ANGUISH/ RENEWAL

June 1, 2018

It’s the quicksand edge of a rain squall

It’s a sick man on the ledge of it all

It’s the shore shifting in a violent fright

In a midnight storm

In a maybe might/

A long winter before the glint and glimmer

of words onto daybreak’s birdsong,

When enough renewal’s  been suffered to,

Enough burning and churning and yearning

has been laboured through

( from 12/06)

 

“Mental anguish always results from the avoidance of legitimate suffering.”
― Stefan Molyneux

CHOSEN PRE-DAWN ALCHEMY

February 1, 2017

 

 

There’s some/
Confusion/ some/ frustration
Smack immersed  in blue smoke,
Go check up the projection booth.
“I couldn’t  and  shouldn’t
Have ordered this show.
And that’s just  truth.”

Way  wrong epic screenplay
Is not long enough.
If there’s subtle subtext
It’s lost in the rough.
We know how helpful laughtracks go,
My own master is so diasterly low
It’s just too private a joke.

I’ve known
You’ve drawn yr own conclusions.
My own solutions are silly as  shepherds are  asea.

Desires and Go-forth fires   I’m put out.
Dire old deserts. It’s cold certainly.
I’ve a drought to drink about.
For me, chosen, pre-dawn alchemy,
Actually,
Chosen, is  a good chaser.

I B I S

July 10, 2016

“Just be quiet and sit down/The reason is you are drunk/And this is the edge of the roof”                                                                                                                       -RUMI

“…And be prepared to bleed”   -Joni Mitchell, from “I Could Drink A Case Of You”

.

They spin me ’round  one time, two

At three, they scattered then, their laughter

Left with them, leaving me to

Compose  myself

To something that may matter

.

2

There’s Ibis outside, on my back lawn, my rain.

And I have

To photograph them there,

Then, stage the image at DeviantArt or Flickr,

Where some drummer will steal it

(good eye & hand talent, w/the accent on eye)

Then, those Ibis will be  re-staged

On their “releasable” CD cover,

Or maybe on his big bass drum.

Maybe if I was loaded or dumb

I’d upload it to Facebook

So high school “friends” (we kept it mum)

May be bored enough snoops…

They’ll  see my birds,

Then back,  Away.  Poof

I’ll snoop myself/ Craigslist for free

“Missed Connections” is the only place

To see who’ve noticed your face

And wanted you,  destinyly.

 

 

Lost light  looks in

Falls in  off my ownly window

& Stays on my wall-stocked stairwell

& Steers over  my bar  for mirror play

.

Yes I’d probably yield to my propensity,

As today embarks,

To do a darkumentary

Chronicling my chromatic day

 

20160407_114141 (1)

At, um, elevenish,

a trumpet dumbs up & slows down

that pendulum wiper Swish

(a trying heaven’s muted trumpet)

goes down to ease up at least this town swish

& that conundrum  That one goes down

some

.

my vitals are stabler/ I’ll stay more at peace/

I’ll stay here

while  rain & dark run on

on down some

RECENT NOTES ON THE REVIVAL

October 29, 2015

Aw heck, I may let the bottles stack up

Yet, I got the mettle to

Keep the cat box, the dishes, the dirty deathwishes

All Clean.

.

.

For most of this month

Far lost family/ Lost loves

Are all in town/ All at once

I didn’t hear mention

Of a  come ’round  convention

To note  I’ve come’round myself some

To a sort of shortening survival balm.

But I  might note that loves  right here  some  awhile

Just need my focus.  & calm.

Must want my chanting on their smile,

It’s hard chanting for a heart to sing

Against that roar of a scattering  maelstrom

A heart’s distraction thing

ENNUI DANCE

October 24, 2015

“..Just a beer light to guide us..”   – David Bowie

“And this is the simple truth–that to live is to feel oneself lost”  – Soren Kierkegaard

 

 

G L I M P S E

A trance makes its appearance here  as

placid lakes  pull fog up tight,

elsewhere perfect light there

sets to  subtle sonatas

for  Dance,

for ponderance  and if

tucked not too loud in a cloud.  tonight

if  OK  I guess I may  get my own drift.

Or    glance.

.

.

.

.

.

.          (old rhyme in a box,2008)

.

These  agonies, stowed loud  to stoic  quiet,

Annoy her, as if their noise could be heard,

Annoy her,  every word,

Every imaginable syllable

And though a throw-away joke…

She’ll attest is a thrust attack,

Jeez  these agonies

Have me taken aback

Have me taking pills & drink to swill ’em back.

ONE RUN AWAY A DAY

September 22, 2015

For where I’ve furtively gone

To see the sideshow again

A short glass is poured/

His suitcase secured/

Usual confusion loosens all the stops

To go  &  forgo this wait   or aim to

Get out the gate   and on to

The Big Top.

.

.

.

.                          (from half a dozen years ago, but still not a lie)

LOUD AS L

August 31, 2015

Had to be night

in the bad lighting.

A man & his medicine, 1st draught;

Cold staring down, living down

the old man thing.

“Don’t drown”, as I left

(trying not to laugh)

“Sure, Sometimes it’s subtle..”

trying to stop me,

“Lately, it’s loud as lightning”

(loud as lightning)

.

Me, I strive to survive

(Thankfully, I’ve sanctuaries)

I’ll settle on women in warm dreams

& settings,  And when we get up

& stride big strides on sidewalks

for forests; Rousseau ferns, fiery blossoms,

& placid lions. like us.

.

.

.

.                                   (from 09)