Have fun, hard, and rocky.
Have fun tricky.
Have fun high above.
A Show of Anger
We fight because there’s nothing there.
If we win, we fight some more...
when hope is gone, then we relent.
Old Hubbard saw her cupboard bare,
her poor dog wondered why she looked.
We fight because there's nothing there.
They toss and turn, and then repent
while ashes sink into the sea...
when hope is gone, then we relent.
It's just a mirror, though they stare
and cast their glances, take a look...
we fight because there's nothing there.
Whether or not it's our intent
to finish right, we finish wrong.
When hope is gone, then we relent.
Like Lancelot and dragon's lair,
avenging angels heaven-sent,
we fight because there's nothing there,
when hope is gone then we relent.
An Able Slap
Down with
the long poison
down with
the long ladder down
there is a hangman's noose
for every babe
that's learned to walk
there is a cuss for every blessing
sure enough, there is a way
to tear a heart of stone
stony stars and stony scars
it does not hurt at all
eat the night as black as coal
eat the dirt and eat the dung
foul dinner, and what of it?
she is a diet of dives
I've nothing to offer
that hasn't already been writ
I've nothing to throw out
that hasn't already been stolen from me
Swear
Swear to it
Say it
over and over
Say it again
Make sure
they understand you
Make sure
they believe
Back it up
with facts
Support it
with logic
Get angry
Throw a tantrum
Make a fist
and shake it at them
Say it firmly
Put your foot down
Belittle them
Make them feel guilty
Swear to it again
Swear to God
Guess what?
You're lying.
Turn
Unbearable sculptures rumble and groan
within the sweet fury of perception
where the known and unknown collide
on the torrents of the soul.
Brush the spiderwebs from your face...
roll the stone, pay attention.
Peace has disappeared into the night;
calm vanished in the gathering storm
No one is responsible
and what we held as obligation
can never be as such...
show me those hard links again, and their insinuations
The figures of my heart
cannot spell an answer
when asked for the reason
why I will not live demands
Sit!
Sit!, boy
Sit, now!
Sit, down!
Sit very still
and don't say a word
and whatever you do
don't you dare bark
Good dog
Very good dog
Bark!
Wag your tail!
Good boy
Very good
Sit and fetch!
Sit and fetch, boy!
Fetch, boy!
Fetch!
Sit!
Good boy!
Very, very good
Now if you sit and fetch
at the very same time
I'll give you a bone
Try, boy!
You can try!
Now, boy
Go ahead
Try, boy
Do it.
Jostle Town
Windowpane
Hurricane
Cost a lot
Batter bought
Dope a low
Undertow
You and
You, too
Paper chase
Funny face
Skinny rope
Antelope
Choo-choo train
Aeroplane
Once, that'll do
Title fight
Every night
Upper tier
Atmosphere
Just a dime
What a time
Now we are through
Old Records
Laughter rang out in the hallowed halls of hell
and for a moment it seemed like heaven
to the devil...
he turned on his heel
and quickly lost his balance
and with a splash
he fell into a lake of fire and brimstone.
A few of his minions laughed
as they are prone to do
when seeing a sorrowful
twist of fate,
and putting a quarter in the jukebox,
carefully chose three songs.
This was an old jukebox
and you could get three songs for a quarter,
though not as old
as hell itself.
The devil was angry
so he decided to torment his minions
as he was prone to do
and put another quarter in the jukebox,
and carefully chose three songs.
The first three songs played,
but then
played over again
and the devil
for once in his life
cried salty tears...
Of the Wrongness
Had you but eyes to see
the wasteland of his heart
you wold know why their crumbling ideals
cannot withstand the tide
As he works his corruption
you will see that your immunity
resides only in your respect for wisdom...
surrender that and foulness creeps in
When the snake is crowned king
all hearts will be persuaded
by the contemporary logic;
by the passion of the thorn
As all doors are shut, and locked
to the 'plaint of the knowing sage,
in the fire we throw our catch
and no one tastes the sweet, salty sea
Dark Red Wine
Unbuckle your tricks slyly, lecher
Drink till toppling
Old broom lies covered with dust
Elicit winks, sparrow tattles, night's fingers
Chocolate winks and tender heart of rose
all undone and wind carries spoor
to my rustling night
Stroke silken feathers and marry the dusk to the moon
Reflected moonlight awakens minks
we told yesterday
Tender furies and thick-headed passions
strike a deal with Noah
Dark red wine stares out of captive
at exotic breeds
of sun-stricken goldfishes
Spill the rest of secret potion
that conjures the sweet pealing
Moisten the soil
There is a piper in my soul
playing sweet songs of peppering
Sole Survivor
Sweet, sweet, ethics
keeping us adrift
in a desert
made for lizards and snakes
Hot, sweet reason
bouncing like a kitten
with a ball of yarn,
swallowing the worm
Tired, old
pragmatism
lisping its grievances
with the complaints dept.
as if we had eyes
Sleepy, yawning idealism
drinking morning coffee
falling asleep in his chair
dancing into the sunset
High, bloodied crosses
Lowdown dirty kings
Gleeful, punch drunk bums
Sad, puzzled clowns
Go
"I have to leave."
