Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2016 · 400
spearheads found in sand
Carl Hoek Sep 2016
hey every one
I've decided to **** my compactor
my professional lock
just a post
without digging a ditch
securing a post

hover like that in pink sky
the creature that lives off
blue sky

my heart aims
my lungs

and i'm supposed to call you
what again
oh yes
out of respect

Anger, no.:  just like me
Passion.: yet distant and false
Death discussions

long live all

it misses
struggles to me then and to everyone
Mar 2016 · 488
i am inside
Carl Hoek Mar 2016
the stunner is the death he holds inside
the way he takes you out of your body
and places you down softly on the dirt

work for rest
rest for work
the masks we wear
have almost worn out
and its only left
to the rubber straps around your ears
to keep the act together

like a worm
**** up the moonlight
distill it so i can drink from the sun

your hopeless floating voice
and the dream
other things and so much more dream
the disjointed

mostly pain
and its only my pleasure to help it get worse
Feb 2016 · 646
bye bye val
Carl Hoek Feb 2016
bye bye valentine
you said i was the puppy that everyone wants to touch
i wont let them
you were the one with perfect posture
and it makes us all want it
you were the one with all the "**** me"
in you
and you sacrifice it all for yourself
like a feral dog or cat
him as a self reliant fool
me as the everyone else
my sense of possession
my harmless diseases
themselves apparent in waning gibbous moonlight

the mildly pretty one who says
can i get in there?
of course you can
but here in this empty place
even though you're gorgeous ( everyone forgets about beauty and feeling)
even when your that
you're still that
and there might not have conscious

as she sat next to me everyday
i didn't say a word
not because i was afraid of what she could say
but because i knew what she couldn't say

and to think of the parched mind as supplement to my heart beating
take all you need to drown your to your hearts content
the mildew we sprinkled on pretty days
mold inside the walls threatening to bring the health department in
and shut the place down

insect wings wetted by spit flying from your mouth
from talking too much
we're here up in the big blue silver lining waiting for you to come home
waiting for the hammer to come down

we know each other now
and even our sleepless nights are punctuated by thoughts and dreams of each other
happy v-day
Dec 2015 · 255
Carl Hoek Dec 2015
the kitchen counter has been disinfected
we don't have interns here
they didn't clean it
because there is nothing to promise them

i am truly afraid to have children
not because i know they will grow up
it is because they will grow up
they will
hate me
but because it is too easy to see that
there is nothing left for them
its pathetic and easy to forget our victories
the value of the scent in your hair that soothes me

i ruin it, potentially
******* thats reading this come at me bro come here and let me smash a whiskeybottle over your head
Dec 2015 · 307
Carl Hoek Dec 2015
she looked at me blankly
i only saw the floor
she said something softly
but my ears couldnt catch the air she moved with her beautiful lungs and ugly lips
now there is light
and i feel airy
ive been blinking too much
or maybe making sand castles
but she told me
there's only one way down
Dec 2015 · 400
spine my figure eights
Carl Hoek Dec 2015
colors we saw when we were kids are gone now
there was vitrified rock
a volcano maybe
even an unidentified blast

he ran at me like a terrified dog
i tried to help my son
but by the time we got to the hospital
he was already gone

why this desert?
why are there no insects?

human records exist
they always die trying to escape

in the geographic pattern
animal occurances
time dialted beauty

what or where is my eraticism
petrol, eayon, venus , mars , off kilter

steady magnetic stream
my compass stables

all get magnet affected
please message me im desperate
Carl Hoek Oct 2015
swarms of little biting creatures at my ankles
smokey eye talent for your cover up
camoflauging your heart
or the thing thats there now
that you used to call the heart

i saw you naked
i saw you in bed

when i close my eyes i see showers of little water droplets cleaning you off
so i wont be able to smell
the smell of you getting ******
should i be worried?
should i care?

