If wisdom comes with age explain Rimbaud
Wisdom is drinking a lot and then
sobering up halfway to the grave,
turning around and saying
Oh....
You can write about whatever you want. You can write about it all, go ahead, learn it all, go ahead,
get drunk on knowledge, drunk on dead men,
drunk on isms and opinions. If you can think it, you can drink it,
but don't waste time thinking when you could be drinking.
hindsight ain't nobody's *****
Nov 17, 2017
Nov 17, 2017 at 2:32 AM UTC
How do I know when to stop editing, to stop critiquing,
To stop looking for errors that I'll inevitably find
Courtesy of my flawlessly functioning mind
That does what It's told
And finds what It's told to find
In a sea of subjective humbug
Let's try working backwards. Let's try
Finding what resonates with us. How do we
Do that if we have no idea what resonates with us.
How do you find a hole in an air mattress or a weak spot in the drywall or
The small of your lovers back
You ******* look for it
How do you find a needle in a haystack
Why not try using up the hay
Before digging around for the small hazardous object
You ******* lunatic
Oh, but this is full of errors
I can see them from here
Have you not legs?
Well then have you not wheels?
Well what have you?
Good! USE IT.
Picture a room
Through the slit of an iron maiden
What do you see
A room
What do you feel
Why
Could you feel differently
If
You tried
Stop picturing, start looking, continue feeling and being?
Bah, try doing. Keep busying. Busying is key, and the lock is none of your concern.
It's probably a ****** one anyways. Who knows what it holds shut. Who knows
How effectively it holds it shut. Who knows what lies behind the thing that It's
Holding shut.
Shut up,
Ps. I love you
-MR-
Nov 8, 2017
Nov 8, 2017 at 4:10 AM UTC
There was another Sunny day shot down in its mid-prime half-cocked wishing-hour- lens focused black spinning endless through the galley
whispered up to me from down below, told you not to tell, you told
now here comes Teve and Tern eternal
fleeting through the narrow passage wiping
reams of dust with microfiber cloths from off/on/off
whole Aesop fables told and burned up Joan of Arc turns pale
the moonlight never saw a thing
not when the stuff was key and turning round the alley round the corner down the street
apartment S.O.C.I.E.T.Y. all cautioned off that same old smell of
fun and games like blame game shame game games we used to play in the Sunny day shot down bang gotchya king of wasps
defend the street defend the block then meet up in the garage
trees, grass, stones, the edifices of our perfect world inhabited by X and
A thru Z excluding Y self-sucked self-humped half-slumped over the
desk in the central library now It's deduction time, pull out your questions
line-up
suit-up,
load-out, jump-out
over-and-out, roger roger roger roger Teve and Roger and Tern eternal reeling
thoughtless X to X itself on subjects A-Z excluding
Y up on the welfare, on the limp-train, lives in A-P-T-S-O-C-I-E-T-Y
cries over spilt milk from the G-R-O-C-E-R-Y-S-T-O-R-E
narrow passageways with red-caps loading red-caps into die-cast-plastic-pitfalls
start stop crouch prone half-cocked half-wishing-hour-lens focused black spinning endless through the tall grass
tall trees
dead leaves, dead sticks,
deaf crickets/ weevils/ ants
deaf beetles in the dead leaves, in the black grass,
bits of broken glass
scrape, scraped, scraping up the newborn flesh
they're fleeting through the hornet's nest
the wasps and black-flies perched upon the unseen slivers
of the slivers
of the tall, black, dead, lush, fresh, free, flowing, growing, burning, screaming, hulking, looming shadows cast against the grass of green
It's time to thank
thank you, thank you, thank you,
thank me, thank them, thank us, thank this, thank that,
thanks again, thanks for everything, yeah thanks, thanks man, thanks bro, thanks pop thanks ma thank God &
Time to say goodbye
Goodbye, goobye! Bye-bye! So long! Farewell! Take care! Be safe! Be good! Work hard! Good luck! Ta-Ta! Peace out! Peace be
with you!
Have fun! Have fun! have fun! have fun! Have fun!
And now It's time to eat
Munch munch, crunch munch, munch crunch, crunch crunch, munch munch,
slirp slop slorp slirp slorp slip slip slorp slop slop
who eats this slop
slop slorp slorp crunch
slorp slirp slip munch
Thank you! Farewell!
