Smiles
On my face

I don't think
It's just

The alcohol
And drugs

It may not
be poetic

To be
Deliriously

Happy
for a moment

So

For your sake
I'll say it's sandwiched

'Tween episodes
of soul biting

angst
It's not tho

it's just
I've decided



Copyright@2018 Dennis Willis

On this page of a night
I've ridden new words
with headlights
and pedals whirling
some went puhlumka

Of course I didn't know
did you ever actually know
you were on the way
to right here
how could you

others went awry
and still got here
on time
though its late
in verse

there's a sugary bit
to be had for sure
not much of a lure
hung on ramblings
where I cannot get

There is nothing to like
or love
here

"You live in the feeling of your thinking." -Clarity

So I try
to live in

the beautiful
poetry you write

and
in your intent

to write such
even if they clang

off the rim
of my teensie winsie

art hole

Clang

sorry

the best
arn't private

seed
hope

often by sharing
despair

"ah"
we think

I am
of

Here


Copyright@2018 Dennis Willis

Saying
I don't want it

God
I want it

I
walk away

inside

as I give in
to it

losing to my idea
of it

and falsely giving it
credit

iz zalweys
me



Copyright@2018 Dennis Willis

I like the blank page
the empty line
the waiting space
of meaning

the waiting space
of sound

the reddening
against the white
is always black
and stark

ruddy and wet
needing water
wriggling vines
wannabe lines

scarce on an edge
is plentiful here
would you like two
just toss in this you

it's a goner and a
should uh an' a would uh
wrestled into a could uh
and I'm definitely gonna

fill this mf'er in
fill this mf'er up
this mf'er up
mf'er up

When I am out in here
and think of things
I can say to you there
I'm not here nor there
I am nowhere
and talking about
being there
as if it were
somewhere
and its always
too hot there

I'm having more conversations
with imaginary people
well maybe
semi-imaginary

I'm not sure
what you are
or why I'm
all in here

Sellin' the sizzling
of artful hollow
emptyings
of naught

Oh
I digress
what a y
can do

and there it is
my humanity
distracted no attracted
to that with a y

Yours seekin'
Mayhaps mine
Y sublime
reach for me

I close my eyes
and constellations
arise

Who is signalling me
from inside my head
with the big dipper
and orion's belt
in that sequence
on my eyelids

I took seven syllables hostage
in front of the entire sentence
I was brutal
they allocuted
it was choppy

I don't know how to go there
I say knowing how to go there
something spurts out
in a slow wave
clinking along

In our nonsensical carriage
dreaming of paths or naught
all this echo
of a texture
saying something

If i drive it right over there
does there suffer much
so don't push it
i often think
slipping between

I Screamed awake
like a cliche's

first awareness
heard that

there then
now uhhh really

yeah
reaally

i need a
burn

you know
what i mean

a throw your head back
darkness

inwards
from your spine

smokin'
awareness

of thin-ness
what is thin

what is love
don't

I like it
that way

random
hurt me

assemble me
in your

rhyme
alliteration

big word
about

listen
to taste


Copyright@2018 Dennis Willis

This is imaginary
is always true
everything else
turns out

Feeling blindly along
past my thought
that my eyes are open
when I learned
that I don't really
have eyes

what in search of what
uncertain about the search part too
seems to be happening
here now

and we each have our own
here now

that you are imagining
here now

even this connection
of thought
is an imagined now

I imagine now
I imagine you do too
I imagine you

Everything is now
Everything is new

I must know
what I imagine
deeply

Casting my scenarios
fishing for delight

this terror of life
imagined strife
days on a knife
is only ice
p-poured on your life
these brains dancing
with their songs
with their throngs
imagined hongs
tatong tatong
are you along
for a song for
a longing
you
of you
along
am along
with you
right? Please
tell me          i'm
along

I have a clear place
I drove past it recently
at high speed
and I saw
myself there
driving by
I was going
really really fast
and writing
lines of poetry
at the same time

im an interstitial pistol aimed at your nichel
you know your silken lies are everything to me
timed sequences lie about the future and come close
to everything close to everything is frightening
so i pull in push away close my eyes and say
this is lemon this is grape this right here fate
or was it cake its bad i know to fake all they take
and i don't live in the ****** fight so sorry
you and i wondering where this is going gone
our mind imagines something other than now
and in our disbelief we die all day and drink
the darkness outside of this as if it existed

