I thought to acquire
A piece of wall art;
Reproduced in mass would be fine
As long as it’s attractive, yet honest,
without tasteless jest,
And appears to be organic,
Cultivated
At the artist’s discretion.
In the catalogue, my attention falls
To a print
Of an anatomical drawing
From a botanical field guide,
Colored with pencil: the perianth
A pastel pink
That yields to a gentle yellow
Just before
the petals are enveloped
by the green sepal coat.
High on the hanging stems
Round buds of emerald and buttery cream
Follow their elders
In gradient lines of expansion
To the end where the eldest
Bend into blossomed bells;
All come together and seem
As a pink and gold Easter dress.
From the petals stretch
The pistils and stamen.
Reaching
Reaching
Gasping, I can nearly hear
The flower’s patient breathing,
Waiting
For a kiss
From a fluttering errant proboscis.
The pistil aims for the ether,
To another’s anther and
Pollen dusted petals.
Tempted now am I
To wear always
A corsage about my neck.
Apr 20, 2015
Apr 20, 2015 at 10:51 PM UTC
You mangy mutt
Please look at us
We want to see your eyes
I cannot
Contain myself
When I sympathize
And all we want
Is just three words
Unsolicited
And all I want
Is just a touch
And blessing on the head
What has happened to you
A hex, A Vexation
Please come back
And did you see me walk out
A test, or reality
I’ll come back
She looks for
just her share
Of your attention
He waits for
You to help
Build a nation
I don’t feel
I’m asking more
That you said you’d give
Not privilege
Or shiny things
Show me how to live
What has happened to you
A hex, A Vexation
Please come back
And did you see me walk out
A test, or reality
I’ll come back
When we
Burn the Witch
Burn her
Burn her
Burn the Witch
Burn her
Burn her
Burn the Witch
Burn her
Burn her
Burn the Witch
Burn her
Burn her
Sep 5, 2012
Sep 5, 2012 at 8:29 PM UTC
There it is, a wind from the East
A motion of warmth returns home
It moves, and something flutters
It moves, and I elate
Vacillant being, do not delay
With trite footings and teased notions
Here is the eclipse
A pinpoint light on you
Annexed streams, flow with the ghost
Who swells up our fervor
Who holds premonition
As we study the other
With the mood of the currents
Trees concave and vex
Leaves are fickle things
When the wind is cold
Dearest wind, whisper then laugh
Froth the waters, dismiss the clouds
Curl into these sails
Curl into me, do not delay
Dec 24, 2011
Dec 24, 2011 at 10:01 PM UTC
It can be dangerous
To encounter something
Thought provoking before sleep
Maybe you will have a couple of minutes of afterthought
And then drift to Sleep
Or you may catch Insomnia caused by, and causing,
A series of jumbled thoughts
Thoughts that change paths quickly, sharply and often
So they are crossing and weaving
Going up and down, side to side
Forwards, backwards, short and longways
Until you have an apparently infinitely tangled mess
And that point a 9mm seems appropriate
To clear out this heap that has kept you from
Much needed slumber for the past few hours
-Whew
Don't take this as a suicide attempt though
No this is merely a desperate, fantasy of an attempt for some rest
The next plan may be to scream,
as if jumping from a building
Hoping that the thoughts would leave
With the air from your lungs
Of course that would not work
Seeing how breathe and ideas
Come from different parts of the body
And your not so cruel to wake those who do manage to sleep
So now try to scream inside your head
But really you want someone to hear it
So the purpose (which I believe I no longer grasp) is defeated
Well, you could scream to yourself,
Or God
So someone knows what going on
But then out of now where arguments break out
Upon realizing that you are fighting with yourself
You fear a schizophrenic diagnosis
And argue with God (if you haven't already)
About why he gave you two personalities
That fight each other into the wee hours of the night
Then your mind will just happen to wander
From the quarrel
Analyzing the last point to come up
Which drifts into a semi-related tangent
Then wander to something some one did
That this particular thought reminds you of
Maybe that meanders on ever to the actions
Of a character from some book you've read
And after rereading the book inside your head
Go on and review everything you've read by the author
And relate how similar the name of the author is
Related to a cast member of a mind bending movie
As the lost pattern of whimsy gurgles like a puzzle of
Light bulbs flashing with assumed direction but no
Real goal in mind, but just on and on, etc, etc, etc,
Captured inside a tighter, messier ball than before
It can be dangerous
To encounter something
Thought provoking before sleep
Maybe you will have a couple of minutes of afterthought
And then drift to Sleep
Or you may catch Insomnia caused by, and causing,
A series of jumbled thoughts
Thoughts that change paths quickly, sharply and often
So they are crossing and weaving
Going up and down, side to side
Forwards, backwards, short and longways
Until you have an apparently infinitely tangled mess
And that point a 9mm seems appropriate
To clear out this heap that has kept you from
Much needed slumber for the past few hours
-Whew
Don't take this as a suicide attempt though
No this is merely a desperate, fantasy of an attempt for some rest
The next plan may be to scream,
as if jumping from a building
Hoping that the thoughts would leave
With the air from your lungs
Of course that would not work
Seeing how breathe and ideas
Come from different parts of the body
And your not so cruel to wake those who do manage to sleep
So now try to scream inside your head
But really you want someone to hear it
So the purpose (which I believe I no longer grasp) is defeated
Well, you could scream to yourself,
Or God
So someone knows what going on
But then out of now where arguments break out
Upon realizing that you are fighting with yourself
You fear a schizophrenic diagnosis
And argue with God (if you haven't already)
About why he gave you two personalities
That fight each other into the wee hours of the night
Then your mind will just happen to wander