probably not
because i know where youre at
and its the same on my end
theres no blame here
how can there be
where all of us are categorically wronged against

acting accordingly
stapled up hearts trying to bear full loads of wet tears but at the same time trying to perform
what too many consider to be the proof of love

could you stay with me until the gold appears?
when i die its all yours
the big fat math problem in my bank account
Oct 2015 · 520
later down the alley
Carl Hoek Oct 2015
exspression sometimes the binary conclusion,
the concave mass of what my eyes have seen or have yet to see or what they used to see
the abscence of your body between the sheets lying next to me,
leaves me memories and faint reminders of scent carried by air
decaying leaves on the wind,
tommy hillfiger perfume,
smoke all and any kinds of smoke,
the smell of oil paints and the taste of latex,
floor tiles,
a shot of ***** you took and held in your mouth just to spit it down my throat.
blue smoke rings,
burnt holes in every piece of fabric i own
down the  alley
later down the alley
Oct 2015 · 408
for them
Carl Hoek Oct 2015
now i fet it the broccoli exploding heads against me
put the wavering native american eyes in your mouth
chew and swallow
i see heaven now laid out on a dusty suburban street
with heavens light poking through holes in a dark dark liquor pool sky
all the little buggies like that

and then there you are
appearing out of stone green alabaster ladders
she comes now spewing hot sauce out of her mouth
winged lepars and polio stricken words out of dry ice sculpture
depends on what youre aiming at
backing up in reverse so many days
time spent in an old logging camp
years wasted in fruitless retrieval

its been tackled now
the fearless writhing of my reckless sack of bones
the fibers tearing apart like a ghost projecting a soul
a stringy mess of plasma

days and days and years and years up out of this shamble
this poor excuse for a signal
duck shaped glyphs flickering on a radar screen
walking down the dusty grey broken pavement
back and forth to the neon green river
in and out towards the warm light of love undulating
my lunge for the final helpless fury
and then
we let go
Oct 2015 · 386
beauty products
Carl Hoek Oct 2015
******* the machines that press
the makeup cakes
we should take the machines
that press chemicals into pills
and turn them into

******* and your ******* degree
your sense of art
your working thinking knowing of anything at all
its the same as the pill pressing machine
your ego
your sense of yourself
sense of accomplishment
twisted view of the world
no matter who you are
no matter where you come from
working to live and living to die

why shouldnt we be ****** ?
eternal children maybe

just think about your death
you will die
but its ok
we all have to
after all
Mar 2015 · 512
too fast (slowly)
Carl Hoek Mar 2015
demons in my blood
in my head

turning my gut inside out

making fear
making tumors

destroying their lives
blasting down to the bedrock

there are funnels
there is fresh blood

we get the teeth that sink into flesh
see the future and its faults

whirlwinds of pain
focused on delirium
horrific figures of the heart
cut in half

teach me magnetics
so we can push the skin off the earth
Mar 2015 · 466
the men and cement
Carl Hoek Mar 2015
i can see death and it can see me
lights out

shimmering dust bowl dreams
they are irrigated
they are firm
that is death inside of itself

these things people call important
or the things that make up themselves
wellbutrin dreams
adderoll dreams

all of it spheres of mica
makes up for the sand in the desert
or the tall rouge waves in the ocean

for everyone in distress
for everyone who loves
or has loved
for everyone who is totally alone
for everyone who gets their wishes

we share our hearts and souls
shed nothing but water color tears
should you feel alone
or empty
please know that i am a heartbeat away

put your head on my shoulder
i can stay like this forever
Dec 2014 · 308
Carl Hoek Dec 2014
hello, i come from varnish. not the liquor they intoxicate so wood can't age, the planet.

there in the glassy days we sit and bake in the resin coated sun. we are un aware that the desert teams with life. it is our heaven.

i come form owls eyes at night. i come from baby cries at dawn, i come from shadows in broad daylight, i come from loving the dead.

we are the asteroid
we come from all possibility
and we are here to destroy ourselves

until now
look at the pretty things
beyond all you must love

all is darkness
darkness is everything
everything is light
Dec 2014 · 2.7k
32nd and 5th
Carl Hoek Dec 2014
in-call only, 32nd and 5th
that's a brothel
that's human trafficking
looking for a kind and mature gentleman
200 roses

all sorts of devices
all fetishes
2 girls for one
this is not an offer for prostitution
donation is required for my time and companionship only

no email
no text
call when ready

im your best choice
toe curling excitement over and over again
100% real pics
i drive myself
no rush
Nov 2014 · 382
i try (never)
Carl Hoek Nov 2014
love the lying preachers and the dying fawn amongst the tall grass groves in the valleys of green hills
speak softly to the fairies and goblins that light your path
tread heavily upon such ground that you claim as yours
fear not the bellows of wire-men
show me thou drinking talent
thy smokey eyes
dead in the stomach of winter

