cerebral excursions

flight

2009-10-25T00:14:00.000-04:00

thoughts get caught
flutter like lost doves
greased on our chins
slick bats of wings
beat the paths in
white flurries of frenzy
trapped on my face
smacking slapping stabbing
picking pulling grabbing
rummaging stubble for nests
purging worsts for bests
to dig up and plunge
feathered swords into my mouth
and softly choke me

i suffocate, i cough

and fly away again

the lovely why

2009-01-25T00:06:00.004-05:00

keys are teeth biting into my words
sharpening sentences for forwards
the after long since typed
the vine cut
the line ripe

smiles suck the short sense from you
hardening the present promise
the now since spilled
the glass tipped
the cup filled

love loves lift lids to the sky
can opener eyes pried wide
the some other time
the precious try
the lovely why

lana the bee

2008-08-25T08:59:00.001-04:00

stepped into a room full of madness
a slack lounge stuck inside of new orleans
costume night and Lana said she was a bumble bee
her gentleman friend offered stripper dust and shots for free

the band held command and doused out too-loud conversations
i thought too loud of you and drank through my justifications
why you weren’t there, caught lost in the air, still no answer
my cigarette burned, you were more malignant than cancer

Lana said “im’ma blow this town and work the show”
follow Kiss, tat her tits and get her demo on the radio
she played the drums, loved Eric Carr, said he fucking ruled
her trailer park twang had a funny little sting and had me fooled

so madness struck twelve and the band did fade
salt-shaker applause, a girl wrapped in gauze, just another day
Lana the bee, her gentleman friend and me
why you weren’t there is why gaslights hugged hot scenery

reach down

2008-03-25T20:16:00.005-04:00

found my stigmata
in a cereal box
but the decoder wouldn't spin
guess i'll reach down again
and drag the blue night out
black fist fixed with hope
betwixt blinding white notes
of stars strung on guitars
bending light into old
while playing youth
like a breeze breaks trees
(the hurricane truth)
disaster zones spring up
with each steely-eyed sip
this prize isn't it

guess i'll reach down again

old again

2007-10-17T19:41:00.000-04:00

getting old folding cards faster than they're dealt hell awaits dates in a future that sutures past wounds so soon we forget the scars we get when young so fast to come undone and unravel the gravel beneath our feet ground to dust must we trust the next twenty to be filled with plenty of memories fun to me like the way we did the teens and the twenties and parties we screen and drop quick to have kids and cashed checks and 401k days in a maze we traversed and burst through the first time?

(old again when friends drop like flies and compromise is a capital letter word heard best when times stress the young at heart and mind)

old
all over
again

seaside '88

2007-04-30T22:49:00.000-04:00

sunburnt smiles
taffy eyes
salted mouths
shout out surprise
boardwalk splinters
yanked out quick
the pretty bodies
the sea is slick
behind the arcade
i fix my hair
(she'll be standing there
like she promised)
she'll salt the air

coppertone steps
cheap coaster screams
salted mouths
shout out dreams
cotton candy hands
a girl's shape
seaside heights, 1988
ring toss kings
behind the arcade
brag about
the girls that came
(to find themsleves)

that's when tickets
became bigger
than the prizes themselves

that's when tickets
claimed all the shelves
and set every stuffed boy

free

mass transit

2007-04-10T19:55:00.000-04:00

chain curl fly
link me fast
carry me quick
electric blast
shove me shape me
fit me in your mouth
grease face crawl
belch me south
ingestion
(directional congestion)
she's newspaper sexy
he smells like zoo
(i'm a rocket
a dream come true)
i'm a rat
tunneling to live
decibels of love
i'm showered with
coffee fist shake
long jacket wait

doors don't close
doors don't close
doors don't close

fury metal slow
chain curl go
link me carry me hold me
send me away

don't tell me you matter more

2007-03-30T19:05:00.000-04:00

we take music to be something ingested culturally
annually since the inception of time
regardless of meter or rhyme
we should stand straight and revere
each sound that has crawled through an ear
and accept it as factually fulfilling but never willing
to take a cane to the ass of its bloated past
and punish its abusive insouciance
with powerful blasts of the dies it cast
did they forget the outlets they opened
closed shop along with the obvious intentions
of inevitable invention
long ago? for good reason?
seasons change, bland and strange
new days fire the coals of fuck you's and insurgence and angst against both
but music never cares how it's stoked
so long as you step aside as it rolls unabated
extricated like a shadow out from under yourself
to catch lit cannons of history
constantly repeating themselves

don't tell me you matter more

china wine

2007-02-27T22:02:00.001-05:00

amber flicker
body shiver
she's next to me
dusted wisps catch
cabs blowing by
(saw it all in your eyes)

it's cold, it's freezing
can't believe i'm believing
temperatures change
their mind
this time

