watches all efforts decay and destroy
the sweetest, purest of feelings and dream
This will be my most complete attempt at life yet
And my last, I fear
I have lost her sexually, too serving to cum
To tight to forget the past
Then respectfully - ideas and the brain
once friends in a death struggle, desert me
Higher ground elsewhere - jumping ship
Then physically, my embarrassing body
so many years and ways of singling me out - from myself
And I - not being able to afford
her the slightest, her friend to come can
offer her a night on the town
While I - nary a ice cream cone
(perhaps a final parting gift of my absense is all I have to give)
I am only a matter of time, pity, and tears
waiting to dried, a memory lost, hope dashed, love erased
Forgive my trespassing - in the end it is all I had
Sweet sleep - forever - I am ready for you
and an end to this pain of losing the woman I love so effectively
so quickly so thoroughly
I only wanted Kathy's happiness and mine therein
Too much to ask apparently
tasting and touching Kathy was beautiful
her touch and marvel adorned me for the few
losing Kathy is losing life
now, the choice and method are all that remain
with final bets placed on a week's swollen eyes

driving into concrete abstracts
04 february 2004

stunning in sunrise
shadows pristine, mystery
flowthrough with orange
highlighting sunset, and
returning with wings spread
stungun lips, eye-popping platinum
handing sunsets smiling,
sighing into slumber

wholes in the road
06 february 2004

The end of the roll of tape
The end of hope's lying sooth
The end of the road too much traveled
Ironic death - all that lasts - that, and death
Perhaps as a prime number? 
Perhaps on a birthday?
Perhaps only a plodding sound that agonizes daily
Footprints without echo
Waiting for absence of shadow
To swallow, crunch, and gurgle
Me - with no human conditioner left
Down the drain whole - me
Waiting with fear of death as for life
Ticket in hand - at best, inflation-proof

enjoining the view from here(sy)
10 february 2004

Remaindered bits
of string and time,
theory buckled
bonded, bondaged
band-AIDS for humanity
torso in effectual pose
a missing tonsilator depressor
taking a bathroom Wednesday
all without admission
all without second glance
maybe it was Tuesday
maybe it was Tuesday last

echos without first sound
10 february 2004

Distance is its own mystery.
Live is never so grand as the
subtle lie of the imagined
With truth a horse pill too often
and fantasy does not like to gag

Ah, the sober side of "the day after" not being sober

My own realizations are now a mystery,
fraught that I have not passed the test
else, it would not be so hard to say yes
No?

It is now a matter of distancing painful silences

hoping for a make-up test
hoping for hope

That could sound like being depressed
yet daring to be it's opposite.

Depression is not knowing
It is the waiting room at 5'o'clock
It is the loss of surprise as faked surprise

It is the message in a bottle to yourself
that one wishes never washes up to your feet
It is answering what others will not - and being correct
Alas, wondering
and wandering
lover of  the tidal chart
Lover of the wait

and wishing for a make-up test.

honey do melatonin
24 february 2004

Well-stated by a butterfly girl
Nail in the head from that tossed in kitchen sink
Ups and downs - coller-roaster
I just want some toast - maybe some black beings soup
Hold the cheese please - between the legs of the chair
Relationships confused as it ran away with the spoon
Swooning into our lives with smile and tear
Fear of loss - laugh of loss
Libidic sucking - mmm good, my butterfly woman

time for strange
26 february 2004

tactile dressing on wounds
unwound, lost inside-out, or else
and the waves edge closer
boldly crashing, always thrashing
rubbing the question, burning
snubbing direction, n'er turning
waiting for some, one, or other
that shadows in the dark
ready for dance or tied to the mast
strange undressing me with smile

cycling life foam
27 february 2004

reparations afloat - sent to sea
storms afoot - desperate awash
disparage knot - for I am mastbound
fast found aft the wash ashore
reparations resumed - the foam calls

roving moistures
01 march 2004

anti-matter heart - tweedlethump - tweedlelump in my throat
once the feel, now the reel - flapping tattered, resididinous
the list - prods and beckons - licensed, as carrot whips and chains
sure, excited momentarily, summarily facadesque - glittery merely
sliding diversions, riding the kisses of memory
hoping that santa remembers that i want to eat your pussy or its echo

becoming anew
10 march 2004

green leaf wedding of two radishes
no tomatoes and lots of undressing
tasty then, lacy when, tastier tomorrow
forks full of change, smiles and pepper
healthy, happy licking - bowls of one another
organic, botanic, fantastic love
growing and seeking the best
of desire and the want of the best love
self-love, eternal - hopeful gift

and when you sing
11 march 2004

melt away my blues
droplets of pain subside into themselves
light becomes alive
voice that glides, slides
me into a smile
relax and listen as Kathy glistens
singing oh so fair

doorway
14 march 2004

giving thanks today
story told, unfolding
a blossum girl, a pearl
wisdom shared, paired
Sunday, a way to joy
she's opened her door,
opening my heart.