they chant your name in the streets during wartime
even now i know my debt is due

down in the wonderful sweet taste of not being dead, i am here
i am here through salty waves, sun drop burps lively gaze
a stunning figure passing me every moment
today i have a conscious

i am a reticent hill
i speak for myself and my clouds

come fast and convert me to nice purple feelings
convert me into those salty waves
or downright garabge
fleeting all happy thoughts
now only the balanced can prevail
Nov 2014 · 616
aint she sweet?
Carl Hoek Nov 2014
how’s your day going?
oh, alright ya know
same **** different day
ya thats good
it’s a bit boring
yeh, i know what you mean
trust me

rolls eyes
don’t worry they do that all the time
all of them, you have no idea
try working in a place like this
i can’t imagine

she might  love me if i brought her up to the castle
or the ancient places hidden in the ramapo mountains
or blauvelt
the century old rifle range

puppy dog eyes
quivering lip
veins popping out just like  mine

i swear i don’t know what time it is
i swear i don’t give a **** anymore

this ones on me carl
this one too
Nov 2014 · 389
Carl Hoek Nov 2014
we sat there on the park bench to watch the passers by and to see the uselessness glisten on their faces
as if you could buy synthetic sweat in a spray bottle
i heard one of them call out up into the big bright blue sky
“ i just want to feel the lies and the spaces”
we stood still and watched one of them fly away for good.

after a while
we moved to the grass
a big green lawn on the east side of the park
place pressed down by other people sitting on blankets
just like us
but we didn’t sit
it was collapse
waterfalls and green pipe cleaners
for most of the day.
just holding and scared of what should happen next

when we start to die
apologies will be compulsory
hopefully we’ll all forgive and move on together
just like we have again, and again, and again.
Jul 2014 · 379
i went there
Carl Hoek Jul 2014
to say that something is or isn't takes great courage
and as we hold hands in the middle of the street
the pavement cooling off in the strange summer dusk
i stand and look at you and you know
i went there

to the dancing baby- bled flowers
and small grey eternal suns, in the dreams of fallen angels
i went there

to see your small hands hold an apple against a grey wall
or at the very least become apart of it
to count rice and raindrops
to realize when you have to wake up and you cant feel anymore.
there is a long
eagle headed breeze

i went there
to the empty plastic bag souls of my friends
speechless and holding out my hands
and dying while laughing

shes the real prize here so don't get tired of standing out
cooling down here in the blank asphalt faces of god and ******* and most disasters
Apr 2014 · 443
the worst of times
Carl Hoek Apr 2014
why am i afraid?
because you're afraid
what color is the sky
where is my moon?
why does the sky bleed blue?
i have carbon filters
fresh water promises
people who don't want to die by my side
die somewhere else with jelly bean bellies
some color cast in all

frames pass by
slap,slap,slap like good dope, or going over a bridge
like birds flapping wings or visions of ancient gods

good wanderings
always wear a rubber
bad endings and hopeless angels going upward
red hair beautiful soul looking out for us chumps

the sanity is in seeing double
knowing the enemy is above you and below you
there is a massacre to be held
a genocide to be dealt

we dwarf all
we ******* common sense
we come down and cling to substance
the best won in the worst eye

now we're ******* with the oceans
its very tide
those who appreciate this are done for
those who own their emotions  do not know

i have only one gate
come on down here see what its like
clawing your way out of a bottomless pit.
yet rejoice everyfoot
you have made it somewhere where it doesnt matter
Apr 2014 · 348
this means flesh
Carl Hoek Apr 2014
snake eyes bleed through i can’t lose a ******* thing can’t speak can’t blink can’t breathe can’t sing can’t write
she stops at the edge of the hallway, she pants knowing or not knowing my name
sweat and tile and stage lights are adjacent and malcontent
horribly irritable grass and pavement
but i swear to god, gold silken hair and deep deep sapphire eyes make me forget what i really should’ve remembered

i get stanza and timing and slipping
but for god’s sake i see nothing
like kids drawing on a wall
together we dream dog dreams steak dreams camel dreams travel dreams god knows where the ghosts go

i will never live on a river too low
too flat
no violenece
cutting up rocks and such
i want to **** everything with rocks
beating it to death like a race-horse with a abounded knee
i’ll meet you there on the killing feilds

you are not so outrageous
you are all right here with me
they make our casings
grind our meat
look n’ say
“all that’s ready to dance, dance!”

