Waking—
in comfy wet
whale belly
sweat
in the morning—so unendurably
pretty
before all the
light starts to pour in—
and feeling—curly
knots gripping
tight around
knots about the whole thing; because I got
this rippling
untenable
feeling!—everything's
currently
going
my way!
Friday, May 29, 2015
Thursday, May 28, 2015
AUBADE
Kate—sometimes I dream
at night
we fight
so that—
by the light
of the morning we know to be coming—
we won't
ever have to be
but we—can at least
usually
look like each
other's one of a
kind—shining
hero.
at night
we fight
so that—
by the light
of the morning we know to be coming—
we won't
ever have to be
but we—can at least
usually
look like each
other's one of a
kind—shining
hero.
Wednesday, May 27, 2015
DIGRESSION
Somedays—one must just
breathe
and grip
and dig deep!—to excavate,
let alone appreciate—
the thawed
poetry leftover
after a boxy
and stalwart old
Frigidaire soldier
finally
becomes
so epic-
and
thorough-
ly
exhausted.
breathe
and grip
and dig deep!—to excavate,
let alone appreciate—
the thawed
poetry leftover
after a boxy
and stalwart old
Frigidaire soldier
finally
becomes
so epic-
and
thorough-
ly
exhausted.
Tuesday, May 26, 2015
POEM FOR SOLO FLUTE
Touched—but somehow only
gradually
by such
soft
and tender
strains of sadness lingering;
sticky sweet and
streaked
across a
dark and lovely
used-
up womb's walls—so empty,
and yet—
so full
at once!—graceful, thin
as your grandmother's ghost;
but
touchable—
and rich
as her taste
in heavy clothes
and dangling chocolaty
topaz stones—just to listen!
feels
so much
like falling
in love—though somewhat
alarming
because—you don't know
precisely
or really even
vaguely
with whom.
gradually
by such
soft
and tender
strains of sadness lingering;
sticky sweet and
streaked
across a
dark and lovely
used-
up womb's walls—so empty,
and yet—
so full
at once!—graceful, thin
as your grandmother's ghost;
but
touchable—
and rich
as her taste
in heavy clothes
and dangling chocolaty
topaz stones—just to listen!
feels
so much
like falling
in love—though somewhat
alarming
because—you don't know
precisely
or really even
vaguely
with whom.
Monday, May 25, 2015
OXYGEN
Skinny high limbs
of wind-
scrambled
backyard tulip poplars—
sighing
stop! for all heaven's
sake—trying
so hard
to just let—
the littlest things go!
Friday, May 22, 2015
DQ
In a blink—
his immediate
vision—
was to easily
be the best! and
the fastest!—
and to just
somehow
win—
all at once! not just
this proceeding—
but every
little
last
single—
race
he could ever—conceivably chase after;
and that's how—before the quiver
of his lust
was even finished—
he found
that he had already
lost this one
quite a few
seconds earlier—solely
by virtue
of being the best!—
at impatience.
his immediate
vision—
was to easily
be the best! and
the fastest!—
and to just
somehow
win—
all at once! not just
this proceeding—
but every
little
last
single—
race
he could ever—conceivably chase after;
and that's how—before the quiver
of his lust
was even finished—
he found
that he had already
lost this one
quite a few
seconds earlier—solely
by virtue
of being the best!—
at impatience.
Thursday, May 21, 2015
21ST CENTURY FOX
Feeling tender
stringy
and—at the same time completely
full and satisfied—
with the
dim rose bloom
of sadness—presently
overwhelming him
there under
the—unsatisfactory
LED lighting;
for chewing—with compassion
if not
circumspection—
pink spongy chunks
of some
or other—precious little
fawaway lamb's liver.
stringy
and—at the same time completely
full and satisfied—
with the
dim rose bloom
of sadness—presently
overwhelming him
there under
the—unsatisfactory
LED lighting;
for chewing—with compassion
if not
circumspection—
pink spongy chunks
of some
or other—precious little
fawaway lamb's liver.