metalove bites
15 march 2004

that's how our love can be - growing, glowing
while we yearn, and while we burn
refreshing, rebirthing, rejuvenation
nothing repeated, every touch new, tingling
singling out new sensations, new intensions
writhing, biting, sweating, unrelenting love

awakenings
16 march 2004

sunrise warming, doubts climbing o'er shadows
waning, fear waxing envelopes
grasps falter and mirrors crack - I hate myself
of sudden a warm hand creeps up my tears
i am beautiful, alive, loved - embracing words
rapture me in courage and warmth
i choose to be happy - aware of my strengths
for I am not alone  and we can achieve all

revolution varies
16 march 2004

revolutionaries are self-creating.
revolutionaries are too greedy for greed.
revolutionaries are too giving for altruism.
revolutionaries are too democratic for representative democracy.
revolutionaries are multi-colored.
revolutionaries come in all flavors, plus one.
revolutionaries are too intersexual for gender.
revolutionaries choke often but still try to breathe deeply.
revolutionaries can spit into the mystical wind and hit ideology every time.
revolutionaries dance well in the streets or under the sheets.
revolutionaries find the work of revolution repugnant.
revolutionaries find generalized repugnance revolutionary.
revolutionaries play hockey with words and fight often.
revolutionaries desire a 0-day work week.
revolutionaries are passionate about thinking.
revolutionaries think often about passion.
revolutionaries want to be in love everywhere.
revolutionaries are constantly changing.

love's sunrise
18 march 2004

morning arrives exfoliating the past
exposing below the surface, tasting anew
new chance, new history, new beginning
we re-arrive at memory's door
reaching out our hands, reassured with touch
i welcome you, and you me
change seems easier now
goals remise, living sole moments
to expand beyond all borders
bringing another dawn

horizons
20 march 2004

blue sky morning
awakening with sounds of
possibilities and newness,
and those that care.
the world smells bright
and tastes like clouds.

swollen rosebeds
20 march 2004

taste of savor - touchings that gentle
all smooth glistening, sensing most moist
back and forth - up and down, again
the sways of hips, of sheets, loosening
losing fingerprints - rows, toes
suppling, suckling - tender loins
lips then hips - moans, tones changing
today for tomorrow - the versatile vice
becoming becomes, being begins
a merge and unity becomes unique,
a clique without clock - motionless, timeless
each with hole, the whole from each
plunging needs into neuron bliss,
unending kiss dancing on rungs
tongues twisting and tasting their love

minor infractions
20 march 2004

new laws of movement
rules and regulations on desire
posing path to the shortsighted
food fights become revolutionary
marching single-filed in a circle
acts to grind - grinding to the dull.
culling will.
built-in recuperation.
beautiful.  simple.
sadly effective....
the President is not me.
the resident of blame is he.
i am lost so not me. Not me.
the President is but a moment of the State.
the State is but a shadow of the repressed.
the repressed are but an echo of themselves.
distant.  out of tune.
running out of time.
running out of breath.
 

the sandman cometh
21 march 2004

kicking up the sand and feeling the foamy surf lap up between your toes....
I'd love to have you on an Oregon beach.
We'd have a roaring fire waiting
back in the the cabin (hopefully not as the cabin).
We would walk and talk each night on the beach
wrapped in a large striped woolen blanket.  

After watching the stars and solving new riddles
we would retire to our rug in front of the flames.
We would explore the newness of each other's selves,
and the sensory pathways to each other's hearts and desires.