they drown in it

everyone is van-gogh
some of us are picasso
whoever you want to name

I’m still here scrolling through ancient tomes
she doesn’t want to die just yet
the banshees will always screech.
not yell
can we nurture this,
can we do into our own end

so now at the brink of all existence
i need you to take me up there to show me around
i’ll drop names and cutthroats and push and pull till your pale skinned daughter ***** up the one air in the single person coffin.
Apr 2014 · 597
this is optional
Carl Hoek Apr 2014
this is the worst poem ever written
no debate
no college
no *** or love or hard drugs

i haven't been reading
scotch and water please

just roll out the list
put it on my tab
make me pay for my feelings

yeah yeah yeah
what goes up must come down
what goes in must come out
god is my devil
devil is my god
sometimes you can see it everywhere
if you blink you'll miss it

or spend it on beer after the game
how are you dearest?
what is my fate?
i see smiles
hear the desperate whimpering
of a dying human race

do nothing
let the evils of this world flow up and over you
onto the internet
like a sandy low-tide wave
over a beached whale
over shells
over dead jellyfish
cigarette buts
broken hearts
and discarded underwear

i pick one up
hold it to the light
an amateur x-ray
will you do me this one favor?
just one
my word
Feb 2014 · 500
My Father's Dream
Carl Hoek Feb 2014
I stepped outside with father's boots on, feeling the heaviness of his feet in mine.

The people in my country's soil then clawed into his boots and pulled me down until I could no longer breathe in anything but dense thick soil and earthworm particles traveling into my mouth.  

The spirits of my land traveled through me as well.  They drifted in and out of my body, trading places and laughing, laughing at me and my sad predicament.

One man stumbled towards me as if under a drunken afternoon spell.  His mouth hung open, saliva pouring down.  When he came beside me he spat into both my eyes and I screamed, falling to the grass beneath my feet.  I saw black and smelled drool and could not open my eyes.

From the corner of my eye, I saw the man from the mountain open his razored jaw and draw a poisoned needle from underneath his tongue.  I watched the needle fly from his finger through my father's ear and out the other, turning all his fluids into ones of pure jade and stone.  Then the foreigner strapped my jaded father to his back and continued to ride into forbidding wastelands.

Inside my head lived a frightened little boy who nibbled at his nails whenever a strange man glanced at him.  I could not leave that fright alone.

I left my home and family to find him, and entered the woods.  I walked deeper and deeper into the world of trees that reached the sky and damp earth that smelled of life, into a world I had always been warned not to enter.  The day I left my home, I could sense the adventure that lay ahead.  Armed with nothing but courage in my chest and good sense on my shoulders, I let my feet lead me into the great unknown.

Then, as I was about to reach the top of the mountain, a giant form appeared before me in the shape of soil.  As I came closer to it I realized that it was not a giant form but composed of hundreds of small people from the earth.  The mountain had come alive, and it did not want me to pass its presence.

As I reached the mountain's top I took my father's bones and held them to the ground.  The people of the earth relinquished their skins and flesh taken over the years of people passing over their home.  The skins attached the bones and rose, forming into the figure of a man I knew from when I was young.

My feet, wearing their newfound bottomed shoes, pressed gently across the soils as not to wake the men clamoring upwards.  But I still felt a shadow trail at my footsteps that did not feel like my own.  As I walked faster the shadow moved behind me as well, sometimes touching my bare skin with sodden ground.

Before I entered my home my brothers came out, and, thinking I was a peddler, asked how much the jade I carried was worth.

As Mother smoothed her hand over Father's forehead she looked at me reassuringly.

Everyone then stared through the guise of the false man beside me.  The person, who acted as a substitute for my accomplishments, began to bite his nails in a rampant manner.

