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Jan 2014 searching

His Holiness the Abbot

Jan 2014 searching

Yosa Buson

His Holiness the Abbot

His Holiness the Abbot
is *******
in the withered fields.

Jan 2014 searching

Happy New Year!

Jan 2014 searching

JDK

Happy New Year!

"Well hey there! How was your New Year's?"
Well, I sang a song and made a toast
To the fire in our hearts
I apologized to the host
For drinking and driving the last time I'd left
When I'm drunk I like to think that I know better than the best

I lit off fireworks with a pretty girl
We listened to James Brown while gunpowder spiders lit up the world
We took alot of shots
And sat by the fire
We talked of this, that, and the other

Later on I found my friend with his head in his hands
Crouched up against his car; crying over the dead
Lamenting that they couldn't be here for this event
And I cried a little too, because that kind of thing messes with my head

My childhood friend was also there
He had driven in from out-of-town
He was tripping on acid, and had me pinned to the ground
In an insane attempt to give me some sort of comfort
I finally got him off me with an effective headbutt

Then I ran down the street
While yelling, "I HATE EVERYTHING!"
Then slowed down to a walk after I'd gotten far enough
Smoked a cigarette and contemplated the true nature of love

So when you ask me that seemingly innocuous question
"Hey, how was your New Years? Did anything happen?"
All I can say is,
"Well, ha! It was definitely something!"

Jan 2014 searching

i finally wrote a poem that isn't about the fucking weather

Jan 2014 searching

featherfingers

i finally wrote a poem that isn't about the ******* weather

We don't fall
like rain
or like snow
or like New Year's Eve confetti
in sweeping graceful arcs;
we fall like atom bombs.

We fall like atom bombs,
ignorantly whistling our way to the ground.
We fall like a firestorm
scorching Dresden to smoldering ruin.
We fall like night--
completely,
unforgivingly,
thickly,
coldly.

We fall like angels
from twelve stories high,
singing love songs to concrete
to drown out the sirens.
We fall like pennies
from the Empire State,
flung from the observation deck--
carelessly,
mercilessly.

*Maybe falling makes us mighty,
but we're falling just the same.

Jan 2014 searching

Happy X-mas (War is Over)

Jan 2014 searching

featherfingers

Happy X-mas (War is Over)

So this is Christmas
and what have you done?

John purrs the question
through tiny
crackling speakers
begging responsibility
from the irresponsible at best,
begging for peace
and a season of rest.

I lost a war, John;

I tripped on hope and arrogance
and earned forty six new badges
of valor;
I fell from the rafters of a fantasy bridge
to the cold reality beneath
and I broke bones--
ribs and femurs,
radii and hum'rouses.

I have met Marc Antonys and Brutuses,
Pagliachis and Heathcliffs,
and met them in myself.
I have sobbed into futons
ripe with nachos and socks
and I curled in another's arms
wishing they were yours.

I have loved and lost
and saw God in a graveyard;
come down from dopamine dreams
to black widows in my sheets.
I have tried and failed and given up,
found the one mistake
I'll always make
and the one perfume I'll always hate.

I lost a war
I never had the guts to fight.
So this is Christmas, John,
and I'm still a mess.

Jan 2014 searching

Ghosts in the Snow

Jan 2014 searching

featherfingers

Ghosts in the Snow

Waltzing syllables cast shadows from your closet
and slowly bruise your casual smiles.
“Can you still feel my breath
warm on your skin, the weight
of my head on your chest?”
Rebuild your walls in tribute.
Lock her away deep within.

You left here this morning with a carry-on
just to find three bags checked in your name.

Someday, your luggage will know continents,
leaving trails of letters lost,
love songs and photographs,
and the distant echoes of softening tears.
Will you have loved these places
like she did, my pining nestling?
Your feathers molt in the shadows of sorrowful beauty
but waxen wings only melt in the sun.

You drag your suitcases behind you
bogged down in the billows of dust.

