"negativa" poems
There's no formula.
Why would there be a formula,
Why muddle it up with signs and
Figures and giving and taking
When words do enough to draw a
Coroner's bag over it?
All you can know is the beautiful
Tightening of the Devil's hand on your soul,
Which he has now turned into a stress ball
With a witty or motivational saying on it.
Some are smiley faces,
But he crushes them all the same.
Too bad Libra isn't there to balance you out,
Sort out the Good and the Evil,
Your God and your Devil.
Because really, we ride on a line
Some would call razor sharp.
The most difficult task throughout our lives
Is, undeniably, the act of balancing.
Imagine this:
We are all the King's Fools,
We sit in the King's castle
In the Grand Hall
With wooden tables
And beautiful banners to represent
Who discovered and exploited
And conquered a certain piece of land,
And a certain part of the population,
And a certain percentage of humanity.
And these banners are red and gold,
Red for Passion,
Gold for Obsession.
And the walls are ******
Breaking themselves apart
Like hourglass's employed grains of sand.
We all balance in this hall
On ridiculously tall unicycles,
So tall that the fruit and assorted
Desserts we are balancing on our clown's
Top hats on our sweating heads
Brush against the lion's tail on the first banner,
The boar's tusks on the second,
And sometimes the rose's bowing stem.
We do this all our lives
While the nobility,
Or the cosmos,
Or God and the Devil,
Or Good and Evil,
Sit and watch, laughing and throwing themselves at us
For us to catch and juggle whenever they please.
Feb 28, 2011
Feb 28, 2011 at 11:25 PM UTC
You moved the cakes
from the rack
and put them on
the pallet carefully
so they wouldn't fall,
you gazed at the metal
note board where
the cake orders were
20 cupcakes you read
and moved on to
where the cupcakes
were stacked,
Natanya the night before
stretched out on the bed
arms spread wide
legs likewise
you **********
studying her fruits,
Socrates est negativa
you had read
in some book
before you climbed
the stairs to bed
questo non è mondo reale
the Italian guy had said,
you handed down the cupcakes
and placed them
on the pallet carefully
against the side next
to the ginger cakes,
Natanya watched
as you undressed
muttering about
this or that warm up game
you undressed
stood there waiting
your piece proud,
nessun altro mondo
the other Italian guy said
in the book you read,
you moved the pallet
on to the next cake section
and studied the list
40 Sandwich cakes
you handled the cakes
in between your hands
and on to the pallet
someone had inked
Led Zeppelin rock
on the pallet back,
Natanya moved
to the side of the bed
as you sat there games?
She said
if you want
you said
and she moved over you
and mouthed you,
questo è il mondo reale
the Italian replied
and you closed the book
and walked the stairs,
the list of cakes
was completed
and you pushed the pallet
to the checkers
who checked the cakes
with the list,
you mused I couldn't do
that brain deadening job
unless ******
Dec 14, 2016
Dec 14, 2016 at 8:07 AM UTC