My lying brothers cried when they were forced to walk on the ground without their leather bottomed shoes.  I watched as they, like my father had once, were swallowed by the ground.
Feb 2014 · 1.4k
Carl Hoek Feb 2014
we see the dying die. i walk down the stairs and give them nothing everyday. as i was walking down 8th ave one afternoon, i was approached by a girl who was about my age. she was screaming indiscriminately  
"please sir! can you help me?! i have no idea where i am and i don't have enough money for a bus ticket home."

i drudged a drunken look up at her
i was tired
i wanted the bus ticket home
and the beautiful new york city girl you sit next to
you know
the ones they keep up in front
but they sit in back

she told me she had gotten on the wrong bus and wound up in new york city
just by accident
that she didn't have any money
and her family was worried and needed her back home

8th and 43rd
she wined at anyone who passed
with a terrified look
as if she was to be eaten or sacrificed

her story was unconvincing
i gave her twenty dollars to get home
i truly hope she did
but in my heart of hearts i know she spent it on drugs
she was a good actress
and should get what she deserves

after i handed her the bill
she asked
" oh my god , can i give you a hug!? please?! "
she grabbed me tight and was almost crying
she was so beautiful
in trouble
as if i had given her life itself

our elders do not understand the affect of there traditions
upon the truthful way of life
so we sit here and wither
victims of just being tired
Feb 2014 · 896
the particular
Carl Hoek Feb 2014
as a human being  shoved up the earth
there is value in being worthless

as i sit now i can see the beautiful life that i could've taken
at once the mystic seas of the mind could be calmed
hair is fleece
a rotten trigger
light hitting the iris at different angles
often leading to a notice of terror
a key-note of anger
the day when turtles lie on their backs
and give up

far up the mountain
the dowry is paid
from the grooms family to the wives'
as it should be
they dance

the magic is in the look
the feel, in the scenery
hearts far out of body and out of sync
Jan 2014 · 568
Waking Down
Carl Hoek Jan 2014
Yell at the indignity of abscence and cringe in the shadows
All is lost upon the alters of discovery
We still cant feel a thing
The breaths are taken too far
We are too relaxed
Hair is too long
Eyes have too much light

The seldom perfect night is leaning towards reaccurance
And pulled over the eyes of the ones who can really see

We hallucinate and devote it to realism
We observe real truth and put it on the brain backburner
To be torn up and chewed into creative gold

28.6 years in the hole for innocence
Freedom for unending criminality
This is just throw up and dying fish

Dead air with angel wings
Blue hair and red eyes
Make everybit your suffering
Sleep when you're dead
Dream about *real life
Jan 2014 · 522
any day
Carl Hoek Jan 2014
any day now the old man will wake from his sleep and tell us all to "get the **** out!"
every hour there is atleast one second of every minute devoted entirely to hatred
no matter who you are or what you say

any day now they will set us free
and you can run through regrets
fly through missed sunny days
breathe real love
it will be heaven on earth
i promise

injustice is the theme
brutality its accord
the dead are stuck in dying
the living stuck in life

blanket wraps around nitrogen skies
something has changed
one hand always aimed at the ground
at the unforgiving dirt

it's the one liners that keep you going
any day now the surf will come in
Jan 2014 · 626
devils' fur
Carl Hoek Jan 2014
so the door slams and the windows open
air rushes in full of lustful wonder
this is singular thinking in a fog of sweet adolescence

i come from devils' fur
un-washed and smelling of sulfur
i reep your evil sews
we blink at each other

unwilling to file for glory papers
unchecked harshness towards the self
an oblivious and romantic way of being
the shadows cast behind zoo walls will follow their own mist

i speak like a broken muffler now
if i can speak at all

and the singing
only the last gulps of saltwater
churning up in the esophagus of a man lost at sea

breathing in the doom
it is only nourishment

the abyss seems at a low tide
it is passable and inviting
death is laid upon a lattice work

and they all wonder what you're really up to
Jan 2014 · 634
Carl Hoek Jan 2014
i've come to settle debts and unrequited loves upon bar stools and bloodied hatchets
up and down used condoms on faces of horror story linens
smiley faces and hearts above the grey clouds gleaming sovereignty
where the earth bathes

she weeps
" don't do that, we have a motor"
i cry and kneel down and beg forgiveness
the waves are crashing at my feet
i can see dead fish glistening just above the water
bobbing up and down
its just like good music

hot air winds of desert motion
steaming and boiling the life force
so it comes out
far out

make me spill the wine oh great god of ****
make my heart contend to the greatest spirit of dying
and wake up
still drunk
i will not spit the light in vain
only to enrich the folly that we call life
and they call entertainment

i can sit here forever
spewing out inequities of college kids "learning"
i can sit here forever
adding to the dying and suffering and coloring of something
and it shall remain
i will die where you left me
like a snake shedding its skin
Feb 2013 · 669
Oh God,
Carl Hoek Feb 2013
Into nerves
and cleaning up
ever nerves Into as beveled as the digit, then burn.
with a new youth itch
I gotta read electric view down your spoons
one eye of a cross legged serpent
come  grabbing hoping the badly or worse
got bathed, mother stuck them into two pieces,

There is a place i cannot go anymore.