(and i find
efforts multiplied
that silly try
still justifies why)

dusted wisps flying by
my lips in the night
caught them and kissed them
made me warm

she left
and i stayed that way

union square

2006-12-19T22:39:00.000-05:00

we exploded out of ourselves into thin air
days spent wide asleep in union square
orchestrating the evenings like dead composers
dollar bills for wands and no composure

we did it up
we did it up then
we did it up
we did it up then

fired from cannons with our names on the side
conversations like flames burned in our eyes
music scathing ears and cigarette-smoked skin
all your faces on my tongue, come talk to me again

we did it up
we did it right
we did it up
we did the night

(coming down but don't you sleep
'cause the kids don't wanna leave
and it's snowing in my room
so put your boots on)

we found ourselves in stale air spinning
love filling the room but quickly thinning
light chasing us like clouds run from rain
it's so empty, always ends the same

all your faces on my tongue, come talk to me again

i do not neglect regret but i do not despair
days spent wide asleep in union square
we exploded out of ourselves into thin air

we did it up right
we did it up then
we did the night
way back when

more to me now

2006-11-04T19:02:00.000-05:00

what can you do but go on
wake up laid out in a cherry blossom dawn
spring in dc and these things mean more now

what can you do but reach into your blood
fall asleep laid out in knee-deep flood
summer in new orleans these things mean more now

what can you do but touch the sparks
stare at the sirens heating streets in the dark
winter in new york these things mean more now

what can you do but go on
what can you do withdrawn
without (all)
what can you do but go on

what can you do but lay it on the table
fall awake on ground smattered with maple
autmun in jersey and these things mean more to me now

these thing mean more
to me now

you lost your ring

2006-10-20T22:57:00.000-04:00

in the back of an old german import
i tried to extort
what was rightfully mine
at that time
you obliged to let your hair down
and the rest followed

you lost your ring
just like our youth
stuck somewhere between
backseat and ground
between prom kings and crowns
(the queens they drowned
in schnapps smuggled
in hairspray bottles)

in the back of an old german machine
windows steamed
(an awkward scene)
you kissed the past away
and it rained even harder

dressing up (part II)

2006-09-06T21:38:00.000-04:00

dolled up in the evidence it's prevelant that
you're the victim not the crime and the prime suspect
is time so you put on your best shoes and pretend
to choose which past fits you best (does it match this vest?)
sling on those pants, those old legs left to dance
dusted with chance and perhaps a romance that will happen
and harden and beckon future heart sutures and stitches
that will hem your legs best to better match that vest
and slick new tie in fashion, tug that knot, choke the passion
and part your thoughts nice with a brush, floss your eyes
let the blood rush out so the sights can go play and dress up
get dolled up in their own way and come 'round to reflection

this outfit is an insurrection
this suit is a cou de ta
je ne m'adapte pas

but it's okay
i can pull you out of a lineup any time
damn you look good
damn you looked fine
damn if the victim didn't commit the crime

love (thought #976)

2006-08-22T19:29:00.000-04:00

love drain the light
love make it right
love spin the circus night and blare it in my ear
love weave webs of fear as i fly astray
catch me

love drink me in
love sober me again
love pull the sugar and turn the shape
love make my smile salt and candy tape
stretch me

love drive up my back
love park in a vacant lot
love leave the car running because we got to go
love be half a tank and half a tailight's glow
follow me

love lead me

why

2006-06-08T19:07:00.000-04:00

why we unwind like pencils in sharpeners
is why fire twists our faces up chimneys
why we grind time into ash
is why wicks lust for oil to escape the past

why do we do it
why do we treat ourselves so

why we brand our broken smiles with memory
is why air stumbles drunk down trunks like honey
why we inhale soft feathers of fallen words
is why sweet stampedes always seem to steer our herd

why do we do it
why do we treat ourselves so

why we kill new moons with crestfallen glances
is why we flicker like taillights trailing red distance
why we ignore maps and skid into unmarked starts
is why we need airbags installed in our hearts