Wednesday, May 20, 2015
PALADIN
Words—having
long since turned
to thoughts
some of
which have—much more recently
burned
into certain
definitive and repeatable
smoldering patterns
of action—our hero
has at last
achieved
the kind of victory
that no fervent child
in his right little
fiery impetuous mind—
could ever dare
conceive of;
for
so complete-
ly and entirely
unconditional! as to be
boring,
and so
colorless—
and drab
when sheer
doubt-
less-
ness—itself
becomes his uniform.
long since turned
to thoughts
some of
which have—much more recently
burned
into certain
definitive and repeatable
smoldering patterns
of action—our hero
has at last
achieved
the kind of victory
that no fervent child
in his right little
fiery impetuous mind—
could ever dare
conceive of;
for
so complete-
ly and entirely
unconditional! as to be
boring,
and so
colorless—
and drab
when sheer
doubt-
less-
ness—itself
becomes his uniform.
Tuesday, May 19, 2015
BASTION OF—
Stilled and immovable—but alive
alone in one
slivered corner
of a very particular
deep blue room,
near a shaded
cobalt dusty
table—flush with
sleek blue
flowers—motionless-
ly yearning
for the occasional glint of blue-
silver sun,
barely sluicing
through near opaque
and peculiar
stiff blue drapes;
he almost felt
he was
lukewarmly—there,
inside his own
illustrious mind
for the very first time;
except—he thought,
quickly
as
the sanctity of the shabby little
place
began dissolving,
that such a precious stone
ought
to be unassailable.
One cannot!
simply—tiptoe in
and begin
quietly sitting
around—inside
a diamond!
alone in one
slivered corner
of a very particular
deep blue room,
near a shaded
cobalt dusty
table—flush with
sleek blue
flowers—motionless-
ly yearning
for the occasional glint of blue-
silver sun,
barely sluicing
through near opaque
and peculiar
stiff blue drapes;
he almost felt
he was
lukewarmly—there,
inside his own
illustrious mind
for the very first time;
except—he thought,
quickly
as
the sanctity of the shabby little
place
began dissolving,
that such a precious stone
ought
to be unassailable.
One cannot!
simply—tiptoe in
and begin
quietly sitting
around—inside
a diamond!
Monday, May 18, 2015
CAST AWAY
Nearby the morning pink treelined water—
dappled by scratches
of waterbirds landing, lapping
breezes, and their attendant
soft panoplies
of deciduous tree seeds gently downswirling—
only a man
sits and stares
with his breath and
dares hard—to contemplate
what on earth!
his gift
to humankind could possibly be
when such bright and bold and beautiful color
and the sweet freshness of air
are—not even given
so much as
already there—
and not
lending themselves
to any such clever
repackaging either—no matter how
faithful,
or fervent,
or earnest—so much as
allowing—
as wind
invites water—
the intrinsic-
ly
obscure and necessarily anonymous
self-
re-
and
then,
slowly,
gradual
dis-
identification.
dappled by scratches
of waterbirds landing, lapping
breezes, and their attendant
soft panoplies
of deciduous tree seeds gently downswirling—
only a man
sits and stares
with his breath and
dares hard—to contemplate
what on earth!
his gift
to humankind could possibly be
when such bright and bold and beautiful color
and the sweet freshness of air
are—not even given
so much as
already there—
and not
lending themselves
to any such clever
repackaging either—no matter how
faithful,
or fervent,
or earnest—so much as
allowing—
as wind
invites water—
the intrinsic-
ly
obscure and necessarily anonymous
self-
re-
and
then,
slowly,
gradual
dis-
identification.
Friday, May 15, 2015
BALSAMIC VINEGAR
If its true—
that
everything.
you say and do
turns to pure poetry—
if you
choose
to simply
live—
and let
it
all go
looser;
then everyday—
my thoughts grow
dimmer,
darker,
cloudier—
and only
more
and
more obscured
by quaint and distant
ideas of dinner—
is a day
I also
get a little
bit closer
to sweeter.
that
everything.
you say and do
turns to pure poetry—
if you
choose
to simply
live—
and let
it
all go
looser;
then everyday—
my thoughts grow
dimmer,
darker,
cloudier—
and only
more
and
more obscured
by quaint and distant
ideas of dinner—
is a day
I also
get a little
bit closer
to sweeter.