A place where memory drives ten- ton trucks down the streets recklessly and with violent intent.
Run over in plain sight, bothered by smoke and cold with rain on-top.
Foggy and damp, with bright and sunny aperture.
There is a place i cannot walk anymore.
Sidewalks bent and twisted out of shape from people running away.
Streets too narrow and steep to breathe.
I cannot stand small talk,
I cannot stand memory,
I  cannot stand so i'll lay down like everyone else here.

My mouth makes sounds like a firing range.
But instead of bullets there's spit and instead of fire there's just air.
Feb 2013 · 1.3k
Carl Hoek Feb 2013
I thought I had been cast out of the mud castle kingdom. Then one day it dawned on me, 28 miles per second would be enough to break through my own roaring and escape back into
over developed proxy and reach a small awareness.
enough, i thought, to overwhelm a wall of demons.

Guarded are their black glassy gates.
Then one day it happened.
Pam, crying chemical rainbow tears while looking at all of the big red blimps.
"now clouds" she said, "clouds should all be plastic and red." And with that her ankles turned to dust and started a fury of little cyclones. Outwards , outwards.
now she cant spell forwards. she can't count backwards, and every other time she blinks her eyes the retina won't flip the image. The world goes upside down and insideout.

I can't handle it.  
They all lied to her, told her the world was just level.
I am sleep now. I'm weak. Those big long brittle spider legs tapping at the pavement. Those ******* belladonna eyes and wormwood spire. Godamned, he bent the buildings out of shape. He could sink all the gondolas in Venice.
Feb 2013 · 936
Not Tonight
Carl Hoek Feb 2013
Wearying us morning, noon, and night.  
  Torturing us
We have to go now
And as many as were the tears they shed in the wretched school,
They still conveyed to him
On examination, however, they turned out to be strictly unaware.
Only you and I,
Together on a pink cloud
Mar 2012 · 917
not like that
Carl Hoek Mar 2012
i lost my ******* keys like an *******
then i found them on my bookshelf
haphazardly laid about in swoon style
key spooning digital receptor

on the drunken prowl debts are paid
verbal inoculations
of heart
a boll weevil of the mind

such thoughts will follow
without content

clouds in the nitrogen reflective sky
bite marks and bruises on my skin
both condensed by mystical thought
as only a proven theorist could show

the insanity of logic
is our proof of existence

therefore hallucinating  long red hairs
the keyboard that is made apparent by the inner hellfire
the so called tortured soul
and the inadequacy of all human comprehension

we can bring an end to the idea of symbolism
and resort to the purest form of command
relinquish all hope in control

jump from roof to roof
off a moving train

escape from that which draws you to your birthplace
end the dying shells
get off the island
stay with your sickness

atleast it's trying to leave you
Mar 2012 · 604
sins of the back
Carl Hoek Mar 2012
for as long as i live, i promise to look down the holes i find
promise to look into absolute uncertainty, and not to give a **** about it
ill look at the cellular device and face my rejection.

how many more words can i possibly make use of?
i'm out of wine
i'm out of thoughts
for the devil has pre-empted them

destroy the scent of the flesh
it will end up there at some point eventually
the people who are really capable of love will shine through
cast great lines across the sky
across the ocean
across eyes and sand
lapping waves
fruiting dirt

if i don't miss that now i won't ever
rhythm rhythm rhythm
sword sword sword

now its all a mess again
start over tomorrow
Mar 2012 · 870
as if it counts
Carl Hoek Mar 2012
This one ripped a hole in space-time, and she took everyone she knew with her. they could watch her roll down a hill like a seven year old, and laugh. as if to say cognitive dissonance is natural. after a certain age, who can tell where hypnosis and knowing are different? the border wall between pain and joy is obliterated by the act of experience. this realization enacts itself as an addition to a conscious bias, in which we all take pride.