Luggage tags with scattered dates crumble loneliness
into your sheets; your smiles come slower;
your tendons ache in their restless sleeps.
The years of compulsive movement,
the calloused fingers fumbling latches in the dark,
have left you chasing unexplainable ghosts.
Nuzzling voices draw close in your agony alone,
whispering from trail-beaten zippers barely
closed and barely clinging to overtired carpet bags.

You have carried her voice in your suitcase always
knowing her weight would seep into your bones.

old, but feeling especially relevant tonight.

Jan 2014 searching

In and Out, In and Out.

Jan 2014 searching

Celeste Nicole Cook

In and Out, In and Out.

Like a synchronized dance,
You dance in and out,
You're dancing through my mind,
In and out.
Your eyes flash through my mind,
Smiling, caressing, daring,
With a hint of mystery.
They reveal an emotion I dare not name.
Whether its love or hate,
I dare not decipher.
I dare not, in case I'm wrong.
In and out you spin,
In and out.
Your laughter is what I hear,
Your voice is what I feel,
And your smile is what I see.
One, two, three,
One, two, three,
In and out.

Jan 2014 searching

Not Another Love Poem

Jan 2014 searching

JDK

Not Another Love Poem

My love for you is quite substantial
Just enough to get us by
When I'm with you, I never panic
My stomach knows no butterflies

My feelings for you are adequate
I kiss you like I do my mother
Politely, cordially, out of duty
Plainly and unpassionate

There are no ups and downs
No disbelief at what I've found
Our love is completely logical
Solid, steady, and sound

My love is understandable
Laid out, and well defined
My love is clearly tangible
No need for even trying

My want for you is sustainable
And well under control
My desire is easily satiable
Like a dead tree that no longer grows

I'll love you this way until I die
Or until the day you leave
And on that day, I will not cry
Nor shall I ever grieve

Because this kind of love is lacking passion
And without true belief
It's the kind of love you're better off without
It will never satisfy your needs

You're doing it all wrong

Jan 2014 searching

Fate of the Martyr

Jan 2014 searching

JDK

Fate of the Martyr

"If you're the least bit sensitive, this world will eat you alive."
Is it any wonder then that so many of us want to die?
But I gave up a long time ago on suicide
Such an ignoble way to say goodbye

So if I must go, I want to be beaten by some ******* while defending a woman's honor
Shot by an oppressive father for attempting to liberate his daughter
Gunned down by the government for standing up for the rights of another
I guess you could say,
I have dreams of becoming a martyr

"Only the good die young"
Only through self-sacrifice can you become
Deeply ingrained in humanities' collective brain
I want to make a difference
Before I grow old and insane

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
Lincoln
JFK
Jesus Christ
Gandhi
Joan of Arc
Tecumseh
And then there's Socrates

Somebody help me, help me please
I want so badly to die for the sake of a belief
But it's all so ****** up now
Twisted and torn
Sometimes I wish that I was never born

And there have been others who felt the same way
Vincent Van Gogh
Rothko
And Hemingway

I know it's not fair of me to say
They all lead lives wrought with such pain

Like Bradley Nowell
And Kurt Cobain
Some saw it coming
Like Mark Twain

Freedom really is a double-edged sword
After Jack Parsons blew up he left us his words
His mom OD'd shortly after having heard
Greatness can only last so long in this world

And what of Albert Camus?
Was it really unplanned?
And that poor old Nietzsche
Came so unglued at the end

And fate is really something
How can we comprehend
Some lives are surely doomed
From the moment they begin

Dropping names. Freddie Mercury ought to be in there somewhere.

Jan 2014 searching

I Can Tell That We Are Gonna Be Friends

Jan 2014 searching

JDK

I Can Tell That We Are Gonna Be Friends

Hey girl, don't get me wrong
I just think that we could be friends
It'd be nice to have a confidant again
Instead of telling strangers all of my sins
I'm ready for a new life
Just waiting to begin

I know you may find me a bit intense
Or maybe you think that I make no sense
And I'm not sure what I like about you
Your humor
Your wit
Your innocence?

Be that what it may
And me being what I am
I still want to be your friend
Do you think we can?

Check Yes or No in one of the boxes below