A touch here, a lick there - cuddling, embracing,
making the moon jealous and giving the sun a "sleep-in" reprieve.

take heart
22 march 2004

awake. arise. inner ear calling sound.
readied for the foray with smiles and zeal.
aim high. taste all. there's better to come.
we are both on the horizon - vertical still.
our time now on our side.... and so are we.

two-way street
23 march 2004

gloves are a two-way treat
they're the fits, shared
the hands braised are too
equally touching each other
shaking has no lead
no need for fingers pointing
both have flaws, claws
that scratch and tape
fingernails with cracks
prints on the racks
learning to listen with ears
silohuetting without fears

winks
27 march 2004

Such a day to become
A day so possible of joy and happiness
Arms opened to yesterday, tomorrow
Legs spread for today

rising to occasions
29 march 2004

Awaken eyes of my brilliant lover,
my passionate throb, my political pelvis
It is a day for you, moments to nourish
Self-flowers to pluck, futures to grasp
I too am here for your pleasures , your tongue
And I have plans of my own

i seem to not be a verb either
30 march 2004

i seem to have become
less than I am or
was that more than I can
faded.  jaded.
spectacular puppet
amusement. bemusement.
shorned. adorned. porned.
unwittingly imagined. wittingly imaged.
lost in the lack of shuffle....

from sad to smile
30 march 2004

To wake with eyes to you
Such warmth, such elegant slumber
To stroke your hair with slight caress
Such gentle love without demand
Morning child of universal hope
Dreamings of happiness, in yourself at last
I kiss you with tongues of tomorrow

weekends
01 april 2004

saturday - even with work - still seems a draw.  Strange.
Aad yet, not so as most everyone else in the maze slows down.
the humdrum and scratching at the bar sounds lessen.
the scurry of feet on pavement dulls to a scraping
the sliding of flesh across the grate  sounds of blood drying
rather, shopping is afoot.  
a foot walks and walks and clerks talk and talk.
the participation is endless. Relentless.  Strange.
hope for the moon day arrives too soon.
the cycle of down-the-drain begins anew.  
draining a foot,  feigning is at hand. all a head full.

closer the time
02 april 2004

eat my sweet - for you have many smiles to go
any are so the treat... I know them well
your taste - that touch, that moment touched
merging with sigh, riding through time
as if launched, as if bareback - edibly sharing
eat my sweet for i wish to eat you slowly, often

farewells and greetings
02 april 2004

I beckon thee to my bed.  
A last lick of you before the new morning.
I kiss you readily awaiting your return
with a ring for your toe
and a bracelet for your ankle
and a bed for your throne...

missing
04 april 2004

Holding your hand
Walking, talking
Gazing into eyes
Listless, boundless
Cherished wonder

almost you
05 april 2004

a restful day for you, slowly, surely
stretching, chewing, eschewing
furbishing your curtained home
temporary surroundings with smiles
for yourself, as yourself
a gift of the future, to us all
the trial is over, the verdict is in
you are fantastic and about to begin

meltdown and out
12 april 2004

feeling so far away, cut loose
lost to the clock and the map
sandbag in the heart - numb, low and alone
under weight, under clouds
dreamings seem unclear, in black-and-white
even the tears won't come
silence but for the ticking of the clock

sharpening the stick in my eye
17 april 2004

Sleep as an escape from a deeper sleep...
Dream as a touch of that lost in daily routine
Play as a moment forbidden in food that rhymes
Tomorrow for all these todays steeped in silent surrender

wet and wild
01 may 2004

our water running still
quietly, steadily
with cool refresh - sustaining
dammable, unstoppable
sweet water's burning will

second cumming
01 may 2004

awakened with inspiration.
hard, working yet loving
tough talk - exuding love,
determinative with sensitive push,
cautious desire.  needed.
feeling wanted and loved.  
different from being wanted and loved
maybe, merely, perhaps
the obvious becoming obvious
ready for more - perspiration,
aspiration whetting. smiling.

dead heads
11 may 2004

objects of class losing their heads
classic objectivity wearing leashes and matching panties
dragging as brakes for trucks
blessed by Allah sucking off GMC
oh oh oh - compassionate equality
comparison by frozen lips, rigid hips 
constipated, excess capital excises
liars all - exorcizing... reveling
beveling truth to fit
falsification protests loudly
depanting, departing
eyes roll over and down the slope
free from vision, upside-down
dead hands praise, raised
salutes of class, prized in common

hopping for hope
11 may 2004

hope has the largest waiting room in the world of Capital.
so full of mirrors that distort, re-presenting dead time
liars that refuse to see, protectors of the false
images of reality standing on its massive head
the whole is greater than the sum of its parts
wholistic dumbification, partialty en masse
without voice or brain, it stumbles along
tripping, stripping soles of souls - with feeling
in the name of invisible hierarchy - eyes shut
both sides lie - within each others embrace
truth is there too - as third force lost in the noise