        To say that you know beauty, is to say that you know the feelings of a brick wall. that is where the claws come in. they are ripping away at your loose lipped torso, and lusting over every solitary millisecond. like any good christian, muslim, jew, buddhist, agnostic, we wonder what these little fragments are.

    Will this make me feel any better, any worse? if pouring your heart out was the name of the game, the suicides would be pope. so we must sit around. harness anger and use it to observe the things that oppose it. such as instant love, or hate. such as silhouetted and budding trees against a dark blue sky. such as died hair in the bright winter sun, the color of wine and crushed pills.

    Bladder as a brewing storm, coughing into the wind.i see you as all existence sees me. as if a sore shoulder passes with an awkward twist. like a poked out eyeball at the scene of a homicide. every single color. the intelligent head of every lost spectrum. death of the soul. birth of sight.

at last may my head rest.
thank you for all of this
my dear, beloved empty skull in the sky
thank you for half a spinal chord
and for the power to rip it out
Feb 2012 · 997
Button Sleeve
Carl Hoek Feb 2012
You are stealing from me
those winks can only yell so loudly
you are still a cold tint of buried

at least, you're better than punching plastic.
You're less than a dying digit
More than a love
Above all eyesight

sometimes my head can't turn up
but when it does

i'll do anything to keep it there
"written as is Live".
Sep 2010 · 4.0k
Carl Hoek Sep 2010
my thoughts a swirling grave
orange tasting pavement
mint gum in my pocket
a small ill defined girl swung her head but
kept her drink level
it did not spill
there was a felon who was proud
and a blue that was fallen
the driest eyes
in a desert of music
people swaying and reaching out
but as outmatched as ivy
and skin
to the torrent of clouds
orange tasting light
burnt skin
burnt paper
orange tasting prayers
Copyright Carl Hoek. 2010
From The novel "*****"
Jul 2010 · 643
Carl Hoek Jul 2010
some like  a silk screen
never thought about  one off hitch
someone must be grateful or kind
there is no voice quite like that here
oh and the shadows too
say nothing at all
i spit and wipe
today is so much waiting
frame then frame then back two frames
tremolo, flutter, dip dip like a card dropped from the roof
i never liked the silk screen
it came from a worm
and an eye
it's too small
some like anxiety
things like that are dark for a reason
there is not much to see
and what there is to see is much too small
i can see you topple or sway
it is a good thing now more than ever
carl hoek now and forever
Jul 2010 · 708
Tonite at the Bar
Carl Hoek Jul 2010
This old man in a bar
told jokes and reveled in reflections of all his youthful moments
there were three nuns
the last of which wound up spread out
it was great fun
in between pity laughs were shocking laughs
the old man mumbled
but i could hear him speaking from behind his curtain
of shimmering inebriation
i answered questions
and his worn off ear made the answers
Paul and Chan
they were young enough to learn what he had to teach about his great life
it was a great life
three sparkles in his eye lead to a decrescendo
that was a hint to look left and up
for life or the light that gilded like it
this old man made his friends
tipped well
had a son who just followed and laughed
and old alchy
he shook my hand in an old fashioned way
so very sincere
have a good life
so i will
Carl Hoek...******
Jul 2010 · 1.2k
Carl Hoek Jul 2010
i have never made love
i like to **** and watch the gears move
feeling your organs being pushed in and out
you must be too skinny
a two inch worm could make your skin crawl
shut up, shut the **** up
this has nothing to do with names
this has nothing to do with what's behind your face
i just want to watch the gears move
these parts function
with an undeniable force
like an atom bomb
i ****** for days
now it smells awful
like a trap for all the rotting emotion
blankets the air
and skin
and cloth
with the smell of a stagnant
sweaty hate
******* is an act of violence
but it is not a crime
intention determines that appearance
with nothing but good intentions
for every woman on this earth
they are all beautiful and deadly
but making love is a crime against god
because he keeps it for himself
deals with it only when he has to
and i thank him for that
Carl Hoek
Jul 2010 · 728
all your thoughts
Carl Hoek Jul 2010
aspired to build a bridge and tear it down
but you watch every bolt go in
