GREEN GLASSHOUSE

May 3, 2020

 

 

 

 

abandonedgreenhouse1

I  see  I  settled

It would faintly be a  fate

(Freedom, comes a sweet release)

But I had settled

With   wait.

.

Where our hours had  hard like hours

And landfilling them

Sets the sadder shadowed facets of silence

To  stem.

.

Hey, yr own old whore,

Before you defile

Yr dreamily dark greenhouse

Pitching

Both  words and stark sticks & stones,

Get a hard look

On each hard paned reflection

ENTWILIGHTENMENT

February 13, 2020

In Nightstreams;

Characters cast into indecipherable scripts

All are strangers

To stare at, to starve for,

More, to promptly forget.

And Daydreams;

Live characters I’ve cared fiercely for

Live  too far enough I know  away in shadows

To re know/ to re have/ to re love

In this half life

u n e a s y

January 31, 2020

ONE,  he’s  awoken/

Uneasy & broken some night scenes still/

He’s soaked, & might seem shaken/

He sees  he seems  he’s shaking/

He wanders Up for water/

She says he should shower/

He sits with her in his chair.  still/

She said soon She’ll come back to our sleeproom

When She’s tireder./

He requests & requires her/

To pull along  the most merciful cat,/

The kindest cat.

.

.

TOO,  You liked it I bet./

I lit yr. cigarette,/

A gesture I saw up late./

.

.

Our love of olives,/

Sweet cheeses,  lime,/

We’ll have avocados/

We’ll  happily  dare/

Shiny,  stilllife   apples, bare,/

We’ll  halve  them./

.

.

I’ll have  yr. crucial kisses/

(Mainly making me manly) Crucial kisses/

Are as crucial as/

Hard candies/

In a Grande Hotel for Grannies./

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CRUMBLED SOME

December 7, 2019

It’s more than a coincidence
That “pillow” rhymes/w “shadow”.
If I had to,
& the sense to know how,
I’d set the darkest dreams aside.
If I lied some, & thought those things
As tied up,
I’d fake it some, I’d hope some
For a wide enough merciful break,
& loosening rope,
& in this broken cup
I hold my spirits up.

“Very little grows on jagged rock/Be grounded/Be crumbled/So wildflowers will come up” -Rumi

cupstone

BETTER BET

October 12, 2019

Maybe I can meet you

After my shift, hell after all my shifts

I’ll come to you from the usual dark

The black from the outside

Will brighten some on your skin

We’ll be less dissatisfied

.

.

If  when  we  go  off

With all of our ghosts, when we lift

We’ll come to ditch the usual dark

That black from outside

With more tempered dreams to venture

To be less dissatisfied

There’s this secret I’ve kept  so discreet
From lovers, & brothers, & mothers.
I’ve mis managed to become  so mum
It was only clearer to me
After self therapy
The other day, or another.
.
From this encompassing dream,
I finally wanted
All the solid things I was sold to get,
When it’s important to want one.
.
I Get
Silk batik ties, Italian silk shirts,
Dead men’s tweed jackets,
Dry cleaned, & all in the closet.
.
I Wait For And Get
Too new Peter & P.J., Gabriel and Harvey,
Unheard of, they’re still in their jacket.
Too new Laurie Anderson, Richard Thompson,
Unheard of, they’re still in their jacket.
.
I Waited For & Get a
Big Bio book of Elliott Smith,
and the case is still closed
.
I Get
New Yorker’s
Drawings & Captions
All of them (All these years)
Data on disc
unplayed & unsmiled to. (sadly)
I Got
New Yorker’s
Drawings & Captions
The Board Game…
.
..
Why I With-hold
All that pleasure,
I haven’t a clue.
It’s half-like half-holding love
At arm’s length,
& watching it do

.

.

.

.

.                                                               (FROM 10 YEARS BACK)

Brand new website without all those effin adverts, commercial interruptions,

basically uninvited strangers. distracting us

But You…I re-invite you

So if you are subscribed.. subscribe again!  there’s gotta be a subscribe button somewhere

I’m at   namelessneedblog.com

(just drop the wordpress)

(I think there must be a mailbox there too I’m thinkin)

if you wanna paste me into favorites (where I was before, right?)    I paste easy enough

let me spill my guts for you guys. like Tom Waits sings “Step Right Up!”

far-flung near

December 3, 2018

far-flung bits thereabouts

are gone as nowhere is

friends who’ve fled, I’ve cared about them

can surface, fish

bubbles, sun-lined,

but stream-lined washing by.

fled friends & lovers come by,

off the map,

if the hour is late enough

for the final nightcap

I guess there’s a blur there on

my best point-of-vistas

that insists

that remnants that wear on

.

.

.

.

Imaginary Friends, My Readers listen up
December 7, 2018
Brand new website without all those effin adverts, commercial interruptions,
basically uninvited strangers. distracting us
But You…I re-invite you
So if you are subscribed.. subscribe again! there’s gotta be a subscribe button somewhere
namelessneedblog.com
(just drop the wordpress)
(I think there must be a mailbox there too I’m thinkin)
if you wanna paste me into favorites (where I was before, right?) I paste easy enough
let me spill my guts for you guys. like Tom Waits sings “Step Right Up!”

F L I N T

August 30, 2018

In the “quiet time” the hospital designates

When visitors gotta go

Ok so I opened a Modelo

& vacuumed the space between the davenport

& the coffee table where you like us to eat

& dared some dreams of arson

Oh I sat easy enough at one half of a love seat

I wouldn’t want  to reread Kant

On  Duty  and  Obligation

I’d doubt he’d sway me

His hard ass way

The escape  dreams prefer are fire escapes

 

Go get only things you can carry

Stand up straight  Cast straight shadows

One effin  flick of flint

Can  brighten  bad  roads

 

 

BREATHING EXERCISES

August 11, 2018

She won’t roll away & not watch me.

Y’see, I won’t seem to take…

When I dream (or wake),

To take another breath before

The scene fades, before

Lights go up,

Then down to more of a zoom.

She waits in our bedroom for me to resume.

.

II.

We went to go to a yoga class.

Where a barefooted, hair-pleated group leader;

Beautiful, and calmer than a

Merciful last coma,

She insisted that our deep breath is

The gist of all of it (within, & out).

We rearrange the short & tall of it.

The Gist to change the depth, see,

Of our sea of possibility.

When we inhale

We re-memorize our own gods.

We exhale our hell. barefoot. on a mat.

Whew. To that.

.

III.

When I get to go to the Gulf of Mexico

I’ll try out the drink, 1st thing.

I’ll try not to think when I try to let go

& sink when I deadman’s float all day,

Into what I think of as a spiritual drift, in a way.

I’ll hold onto my own breath,

Face down,

Head down.

,