RSS - Posts
I notice things…
like that night
on the beach down south
in the half-moonlight
Our footprints
glowing in the dark
or the not quite dark
as we walked the shoreline
I almost didn’t say anything
since it had nothing to do with
what we were talking about
but on the edge of vision
the wet sand that registered
our footsteps
with a barely perceptible glow
that dissipated into the world
of half-moonlight
I also noticed
your friend’s husband
goosing you that time
when we were all
in the kitchen
getting ready to barbecue
I heard you yelp
saw your little dance
on tiptoes
and then you went about
your business
like nothing happened
And then there was the time
when my best friend was visiting
and you were reclining on the couch
in your baggy short shorts
giving a show
something in you was trying
not to notice
and I was trying
not to let the gauntlet
hit me in the guts
How reckless at times
our careening path
like stunt drivers
with blindfolds
Now at the end of the road
that folds blindly
blame goes the way
of recollection
the glow of footsteps
absorbed into sand
Vainglorious.
No, this is not abo
ut the Greek electronic music composer.
I am not a morning person . I’m not a night person either. I’d say I’m a 5 minutes somewhere between breakfast and lunch person. Though I know not everybody eats breakfast or lunch. I should have said morning and noon. Anyhow, if I can get in my 5 minutes of personhood, then I have accomplished what I am capable of. It has been awhile since I have done that. Yet I continue on, only mildly daunted, knowing that somewhere sometime along the way I will receive that reminder of why I am.
The world is turning constantly. Hurtling through space. An oasis of possibility. Blink, and then it is gone.
Words lie. People lie. People use words to lie. Words cannot really describe the truth. When I try to describe the truth with words, I end up lying. No way around that. The best we can do is perhaps just a lie of omission. Leaving something out. Because it doesn’t fit our version of the truth. Maybe its just something that we conveniently don’t remember. Or maybe we do, but we are so good at reshaping the truth to fit our lies that we can effectively ignore some things, almost as if they don’t exist. It is in this half-way realm between truth and lies that words carry us.
Filed under: Poems, Uncategorized | Tags: consumerism, illusion, lost in the supermarket, poetry, religion
I have failed
I have vomited forth
the scope of my beliefs
the essence of my religion
lost it in the industrial swamp
through the din of the status quo
met with silence or worse
I have whispered with oblique reference
the hopes closest to my soul
while hammering home the most trivial
of hackneyed cliches
spelling out the names
of my favorite ball players
like a pantheon of saints
I have been angry at the wrong things
Used my rage ineffectively
to destroy myself
to ensure failure
I have put my trust in shiny objects
to dazzle myself into submission
to aspire to become part of the great beast
the fire that once
kept me up at night
has been doused, stirred
covered in ashes and mud
as I come to accept my fate
a puppet of artifice
longing to belong
Filed under: Images, Uncategorized | Tags: fire, night, painting, poster, spirits
Filed under: Phenomena, Poems, Uncategorized | Tags: earth, Frank Waters, gravity, memory, poetry
the only reason there is memory
is because we are here.
it never happened,
only in so much as it is happening now.
i am alive
ruled by gravity
my every thought and action
carried out according to the clock
the micropulsations of the sphere
north to south and back again
vibrate though the portal
at the top of my skull
pass though me
fanning out, then
funneling back again
to the place of beginning
i am grounded
only in so much as I can feel
the origin from whence it comes
the pull to earth