class war atrocities
12 may 2004

daily, daily, daily
war without class, with bad ratings
poems and pillows then
else beware, wearing an atrocity
panties and nudity - such for puritans unnamed
poems of self-sacrifice to those who fear life
war of words, words for the ward
pillow-fighting, certain to win
islam, islame, islam, islave
retrograde horror - whores for allah
fat bastard profit - earing only jingle-jangles, stolen bangles
how dare i - liberal consciences - rite on, rite on
liberal, gliberal, liberal, fiberal, illiteral
class unconscious, loud, frozen, placated
playing a role - petty bougeois rites, sacred unknowing
rites, rights, rites, blights
moralizing, guiltizing, forgetting, never learning
now it's time to lose your head - bad talk, inappropriate truth
shh, shh, shhh.... pc is near. go back to sleep for the horde

requiem for lotion
20 may 2004

you - on my mind all the sunlight
and now, languid, on my long and hard
stroking at the clock of love, squeezing
out the last drop of life, as a growing
surging of renewal lushes, blushes
collapsing into imagined arms, harm-free
loved and loving - forensically striving
for a close-up, your target on my face

eye of thee
07 june 2004

eyes open, lips part
stretch, stretch
first thoughts as with last
katherine, my katherine
our day beckons, up my lass
and soon we  shall be us
laying in love, full embrace
touching love's promise
quivering its smile

love's lament
30 June 2004

Sad.
When the joy crumbles, when that moment of forever
comes to an end, when love laughs at its addicted and its abandoned
that is when the tags be known.
Survival, children, memories, friends, and truth
Divided up. Lost. Undone. Scarce.
Sadness from within apparent joy is revealed once again...
Itself, neither lost nor undone nor scarce.

vote for the bloat
20 August 2004

When the left has or has no money they still don't see Capital
They prod - patrons of the Capitalization of humanity
They squeeze - matrons of the past, present, future
Sway to the left for the social swirl
Bend to the right for the individual cherry on top
Ah, the choices of having oneself extracted - choicelessly varied
Voting is like discerning amongst a plethora of promises
Mounds of vanilla ice-cream: blood-clogging, pancreas-slamming Unhealthiness re-presented as chance at social freedom, individual liberty  
Each with its delicious pricetag, the value extracted
Nourished by tantalized tongue with each lick
The flavor of representative democracy is a deadly trap.

nun of the above
27 August 2004

Some somewhere agrees.
Maybe a nun. Maybe a nun. Maybe a nun. Maybe not.
Maybe none of the above is all there is to acceptance.
To accept rejection and to reject acceptance.
Perhaps someone somewhere agrees?

(re-)petitions
27 August 2004

i lay down my will to live, inspired by montonic tone
the drone of marching feet - trading, waiting, sedating
sailing death's lips - flailing rigid hips
not for pleasure and not for joyful gain
but for continuation of daily droll and pain
voting instead, petitioning the bored with prayer

i sliced pineapple on wrists of isl(h)am
18 January 2005

i slammed ham and spam, modest yet festive
treat in a dish, feet in a can - a proposal
regimented hooves for the hooveless
horde pounding on the empire gates
free for all - spam for is-lam - at a global potluck
they bring the sauce - fine sauce of cleric drained
a pam is not smiling, maybe several
the craning of those neck napped - so correct, so rite
i've looked down my nose at slavery and murder
shame on me, no potatoes or rice for me
smiling is such sweet sorrow for ideologues
better that they roast on an open fire
then - even more for everyone, better yet

pawns to the left, pawns to the right
31 january 2005

You are a good player and I am having great fun
even as my minions lay at my feet. Aha. My queen
reproduced more before the so-called surrender.
They lurk. They walk. They talk. They roam the offices.
They climb the stairs. They feed the fish. They are
my human fodder.  Beware. For yours too have gathered
and we best resign to a common understanding - they
wish implicitly nothing greater than our happiness and
our heads.  Therein lies the game!

pope layers
02 february 2005

he has lain out jesus, and
next he laid young boys
now - he just lies there

soap bubble
18 february 2005

popping as a star
gone with a drip
fragile and moist
seemingly empty
everything outside
inside when checked
reality potential
arriving with a pop

shadows that speak
22 february 2005

active boredom's bullets fly - sharing relentlessly
to the eyes and fingers of expectant translators - they weep
nothingness rigidly preserved - conversations one-way
its run-on recursion - incursive ricochets, fragments

bought and souled
09 may 2005

faces without skin on free people are still sweeter to the tongue
than those without a soul....

missing in traction
16 may 2005

Mass deaths, close-minded filters, pondering stuck in a loop, wandering, or global popcorn shortage?  

