david badgerow

david badgerow Dec 2011

silence is the enemy of art
to communicate
the greatest art
suggests dissolution

the music
the eloquence of omission
the sudden vertiginous stop
the space between souls
the final paragraph recalls
the graves

that happened to me
a black hole
dense with rejected possibilities

david badgerow Dec 2011

i can speak in colors

i drank one
whole river of bourbon on
this very night

i smoked two
and a half butterflies
and now i can speak in colors

i took three hits off
this cloudy chick
and now i can sing like a sparrow

i snorted four
lines of sunshine
and now i can pull an all-nighter

i freebased five
pearls from the ocean
and now i can smile much brighter

i injected six
fireflies into my arm
this very night

i took seven
dandelions, and mixed them in a bowl
and now i can tell you all
the secrets of my soul

i swallowed eight
droplets of Hoffman's best blend
and now i can tell you
how this world will end

i ****** nine
of nature's best nymphs
on this very night

i infused ten
different sunsets
and now i can tell you the time

david badgerow Dec 2011

Rules (16 Word Poem)

We drink only
for
twists of
dripping hot

time.

We do not know
all the rules.

david badgerow Dec 2011

on a sidewalk

This sentence is
bits and pieces;
empty manilla folder
postage stamp, but no letter;
a phrase would write of paradise.
feeling
will pass
like every other phase
the dancer
the central movement of the torso
the comportment of arms
a leap,
a winged seed.

So
before
the end,
shout down a street
the consonants will moan
at the ultimate release of meaning.

david badgerow Dec 2011

books

the love
forms
around
our brains
the ideal
person
would seem made of books,
is a mind,
a bad habit,
a heart,
will one day
enforce and
maintain
purity
true dominion;
who
will dream
of many books
and
make discoveries
we
include one
mindless
hand;
myths have less power over our souls now.

david badgerow Dec 2011

words found on paper

i
will find you
overdressed

i
was up and
i looked out
the window

i
imagined
i knew no one
in
the echo

the noise
opened
its grimy,
dark quarters

then
a break,
a mere stopover

i can remember what we did on each and every one of those fifteen days and nights.

david badgerow Dec 2011

dig to discover truth

i'll use this shovel
to find the truth
i will bring the story out of the ground
i'm busy chasing circular thoughts
working long hours
but sleeping, i'm not
television and prescription pills
by the poison in this bottle my
blues will surely be killed
once it's gone
pour me another round
i'll get up and come back to life
i will scatter my notebooks
across your shadowy lawn
we can read and breathe and burn them
long into the dawn
i will never believe what someone else
tells me is true

except you.