why do we do it
why do we treat ourselves so

why we crackle
why we spark and fade
why we live for the explosion

is why we consume what we gave
is why we dig to escape the grave

dream #8

2006-06-07T22:59:00.000-04:00

gardens of fire
roses in the sky
dusted paths amended with passers-by

i
dreamt
i
was
alone

like gardens on fire blowing roses to the sky
like wind kicking dust into unguarded eyes
like shale crumbling grey piles in my path
like inhaling the anvil air of aftermath

i
dream
i
am
alone

like last cigarettes writhing in heat
like cheap wine staining bare feet
like sharp smoke impaling arid eyes
like spiders entangled with live fireflies

i
dreamt
i
was
alone

like indigo the way it bled over your shins
like chamomile wisps (how they fell on my chin)
like a rose basking beams before it burns too much
like the smell of garden when collapsing to dust

i
dream
that
dream

gardens of roses
fire in the sky
paths dusted clean of passers-by

a heart is a diamond

2006-06-01T21:15:00.000-04:00

a heart is a diamond is a walk in the sun
a woman is a face a race not yet begun
a line is an end a place for quick dreams
a finish is the space you always win in between
a heart is a diamond is a jolt when asleep
a love is a closet cleared clean of things we keep
a finger is for some things but mostly to extend
a direction is a line to your last lost friend
a heart is a diamond and a shark in the water
a tear is your soul drawn, hung and quartered
a pulse is what we think we give to others
a kiss is always crimson burning bent auburn borders
a heart is a diamond and a smile tends to shine
a memory is a mountain minus hands to climb

a whisper can kill everything we ever needed free
a stare is the moment when life assumes elegy

(a look down and away sucks blood from a heart
love’s fading lustre cut new diamonds in the dark
a rain on embrace is the weather we last shared
a heartbroken lash slipped down her frightened stare)

a heart is a diamond is a pose in the rain
a walk is hands clasped wrapped in weak chains
a past is the glitter blinded by the eye
a woman is the diamond that dances on by

a heart is a diamond is the reason i try

eulogy (free)

2006-05-29T18:28:00.000-04:00

in living memory
of those who have both shaped and stolen our hearts
who whisper soft torrents of acidic love
whose frenetic energies crack clouds above
whose jellyfish stings crawl the surface below
whose jagged jetty kisses keep erosion slow

in living memory
of those who have both shaped and stolen our hearts
who sneak through the backdoors of dreams
whose steps grow heathers on the space between
whose suns glistened stones, slickened beaches of wont
whose moonlight strolls patrol the door in front

in living memory
of those who have both stolen and then shaped our hearts
who rock the sudden shock of familiar scents
whose faces traipse faultlines of what it meant
whose fingers dredge the mud from our souls
whose hard eyes burn tire lines in stories we’ve told

in loving memory
of those hearts we have both stolen and shaped
we who have pillaged and raped
we who have judged then misplaced
ourselves
i offer forgiveness and sanctity
i offer enlightenment and certainty
i offer shelves dusted clean of yesterday
and a place to display an unopened today

in living memory
of those who have both stolen and shaped our hearts
who have recklessly rushed the waves with me
whose confections have created this sea
whose breaths have ever brightened the blue

fuck you

love you

miss you too,

me

p.s. you're free

the ocean

2006-05-24T00:24:00.000-04:00

anger was the ocean
undulate wild beneath me blue
suicide waves ripple razor quick
but never slip below

undertow, the jagged grasp of fall
the beck and call of it all
(heard it in a song
carried the moral all along)

salt wind begin the whipping
smack heart, thrash start
taffy wisp turns of summer beginning
new every time, mine

in spirit the salt surf wastes (away)
in mouth the crushed stone taste
(coppertone on the phone long distance)
age flails and turns

spins neon circles past flashing words
“jet star” (rumbling mad in harmony ‘round loose curves)
close tides crash ever harder
never mind, diamond shine, fade martyr

jersey shore, 1984
cause and effect of thunderous neglect
miss you more than subways
feel you with my eyes
catch you on the reprise
we’ll all sing the song
we meant for you

anger was the ocean
slick waves ripple quick
salt surf not wasted on me
not in this memory

this net

2006-05-18T20:54:00.000-04:00

rich in cigarettes and alcohol
what you get from fictional net
meant to prevent the fall

grace is a facial you once got
looked good from the front
as you were walking away

stay. once. mull it over a minute
looked good from the front
when you were wrapped up in it

but i digress (while i figure it out)…

a shout is a thought a vowel you just bought to win the game to circumvent sane and win big money! big prizes! the compromise is that you sold yourself short and the stupid moment you bought is as temporary as tooth fairies and easter egg hunts and staying adult when told so now i want that vowel, that letter, that thought to be sold because the game is not to be won but to be begun on your terms in spite of waiting worms— big money!— crawling out answers in corners so i wanna kick a shout in the head and command it to think instead and contain familiar refrains of decades gone and move on…

but i digress.

