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Updated 10.11.07

New: Book of Words. I'm working on a book of V-Fridge poems. Check back later for that
 

Download
Book of Words
 

Still Life

She
Permeates every particle
Every cell
Every movement
Every word
In shadows
And the light
So I move
Literally and subjectively
To a large canvas
And begin

When she's
No longer there
I have my drawing of her
Every particle
Every cell
Every movement
Every word
In shadows
And light
Where she hangs
Above my bed
Every night


Lack of Space

There isn't enough
Capacity
To store
The artifacts

These
Material reminders

So I hide them
Among
The shadows of my past

No breadth
To expand
To grow
To distinguish
The new
From
The old

 

Exposed

The widening of places
Once held securely closed
As you reach to my heart
My secrets unfold.

 

 

Searching The Beyond

A fetishist
In zippered leather
Worker boots planted
On the ground
Below

Her cerulean-blue eyes
Looking to
A cloudless sky
Hovering above
All that is
And has always been
Limitless

Wondering if
Success can be found
In failure

 

 


I Killed My Muse


It wasn't very resourceful
At least
Not to me
I placed it in a box
And buried it
Beside a tree
To lie
With the rest
Of my creativity

 

Flow



I could creep
right into your sweet mouth

Slither my way
into your heart

Flow with your pulse
to your mind

Probe and learn you,
love every inch of you
from inside

 






Affects



Her presence walks through me
inside, an absolute orgy,
an eroticism of thought--
a vulnerable target
to this debauchery

the affects linger, but,
the rebel in me perseveres
so I'll reassemble my head
until my mind feels capable
of rational thought once again


 




Spewing secrets


Rain:

A simple serenade of nature
as my thoughts begin to tread,
wavering into indifference
without expression
for a moment
longing for
a kindred spirit
 

If I wish long enough
maybe one will fall
with this spectacle
outside my window
while I spew these secrets

 

Night musk



I may never know again,
this easy ecstasy
so I breathe her into me
filling the quiet, dark spaces
with her night musk



Creation


Words drop onto the page
in a steady cadence.

A breath of intangibility leaves me,
carried away
into insignificant
sounds and sights
surrounding the silence
inside
where a fading shadow
of a spirit
drips from my every pore





Wishes



In this house of tears
and regret
her spirit prowls vengefully
against the backdrop
of drab shadows

Memory plays
and wishes linger
one more chance
to do it better


 



Enlightened


You're gone,
yet the heavens are dry,
so I'll do my best
to reinvent the rain.

Sound pulses,
and I'm traveling through
water and blood,
over land and sea.

I'll find my sacred heart,
if only in our dreams.



Those Moments

Grasping for…
I don't know…

Maybe…
The memory
Of
Those nights
Those moments

Remembering nothing
But a sense that
I have been here
Before:

Seeing you
Stroking you
Feeling you

A quite reflection
Of
Those moments
Like twinkling stars
In the sky above

Grasping for…
I don't know…

Maybe…
At space
Remembering nothing
But
The night
I sensed that
I have been here
Before
In sleep

The patterns, the universe
Abstract images
Of those moments
When I loved you


 

Disruption of Motion


Today, I watched you moving
the woman, the desirous, the brave...
Were I to have the magical foresight
to distinctly see the depth of your sorrow…

But being less extraordinary
not treading with caution and care
unaware of this uphill battle each day
shroud in laughter, electric and buoyant
I keep fighting against your unremitting silence



Submissive

To my consternation,
I conform
to the sensibilities
of the bigoted,
and their
steadfast beliefs.

A more conducive portrayal
to satiate their illusions
to my consternation.





What Calm Comes

A quiet,
the words bring-
where they haven't been
through long
abandoned nights
placid moments true
a plethora of stories
to my world are new.





Uber Enough

A better definition put
sword to stone
sharp as lions teeth
to pierce through bone
searching for a reprieve
from this inevitable
a repetitive fiction
of other lands
lighting a flame
long hair and tears
a comfort scene
placating their ideals
while I exile me

 

 







In A Moment

press yourself to me
soft and deep
Reaching down
with one hand
a nipple to roll
between my fingers
scratch with a fingernail
My eyes are bright
for your need
Reassurance please
You don't have to speak
I've left you no option






Words

Am I insane,
or just
creatively challenged?

Is this deeply descriptive vernacular
cutting through this chaotic web,
or stimulating the thinking--
trusting the opening of self?

A bull-headed persistence,
the relentless pursuit—adroitly or not—
to wallow in the lowest profundity
of my indefiniteness human iniquity.

I cannot accept any more tension;
supplementing the similarities
that coexist together
of writing and actuality.

I've scattered myself in the words;
A drop of rain in a puddle

The stratum is replete;
A gamut of an analytic problem-solving effort…

I didn't choose writing,
it chose me



 

Memories


I observed that struggle
The inevitable end to the loneliness

our conscious choice...

I don't know which was worse-
your river of tears
dragging you down into silence

or

my dread to communicate with you
while fearing your quiet need

compatible relationship that died
beneath the detached truth

the sweetest nightmare
was our goodbye...


 

 

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