8/31/12

Sound?

Do I have poetry worth reading?
It seems I missed the boat. A lot.
Am I in the right ocean?
facing the right direction?

The point at end is sound,
but sounds have many ways around.

Amber

A cry in wood and sun
of seasoned labors burnt none
Of peace: furnace-brung
of songs in grain unsung

A plea pulses to all things
slow moving through amber
A yearning dirge on the strings
A homestead heart unanswered.



Carmel haze,
How do you fare?
Gooey glow glazes to glare
to soften despair

All right, all good
A sweet treacle trickles
throughout the wood
a fitting form
found spread between shadows

Winds sift
Breathing life to leaves
but it soon leaves
leaving amber on the breeze
A warming wrap
coating like dreams

Bridges in the sky

A fronting alignment on the sky
Traced with the airy pebbles
of an overarching beach

Like bulbous steps made over and on
a reaching over with a puff of a touch
The  yearn of yawning burn

to a place beyond sunsets
to a roadless intersection
to a place without sea

A place for me?

Overflow

He soaks up sweet
to keep his to my feet
But the room is warm
His brain is tallow

Good evening cello
master of mellow
He snarks without hearing
Too full to feel

So climbs the pressure,
The hatred
the greed
He roams just to feel
just to live
just to breathe

Pop.

It's lowly at first
unexpected,
he groans and curses the burst

But his flates flow till he falls flat
pouring out woe, he sputtered and spat


8/26/12

truth

The truth: I feel lame
A bound mind-mound
meant to categorize failure

The truth: it seeps
The energy squeezing itself'
Choking on a force not there

The truth: I done
Done doing dither
Done dying to care

8/24/12

Coalesce

A mark of sweat lashes the paper
A product of elements unknown
The prize of a fugitive from his ramble
To categorize his chitterings from below.

8/20/12

Bit of Piece

There is no time to Play
Play does not see time
Play does not know time

There is always a time to Work
Time pushes Work
Time domineers Work.

8/18/12

Drop

On a hazy spirit
pinned by summer gloom

A drop,
floating on its flutters
fearless to the abyss
plumets down with bliss
to rest.

Solace askew

A curtain of comfort leaves me keening
As I see it awaken in dreaming
for this world I know
only breathes naive glow
I contemplate it leaving

8/11/12

On envoyages to a friend Part 3

A gem of creamy white
did I touch tonight
it softened me
to open it
to work the adhesion
till i'd made a lesion
for the words to bleed out
Too many here to count
only to breathe
and read
And maybe through osmosis
hear the faintest heartbeat
the cherished nourishment
of bonds and kinship
_______________________




It was a beautiful letter
for its simplicity and care
in a time where I'm sure
The heart wasn't there

On envoyages with a friend Part 2


She Calls:

She sees your eyes,
your thirsty eyes,
peak out from behind your sleazy words.
Your hands, broad as cayak paddles
Run smoothly over the curves
Of long, drawn-out s's
As you roll like a kitten through your vowels,
purring as the r's bump and tickle you playfully
Those words
Even the shampagne blushes in its glass,
As you stir in the syllables and have her drink.
Drink those words,
Those greased-over sounds.

But not this time.
She gags against your innuendos,
Your participles.
She spews them on your jacket
"No", she says as she leaves.
The hurled words raw and stinking on a silk shirt
This time she didn't swallow it.

Didn't expect that
Did you?
________________________________________

I Answer:

Oh, your Chamomile toungue
laziting long in the sun
Squeezes out a wine divine
My my, she's riding fly to a superstar high 
in a literary realm of cool,
But raising the floor to the cooler below
She rides into her domain
to rule.


A healthy smattery of insane
Matches clattery of pain
worked by hands you adore.
Now roaming down icy
Mind blued up and spicy
She's everything you'd want and more.

On envoyages of a friend Part 1

I steam in the sun
It burns my brain cells
It burns my stem cells
Thus I reach no further
Only rattling hollow
with the resonance of my bones

Astonishment amounts
as I hear the tiniest echo
and I find my bones hollow
Puffed now
on the overripe gibberings
of dusty old lips
From a crusted age of wanderlust
______________________________________



8/2/12

A separate discomfort

She haunts me
She haunts me from a cave of unadulterated good
I haven't left the cave yet
Wonder if I should.

Give me the gates to find my way 'round
Tortured by a witch under the mound
hidden in by the pulp of confusion
Sundered attempts to right this confusion

Sifting through
Sifting through a photo album
I haven't seen her yet
I know I'll find sum

Rustic dinges held away by rusty hinges
When will my sea come to me
With sun's reflection of poetry
Cannablastic maddness in a jail cell

I hear a piano
I hear her playing me a song
I haven't heard it yet
It's mine

cataclysm screeching from pedantic reaching
She kills me with each imagined kiss
Don't leave me like this.
Don't leave me like this.

My hummingbird

I've been buzzed by a few birds that hum,
but none flew like this one.
See the concentrate fanaticlast
riding sidewind
Flitting fit for an upper-caste.
Yet a bat I am.
A black soarer
Night horror
Terror of the samarkand
She holds me in wisdom
Pulls me tight within.
Lips full of quips
like heirloom ships.
And while the day grows dim
She rips away worry
Sailing like fury
Peacefully playing a hymn
Look at the state she's got me in.

________________________________________


The hummingbird, from a distance, appears as one
of the most graceful and mysterious beings of the
world. As one looks closer, they see wings beating
like madness incarnate. She flies in any direction
she wishes, evading worries of most birds with
darting alacrity. Up close, her gentle flight sounds
more like the roar of a wild animal.
A potent talker,
A graceful walker,
with seemingly magical deviance to boot
This is why I attribute such a creature to you.