The deluge bursts forth
Drowning fragile blades of grass
Worms emerge for breath
Month: September 2009
oi
poetrylyrics like yours arent there anymore
for me to admire
and copy with rhyme
beat to perfect timing
since then things seem off
since we sat together
in the sun in our classroom
mocking the teacher
and dreaming of publication
Planetary
poetryWe are like
little worlds,
each a slight parody
of the next. Each
just near enough
to be the
same system,
with all of us
at least one
world apart.
I see you,
through the
(mostly imagined)
vacuum,
but it is hard to
reach so far.
I will try to land my
craft.
I can not survive
on your surface.
Hemorrhage
poetryThe wound cuts deeply
But you designed it that way.
Tear off the tourniquet.
Do not let the blood coagulate.
Do not let my heart harden.
Allow me to release all of myself
So that you fill me instead.
Allow me to let go.
To let your spirit live within.
casting
poetrythe sun
peeks through the trees
burning with early morning intensity;
people
cast shadows
to the horizon.
Stoic
poetry‘Well, contrary to
popular belief,
YOU CAN’T MAKE ME
do a damn thing.’
If that were a
T-shirt, I’d call
bullshit every time.
Because, who needs
reaffirmation of their
personal stoicism from a
T-shirt?
Now shut the fuck up
and go get me a soda.
rainy day joys
poetryhead lifted to the sky
accepting cold drops;
suddenly i am awake.
西施 xishi
poetrygrainy
is what they’d say
because they’d miss
the short
fat
tiny spout
and see rather your texture
than your form
utility
over beauty
after all your sand roots
make you not less useful
just slightly more
absorbent.
Anyone
poetryThere’s nothing special to it:
Anyone could write these lines.
Just like anyone
Could search for truth
Find it.
And still refuse to believe.
I guess it’s not for everyone.
rainy saturday morning
poetryas the clouds blot out the sky
darkness spreads through the drapes
and into my living room,
casting me in shadow
and the wish that
the sun would stop shining
and darkness would expand,
until there is no difference,
between night and day,
between day and night,
and this moment would last.
memoreeze
poetry, theologer, theology, Uncategorizedyou never live anymore
you just lie around
and ask for stories
prolly
cuz your socks are too short
and you claim its for style
for style
for style
and asking for stories
seems like you forgot about
the things you smoked
and drank and did
back when you knew
how to live
Late Night Conversation
poetryWe’ll let the fire burn itself out,
but that damn log is big enough
to last ’til sometime late tomorrow
afternoon, and that suits me just
fine.
Haiku
poetryUnfathomable
Meteorological
Actuality
learning
poetrymy nephew started school this week
and i fear for his life.
i fear our system that teaches
the rote memorization of facts we’re quick to forget
The immediate or proximate cause of war was the assassination on 28 June 1914 of Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria, heir to the Austro-Hungarian throne, by Gavrilo Princip, a Serbian nationalist.
after the test
punishes thinking/exploring
Begin by dividing the left-most digit of the dividend by the divisor. The quotient (rounded down to an integer) becomes the first digit of the result, and the remainder is calculated (this step is notated as a subtraction). This remainder carries forward when the process is repeated on the following digit of the dividend (notated as ‘bringing down’ the next digit to the remainder). When all digits have been processed and no remainder is left, the process is complete.
caring only about arriving at the correct answer
You then have 25 minutes to complete 20 questions.
quickly
doesn’t matter
if you cheated
just did you bubble in the correct circles
in fact as i write
they’re probably teaching him
the correct way to hold a pencil
the correct way to draw his letters
the correct way to sit silently
accept boredom as intrinsic to education
the correct way to kill curiosity
and intellectual creativity.
*All random facts come from Wikipedia (as they usually do).
cialis
poetryeven if i were on cialis,
which i’m not,
how would i make use
of my newly re-found talent
when we’re each sequestered
in our own porcelain prison,
sitting outside,
side by side,
but so far apart.
reflections on frustrating classes that won’t talk
poetryi can’t get through to you
and i don’t know if i will;
and for the moment at least,
all i know to do is watch
football late into the night,
and to drink sunkist,
mixed with bad vodka,
because it’s the only option.
Haiku
poetryScent of pigskin wafts
Through brisk and refreshing air.
Football has arrived!
skipping seasons
poetrythe air has turned cold
but we’re missing
that autumn scent
leaves, somewhere,
burning in barrels
and i’m suddenly afraid
my ears will never soak in
that scent again.
Taken in to consideration.
poetryFuck following
the guidelines
on these, as well as
other things.
Grab a wrench and ditch
the training wheels.
The things you remember
are not the smooth
coats of paint, but the
textured mess on the
kitchen wall.
Let’s do something nebulous.
senryu?
poetryarmed with highlighter
and xeroxed articles
we’ll transform truth.
the sieve and the sand 
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