Tag Archives: Poetry

The Journey Pt. 1

7 Aug

Seed pushed up, and slowly grown in

foreign storms, the winds of Mars, from a fallen oak

on the highest peak of Carroke Point. Altitudes

a different sort. I scaled the eastern face,

felt the breath of death and toppled on the

small plateau. The Peak.

A puff of whipped cream at my feet. The cloud.

The clean. The seed. A different breed.

A closer look reveals shadow pupped corrugated

leaves. Interesting. What could it mean? The

wind recedes. I walked around and surveyed the

scene. Serene. The sediment at my feet,

rusted iron filings, chipped granite and peat. Definitely

unique. How did I…

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drawing blanks

25 Jul 

Function - Tiger Cub Samurai


In quiet solitude,           sits.
I
       t  ol   d
                      her
              "de   ath
                        r  e s ts
   quietly.
              "de   ath       i s
 n        o                    t
                   k     ind.
           l           e       ts
                        run.
         s lit 
               de   ath     's
           lif  e."

"n   ice"
         s            he
   quip  s, 
                      her
                    a   r m  s
               de  ka     n,
      e           y    e     s
         sof t.
         s            he
                                   beckons.

image:dtomaloff

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It’s snowing somewhere

19 Jul

George Winston – Bird of Prey

I admit sometimes I don’t say enough.

Sometimes I’m sorry I didn’t.

I’d like to disable this device in my mind.

I saw you standing in the corner

of my eye

only one.

It’s a sweet notion.

This boat in motion

–

World’s morning swing’s swung buckled blanc

blankets and

I’m hitting my head on the bedposts.
–

image: chikache

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It’s Texture

17 Jul

The Flashbulb – Eyes of June

Tacked thistle fog tugs dusk down

with sounds and musk, bristle bound

sack tied with bent and browned

wire.

Dusk in a bag

 

is

 

night runs.

Raging silence, calm and ominous.

Fluid. Knowing. Calls to all of us.

Subtle cricket drawl embalming us.

Night is an egg.

 

if

 

yolk broke

then morning has awoke. Breaking through the lunar skin

crashing down upon the land. And, I’ve never seen the sun so grand.

 

image: dirac3000

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Dissipate

20 Jun 
 
Vashti Bunyan - If I Were


I'm Disappointed
           in
  M  iss
         Pointed
       a
         point
I'  d
  m    a p
           in
                some thought or another
       a
         point
I'  d
                s      ought
                     t o
                                atone
                     through
                     thought
                     ...but found that I could not.

image: Ahmed ElHusseiny

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I’m looking for something to blow me away.

19 Jun

From time to time it’s night in my brain where each shattered nerve end curls up for rest. Wait for the sun. Follow with each shattered chemical head. At times it’s winter and the coma lasts for months on end.

–

At times there’s not a lot going on up there.

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Losing Altitude

20 May

Great Lake Swimmers – Merge, A Vessel, A Harbor

I am going to erase the lines on paper,

The way I’m erasing lines long and latter.

The way I dissipate the states,

and disrupt the county voting data.

Alleviate the ancient gods from

running course around the sun.

Manipulating the current lines that

saddle the sea to bring Magdelene back to me.

And if these lines weren’t around

would I lose my course and run aground?

Would this untamed wind teach me the clouds?

Or would it beat those aging sails down?

What is there left to learn?

I close my eyes and say

god, oh god, oh god,

I’m losing altitude.              (I’m losing my mind)

When a timeline ends,       (always on a point)

Was it ever there at all?     (let’s stay on point)

image: Joe Dunckley

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Stuck outside my body but I think I left a window unlocked somewhere.

25 Apr

Black Moth Super Rainbow – Colorful Nickels

Would I be proud?

I always delayed self assurance.

iv three times pass.

Then,

Friday, 3:00. Forgiving.

A beginning becoming itself.

A compassion I never knew.

A delicate bloom.

Precision in the sun.

Stretched lips and dimple dents.

I see them through the fence.

A timed mind.

The sins of pines

are needles born.

image: ?

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Where do they go, when they leave my mind?

19 Apr 

Fear Of The Unknown And The Blazing Sun - Colin Stetson


A graveyard of discarded dreams
All tangled up in midnight sheets.
The second side of a wilting leaf.
stuck.
in white waterfall foam
it  hits       all ofme           And Fragments
 inside                           And Disappears
                        And dies.
                    or
I don't know what.
but,
I'm sweaty.
And it's been a long month falling off cliffs.

image:Ingrid Hughes

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(and Her)

15 Apr

Sufjan Stevens – Borderline

A ride home as kind as morphine,

I saw floods slip over quiet eyes of friends.

The bridge softly buckles and

the rivets give like dough.

But the tires have all melted away anyways.

and Her lids are heavy and she’s

losing the fight these days.

.

I never saw the blinking lights,

I never heard the siren’s sounds,

Please, let me have the window seat.

.

A ride home being sung to sleep,

I saw lids slip over quiet eyes of mine.

Magdalene softly chuckles and

tidal waves rise and grow,

but my fires have all died away anyways.

And her lids are heavy and she’s

losing the fight these days.

image: tocityguy

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