every peice of steel lay down
every cable contorted toward a heaven
called an apex of pressure and tension
you made the plans with flashes of light in your brain
the idea
from thought
to word
to mouth
to word
to mouth
an engineer wrote it down
and it has manifested from picture
to impact
so you watch the people walk over it
and you tear it down
waking up the steel
and making new thoughts
Carl Hoek
Jul 2010 · 505
Blue Hour
Carl Hoek Jul 2010
You can feel a sight
at eight thirty on a summer night
air turns a deep blue
and it stays completely still until you brush it aside
air reflects blue and shoots it out
and now everything is blue
goodbye sun
hello black felt sky
your glimmer is showing
but only in some spots
someone bigger than you and i poked some holes
through a backlit scrap
of undeveloped film
to force the light and the heat through
but that's gone
as the heat leaves
the dark slowly breathes
the air turns blue
for twenty minutes
everything becomes diverse in uniform
you can lay your head between the dirt and the air
hear blue, feel blue.
and then it goes away
Carl Hoek
May 2010 · 797
Trangession Taught
Carl Hoek May 2010
blood is blue and it ***** precaution
it ***** you with a rock
you will meet the wind and shake with the earth
your education
is a waste of time
eyes burnt open , your blood is red
your skull is dry
running for days and misinterpreted
i yearn for the true meaning of these
useless lines, because they will die in some digital inferno
when the world comes crashing down
May 2010 · 597
eye shade looks like new
Carl Hoek May 2010
your eye shade looks like new
it has been three days since you've bathed
you've been crying
but your eyes look like glass
i cannot count the drops of heart in them
you sit, and smoke, like a thousand poems have said
wrong eyes through the blue cloud
and your glass, rolls on the floor
but i cannot count the fractures
i tried to count the stars
there were far too many
so i gave up
and watched my glowing steps
fade back into wet sand
but now i picture you
and your eye shade is brand new
From: Improvised (Diluted) Poems Volume 1, copyright Carl Hoek 2010
May 2010 · 760
And Moth, And Gold
Carl Hoek May 2010
The moth is drawn to gold,
And in it, seizes terror
Sees heaven,
Obelisk in light
The sharpened cold dirt,
Like life must oblige
Its flipped projection
It senses the wave reflection
And covers itself in gold
copyright 2010 Carl Hoek
Mar 2010 · 835
Rip It
Carl Hoek Mar 2010
Tear it to shreds little man,
This is all you have left to do.
All other empathic direction taken and blinded like lockjaw,
taken and railed into The rusted side of a wall radiator.
Of course the floors creek,
Of course the walls tear up like paper
Nerves, exploding,to the eye to eye feeling,
The missing aperture,
Four tracks laid down have grown into nails by a stretch of ability;
And a second sun in glasses to tie it all up in.
If you couldn't breathe you would flail around just the same way.
Degrade truth
as all hope-full people should do.
copyright 2010, Carl Hoek
Mar 2010 · 572
Over Your Head
Carl Hoek Mar 2010
In thought you can lift the poor cheated girl above your head,
The flower strains toward your grey iris and it implies a silhouette
Of blue wayward passion,
Of the luke warm pool of it in you,
Your reflection is broken as it has ever been,
But implies the existence of its once intact face
The feeling of your taught whimper gone limp
As the very blink of feeling out from last breath
Has no end, has no faith, as light is only a blanket
And shadow its shivering body,
In finding strength to hold you up
I find the talent to beat you down
And afterwords we will continue,
To tear our lungs apart.
copyright 2010, Carl Hoek
Mar 2010 · 823
Its like, It's like
Carl Hoek Mar 2010
You can't say
You won't talk or have to
There is nothing to say
Like a chord dissociative
Or like a re-breathe
Saying alot
The joke of misinterpretation
Like an algae pond
Or of the stagnant canal
In which parasite life laughs
Homemade masks are in a parallel
It's like shingles escaping the roof in a storm
And it vibrates from the sky to your stomach
It's like you don't want to say,
When you don't have to
Copyright 2010, Carl Hoek
Mar 2010 · 640
Red Cloud
Carl Hoek Mar 2010
A red cloud
Blew a gasket
Through the wall
Hot steam
Cleansed furniture, floors
But the freeze outside
Made the windows
Constrict and shatter
And a red cloud was empty
Another is full
They drift
Through peaks
And disperse
To the ground
In pieces
Copyright 2010, Carl Hoek

— The End —