rich in cigarettes and alcohol
fists full of fictional falls
thoughts like tannins taint recall

this net is far too strong

flowers make rain

2005-12-08T23:51:00.000-05:00

this thing when it's red
this thing when it's dead
it doesn't rhyme

this rhyme when it's real
this rhyme when i feel
it isn't dead

the abberation's a cessation from gestation
i grow inside the red rhyme
i flow within blood time

the calamity's a travesty of ability
i die inside the red rhyme
i try within blood time

this hour when it moves
this flower when it proves
petals remain

this heart when it quakes
this part when it makes
flowers make rain

the emotion's the potion of sweet corrosion
where love floats in the red rhyme
the sweet perfume of blood time

the saccharine of back again and so on
the rush of red rhyme refrains
whenever the flowers make rain

this is my time
blood time
when rain rhymes

coming around

2005-12-06T11:26:00.000-05:00

wander broken paths and cut your feet on the aftermath
count the lines you have crossed looking back
shoulder holds the setting sun in a wisftul haze
there always seem to be better days
there always seem to be better ways

scout the overgrown ride a trail to the other side
count the lines you have drawn looking back
twilight beams blue streaks up weathered cheeks
there always seem to be better weeks
there always seem to be fading creaks

step forth a shaking shoe and hope to land on solid new
count the lines you have grown looking up
wisps of golden hair shade dance in the morning air
there always seems to be better there
it always seems to be everywhere

Fight Me

2005-11-02T21:32:00.000-05:00

Fight me
I want to fight back
Rush over me like uncorked air
No message in the bottle
But a rusted to punch to the heart
The pungent uppercut of attics and youth
Spill the milky jaw of age all over your calendar floor
Cry the crusted smile off your cold face
Cleanse the floor, twist it with your tongue
Splinter me (your tears are daggers)

Fight me
I want to fight back

the battle without

2005-07-21T21:40:00.000-04:00

and little tin men fall in a forged line
hear the accord of no and yes
(i can pour it in my head)
they screamed "charge" from the ground
(aprapo ain't the right word darlin')
'cause they dug a hole in the sound
muskets of dirt and faces of lead
burrow they did into the war within
broken shoulders wrapped in turnicate skin
pocket watch smiles chained to torn pants
acrid air stuck in hair their last romance
and a greivance to beg against the impending day
i lost my wife i gave my life you gave no pay
bones dug in dirt you leave me no choice
to bide my frayed minutes until rusted voice
will arise
and infiltrate your very lives:
watch it on your morning train
absorb me in your pouring rain
(i evaporate you, you know)
teeming as your rose gardens sow
my jagged perfume, the ironic joy of change
dab it, your're extravagant, now rearrange
life
as you think you should you feel
(darlin' none of it is real)
because you are just another pawn
as i was in that dawn
letter to a love red on my breast
and you, whoever you are
the shadow of a thought at very best

i went cold
and never even knew your name

revelation #26 (defused)

2005-06-17T19:36:00.000-04:00

these granite horizons
don’t weigh me down anymore
it takes a lot to hold them up
and i have lost the atrophy
once fermenting inside of me

muscle by muscle we’ll build the sky
and hold those horizons up on high
melt our dreams like wax in the sun
and drip our lies over paper skies
once folded over inside of us

these sculpted sunsets
don’t choke the blood anymore
it takes a lot to let it flow
and i have lost the acrimony
once boiling over inside of me

seven years

2005-06-17T19:34:00.000-04:00

definitions of me
sawdust piles lie coy in mystery
scrape me together and grab some glue
not for me but for you
because i just fall through hands
like serrated grains of pine barren sands
so build your finest prop
and jack up your jaw dropped

don’t fall apart on me now
i’ve got a dove in my mouth
and caterpillar fingers inching your way
explosions for eyes and a fistful of compromise
i ejaculate the sunrise for you
while cut arms disarm the harm
(sure i know trite, but do you?)
sure i know me, but could you?

and if the mirror falls to your feet
abstracted into splintered sheets
can you ever remember
just who you were talking to?

when orion cries

2005-04-13T20:26:00.000-04:00

where do the ghosts go when there’s nothing left to scare
when fearless bed sheets can no longer mask mischief
or undo the undone clocks?