Thursday, May 14, 2015
SHORT FICTION
Between the first
and the last—
and the only
period he'd
thus far managed
to petition to paper—
and the cursor
blinking on—and then
off again
half a second later,
came the realization—
that
as far as
any good narrative was concerned,
there wasn't
so much—a little gap
as there was
quite a bit
of overlap—
between
the he
who'd be re-
reading the thing
thirty years afterward—and his dad
at age four
or five—a careless blonde boy,
naive
and blind
to the poverty
of this very moment—
whose thick
artless cheeks
and scared
little smile
he'd never
even thought
to pause—and examine
until now.
and the last—
and the only
period he'd
thus far managed
to petition to paper—
and the cursor
blinking on—and then
off again
half a second later,
came the realization—
that
as far as
any good narrative was concerned,
there wasn't
so much—a little gap
as there was
quite a bit
of overlap—
between
the he
who'd be re-
reading the thing
thirty years afterward—and his dad
at age four
or five—a careless blonde boy,
naive
and blind
to the poverty
of this very moment—
whose thick
artless cheeks
and scared
little smile
he'd never
even thought
to pause—and examine
until now.
Wednesday, May 13, 2015
KNUCKLEBALL
Like sudden-
ly
and desperately—
grabbing
quick hold of
and split-
finger hurling
a handful
of its heretofore in-
divisible
and illimitable
packets of
clean and invisible light
straight back—
into the pocket
of whatever far-
off
and silent star—
nothing on earth!
could be farther
from what is legal—not to mention
less understandable.
Because—let's face it
to truly apprehend something,
anything
at all—
you have to be able
to pick it up.
ly
and desperately—
grabbing
quick hold of
and split-
finger hurling
a handful
of its heretofore in-
divisible
and illimitable
packets of
clean and invisible light
straight back—
into the pocket
of whatever far-
off
and silent star—
nothing on earth!
could be farther
from what is legal—not to mention
less understandable.
Because—let's face it
to truly apprehend something,
anything
at all—
you have to be able
to pick it up.
Tuesday, May 12, 2015
LEARNING TO RELAX
Turns out—you were
perfect-
ly
right!
to feel
a little
gloom—still seeping
through each
tiny crack
of your smiling
teeth again
back there;
it seems—
we can
never
really,
really
be—
actually
and one-
hundred-
percent
totally
free!—because
Science says
we will
probably
always need—that nebulous ebony
black thing—
called
space—
within which
to be it.
perfect-
ly
right!
to feel
a little
gloom—still seeping
through each
tiny crack
of your smiling
teeth again
back there;
it seems—
we can
never
really,
really
be—
actually
and one-
hundred-
percent
totally
free!—because
Science says
we will
probably
always need—that nebulous ebony
black thing—
called
space—
within which
to be it.
Monday, May 11, 2015
DWELLING
Ellie—behold
your indelible fingers!
A thousand—
or more
generations
are in there. Myself
included—and
the big helpful hands
of your parents,
of course—as well as the palms
of each
tender pair
of theirs. But it's
not merely! those
of your ancestors—for
inside each
little fingernail
there's a future.
A place
where obscure
weightless multitudes
are gathered—abiding even now
in the incredible
power
you hold
as creator—
of such a wordless
and beautiful
future—
for each
unimaginable son
and impossible daughter!
of your own
children's
possible
handfuls—of children.
your indelible fingers!
A thousand—
or more
generations
are in there. Myself
included—and
the big helpful hands
of your parents,
of course—as well as the palms
of each
tender pair
of theirs. But it's
not merely! those
of your ancestors—for
inside each
little fingernail
there's a future.
A place
where obscure
weightless multitudes
are gathered—abiding even now
in the incredible
power
you hold
as creator—
of such a wordless
and beautiful
future—
for each
unimaginable son
and impossible daughter!
of your own
children's
possible
handfuls—of children.
Friday, May 8, 2015
BENEDICTION
Heaven-
drops
merely
inter-
rupting
cleanly
dry and silent spaces—
come down!
and fill this
hollow starving vessel up.
Stillness reigning in-
between
each
fat pearl falling—stay here!
and be its
saving grace.
Together
make this space—just
one
in a million
little pools
of water—reflecting,
though not
exactly—what on earth
is real.
drops
merely
inter-
rupting
cleanly
dry and silent spaces—
come down!
and fill this
hollow starving vessel up.
Stillness reigning in-
between
each
fat pearl falling—stay here!
and be its
saving grace.
Together
make this space—just
one
in a million
little pools
of water—reflecting,
though not
exactly—what on earth
is real.
Thursday, May 7, 2015
LILAC SEASON
Curiously—it was always
there,
in his lonelier moments
and places—
for a split second
passing under-
neath the heady
bloom of shrubshade, say
or again
at low evening—
at the exact instant
when
on an inhale—the very first chilly
filament of
wind
came to chase away
the erstwhile day's collected
friendly and sympathetic heat;
that's when—
the feeling
would grip him
without warning
or reason—
that
everything—every
single
little thing
he was not currently doing
at the time—
signified an ending,
and every ending
was it's own small death.
