Oh to work without escaping into brilliant light, forgiven by a candle's wick. Oh to treat afternoons like stark white gloomy skies are nothing but a shield for the sunshine. I cover my eyes. Laugh like you were born smiling, try to reach God with every grin, with your cheeks tucked in. With your railroad … Continue reading Nature’s Slow Resolve
Have a way with wonder and go grazing past the fields of green. They are vast and without scope, you said, and they're nothing if not lost to the past. Funny how the tinkered tailored soldiers spied. Wouldn't you think the aim would be to stay as far away from danger as you can? I … Continue reading But Not All Too Real
Inspire me Desire me Require all my love I'll do it purposefully Undoubtedly Like a moth to the sun Before the world lit up like madness To a fantasy clutched like teddy bears Oh teddy boys who party on In working class duds Boots of phony leather Worn and weathered Like the lines on their … Continue reading My Oh My, This Place
There is an indecisive man of goodness who dances on the lawn. High above his standing person is the kingdom of God. Yet the doctor is puzzled and the leaders subsist on creating danger in the heavens with a rod or a fist or a submachine gun, or riot gear and tear gas to attack … Continue reading Nevertheless
Just a little better now. Just a little simpler, a little more meaningful. It’s that it almost didn’t happen. It’s that we were almost left alone to be shivered by the lightning strikes, to be arranged into the clouds. Thunder. Thunder. Thunder.
Distract no differences regarding indolence of seated sins. Beget no patient sky's inception on a whirlwind. The mountains call to me and I've not seen them in some years, you see. I'm just a passing gaze upon a side street. No shivering deception casts a net. A package was delivered but it didn't arrive. Just … Continue reading The Perfect Guide To Rattled Swords
What was once disregarded as trivial is now touched by the hand of a serial criminal lost amidst side streets trembling. It is no more a canyon of dreams than a patchwork of a cavalry, tepid tried true. And what portions of privacy can be pleasing to the aristocracy? I wonder. Still there is nothing … Continue reading They Don’t Strive For Sainthood
From the foundation on up to the rooftops, my dear, we are rattled with private planes and suits on. Where will a monument capture the wild when insanity brims from a heart racing? It is played, undone like an eagle identity shouldered. No contempt for the wind. Feel it play 'round your skin. Feel it … Continue reading Even in Darkness
What follows was written in chunks from beginning to end one morning yesterday. The melody followed, and my notes are included here. Song to come shortly. Thoughts in the Belfry part one Oh to con society and figure on sleep. Oh to be a weary man who can't very well see what is rush houred … Continue reading Thoughts In the Belfry (a folk song)
To ease, there is a stepping stone forgotten of a sergeant's skeptics, sinister on ice. My ears belie to notice sticks and stones beneath my feet-- a distance courting high regard to peasants. We lower middle class. We homes with rooftops. We internet and phones. We detached proletariat all sent off alone to be the … Continue reading And To Sleep
Congress Reaches $2 Trillion Deal Congress reached a deal! I’ve been reading the news compulsively and this morning I woke up and did the same while drinking my coffee and smoking my cigarettes coughing and hoping it isn’t the literal plague how strange all of this is how devastating as the sun hides behind clouds … Continue reading Two Poems in the style of Frank O’Hara
Suppose disintegrating into the soil is the best next place to be, surrounded by dirt and its worms chomping through. It's more there to me than it is to a student of suits. Yet in an encompassed environment, stemming wood from its fruit, we go laughing and brimming all cute. Still disguise yourself, child. The … Continue reading I Am a Patchwork Quilt
1. Interestingly, as the year begins to turn over, and winter is beginning its five-month grip on the weather, I am in no more trouble than I could be. My mood is beginning to waiver, yes-- I have to better watch my temperament. My shoulders ache, hunched against the wind cold and biting. My hands … Continue reading Balderdash
