Friday, June 28, 2013

6:07 am

Growth
1.
I'm not growing,
  my knowledge of percentages
    makes me calculate to little accuracy
  the worth of people,who in my corruptive
    imagination bury their dead
   in front of their houses

2.
The undertaker says
    he can write on water,
so i believe what he tells me
   and slowly cower back in

Foresight

Night falls,barking windows to all
   all life darkening or shut,
except one from behind which
   a child waves to me
       endlessly..

Asymptote

1.
Back in the day.
  It makes my head spin,
just saying that
   for i'm nothing like i was
 yesterday

 2.
   The old man
  who never sits alone
 in the evening,
    has been seen whispering
  to the tails of dogs

3
 And it was dusk,
   when the boy ducked
 under his mother's skirt
  and pulled on it fearfully until
it emerged along with her behind,
  that there was no heavy breath for him
    without pain.from then on
   he was led to believe
there are no dogs in the yard. 

Monday, June 24, 2013

Love before a poem

 Love before the poem,
    must mean getting to the point
       the point ??..Be water..not the eyes
   Have you searched inside the cases
      you carry everywhere,
            scratched them nude
    to their spines ..for
     it would be conveniently magical to find
   inside them,some rotten tongues

Tuesday, June 18, 2013

Two poems

Events are symbolic, 
  like a rabbit
lit by the lights 
    of a speeding car,
biting on a sunflower
    with his heart
 in his mouth..
   

the oddities of exchange
   can be measured,
in the deft kisses
   on an
 abnormal growth of skin..

Thursday, June 6, 2013


Dreams catch on,
  as i go fleeting past
the casket of summaries

Monday, June 3, 2013

Men small enough to fly


 Have thoughts,
    like orphans
  stranded at the forthcoming..
    Have a heart
  unusual for its
     voice
   Have a song
 free
   of its instruments
   Have a wall
 but first have
    the will to demolish
  Have a lap
of victory
   just to be sure of your loss
  Have a little
breathlessness,
    all the time
  Have an opinion
in matters of
  life alone,
 Have a little rage,
  have a mirror it can't
    look away from
   Have a fight
  to win yourself
     a moment away..
   Have relativity
 to variaions
     in noise too
  Have a journey
marked not only,
     by its ends
  Have a morning
where you tell time by the hand
  that pulls you to your feet
  Have that thing
    what they call,try to call..
      never will be able to

 

Thursday, May 23, 2013

"Applaud"


  To the stage gentlemen,
 yet the daylight moon
   shifts unnoticed
 
  to the rift in her tears
your hands meet to fill,yet
   midnight awaits each of you

  to the grand fall
 off the stage,only regardlessly
  consumed as disaster

  to the slow soundly admittance
 of the barbarian,dressed
   casually as you

  to the lone peanut
sitting at the window grill,
 every little parable attached
 
  to the air in the room
 sodden with breath,multiplied
   only by its size
 
  to the shudder of a heel
stuck in the wooden floor,oh the
  terrible outcomes of reach
 
  to the teary eyed blonde
in the front row,a row for gems
   the heart shaped ones
 
  to the white smoke,rising gradually
befitting the organics
   of the human mind
 
  to the colourless bangles
   sparingly hung over the light bulbs
  popping into everyone's mind as red and blue

  to the anemic commotion
backstage,the whispers of god
   probably not

  to the man cowered
behind the upright paper trees,
  sweating his anonymity

  to the sombre decline
in passing the end,
  between your fingers

  to the curtains
as they fall,
  reminding you of being taken

  to the spreading chorus
of the chairs' yawn
 mindless tricks that wriggle the soul....

Monday, May 20, 2013

A Rainy day


Remember the day,do you?
when it rained
bankrupting your legs
   of their balance,
 the sewers cheered as
    hundreds of bottle caps
 fell through,the bottles
    long overused
      stood beside you
  echoing your voice
     
there were colourless impressions
  of those who passed ahead
 for a moment or two
    in the puddles
before they
    broke into laughter,
   widening as the drops
fell harder
 
    and
   for a breathless minute,
you thought
  there was no returning today
    from the brink