where do all the lonely spirits go now naked in the light
when the dead of dark came alive trapped in their eyes
and gnawed off its paw?

do they hang in bars with their emotional scars
hung like halloween candy from their long chagrins
and order another round of shots?

do they sit when they wish to float and hope to gloat
just one last time before time unwinds and it’s back in line
to catch the next flight to hades?

maybe they rise and make constellations that make me move
and twist themselves into shuddering shapes of irony
and fall like old photographs
shooting cold holes in the sky

maybe it’s want and not need
maybe the ghost is free

april says

2005-04-06T10:06:00.000-04:00

and if i’m green and blithe and warm like spring would you wrap your summer song around my frozen chorus and make the days last longer like twilight walks circling sleeping parks and navigating me through the revelry— the triumphant harmony of love’s plundering army— and paint me in your picture with blood from a rose and sea from the sky and let the maize of sun be your eyes and bathe these lies of truths and burdens of proof in a glance best left for faded black and whites where i am the rough edges but i know we have the negatives buried deep in our minds somewhere in boxes cut from old calendars with the winters crossed out and the thawing fingers of spring running childlike through the fresh cut grass

this secret stream (how to listen to "crucify")

2005-04-01T19:34:00.000-05:00

mangle me with your darkroom eyes dark strobes probing red my heart cannot take the heat and i become a blurred black and white you shook me too tight in your hand you hung me to dry and then the spies (those penetrating eyes) saw through the filthy film on my mind and you took another picture a puzzle to muzzle the overgrown thoughts of words unheard because they refused to clean themselves up and smile and pose and say sorry matters sorry matters sorry matters sorry clatters cold teeth in a dark room in a foreign corner and reaches for…

the last piece

when windows are open

2005-03-22T11:13:00.000-05:00

when we spin the beginnings of ends
around our fingers tight like yarn
we cut circulation of bad to good
turn the words from should to could
and all the hummingbirds frozen in flight
backwards flutter fall from sight
rhinestone eyes so bright in mind
shimmer and fade seem so unkind
but turn and spin and die we must
to live and breathe and escape the rust
and oil ourselves in tears of clouds
check our parts and shed cold shrouds
smile enjoy this strange second chance
every day a seventh grade dance
awkward nervous filled with promise
the days of spring are fast upon us

and i lust for it’s sweet scented touch

outrunning the storm

2005-03-14T19:29:00.004-05:00

along a black hole horizon
there glowed a soft parade
of firefly eyes
in the decreasing distance
it flickered, hummed and rolled
over black pavement night
slow as a summer breeze
slick as fresh candles
slithered a caravan of hearts
choking through the southern sea of night

it draws nearer now in memory
parting potholes and swamplands
and boiling bayou sand
as a shooting star divides sleeping skies
--headlights drowning in marsh air
oil volcanoes bubbling in bowels of engines
windows awash in bugs and dust—
an enormous unknown uncoils
bright before my fluttering eyes
the darkness takes a fall

in the coal black curtain
of a texas border night
simmered salvation
perspirating desperation
quelled by the sight
of eighteen coughing wheels
turning slow, popping stones
crackling ground, rattling bones
a furious fresh breath of rest

and i can swear by the chance of sun
(although then i never thought of one)
we had dug this dust nirvana
this beacon on greased dirt waves
out of the ground
with our own shaking hands
and let a thousand tired eyes
put themselves in a jar
suffocate against the sides
and outrun the oncoming storm

shut the door

2005-03-08T22:03:00.000-05:00

oh home
be not
sideways snow blowing lids back
or sharpened wind dissecting lips
(it’s just the walk home dear boy)
be it
solitude
shaken walls huddling feebly together
make a box of metal make it hold fast
for tonight
i sleep
for tonight
what is wrong
stays outside
gnarled cat clawing at the open space
between front door and floor
it’s greased hiss
muddled
in tired ear
i grant you access to nothing so black as the space you which to reach
i grant you nothing
old sound
for tonight i sleep
and you can feel free
to bury me
in your misery
(where mariners tread on clenched waves
and boxers hunch in driven pain
and dandelions wilt before your very breath
take this picture i have painted lovingly
my middle finger extended pensively
what could it mean?
kick the shadow in the stomach take the hurt
run it in circles ‘til it stops
smack the hurt in the face find a place
mark an x on the ground where it drops
and draw a smile
defile dead rhetoric
spit on the grave and mimic
ways in which you were treated
days that always retreated
from the gnarled cat claw of shadow
scraping in timeless vain)

oh home
how could you have known
you have grown from metal
into man
and taken a stand
on two feet
instead of one?

where are my manners?

