"evaporations" poems
Life, vastly cryptic, within, gradually,
as drips on glass, descends,
towards gravity, till fate.
Vibrations, redundant swings,
and evaporations.
We live, pause, breathe,
we expire. That’s all.
And more than enough.
May 5, 2012
May 5, 2012 at 4:37 PM UTC
From
the veil of
trees, I can
peer into
your window,
and count
the family,
imagine them
gone to bed,
dreaming of blue,
"underwater, unaware."
Those summer
evaporations tickle
my skin,
bring on such
an observational
itch:
how you,
freshly out
of the pool,
bloomed
brightly on
Betamax.
Dec 20, 2020
Dec 20, 2020 at 10:42 AM UTC
She put a bullet in my head
Still she hated my ghost
So she filled her guitar with dynamite
Then strapped it to my host
Thinking no one would come
To pick up my pieces
And she was right
Until I had an impulse to sing
I sung her song against her with glee
And in her cold heart
She knew she was a lover
But she was no dancer
So she turned our battle
Into the biggest school-charade
"Barons of suburbia
Cast your votes
Who likes who better?"
Till I was laughed off the stage
Started to sink to her level
Even without a body
I started to sink to her level
Just another pale face
With unfinished business
It's the poison she serves
It spreads thin like butter
On all you once thought beloved
Till it rises like black sea-foam on the bog
And as I go through my
Daily evaporations
I often wonder where she'd be
Without all her little helpers
Her elves and her salesmen
And even those who pull her strings
Did dear daddy pull her strings
Till live and let live
Became live and let not?
She on the inside of out
I on the outside of in
You think they'd be one and the same
But they're not
She was begotten
But she was forgotten
So she turned to the only trade left
Operating on deceit
************ to the beat
Of second-hand news
She can't create
So she manipulates
Turning the decay of others
Into an art form for her eyes
But she could never hold a candle
In my darkness
And I'll never tremble at her words
They're adjectives, not verbs
And she may set my robes to shame
With the flame of her armor
But she'll never sit under the shade
Of the tree that doesn't rot
Cause I may die a little death each day
But you can't **** the same thing twice
One victory is all you need, says she
But will I see her in another life?
Nov 26, 2011
Nov 26, 2011 at 1:33 AM UTC
Hand over hand, day climbed into night -
our noses bloodied -
our eyes bright with the glare
of neon signs.
Empty laughter escapes from the lips
of a woman, like little
drips
from a gutter.
Gutter hands, gutter voices. Is this
our Renaissance,
sealed with a kiss?
On and on the world turns,
and in her hand a cigarette burns.
Breathing in humidity and
a thousand evaporations:
alcohol and enmity
and sensual sidelong glances.
“I had the taste of blood and chocolate in my mouth, the one as hateful as the other.”
Sep 21, 2011
Sep 21, 2011 at 5:08 AM UTC
Don’t spend too much time with clouds
They are merely evaporations
And cannot be trusted with your life
They may dance and play
In the sky all day and resemble many things
But just because you see a cloud
That makes you shout out loud
It is not your prophecy
Be skeptical of those who paint the sky
With every imaginable pattern as they fly
For they know not what they are doing
As they glide from one horizon to the next
What begins as a rocket ship
Could soon become a dinosaur that then
Might release its weight to begin again
To evaporate and create something
Or nothing to which you can relate!
Jul 13, 2014
Jul 13, 2014 at 9:58 PM UTC