trying to find the center
August 10, 2010
alone is different than lonely
but god I tell you I am both
and am walking ’round in circles, here
trying to find the center
and this is a true account of my days
written here for you to see
as usual, and of course
I can’t let go of the words, oh
what’s more is you can have all my stuff
i don’t care about much anymore
but i miss your dog, i miss your dog
yeah yeah, yeah yeah, etc
but if you wanted me (and you don’t)
I would’ve saved you yes I would
but your love is such a weighty lie
your love is just a sucker game.
untitled
July 31, 2010
admittedly, i found your body
in a shallow grave in my backyard
i was shaking like a lost child
your body smoking like a fallen star
driving through shitty towns drunk
July 20, 2010
inside you is a tension
from the building up of steam
and you won’t just let go of it
for that would be obscene
you pretend that you are limber
so to all it can be seen
yet you are just a child, dear
just-a waiting to be free’d
so come and take a ride with me
away from your sick dream
i’ll teach you how to lift the world
and put it down, where you please
see the colors of the void
and then, too, of the leaves
think about the higher things
and sit up in the trees
let all of our love out
and let it flow
in-between.
Coffee
June 19, 2010
Not that there is an alternative, even though there are many
Who’s bittersweetness strikes faster, stays longer;
Not that I need to stay up for him, as hours drip
Into fat puddles of late night tv and limbs that shift
Like a seabed under their blankets. His charm isn’t
Worth sacrificing the house-wine for, initially.
If I help him along a bit, maybe?
Drop a sugar-cube, add some cream or milk.
Give the Atlantic back its icebergs. Yet not that
He’d notice: Curse the lactose intolerant!
There comes a time, when everything warm in
This world, gets lost in the Arctic. There comes a
Time, when the cat by the fire duly notes its place.
And despite knowing this, I drink a little faster;
And I, having tasted what I have tasted
With eyes that have known to stay open,
To the richest and the boldest, I am still a tourist
To be seen in coffee-shops by a clearer lens.
While I am this slow sipper in this
Place of eternal happy-hour: every new mouthful
Is a new land to see.
Kraus! Oh Schnitzler and Toberg;
Come on, oh come home with me.
haiku
May 22, 2010
one cause leads to the effect:
like coffee to poo;
like me loving you.
Modern Love
May 9, 2010
I am walking bare foot
Over chalky concrete
Then it happens-
An unexpected downpour
Blogs, millions of them
Pelt down
You’re by the post office
I can see you
Standing there, brooding
Peeling off my soppy jacket
The blogs, frenzied
Drench my shirt underneath
I’m getting closer though
Not far now,
Maybe a football field
But then the clouds smirk
And down plunge the
Social networking sites
Nothing stays dry
They’re loaded, malicious
Each drop a smack on the head
Crisp leaves soak them up
Soak me up
I’m half way to swimming
A few feet ahead of me,
Vague text messages
Hit the pavement like bullets
A few feet ahead of you
A white wall of water hangs
Dancing like a drying sheet
Smacking shards and droplets
Away from my face
I look out, searching
You’re gone, walked inside
Posting something?
In transit
And I’m there
Sewer rat, dripping
Typetitypetype.
If our love opened a restaurant
March 27, 2010
If our love opened a restaurant
I seriously doubt it would stay
In business longer than a month
The décor would be a nightmare.
Clashing tones and tints competing
With lampshades something ill
Sitting patiently for a waiter to
Take your order would be like
Waiting for the next apocalypse
The chairs would grate against your
Soul like Monday morning, with its
Hard reality and lack of support
The music, (if they have any at all)
I imagine would be like Grandma’s
Lounge-room jazz- but more dreary
Don’t expect a warm smile with
Your service. The waiters are busy
And don’t have time to amuse.
If our love opened a restaurant
I seriously doubt it would stay
In business longer than a month
But did I mention the food?
Oh! The food is positively divine.