2005-03-06T17:42:00.000-05:00

cracks slowly take shape
in the sentences we speak
spray light all around
the room of our voice
words are knives
sharpening themselves on open ears
carving sound into delicate pieces
slivers of open air we wish to grab
adore and ingest
we marvel at our hunger
because we do not know
how long it has been since we sat
at the listening table
and felt satiated
stupidity is the spoon above our plate
begging for dessert
empathy is the fork on the left
we have not yet used
the one that brings the words
closer to the heart
closer to home
closer to the ones we love

welcome to astoria

2005-02-28T13:39:00.000-05:00

towards the steel-tiled horizon
silver snakes slither and hiss
along the backs of bare spines
jutting from fossilized land
giant parasols of rails and rust
cover cracked pathways
long forgotten futures
of roaring yesterdays
that presently pave each day
from gilded heart
to home sweet home

unpacking

2005-02-26T23:17:00.000-05:00

there’s the one
where i wasn’t sure
of what i was holding
the picture
or her
or the picture
in her
or the thought
of more pictures

(if god made photobooths
then the devil made power)

and i don’t have the time
to cut every cord
i don’t have the time
to break every bulb
to tear every curtain
to obscure every lens
to jam every change slot
to burn down every bar
to save every soul
from making prisons
out of memories

or

from freeing
all the love
chained to the dark corners
of musty
standing cameras

the art of silence

2005-02-24T11:09:00.000-05:00

she lost her tongue
in the swirling grey aftermath
of the blinding implosion
dead star quiet
she reaches me
in white hot lines
of dying frequencies
and illuminates absence
like a spinning lighthouse
carving through
oil-slicked air

? (!)

2005-02-23T11:43:00.000-05:00

love’s allegory acidic
orange plunge heart pulp
syrup sweet the rivers run
arms’ length away
far from gutted hunger

hypocrisy tree bare word fruit
parch wilt water you are
branches burnt bend break
explode expose brittle ground
tilt topple impact SOUND

quiet?

soft?

auburn leaves piled pillow high
(thoughts raked long before the fall)
saved the whole shebang

what?

point?

the irony is enough
to make me squeeze
an orange into one good eye
and see your side
to make me shove
a splintered stick into one good ear
and listen to your story

this is the sound

2005-02-07T20:24:00.001-05:00

this is the sound
corrugated fingers scraping sheet metal hips
this is the sound
open brick tongue shaping barbwire lips
this is the sound
flaming kettle drums banged by velvet hammers
this is the sound
ossified arms snap grasping love's glamour
this is the sound
my angel engulfed in snow driven silence
this is the sound
cut circuits encapsulate electric defiance
this is the sound
broken winged doves whistling through the sky
this is the sound
player piano memories notched on my eyes
this is the sound
pure silken rivers of hair rushing shoulders
this is the sound
crackling brown grass of touch growing older
this is the sound
razor rain pummeling pavement to dust
this is the sound
echoes of sentiments pretending to be us
this is the sound

lily lane

2005-02-01T22:28:00.000-05:00

there existed the evergreens
coniferous canopies floating hazily in sunset air
blazing black crows tied tightly to treetops
untamed rains of sound ushering in twilight
fading amber rays grazing her sweet cheek
fire on the water tumbling toward cold toes
ballads of atlantic winds whistling through my head
she a solar flare symphony swarmed by butterflies
keeping me campfire warm
lost in her lost in the wilderness
her sideways smile is a compass
i etch that image on my tongue
and taste it
when hungry
i paint that image on my eyes
and see it
when i sleep

brevity of sound

2005-01-31T19:56:00.000-05:00

the brevity of silent sound
that escapes us all
cries murder in the dead wind
that is our every day
sure as breath we amble along
waiting patiently
like waiting room magazines
to be read, ingested, swallowed whole
like the flaking
roadside billboards we are
beyond the beyond
we hope to begin
currently we
shape and strecth our docile skin
around illuminations of frustration
dirty stucco walls
in pale yellow light
tiny hopeless romantics
burning bright
as viking burials
set out to sea
we are not our dreams
we are us
we are collectively more beautiful
than a hundred rose gardens
strung like a necklace
around our soft throats
the brevity of silent sound
screaming "let me out"
is all we have

