Wednesday, August 13, 2014

I wrote a poem for the lovely Miss Alice Thompson, a talented pianist whose work I highly recommend. A link will be added to the sidebar for future access. Thank you to those who continue to support me!

Sunday, June 15, 2014

Saturday, May 31, 2014

Paumanok Path II

treading off the beaten path into a clearing of fallen trees
and wild grass; the birds form a rhythm

rheeee rheee rheeee--krik chur chur bdbdbdeeeee--duhdudhduhduh
(woodpecker joins in)

"Aspen 35" (my pack)


chuuuurp! chuuuurp! jerp jerp jerp bdbdbdbdeeee chee!

\---------------------------------------------------------------------/

currently sitting upon old concrete base
that used to support a radio tower, I listen to a bird softly cry
wweeeeeee hhoooooo; scraggly pines surround me in the stillness
--only ants remain the busiest members of the forest


and I think of Kerouac's Tic Sketches, "…he thought he was learning everything--
& has learned but decay only--& sadness of partings--"

Thursday, May 29, 2014

Walking Thru Black Doors

no matter how many times he took the acid reducer
the angelfish continued to swim in his stomach
it was most likely the thought of her
black licorice hair and eyes and how cold their depths were
he began collecting seashells and whiskey bottles to stow the pain
many times he bathed in these vices until all went dark

he no longer dreamed of sugar plums and fairies
but of slick ice skaters in sky blue leotards
friends and coworkers swam around his vacant smiles and
never offered him sweets during the holidays
he didn't mind so long as the wheels in his knees
kept turning; so long as he kept turning

one night a fire burned inside his mind that he could not extinguish;
whiskey could not douse these flames
in a mournful rage he destroyed the seashells he collected over the past year
the morning after he lay in the remnants of his sick obsession
tossing tooth sized shards into an angry box fan, licking his lips his troubles began to fade
at night, in bed, he couldn't decide who wrote the Bible
and watched as cattle shaped shadows strut passed his eyes

"Walking Thru Black Doors" spoken word piece

Saturday, May 10, 2014

Until Our Shores Meet

beautiful boy, what road are you going?
grim tidings put up spotty wallpaper

in this mess of a room

chilling words cause me to break out in sweat
we have things to do and say and create!

beautiful boy, do not leave me standing

beside the road; how wild the world is
in which we have been born and swam thru

beautiful boy, you keep afloat

Thursday, May 8, 2014

Liquidizing My Assets

I AM EMBALMED WITH MILKY LONELINESS--MY FEARS-FLOATING SATELLITES WHICH SPARKLE BRILLIANT SHADES OF GOLD AND MY ANXIETIES-FALLEN PEARS; REPLACEABLE. SEPARATING SELF FROM SELF IS WHAT DID IN THE EMPIRES BEFORE US--WHO, THEN, CAN SAVE US?! WE SHALL SAVE TIME BY MASTURBATING IT ALL AWAY--I HEARKEN TO NO MAN BUT TO ANGELS AND DEMONS WHOSE QUARRELS BROUGHT ON THE EXTINCTION OF REPTILIAN RACES.

boiled eggs on the stove remind me that someone is out there watching over me, waiting to pull me close to suck the saltiness out of my tears. What a lonely mountain I have made of myself!--unclimbable by anyone but myself--in those rare moments where I show myself to be a good man. Pour your pepper love on me, it shall help soften my heart.

God save the queen.

Prussian endeavors--hips sweep up what's left over--silky embrace with low groans of a spastic foghorn
Woo!--loop de loop!--Forever singed by her acidic smile--oh no!--cement weights because after all, why knot?

Kept it at a fluctuating (72-83) speed--couldn't help but rifle thru splintered crypts assuming I'd find
the answer to your darling question [will you marry me]--you taste like vibrant colored gum balls--I
let the mink go--it's beady eyes joy incarnate--does that strengthen your resolve?

"Just wanted to let you know that i LOVE YOU SON. [xo] praying 4 you always"

strong willed women on the nape of my neck--what have you to say to the dead and dying?--I will not burden such with bricks of clay; heavy--EVERYTHING MUST BE STANDARDIZED!--FOR THERE IS ALWAYS A WRONG WAY TO DO SOMETHING.

Tuesday, April 29, 2014

the white rice is boiling

the white rice is boiling on the stove
inability to spring beauty from my bones

weighs heavy like beers and bowling balls
I carried one cold December night

Wednesday, April 23, 2014

The Tulip Prince

detachment is my most prized possession
I keep it close to my body;

tulip princes marvel and bow

descent of dark entities smothers my dreams
driving me further from you and you

and you and you and you

Tuesday, April 8, 2014

brass chimes sing for me;
peeling paint from ten year old planks--
wide-brimmed weed shies next to a stone;
illuminated voices of the birds;
I am worn slate hidden from home

Monday, April 7, 2014

Conversing With Sparrows And Crows

curious sparrows flutter
to the open door [of the car];

looking up at me looking down at them

before flitting away in
surprise at my presence

crow lands atop the door
cocking his head at me;

looking for food?

their curiosity matches my own;
what language do you speak?