Scrambling, I assure you,
from a distance
try get over those commas
will ya
I can't find the ****
to whatever this distance

is

and am ambivalent maybe
or not about what not
and
well
you

can this be crossed
is this my shell
clamming up
footing off

snick snick
something is
advancing
subterranean
stranger
I know

Censored

I miss dial tone
it's sonorous
reassurance yes
the world is on

these bars
stepping up and down
when i close my eyes
lose their sooth

the waiting
hum of the world
would carry your
very vibration

down the line
you would own
miles of line
with your tone

there were some
they called
"long lines"
you could say "um"

it seemed
to cross time
and you
were tethered

my voice
driving one
miles long wave
rising and falling

across rivers and lands
to someone, me feeling
as if my own sound wave
could nibble on their ear

i don't get the ah
anymore from this
this connectionless
shredder of vibe

For you
Just realized
how much you are in my mind
when I'm writing

I am
writing to you

Or is it for you?

Catching myself
Displaying

you are my muse
I hope the ****

You are paying
attention

*******
call me


Copyright@2018 Dennis Willis

I am always leaving now
skittering in place
I am convinced
by my effort

that I am not
now anymore

a kid
closing his eyes
to not be seen

peeking out
**** now

skittering bolstered chemically
closed eyes
opened unseeing

now without me
unfound

i am only lessened
cursed now
remains unleft

Copyright @2018 Dennis Willis

I create these
things of beauty
to me

That you
dance
about

with scissors
running
at

stop i'm not
a poem
yet

and you're
not
even real.

this *****
inspiration
this look it up
fenestration
with a flashlight
and a crowbar

after openings
invariably
come closings

this stops me
except for
more openings

aren't we
distracted
by now

and the needle
has been
slipped in

and that's ok
in numbness say
I found a way

Men are crushing our bodies
so they can feel important
so they can feel powerful
I'll show you bullets
I'll show you how strong
I am stronger than you
You'll see egos scream
armed up and angry
righteousness
living in their heads
living in your head
a smug prelude

On a nap
I realize

The justification parade
Ensues

Out late
Up early
Hurley burly


I'm sneaking up
On a bag of potato chips

I realize

I've eaten well
Leads the big parade
Just a few chips
Close behind

Thinking
thinking again
trapped in slow time
of imagining all these arrows
inbound

imagining them landing
with that movie sound
points arriving in muscle
shocking
to your sense of life

No reaction no clench
as we are numb to sharpness
and its friend hardness
as they are only words
vacationing

People passing up
opportunities
for playfulness

*******
I say

've
had it

with
serious you

with
fearful you

with
stuck in you

you

Oh and
Broken ******' hearted u

too

So if
any of thems
U?

Unpack your funny bone
and slap the universe

in the ***
with it

Nothing changes
Of course

Except
You're laughing

Making
you

Okay even
fun

tha's way better
an' more tractive

Fun Now

Getting you
to listen

to me
talking to myself

and thinkin'
's 'bout you

when
's not

From you

This rudimentary
*** mail system works

Sniff sniff
Sniff sniff sniff

Ah

I have to pull myself away these days
By the collar

Snort


Copyright@2018 Dennis Willis

I'm still

I'm running
still

I'm still running

I'm still
running

Still running
Still running
here just here
running

I am here
i would run
i should run
i ran
holding
still as if
it would spill

and it would
it would spill
it would still
everything

censored

I'm thinking about a place to be
That is very near here

Well to be accurate
It is here

I'm thinking about a place to be
Here, I'm thinking about here

My here
Your here

Are we
here?

