Saturday, 18 August 2018

rebellion (internal)

there are energies like crickets set up to hum inside us when we are young, they speak to us of rebellion and work us into our circumstances. some are fueled by attitudes and opinions that over time got shaped into beliefs. others don't give a damn whether it's day or night, whether we are tired or hungry, broke or nicely compensated. they whip up a storm in us which is honestly so compelling, we cannot resist despite our better judgment. we live. we cannot help but live!

Friday, 17 August 2018

draw near the dark melody

out toward the center of the lake, august summer nights, the water dead calm. the atmosphere uninterrupted, both surface and air. they could not see one another and could no longer hear all the commotion on every shore. a loon gets lonely, too.

and there despair was born. made it's way up the long and slender throats. the necks pointed to the sky, and curves of beak parted, opening throats to air. the saddest melody filled the lonely night with sound. echoes in every cove.

we were young and holding hands. snuck out with flashlights to walk the banks to the painted bridge. hidden in the deepest shadows of the canopy, on a new moon night. drawn together out on the island, waiting. long winter a distant memory.

listen... the aching pain of solitude is calling! before i only heard your sweet voice. so small we are... touching your soft warm palm with mine... feeling your breath on my face... i may never feel so close to you again.

Thursday, 16 August 2018

queen

Motown
Detroit
Chicago
Mississippi
Blues to soul
I could feel the love
The warmth beneath your voice
You could shout a song
I never saw or heard anything
Like you
Mocha skin tone
Cream and sugar
Black coffee
You made us all rich
You woke us up
I could feel the love
I could laugh
I could cry
On a dime
With the whole
World

Tuesday, 14 August 2018

borderline

borderline felt fenced in again and jumped from side to side. she took the bridge to nowhere and climaxed beyond 100 in her ride. finally she could breathe. the tears got blown off the side into gray sky and fell to darker waters. the contrast was kindness to her eyes. guns was on the radio. a kiss from axl rose to make it better. she found a wild flower on the river bank and wove it into locks. kicked some rocks and walked back to her car. the radiator fan still blowing out the heat. when the rains began to hit the pavement, well, she liked to believe she started all that storm.

trouble

trouble pushed a curse off the edge of a busted lip. didn't care. got home after lights out. escaped into comic books when domestic bliss blew up again. trouble was secretly oversensitive and cried himself to sleep. only little sister knew. courage was taking the brown glass bottles, pushing his skateboard through the alleys to the vacant lot. throwing them at the old brick wall. all that was left of a home. trouble broke all the necessary rules. why not? culture never did nothing for them. lodged in hell. some day he and little sister would write a letter and hitchhike outta here. find a paper route and a giant wave to surf. santa cruz.

Monday, 13 August 2018

8 less 8 was none

the composition shifts a degree and the whole world dissolves. the fires far east lick the earth, suffocate the seaweed paper tongue, two air-conditioned hearts, tokyo rising sun. four chamber orchestra reflection in the sea. sails stretch out for perth. eight, less eight, makes none.

blue too

she was not sad. she hid in the mountainside when the rains came hard like tropical noon. once tranquil she was now and then a monsoon. downcast from time to time. rivers caught the swollen tears of fortune. she irrigates our lands. so to feed our children. for to carry on and on and on

14 twelve

in 12 we found fourteen
a chance to come clean
there can be no
hesitation

the thoughts
the feelings
cannot be trusted

go and do what must be done
today is the only
day

disparity of a spirit

the ash has fallen and losses are revealed. a lucky one. i am surrounded by all i have. though i may fight my growing belly and hard won responsibility, i see i lack nothing. today the sun rises in a great dispersion of rays. no more the orange coal. the fires are contained. my spirit can laugh once again.

Wednesday, 8 August 2018

mercury

haze and cars all
in the shop for days
the temperature refuse
to drop. mercury
approaches the bus
stop. flashes red
and betas swim
in flames across the
english channel

spark
america
spark

Monday, 6 August 2018

lost weekend

i lost myself last weekend
in the gaze of hazy summer
burn, on tray liners, in fast food
wrappers

i lost myself riverside searching
for water lily gardens. little girl
chasing ducks. swings her bell
off a low tree branch in the shade

i found myself fearful
sweating the small stuff with you
again. fuck. how many moments
away from the deep

simplicity blue. one pack holds
all we need to survive. one road
an entire adventure

one laugh into the chasm one
prayer. i am here. you are there
nothing stands between us

you lose yourself

gatherin stale opinions
off the internet is
wearisome. too long flashin screens
in your face

you gotta get up
brush it off and
go talk to someone

then you find out who you
really are. you clearly know
who you are
not

half a million acres burned

only the new hairstyle
could offset a sense of
setback glowing like
the morning sun rose
red in the smoke
sky

smoke

the sun rose red
in an ashen sky
my failing was fast food
and an instant
high

Friday, 3 August 2018

eight.three

i am constituted of methods mistaken for madness by those who believe so strongly in ideas they have fixed to a chain in the backyard. we are not made up of thoughts of us. they can cuss you out to kingdom come. cursing's what they made of. go and live your life. I am constituted of good will and fire in the belly for a creative compelling outcome manufacturing something rare of high quality, worthwhile.

Thursday, 2 August 2018

eight.two

two in eight and eight of two
got tossed up and turned
a few. 1982

gimme
gimme
gimme some
rolling off the tongue

you got me an
i got you
dollars turn to
straw

music fills the hall
a powder white
parade

soon the smiling dancing
do not care falls off
the face

what a way
to go



eight.one

one in eight and eight of one
lives in shadows
of the sun

where all is of a hue
translucent eggplant blue

and songbirds whistle
dirges

encased in film
and glue