The conversation is lagging, isn't it?
Yes, very lagging....
Quite lagging, isn't it?
Yes, quite lagging....
Yes, very lagging....
Quite lagging, isn't it?
Yes, quite lagging....
Yes, very lagging....
Quite lagging, isn't it?
Yes, quite lagging....
Yes, very lagging....
Quite lagging, isn't it?
Yes, quite lagging....
Yes, very lagging....
Quite lagging, isn't it?
Yes, quite lagging....
Yes, very lagging....
Quite lagging, isn't it?
Yes, quite lagging....
Yes, very lagging....
Quite lagging, isn't it?
Yes, quite lagging....
Yes, very lagging....
Quite lagging, isn't it?
Yes, quite lagging....
Yes, very lagging....
Quite lagging, isn't it?
Yes, quite lagging....
Yes, very lagging....
Quite lagging, isn't it?
Yes, quite lagging....
The conversation is lagging....

Get me the butter....

meme-ories
23 may 2005

DNA's been jumping turnstiles of time
so the zookeeper beepers are checking id
yes, they're iding checkers too and profiteer-wreckers  

if you fail the test it's off with your vest 1-2-3
yes - you're off the big loop,
patents or photos is slavery's choice
in the mirage of eternity
all the hat check girls have left and the last call is memory.
that is next and so is chance in the cosmic lottery....

children as citizens of death
06 june 2005

cooking them destroys the natural enzymes that animals not stuck in their heads know. now, if we were to re-suggest A Modest Proposal to all those mindlessly spitting out young consumers so that they may in turn become lazy consumers - consumers of other's consumption - voyeurs through their children's voyeurism training - well, what might be the type of rope by which we are hanged for entertainment sake?
would it be "on" when children do wake?
have the hours of "being adult" been so whittled down by the internet and television's 24-hour access that nothing is left but whimpering death?
all for children.
be childlike to become adult to never live.
the path to nowhere exalted through toys called children, through eyes made as black holes for cathode ray tube menus.
"death to adult children - they took us too literally".
"adultify the children" is what we really meant.
born unto death with little gestation between.
no time for the endpoints, just the linearity between.

first and for most
08 june 2005

thirst in line is divine - foremost
decrementing your blossums
declining your sighs
birth breaths stored away for a reigny day
after fray after fray...
running out of borrowed dimes
time served
death on installment plan toasts
life eludes all but the whine of credit
collecting - first, then last
and most

noble blood rhymes
21 june 2005

Neruda falls like an anvil wrapped in eggshells. It's words fall like an ax on the neck of dream; it wreaks of the death it summoned in Chile.

promissary notes in 3/4 time
26 june 2005

It is over there - where I could have been....
The only shape being changed is the shape of now
all else is lost to promises of now
and to those whose role it is to promise.

style en absentia
12 july 2005

Dig that craaaaazy beat: tick, tock, tickity, tock, drippy, drop, trickle, puddle
My lifestyle runneth over....

the last stupor
12 july 2005

Mmmm... baked bean-counters with roles dipped in the gravy of the grave....

sorts, of sorts
16 july 2005

we all want life
and blinded, strike out for it
hitting each other in the process
rather to go beyond the eye and the I
to the me and the us
to share what we wanted along
each other

the self shall emerge
from the rubble of buttonpushers
and reactors and detractors
that "enemy" in the other
our own parasite undealt with
externalized and demonized,
tortured and crucified
unnecessary when the feast without
a beast is within hugging distance

kneejerking deities
23 july 2005

religion is a stake in the ground
guarded, grateful
it cradles, it holds humanity's desire for transcendance prisoner.

word vollies
24 july 2005

my eyes felt peeled and my ears still ring,
appreciating the share of fingernail life
with the tips' blisters burst.

nothingness whimpers
12 august 2005

is that the buzzzzzzing of flies, the rushing of sighs
the sound of compliance with nowhereness
new facemasks, same limping dance
oh, the taughtness of the occasional lynch rope
chorus of cheer from lynchpin-wanna-be and wanna-be wanna-be
scoffing up phlegmish criticisms - phlopish witicisms, the dank-and-vile
i bid this lifestyle of Sad-Mundanity its self, wonder in the paradox
exorcise your free swill wisely - it's all you've got to cherish
the cage is quite small and the phish talk is tall, faint and feigning
entertain but parrots and their reflections- the near-dead
and their excitable shadows

thanks for the day-after
25 november 2005

If we learn to look back to what could have been really  rather than ideally...
if we reach more for Dream rather than merely dream of more...
if we become who we desire rather than be based merely on what is and was...
if we look upon failure as misunderstood success,
and dogma as missed opportunity -
then we shall truly be more human - fuller of and for ourselves.