shadow is free

2005-01-29T19:45:00.000-05:00

shadow is free
frolics in the musty shoebox with the other shadows
their midnight whispers rattle like cards in spokes
“let us out let us out let us play
the devil is scratching his head
dandruff melts on our tongues like fresh snow”
awful weather where they live
chance of hurried flurries buries them eternally
they hold parched eyes in their palms so delicately
have to be able to see the past without turning, they say
have to be able to look back without falling forward, they ramble
one is a meteorologist, i think
his forecast always erroneous and esoteric
another a hitman
pistol-whipping his knee constantly
a few are scholars
illiterate fools clamoring on about empirical formulas

the artist
i like him

the doctor
is out

the teacher
has a heavy ruler

the nightingale
sings dirges
about loss lament let love LIVE
sit soar stand still saline SHOUT

the shadow
is free

the shadow
plummets
like lead wrapped in granite twisting turning fingers burning
weightless breathless sightless tranquil (as a summer wave)

the shadow
is free

rush hour

2005-01-24T18:36:00.000-05:00

little dervish let her spin
touch the fun taste the wind
bright eyes warm winter glaze
street intersection directional maze
how sweet the mind uncluttered
how young the heart unfettered
swims floats skips falls in snow
make an angel now before you know
uphill slopes are in your way
and you can’t cash in on rainy days
let the hot glint of sun warm your toes
let the tall one melt your icicle nose

hope on a monday morning

i have seen it all

in the blue of twilight

2005-01-17T19:33:00.000-05:00

i can taste the tannin in your stare
it peers down a road to somewhere
miles that try to escape themselves
by backing over innocent by-standers
are drunk in your glare

momentous occasion grow small
in the deepening blue of twilight
collapses on itself like on old ferris wheel
rusted air rises in the rapids of the aftermath
i know i've paid for this ride before

glimmers of tomorrow sparkle coy
you nasty thing, you dirty hope you
i’d buy you a drink from the other end of a dusty bar
if i could only make eye contact
present obscured in a muddy mirror

but hark, i hear the angels calling
they reek of opportunity laced with fear
their screams smell like syrup and flint
wings burn when touched and explode beautiful
shower me in amber ropes of light

wrap me red
heal the head
make a boy’s smile shine
in the deepening blue of twilight
in the maddening blue of twilight

boardwalked

2005-01-14T22:24:00.000-05:00

sugar descends on minds of dust
dark corners taste so sweet
cotton candy clouds conjure
caramel chords
second hand sounds
(pyromania)
mired in minutes
so quick to be up in it
saccharine streams weld patterns
cobwebs that never matter
the smell of youth
saltwater taffy
never tasted so orange
before the summer storm
the jet star ran warm
railing new wires
fistfuls of unknown
they the beautiful they the strong
we the massacred we the wrong
a touch of you for me
a touch of you for free
stampeding honey trampling the dream
we drip
we fall
we do it again

3:54 am

2005-01-13T19:06:00.000-05:00

she wrote her book
on the backs of old recipes
scrolled them up
parchment cylinder crinkles
placed in a box on fire
things are less legible
when smoldering
i tried to inhale
the smoky sentences
maybe they would make sense
inside of me
as opposed to pretty thoughts
glancing off my eyes

i am scared to breathe out

1983

2005-01-12T13:18:00.000-05:00

wednesday is today
yesterday was 1983
yes, i remember
(africa, allentown, all those years ago)
phone home birthday party plates
holding dark brown crumbs
at safe distance
from the hungry alligator
on my shirt

test scores were high
(meant nothing,
just cared that i got a new activision game
as a reward)
four years of awkward adolescence
awaited the innocence
like a chainsaw staring down a tree
and i, a weak birch
wandering in the woods

when i came out the other side
the alligator had stopped breathing

another dream

2005-01-11T13:10:00.000-05:00

the beautiful one
with the purple eyes
smiles sideways
in my head
moonlight drips upward
from the silver window
where there is no wall
just the color green
undulating tirelessly
is it the sea? am i drowning?
the beautiful one
places willowy finger
upon clenched lips

“you are dreaming
you are the dream”

then i am the yellow island
where the green undulates for me
in waves that lap at my warm heels
and the beautiful one
with the purple eyes
is the palm
that dances gently
in the sweet salted air

Dysfunction Junction, What's Your Function?

2005-01-11T11:06:00.000-05:00

(Poetry is pretentious, so I’m taking a break. At least that’s what I’m saying because I haven’t written any lately.)