But death—he would subsequently
realize
invariably
when exhaling
heavily
the groggy perfumed air—
was not
the opposite
of life,
but rather—just the inverse
of a messy
and difficult
birth.
there,
in his lonelier moments
and places—
for a split second
passing under-
neath the heady
bloom of shrubshade, say
or again
at low evening—
at the exact instant
when
on an inhale—the very first chilly
filament of
wind
came to chase away
the erstwhile day's collected
friendly and sympathetic heat;
that's when—
the feeling
would grip him
without warning
or reason—
that
everything—every
single
little thing
he was not currently doing
at the time—
signified an ending,
and every ending
was it's own small death.
But death—he would subsequently
realize
invariably
when exhaling
heavily
the groggy perfumed air—
was not
the opposite
of life,
but rather—just the inverse
of a messy
and difficult
birth.
Wednesday, May 6, 2015
I SWEAR—
Sometimes poetry
is just
some motherfuckers talking—
only
sounded-
out
and surrounded—
by silence a little more
reverently.
is just
some motherfuckers talking—
only
sounded-
out
and surrounded—
by silence a little more
reverently.
AGE OF JIVE
Not at all
funny—and completely
obvious why
it's still
rock and roll
to old
Billy Joel;
otherwise
he'd just have no context—
and no one
that lonely
would want to go
and start
looking—
totally invisible.
funny—and completely
obvious why
it's still
rock and roll
to old
Billy Joel;
otherwise
he'd just have no context—
and no one
that lonely
would want to go
and start
looking—
totally invisible.
SHORTNIN' BREAD
Okay Kate—so what if
Most of the
time—when we kiss
it feels just
like this—
thin tinny
form-
pinching
gluey rude
form-
less-
ness;
so compact
and predict-
able—that is
to say
more
than a little
repeatable—and then
pieced out! quite
comfortably,
bit
by bit,
and—I admit
it—almost
too precious-
ly
wonderful-
ly
and adorably—darling antique cookiecutter
for words
to express it?
Most of the
time—when we kiss
it feels just
like this—
thin tinny
form-
pinching
gluey rude
form-
less-
ness;
so compact
and predict-
able—that is
to say
more
than a little
repeatable—and then
pieced out! quite
comfortably,
bit
by bit,
and—I admit
it—almost
too precious-
ly
wonderful-
ly
and adorably—darling antique cookiecutter
for words
to express it?
Tuesday, May 5, 2015
MASTERING IN COMMUNICATIONS
Once—he thought
that joy
was simply
peace in motion—
because
he imagined—
his mind was
probably
liquid fizzy matter;
but later—
what if peace?
was love—
frozen
like cubes of greyish water?
But love—
especially suspended
as such
was boring—
since it just
didn't taste like much;
and besides—
true love
by which
he thinks
he means
the real thing—
it doesn't usually make us
want anything,
let alone
sell Coca-Cola.
that joy
was simply
peace in motion—
because
he imagined—
his mind was
probably
liquid fizzy matter;
but later—
what if peace?
was love—
frozen
like cubes of greyish water?
But love—
especially suspended
as such
was boring—
since it just
didn't taste like much;
and besides—
true love
by which
he thinks
he means
the real thing—
it doesn't usually make us
want anything,
let alone
sell Coca-Cola.
Monday, May 4, 2015
STRAIGHT UP
Paradoxically—
but not; and somehow standing
still and
silent
in both—their
pliant
surrender—
and their
stiff refusal
to instruct us further; I think
the flowers—proudly rainsoaked
out there
are our
greatest teachers.
but not; and somehow standing
still and
silent
in both—their
pliant
surrender—
and their
stiff refusal
to instruct us further; I think
the flowers—proudly rainsoaked
out there
are our
greatest teachers.
Friday, May 1, 2015
WEAK FORCE
So very
very
very
little!—seems like it could possibly
depend upon—
those
moist brainy gumwads—
used-
up but still
attendant—
and
glistening
off
in our sand-
colored sidewalk corners.
But that's—
precisely
how we decided
we require—
so very
very!
many of them.
very
very
little!—seems like it could possibly
depend upon—
those
moist brainy gumwads—
used-
up but still
attendant—
and
glistening
off
in our sand-
colored sidewalk corners.
But that's—
precisely
how we decided
we require—
so very
very!
many of them.
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