Abba
March 24, 2010
Between bent blinds
Kaleidoscoping the balmy afternoon sidewalk
A small boy snaps the latch of his helmet
Sandy-hair in protruding tufts around the edges
With watermelon smile he climbs on his bicycle
Absent of training wheels—discarded in the lawn
Shakily he pedals forward, adding quickening speed
But while looking back for his father’s adulation
In a moment of jubilance he forgets his balance
His plump-lipped grin drowned by dilated pupils
Watching bright red handlebars ripple and swerve
Pitching him forward onto the sunburned cement
Tangled appendages and twirling aluminum spokes
Are instantly charged by his monitoring father
Retrieving a bawling boy from the wreckage
Firm forearms hold the trembling mass to his chest
Offering unreserved comfort to his fallen child
And beyond the window he mouths the words
It’s okay, it’s okay, you’ll be all right
The sobbing subsides and the father gently brushes
Asphalt scorched elbows and pebbled palms
Before kissing moist, ruddy, and chubby cheeks
And the boy nods his bulbously helmeted head
Together they salvage his bicycle upright
His father grasps tightly to the colored bars
As the boy confidently, with his father’s help
Remounts his position onto the plastic seat
Stepping back the father examines his courageous son
Who taking a deep breath recovers his pert smirk
His deliberate eyes narrowing as he looks onward
In the faith that his father will follow him every step
And with every tick and churn of the tire spindle
Direct his journey along the uneven sidewalks
That should he falter, his father without question
Will unconditionally come to his child’s rescue
All we have to do, is trust
loveless (or call the dogs off, jesus)
March 17, 2010
nothing can be more appealing
to me than the beauty of a woman;
i see in her figure, and in her form,
(or what she shows me of it)
the chesapeake, the rockies,
the sky.
however, much unlike a good book,
or an album,
the insides of a human are
much less appealing than the
outside. i venture to say:
this anomaly is not found
outside of our personal
shared condition.
the slow and painful stuttering
dive of disinterest that forms
once cracking open the spine
of one of these most
appealing vixens.
i hear the retorts of a million
dead poets in my ears, the
sheepish cry of billions
of single-celled
omnivorous,
monogamous,
thoughtless populi screaming:
but for love!
oh, i hear you all,
all of you shape-shifting spineless
oafs,
willing to subject yourself to
untold ignorances under the
name of some vague emotional
and societal ploy.
i say,
we have multiplied
many times over,
jesus,
now call the dogs off.
i am loveless.
scorpion poem
October 13, 2009
i thought, bri
efly of killing
my0
self
after that lo
ve poem
i wr
wr
wrote you
just to make a completely and all-together somewhat opposite kind of point
and
i sup
pose that is the pa
rt of me that
ne
ne
ne
ne
eds to die,
isn’t it
darling?
i love women too much
October 12, 2009
there are electric storms
birthed by chemical wars
that are caused by electric storms
birthed by the very same wars
and so on,
and so forth,
they come from my eyes
when i see your lips,
face,
legs,
thighs,
emotions which
can
not
be
wise
are now driving my extremities
i now feel i’m in my seventies
looking out the window dreaming
of being touched somewhere
inappropriate for once
because i
love
women
too
much.
it’s complicated
March 18, 2009
i know your love
should be the only thing
that matters but
how can i truly KNOW that
when i’ve heard of nothing
in this entire universe
dependent upon a solitary necessity?
even a flower needs
sundry more than the sun’s rays
like chlorophyll and shit
the people they just talk in their sleep
February 13, 2009
strap yourself in
you are in this for the long haul
your eyes can only see
ahead of you and your
legs can only jump so high
so tighten those straps,
buddy
it’s gonna be a long haul.
everyone else will be asleep
we suggest you do the same
let the ends
justify the means
get on that pole
and dance
with your mouth shut.
what a way to go down
January 22, 2009
write it down all you’d like
lose your self and your
face in the crowd
or sew your mouth shut;
the buildings yet to
be knocked down
blocking out the sun,
the gray clouds holding you
down like giant nets
foreboding and advancing.
for the chains i drag with me
September 30, 2008
i am so tired
of the trading of paper
and the loving of traitors
and the words that they staple
words oh so hateful
to the trees made of maple
ever so faithful
and i am so tired
of the silence pervasive
after the laughs have all faded
the glances we traded
i hope i can save it
wont try to escape it
or find love belated
and i am so tired
and probably always will be
for the chains i drag with me
rcribay
joshuagrace
freakynewchild
Tucker J. Collins
saxsquatch
David X. Hugo
larsalexander
tynedaile
