April 18, 2014

Oh God

We should be less concerned with God
And more concerned with Heart Disease

The latter has taken more from me than- God knows.

Anyway, anyone can buy a one way ticket to him with a simple diagnosis;
However, we are more fearful of the “devil” and “ghosts”.

These two things do not exist.
Things that do exist: birth, names, and death;

Let me explain:

A pill is forgotten
She is two weeks late
***
A child is born
Hard familiar debate

His name is: “Jesus Christ”
He sounds so nice,

Like Billy Pilgrim
Like Marla Singer
Like Rosencrantz and Guildenstern
Like Of Men and Mice (or vice versa)

Headache appeal
Only apropos

As the “Second coming of the Lord”

Righteous abolishment of abortion
In attempts at fruition
Bacon on the back burner
To slow the heart murmurs

Band-Aids
For exacting stitches

They used to say the cart before the horse
Now, they designate fiction for logic and reason.

***

Prologue

We have seen family members pass on,
We have never seen the devil

Why wouldn’t a person make an empirically objective observation?
–we’ve heard stories,
One can tell.

April 15, 2014

“The Apple Capital”

This town
Under bluffs of a river valley

Ancient trees
Fixed in rich dirt of sediment

Through the
Sandstone foundation of long forgotten
Specters under the sky
Incarnation of this “American Dream”

Their progeny haunt
Stalk
Past the dying brilliance
Of traditional affairs

–The audacity of Business
Gathering
From the land
Of which they do not own
–the view
That warns
The conscious being

A vast distance between states
Two, as splendid
Establishment in the new frontier
Dust to flesh

Once whited maps
Growing with pride
Now what it stood for is merely a novelty

April 14, 2014

wie zum sterben

Monologue of Lovers;
One contends never to exist, as is necessity of endearing Conversationalists.
Words castes, molds, and shows what’s to discover of each other.

Touch of the Shut-in,
Cold frost thoughts mingled, with those of a summer’s mist.
Running through to grounds around, hark to those akin.

Designed to hold Time,
A clock’s arms link-locked tight tense to tick.
Shoe gazers watch cracks to find prized dimes in the mix.

Disintegrating at pure elegance,
She dances early day just to pull on a dress and necklace.
Proper smile outlined deep red to impress, enacting her relevance.

Lack of audacious Antidote,
A self-wound wrapped bound left to forget.
Layers that bond only to be pulled in two; torn, and then reset.

Absolutist human likely assumed close to the rest;
Comprised of simple puzzles, a simple life -of to think and act- while we stand in ‘present-tense’.

-Until our bell’s been rung for eternal rest.

And at that day,

In so many ways

Others will speak with passionate pride and distraught sentiment.

But we won’t.

 

***

The voice decays into oblivion with the body.  

April 10, 2014

The Sense of Morgen

Morning language of foreign affairs
Out the door, across the lawn
A man lip-syncs silent frustrations
Coming light exposes woken dawn

From afar becoming freshly shaven
Supple smooth shining firm at distant sight
Exposed shoulders soft warm- they smolder
Bending and twisting with purposeful might

Flattened fur amongst fallen fodder
Stepping past on sprung gait fore longed
Hesitate to walk, they jump at a ponder
A flock of Birds sing their sweetly song

Traverse moving, coming forth
Up the stairs straight along the rail
I come passing through the door
Winds up blowing leaves as a sail

Dimmed light inside; night, upon the daily rags
I grab one staggering past as a lady bends
Hands pull and from the rack this pulp drags
Front cover to see what this issue lends:

Of riots it talks, never had that haughty celebration
Of pay it talks, we aim to change the penurious situation
Of development it talks, can we mount this station for payment?
Of research it talks, for progress searching for inspiration

Take a seat and read, the day’s been made
Take some time to think of all these claims.