I used to think Katie Holmes was hot. Like, super hot. Like Phoebe-Cates-coming-out-of-the-pool-in-Fast-Times-at-Ridgemont-High hot. But something strange seems to have happened this morning. Let me explain.

I have somehow found myself in the midst of an unprecedented run of watching Dawson’s Creek. (Slight pause for laughter and the few readers who just threw their laptops on the floor.) Back-to-back episodes every weekday. Two straight hours of Pacey’s disarming witticisms, Dawson’s drive-in-movie-screen forehead, Jack’s ridiculous rushing of a fraternity as an openly gay freshman (I’m not the least bit homophobic, but this just wouldn’t happen in real life, at least not at the snotty, small-town college they are attending), and Jennifer’s maddeningly mysterious omniscience. Seriously, every character is like some top-of-the-mountain oracle that casually passes around sage advice and life lessons as if they were simply a joint and a bottle of wine. Every answer to every question is ten minutes too long.

Joey: “They forgot to put cream cheese on my bagel. Is that a sign?”

Pacey: “You know, Sartre believed that all bagels were meant to die, because all they really wanted was to be English muffins. You know, whole, like they way you want to be Joey. And the cream cheese you long for is Dawson. Go now, run to him. And I hope my amateurish attempt at psychoanalyzing your love of spreadable bread condiments does not diminish the way you truly feel about him.”

To borrow a line from Kemper, it’s fairly irritating.

At least Andy’s out of the picture now. What the hell was her problem, anyway?

Back to the topic at hand. I’ve started to notice that all the cute little idiosyncrasies that used to make Joey Potter unbearably hot now just make her unbearable. The crooked-mouthed confusing look she applies to every situation used to be enough to make any hormone-fueled high-schooler pop a chubby in his Levi’s. But this is college, and that innocent, introverted aura just does not fly. I remember steering clear of girls like her in college because they either had far too much baggage or a butcher’s knife in their pocket. And then there’s the myriad of facial ticks that make her resemble Katherine Hepburn on Red Bull. Does every conversation she has have to involve twelve furious bats of the eyelashes, ten alternating eyebrow raises and five brushes of hair behind the ear? Okay, the opening sequence to every college episode does have her jogging in a tight shirt and skimpy shorts, so I got that going for me. But when does she grow up and just GET IT already?

And can we change the damn theme song?

writer's block

2005-01-06T13:50:00.000-05:00

ashtray
eyes
smoke
words
rise
cream
wisps
letters
cough
letters
air
(paper
palette
obvious
stupid)
spell
space
words
breeze
dammit
smoke
in
out
words
rise
ashtray

december

2005-01-06T13:44:00.000-05:00

grey ocean floats
holding pattern pigeons
vultures

stacked bricks plunge
smoked surface face
smooth

trembling hand hold
amber point stick
drag

answer question none
absence clear opaque
always

rigid lids lean
arid eyes sleep
less

dance dark spark
die shine deliver
december

leafless

2005-01-06T13:40:00.000-05:00

petrified capillaries
small shaking branches
a tree on its last limbs
strikes a strange angle
pointed toward warmth
hoping (like its frigid fingers
folded in glacial prayer)
the sun will come out
come out somewhere
make chlorophyll matter
like blood to a heart
i stare and we start
to accept
our bittersweet
synchronicity

age = temperature

2005-01-06T13:15:00.000-05:00

pre-war angles
meet and make walls
mathematics
cannot explain
incessant metal clangs
sounds of gremlins
making heat
noticeably absent
icy calm

frozen arm
creeps in slow
permeates space
where insulation
called out sick
past elderly brick
quietly slinks
through hardwood
villages of dust

i shudder

november’s gnarled claw
scrapes at my face
teeth clatter
like the tracks
beneath the local 6
i take a sip
of brittle coffee
and wish
for so much more

kas

2005-01-06T13:03:00.000-05:00

i miss her on this new york morning
as shards of sharp autumn sun
blanket a tar floor
under a cool blue ceiling
children laugh
animals speak
vehicles scream
the wind walks

waves of life
pour up and over
flood my tar floor
buildings smile
as rooftop treetops
bend and sway
in the dance
of manhattan’s sunday

rusted boxes
whir and cough
a symphony
carried away
on a concrete breeze
massive shadows
crawl along
faces of safe edifice

some
slumber quietly
in there
not ready
to take in
the shimmering air
i breathe in the city
and exhale my mind

i miss her on this new york morning

i miss her every time