i have nothing to breed but silence
there are flies in my stomach
that have not fed on roses
for a while
my hands are full with breasts
i think they said something
it was a funny feeling
inside
Monday, January 17, 2011
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
A regular occurrence
Squatting intently at the edge of the
pond
he had been launching stones into
the water
as if to find holes
a wise man passing by looked over in disgust
and said
"you could be doing a lot more with your life,
you could change something in the world"
the young man turned around in amusement
"can't you see i'm trying?"
pond
he had been launching stones into
the water
as if to find holes
a wise man passing by looked over in disgust
and said
"you could be doing a lot more with your life,
you could change something in the world"
the young man turned around in amusement
"can't you see i'm trying?"
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Perplexity
there are noises of cars
pumping smoke
in my dreams
trees lying on roadsides
smiling
dragging themselves to dirt
in search for the sea
and still smiling
as wines choke to their
final vows
peace is abound
in trained thoughts..
pumping smoke
in my dreams
trees lying on roadsides
smiling
dragging themselves to dirt
in search for the sea
and still smiling
as wines choke to their
final vows
peace is abound
in trained thoughts..
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Naked rainbows
There lies a glowing globe
with holes punched into
Eyes look through them
Eyes he remembers
He sits dwarfed
by
shadows of the dawdling sun
leaning backwards against the window
His head rocks back and forth
over the frame
where sits quivering under the dusky
skylight
his last stub
still burning
Burning like the hole by the side of his head
as blood runs down the side of
his lusty arms
The blood circles his feet for about an hour
before floating across them
across the floor
blackening
as it reaches the ashes of his children
still without promises
kept
with holes punched into
Eyes look through them
Eyes he remembers
He sits dwarfed
by
shadows of the dawdling sun
leaning backwards against the window
His head rocks back and forth
over the frame
where sits quivering under the dusky
skylight
his last stub
still burning
Burning like the hole by the side of his head
as blood runs down the side of
his lusty arms
The blood circles his feet for about an hour
before floating across them
across the floor
blackening
as it reaches the ashes of his children
still without promises
kept
Monday, December 6, 2010
Friday, December 3, 2010
corner of the road
millions pass
with eyes squirming inside
their heads
once in a while someone walks
eyes closed
drifting away from spaces
these marauding vehicles come from
drawing patterns on sounds
and fading into them
and if you stood on the
corner i did
you would know..
"its poetry "
with eyes squirming inside
their heads
once in a while someone walks
eyes closed
drifting away from spaces
these marauding vehicles come from
drawing patterns on sounds
and fading into them
and if you stood on the
corner i did
you would know..
"its poetry "
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Like father,like son
Father don't leave me
inked on a piece of paper
lying shriveled
quivering
door to door
between fast moving cars
on this raging asphalt
that you never chose to cross
yourself...
inked on a piece of paper
lying shriveled
quivering
door to door
between fast moving cars
on this raging asphalt
that you never chose to cross
yourself...
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