"Why?"
"I have to leave, I have to go."
"Where are you going?"
"Someplace you'll never imagine."
"What?...so you're leaving?"
"I have to go, I can't stay."
"Why (underline why) do you have to go?"
"I can't explain, I can't stay here."
"Tell me why?" (underline why)
"I can't tell you, I can't explain."
(three untitled poems)
Promises last until they're broken,
but lies just last until they fade.
Secrets last until they're spoken,
the high trump lasts until it's played.
Save your heart for a gentle soul,
though you're a long time waiting
and hungry with love...
there may be promise
in a promise unmet,
and there may be dreams
in a bed unmade.
Yours is a well kept secret, my friend,
and no friend will every know better than me
the sleep you stole from a fragile heart
who still believes what you whisper, yet...
Once Upon a Wish
In her eyes I see the spark
of a wish held close for years;
years alone, spent
trying to climb from the shadows...
and did I know her heart?
Let the peacock strut,
let the salmon swim upstream to spawn,
let the hawk dive at prey
far below in the grasses,
but let me draw water
from the deepest well
to slake my desperate thirst.
I cannot hear the deaf man,
and I cannot see the blind man,
but I can feel her need
because I am in need as well;
before the first reaches of dawn
in what is still a shuttered moon.
Lover
I whisper words
to your aching heart...
I feed the doves
on your window's branch...
I wind the clock
that had counted
your minutes down...
I only know your sparkle there,
and not your gray-eyed hag
who hides away your pennies, deep...
I count each straw
on my sweeping broom
until the day
that you should come back home...
I know your shyest, sweetest smile...
It was me who lit the candle
burning still
inside the window, warm...
me who wondered
where you were at
on some dark
and cold October night...
It was me
you thought might wish
for his first kiss in your arms...
In Hours or Years
I swore I saw her, high above the trees
and weave these words by incandescent light
in my balloon I chase the summer breeze
On my loom I threaded colors, bright
and though I'm blind, I hope that she too, sees
in my balloon I chase the summer breeze
Before she learns of my intrepid night
which cannot earn the work of honeybees
I swore I saw her high above the trees
The womb of lies is closed to truth, contrite
delerium seeks gods it cannot please...
in my balloon I chase the summer breeze
Gravity, a friend to dazzling height
but enemy to saints upon their knees;
I swore I saw her high above the trees
For love I risk the paint of winter's bite
and though I tell myself the chance is slight
I swore I saw her, high above the trees;
in my balloon I chase the summer breeze
(untitled)
The pen scratches paper
blackly with its lines
smearing its words, curses
against blankness
and against the screech of silence...
the lines are a jail
for the dirty prisoners
that are the vows of love
that love poems make
in answer to frozen locks...
bitter ink spills out
in a dark frenzy of blots
staining more than revealing
the truth of the pain
that clutches at the letters...
Grade
Needs work, D-
You need to study your spelling book
and work on your compound sentences.
Next time, concentrate more on
correct grammar, and don't try to
put so many ideas in one sentence.
Your are a good student,
and I hate to see such poor work from you
when I know you can do better.
On our next assignment,
I expect to see you
using better spelling. (use the dictionary!)
and fewer scratch-outs and mistakes.
You can write me
a five paragraph essay
for extra-credit by Monday
if you want to raise your grade.
If you get stuck anywhere
ask for help
from me or from your parents.
The Tryst
Lemon yellow sunlight butters her figure
a quiet anomaly
She is listening for a footstep
bells adorn her fingers and toes
He will know
if I touch her
from the darkness of the shadow's juncture
we retrieve our ambitions
brightly colored silken scarves
obscure all permission
Dance with knobby branches
friendly and familiar
We lingered long
Sweet kisses
the tender from the bitter
making up dialogue
to fit between the lovemaking
A luxurious bath
slippery charms
It is just as innocent
as the caution is sly
Upon tender parting
paint a picture of the sky
Though we tried eternal
we succeeded transitionally
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