Outside the sky is deep and warm and resolute you turn your friend is black and grey with bits of purple in between that seem to pulse as sirens wail the call to arms blunt sticks blunt instruments die-cast-from-the-mold boxed, shipped, bought, sold, loved, loathed left&right loved left&right bought left&right made left sold right sold left&right loose arms dangle jangle loose and free soar free across the grassy knoll the fields the deafened ants and beetles feast upon the left&right between the sea&sky upon the land here on the land you take my hand, we run off where the cave mouth gapes and shut behind us into darkness love and hate like sticks and stones collide caress and soon the sparks fluoresce behold the light we roast our rations, roast our cares, and then It's time to say goodnight.
Good-night! Sleep well! Sweet dreams! Sleep tight!
love you! love you! love you! love you! love you. love you. love you.
The filthy children banging on the gates, the crooked house high on the hill looks down and groans, the shelter seems to sigh, collapsing underneath the acid rain, a holy flood descends upon the town there's nothing left she clutches at her dress the wooden door inscribed
A.P.T. S.O.C.I.E.T.Y.
floats listlessly by
-MR-
Oct 21, 2017
Oct 21, 2017 at 2:20 PM UTC
Nothing without time, nothing without effort.
Hate without love, doubt without certainty, blindness without fear
Hold your hand and I'll cradle it for us both. Ball a fist and my fingers will explore the craters of your tiny world.
For you I will, and that's the eternal truth.
-MR-
Oct 8, 2017
Oct 8, 2017 at 2:40 AM UTC
This is the Ode
And this is the road
The road upon which I have traveled
For several long years
In search of a find
So profound
that it almost seems trivial
I love and I love and I love and I love
Until love becomes love becomes love becomes love
And I give and I give and I give and I give
Until love gives me love and I
See what I've done
And the road underneath me
Inspires an Ode to my agony
Sung in the key of a misery
Hitherto hidden and ******* the fat
From my back but now
Fully developed, it clings
To my ankles
And calls me its stoic companion
Which ****** me off
Every step that I take
On behalf of this mess
That in some way I'm certain I'm in
And the misery changes Its pitch
To confuse me
and slowly
I feel myself
waning
in size
As the what ifs and why nots
Which color the sky
Just ahead
Seem to lose their appeal
over time
But I love to be loved,
and to love all the Love
even when It's just love masquerading as
oh,
never mind.
Every step is a sentence
Without punctuation
An infinite alphanumeric equation
And this is the Ode
And this is the road
Oct 8, 2017
Oct 8, 2017 at 2:02 AM UTC
She came to ask me how I felt
I didn't know the answer
I just made it up, went on for hours,
Quoting dead philosophers
I drew a chart and mapped it out
incorporating stars and math
I drew some lines
some circles, too
and talked about displacement
I can't remember why,
but at some point I went outside
I was fixated on the evergreens
across the street from me
When someone who was not her
came and took me by the hand
just as the moon was melting
into me
I swear...
it licked my hippo-campus.
Then Saturn with its rings came spinning gently down to meet my eye line just as I was slipping out of time, I felt the weight of my own skin on someone else; could feel their bones a-grating, clacking, clanging, then the screaming, who was screaming?
Safety first they said as riding past on silver tentacles with common sense stitched on their clothes I knew I had to get me one of those
look out, somebody heard you telling time again, they know the time, you're not the keeper of the time, back on the hunt again, that's when
she took me by the hand
and said my name a thousand times
at least ten thousand times
a couple times
there was a silence then the dawn came on so suddenly
it didn't seem to match the tone
I knelt and prayed in case, you never know, these days you never
know which second will reveal Itself to be
some sort of agent
sacrosanct peacekeeping sky patrol
is everywhere, you know, you never know, and she
asked me how I felt,
and that was it.
Oct 7, 2017
Oct 7, 2017 at 2:06 AM UTC
In the dim yellow light beneath deciduous trees she spun methodically in Autumn. Shadows loomed aloft, chirping their approval. She spun and seemed to levitate, the flickers of the evening flame reflected in her pale green eyes darting in between loose strands of bland vermilion hair. And she spun and spun as if she'd spin forever,
Autumn.
She was Autumn there and then, personified in glints of golden green and faded yellow brown descending listlessly to greet the open canvas of the forest floor.
And the shadows pressed into the earth and disappeared as overhead the rain slashed through the shyness of the crowns betwixt the trees.
And she slowly spun her last, and lastly, panting stood before me naked, shivering in the gentle gales that rose and fell like Mozart's heavy heart.
I beckoned her with dead weights crudely fashioned to the pauldrons of my coffin that hung lowly, swaying listless as the leaves. And she smiled a tired smile and blew the kiss I yearned for seasons to receive before collapsing in the dirt.
In Autumn.
-Mike Robbins-
Oct 1, 2017
Oct 1, 2017 at 5:50 PM UTC