From the quarrel
Analyzing the last point to come up
Which drifts into a semi-related tangent
Then wander to something some one did
That this particular thought reminds you of
Maybe that meanders on ever to the actions
Of a character from some book you've read
And after rereading the book inside your head
Go on and review everything you've read by the author
And relate how similar the name of the author is
Related to a cast member of a mind bending movie
As the lost pattern of whimsy gurgles like a puzzle of
Light bulbs flashing with assumed direction but no
Real goal in mind, but just on and on, etc, etc, etc,
Captured in a tighter, messier ball than before
Still no closer to falling into bliss and dreams
Continuing a run around circle of red eyed agony
And what of Emotions
Before it was a string
With many frayed and loose ends
All tied into a childish knot
Now add your emotions from the day
A bunch of gunky wax and slime
You stuck with a coarse
stringy
mushy
smelly
tangled
and damp
pile of sspthpthtphtphthhh (a.k.a. crap)
And the only things
That seem a proper remedy
For this pile of crap
Are tranquilizers meant
For animals much larger than you
Or just a friendly bullet
(One with a hollow tip to really clear out)
You know you could get up
Read,
Write,
Watch some TV
But even though you are
Completely awake and
Fully alert
You are just too tired to up
But if by some miracle
You do manage to just doze off
This perpetual law of irony dictates
That your alarm is not even
Three moments from sounding
And in that ringing
Is a true moment you may wish to have that bullet
Jul 7, 2010
Jul 7, 2010 at 7:34 PM UTC
This dog has a death grip on me
This dog,
That use to have fine beautiful coat,
now is matted and flea infested fur
Who use to rule the pack and lead the hunts
is now living off of table scraps
This dog has a death grip on me
The mutt that is kicked and starved,
neglected and used
He lost his love for the moon,
his intimacy with the stars
This is the dog that has a death grip on me
Teeth chipped and broken
can still set deep in
Teeth chipped and broken
need to bite harder yet
To pull him by the tail
is to offer more of the meat on my arm
Yanking on the tail and ears
is provoking redundant mutilation
Because this dog has a death grip on me
Because this dog has a death grip on me
I look up to the moon
And cry silently to the stars
Jun 21, 2010
Jun 21, 2010 at 12:07 PM UTC
Worm in the ground
Chewing on forest roots
Turns and grows just under the topsoil
Listen to the trees creek and moan
Dragon lore is no longer fable
Do not touch
He will bite
Do not dig
He will scream
Grow,
grow,
grow in malevolence and sting
Devour cedars from bottom up
Tear flesh down to bone delicate bone
Eager search of heart
An owl screeches
An owl cries
Flies to water
But still feels dry
Hunting with lances and spears
Dig,
pull,
and cut up
He knows ****** is best to kindle flame
So what do you think he then breathes on me
Cut the monster, spill him out
Bleeding fire
Bleeding fire
Trees sent to ash
The forest to soot
Smells so similar to death,
Or at least I think so
Fire dies down
And buds sprout out
Even angels singing
"Hallelujah! Sweet Fall Breeze"
But still, quiet in December
There are worms in the ground
Jun 21, 2010
Jun 21, 2010 at 11:03 AM UTC
Dread
Deep,
Deep,
Dread
Waiting to lift a rock
Under which I have left a Viper
Venom nonfatal
But abscesses and grows
Cultivates already infected,
decaying tissue
Weight my temple
Drop from a tower
Only the ground below and
On all sides
Dread, pass me by
Deaf, blind viper
Is this paranoia
No, I tremble legitimately
Jun 16, 2010
Jun 16, 2010 at 7:52 PM UTC
The sun, moon, and stars
Have all just collapsed
They crumbled
crumbled
crumbled
Settled as a *****
pile of rubble
Covered,
Smothered,
Tethered to a millstone;
Plunged beneath the sea
Watch it sink beneath the breach
DOWN
Down
down
Beyond the fish and eels
And monsters of the deep
Down beyond Poseidon's lair
And with the weight,
I have set a piece of me
But, still, I can see
Jun 12, 2010
Jun 12, 2010 at 10:48 AM UTC
I have found a magnificent sea monster in the Ocean of my mind
It is tall, red, blue and gold, beautiful to free searching eyes
With scales that flash from pattern to random distortion
His once tall sharp teeth have been dulled and broken
From gnawing on my heart
Below the surface he is dark and murky
with out describable shape and with indefinite size
I give him a name, that is always different, but to everyone the same
He has swallowed up the rotting, black banner ships
Bitter things that foul in his gut
These things cause him fester from the inside
And dilate to mountainous proportions
It is this terrible Poseidon that I fear
He calls out- "Oh, my swollen, aching belly. What are these now but tears?"
Who knew that such a beast could cry
Even more so, cry in such cognate rhythm with me
And so I begin my chase, I figure something so majestic
can be both at once liberated and on display
I follow him close behind through the gales and waves of the tempest
Oh how we both loath the days that I loose the wind
He also loves to play this game
** He has led me to the edge of the infinite blue
The border of my mind
He leaps over, delivering a jubilant wail
That resonates within the falling water
He crashes hard on paper
Dying and bleeding he twists and writhes in panic
He tears through the pages, ripping holes, he leaves behind a carnage of red confetti
At the bottom of the page, his eyes close as he lies in final signature
Upon a rock on the edge, enthralled, I watch the monster's theater
Water gushing past me, waves spraying me with rapture
Then I cry out- "My friend, why did I drive you this far? You were one of
the great beauties of my Ocean. It has lost its vibrancy and energy
For you were in and of each other, composed as one"
As I breathe and find satisfaction, I steer my ship to where I began
Gazing over the liquid crystal dunes
Hoping for equal fluorescent color to match
So I notice a sea monster egg, ready to breach
Floating along the waves of the Ocean of my mind
May 30, 2010
May 30, 2010 at 10:07 AM UTC