Not now
of course

then realize
Yes now

Like I've frozen
a Now

And a Here
In ink

Not
Ink

Electrons
I'm writing in ******* electrons

I realize

Saved some
******* place

Via
my phone

And photons
Wait

Photons were involved
with ink

thank God
for photons

they're
just like home

Light snacking
In a new 'verse


Copyright@2018 Dennis Willis

the kind of rhythm you seek
not that loving that's weak

let's you run
let's you stand
let's you dance
let's you writhe
in a trance

The incisive wit
chopped down

lain out sad
upon the ground

you know
that earth

that wet but not
sticky but easily

brushed off
you feel *****

and natural
in no hurry

to clean up
and looking where

to take this
incisive energy

Let's chip away
At the reason
I am alone

Again

First
Let me deflect

Its them
You and me
Were the same

A toast then
to what is wrong
with all of them

What is this crumb
floating near
my heart

I taste
Nearness to you
Closeness to comfort

What wiring
fires
so memories can fry

I am sinking
into this
I'm not sure

So what

Pasture of grass
blades
So many weeks

Of this now
this particular
Now

Editing away
at my meal
of sparrows

Proving
I should be followed
and loved

To whom
To the desperation
Cooking dinner for one


Copyright@2019 Dennis Willis

I have a fold
of space time
I'm causing
it to open
Exposing its
sticky lines
strung
to humming
a 40 yr old song
"...has broken,
blackbird has
spoken..."
To continue
this has lately
become
restringing
lost notes
some stinging
if you hear it
and have a go
increasing the fold
say so

Do you inflate
your pain?

For attention
or art?

Lips to the
plastic ******

blow
hard




Copyright@2019 Dennis Willis

I may be
renting
a life

Slamming doors
as if
I care

and humans
do look
at me

wondering
about
danger

and i grip
nothing
and hope

not today
not this
slow way

I think
I talk
to you

I think
[panic]
[panic]

You  should
'nt stare
here

Gone ing
peek ing
ingout

So I went to the gods
and beseeched them
to give me more ink

they laughed mightily
and gave me a lifetime's
before going digital

There is ink spilled
on white worn linen
well scrubbed wood
railings smooth and worn
tremolo sounds across baseboards
and cabinetry of cypress

These grains in wood speak
as if they were twirled
on a song and open smile
and i wonder what isn't
twirled across time and faces
nothing

Something uncertainly beautiful
melts you into it




Copyright@2019 Dennis

In my car
In the garage
Bob Seger as loud
as I can stand
turn the page
Here I go again


What is the breath
you **** in hard here
Here I am
turn the page


It's under the influence
of a tale caught in telling
all your love
walking out the door


the interlude calms
angst in rhythm dissipates
beaten down by drums
I'll go along with this song


fortune and mistrust
fall behind blondie
and me
singing against you


And your construction
like trials of Distance
build time and presence
getting through now

I'll accept no false transit
as I stand up finger up
just do it to get it
moving on
as I stand up
remembering how
and then spasm
of unused
*******
pressed back

This gun I load
now

Explosive bullets
Hollow tips

One at a time
Snick into place

Snick, snick
Chank chank

One is in
the chamber

Poised
Waiting the go signal

Go go go
hissing

through cooled air
a hard line

ending in a cough
A nasty carriage return

A denouement
searing inward

Blood smattered verbs
Moving

In recoil
I laugh

It's a giant ha
DNA pruning DNA

the captain wants
the wave to come

So many things
to be undone

So many things
to be caressed

And itches
galore

The next day
Is poised in the chamber

I am listening
for steps

I know you're
coming for me

Over my shoulder
Glimpses

Smart
the way u fit n

I read you
tho

and your unholy
words

I can smell
burned soul

pierced thru
Oh
this place


Copyright@2018 Dennis Willis

Intervening
Inserts
Itself
Insinuating

I know

I don't

Imagine
It

Irregular

Incrementally
Identifiable

Irksome
I think now

Insouciant
Instants

Incist

I'll shut up now
I won't shut up now
I'll shut up now
I won't shut up now
I'll be nice to myself
instead oh shut up

unlikelyhoods
of grey paper
trimmed to fit
carefully on
grayish don'tknows
all unwritten
excusably
late in the day
when too late you
starts realizing
just any feeling
in my pocket
i would rocket
but gave myself
slips of nothing
taped onto
uncertain wings

What kind of poetry turns you on?
What kind of rhythm brings you on?
What kind of structure holds you on?
all scant purchase for a soul
that isn't buying on
i make no claims on sense
and contain lost sensibility
amidst this fumbling hillbility
i'm just behind this curtain
with a broom wondering

Censored

In the thin stuff
today

Wispy life
while doing

and
ducking
swings

Ah that's it
those blows
from that hand

And I am
skittering again

Held back by
holding back

And less connects me
today than yesterday

I need
More
of these lines

To lash this raft
back together



Copyright@2018 Dennis Willis