We shall be as gift of and for each other,
for we are the only exchange of value.
I am thankful for all of us that may share the way of life of Gift.

I am thankful for the chance to Grow and to become Gratified -
from that most precious of gifts you could bring to me : you.
For a happier you I give thanks - for my sake.

merry opportunity
25 december 2005

What is a holiday, a birthday?

The queries bespeak us with volumes so high we cannot hear ourselves:

• Is it a religiously-sanctified day of spirituality, a wrapping of ledger books, or someone's birthday party?
• Is it a history rewritten to benefit the equal exchange of objects amongst the bland?
• Is it a choice to select how Power  may speak for, of, or as us?
• Is it a time for renewal, cycling, or leaps?
• Is it a day of peace during the war of all against all for a piece of the shrinking action?
• Is it a big sale or a no-sale?
• Is it a day of candles - mourning or exalting?
• Does it come too often, too little, not at all, or in hollow form?
• Is it all these or none of these?

Yes and No.

It is a day like any other... that we want to be like no other.
It is a call for celebration over celibation.
It is a call for giving beyond sacrifice, duty, and exchange.
It is a call for adorning the world rather than its symbols.
It is a day of rebirth over slow death.
It is the call of the wild that has not been bred away, beaten, and subdued.
It is a day for some in the species to stand upright and face what we implicitly desire.
It is a day wherein we glimpse at what wonders we might become, and - where the clock is challenged as barrier to making them real.
It is a day wherein we declare war against zero-sum  social relations - for it to even exist.
It is a day that beckons all the rest.
It is a day without Monday appointments and deposit deadlines; it calls to us with the end of the weekday as we know it.
It is a day that seeks to become rather than to merely be.
It is a day wherein we try to reach farther than we normally allow ourselves.
It is us seeking more than the us of quantities - measured in partialities and limited to days amongst lifetimes.
It is nowhere, nobody, and nothing implying us as the ultimate birthday and gift - to everywhere, everyone, and everything.
"Birth" and "holy" days are at once an expression aimed at the mundane and a call to go beyond spectacularly-new levels of that same mundanity.
It is Santas freely dispersing commodities at stores as "gifts".
It is the inclusion of so many holydays that no one day may contain them.
It is the creating and entering the "promised land" today rather than waiting for its bus.
It is pouring the gravy of exuberance on all you would meet rather than the gravity of returning to the production and consumption of non-festive chores.
It's wrapping up a self-reflexive world for unholy strangers.
It is giving back a sold tomorrow as impossible and a re-presented past as passed-by.
It is a chance to be born again as we want to be - with everyone as loving family.
Its presence embraces the full dismantling of anything that would squander the wonder of playing with toes and stars.
It us all of us calling through some of us.

These days are opportunities to permanently, resolutely, and consequentially step outside of and beyond that which confines us to controlled bliss and marvel, and to the "us" that finds them with daze and colonized content. It is us calling to a fuller us. It is the universe speaking through us to cast off salutes to the dead and become the living.

pondering aloud
17 january 2006
Posit: I'll take door number i, Bob....
Query: Why?
Leap: Simple become-and-effect ; it opens my mind's eye to the future's past without it, and of course - that creates a delicious paradox, upon which many shall feast, with its social relations as dessert.

life akindled (thanks, tenago)
05 march 2007

afire!
self-lighting that shares, crackling the sky
i "sweat in" this gift-infuse of authenticity
on my tongue, elsewhere adventuring
rolling eyes concern the roled I's
a choice of blurred visions of all not in "today's specials"
inserted, pitching tent in my cortex
unwanted, uninvited, wanton of so little
gold teeth, cold bite at my neck
desserting on deserting
this secret gift deserves a pyre
a secret no longer. signaling
wind wind that shares across all borders
a fire in all directions

camp nomore
20 july 2008

And will the trains to the FEMA camps have "glass ceilings"?
Most likely, it will be the floors.
Perhaps in the camps?
A group hug and mutual shred after last look at the real 'stars' above, sadistically-allowed as metaphoric joke....
After the managers for the unified elite release the gas, then, the glass cleaner....
America's last great product, and shine.

(more) words with which to touch yourself

farewells

jim morrison's poetry