***
This rests in between reality and not.

April 7, 2014

Warm Daydream

Lofty clouds amassed,
Images of which to defuse
Hung high mingled against cool inoffensive air
Robin’s eggshell-blue lay o’er matted grass hard hazel hue,

Horizon wears;
Faded fable
Collecting odd glares
As the willing and able

Constantly circling the direction of perched Cock,
High, going all spun round
-Unknowing
Oh, please come down, a sight not to mock

Shut-up, shut-in, sit straight, out of side-
What was impossible is now probable and ascribed

Fond apathy now bruised- speak of senses, sneakers: tied shoes- dried and rash, none could chance a comparison for truth

Left those pedestrians and people-watchers completely confounded; light thought that drowns the senses, unawares and confused.

April 4, 2014

Cash for Compromise

Local daily rags adorned capital paid ads
Words minced in between seldom seem
Pin-prick point disorder has been had
Cash for incompetence, that’s wastefully redeemed

One needs a paper shredder for some sort of pleasure
This old-time failing marketer’s scheme upon me
From what I’ve seen there are no stories to treasure
Eyes on the prize, a fat hand full of cash it gleans

Politics and stance change like the weather
The reader is the one losing sight of what’s seen
You read this, you read that; for the assumed equal measure
Avert inquisitive eyes, these lines of falsehood reign supreme

But what I ask in my own research is:
Who is pulling strings behind the scenes?

As one can say in full-view glory
It feels wonderful to produce an untainted story.

 

Who pays you?

Who writes your stories?

Are they the same person?

March 31, 2014

Little Bug (Common Cold)

Little bug you have me
Inside my head you go
Fired up within me
On malign mission you roam

Little bug you affect me
Causing cough and wet wheeze
Sneezes round, forth, up and down
In bed reposed I be

Little bug you make me ill
Few days more with these chills
Across the floor staggering at will
Consuming small round white pills

Little bug you wilt me so
Pale skin starts at a show
Pinked whites of eyes, yellow gunk below
Tight tangled blankets of twill I’m rolled

Little bug you surprise me so
Coming at this very time
Never thought I’d see the warmth gain
While you terrorize my mind

Little bug I’ll set you free
In just a few weeks I’ll be back to me
You make me cold, I shake and moan
Persistence stands, you shall see- as you go

From strong and loud to meek fragile bones
From days about to stuck in grey clouds with this common cold.

March 26, 2014

Ms. Price

The Matriarch of Thought
Standing once, again, at the front, near porous mind’s space
Stay at the cusp of those taught tangled tangibles.
Yet now I am
Her words, weighted moving out,
Stopping, at the presence
Of lofty stagnant aired room, scented perfume, bouncing off eggshell walls
And the aged dust of those pupils.

March 24, 2014

Extimate

Change your mind;

Grow-progress

 

Shift in your seat

Move your feet

Better your posture

Be discrete

 

And before you forget

Exist like the rest

 

Bent on sediment

Bent on sediment

Bent on sediment

Present tense.

March 21, 2014

Conscious Continued

On the State Level:

What is Freedom without Oppression?

 

Sunday liquor sales we don’t mention

Exclusive capital through resource retention

Taking the environment without apprehension

Marijuana is off the books because opiates pay pensions

 

Then we walk with hanging heads

Then we eat what we’ve been fed.

***

Paper collection friendships

Corporations part of a faceless community

But they have our president’s holy graces*

Existence thriving in high places so astutely

 

Their tree bearing tainted fruit

That is only being eaten by the ignorant and aloof.

 

***

As I am:

 

Taking the bus to work

Wearing same dirty old shirt

While not putting on airs

Not pretending unawares

 

Liars hold more account on the politician’s ear

Forsaken bent sinewy grotesque and clear, yet standing tall they still appear.

 

***

The trains roll through the station

But my Amtrak is late

Here’s to frack mines devastation

The passengers will wait

 

This one has been delayed

On to better days

Money rolls in, they can’t differentiate

But we must remain

 

Priorities not for minorities

A lesson in disgrace

Haven’t read the history

But what’s important before today’s date?

 

One could tell a story

And call it reality too

One could fly a sign

In hopes of attaining food

 

Desk sit forty hours

No wonder why I’m rude

Don’t count the flowers

Straighten up that rebellious attitude

 

That’s all.

 

This is local-

They appear global-

 

What about America?

What about global hysteria?

 

*Currency

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