Archive for July, 2012

July 31, 2012

Completely Consumed/The Human Problem

Your choice matters.

One day at a time-every moment counts.

You will know at a point.

 

It will be a sharp pain.

Like the first time you put a needle in your arm.

It will be noted.

It has a special charm.

 

Sedated smile.

 

In December when the heat goes out.

In July when the AC stop running.

Appreciation is funny.

 

Smile, appreciation is funny.

 

laissez-faire obsession.

Careless martinet.

Impeccable maladroit.

Remembering everything to forget.

 

Architect of abandonment.

 

Highly, effectively, useless at this juncture.

We can have lunch here, brother.

 

Displayed at the zoo, for all to see, fool.

 

Stammer-howl-drool.

 

For all to see,

 

-Fool!

 

We need this! (They stand yelling from afar as they throw you raw meat)

Deal, eat!

 

Cocaine cleanliness.

Your coffee before my nap.

This doesn’t work out.

 

That’s how I feel.

 

We have nothing to talk about.

That is what we have in common.

 

Freshly shaven, hair-cutted bum, sitting on a sandy beach.

Dead and covered in money.

No problems in the least.

 

And you talk at work, as your house sits vacant for all emptiness to see.

 

And some pages are never painted with the light of day

And some people don’t think marriage is gay.

Ridiculous trees.

 

Humans have got it all figured out.

-Over and out.

 

 

July 30, 2012

Read this in September 2007

A door shuts.

She walks up.

Look, stare.

No big deal.

The temperature is nice, but it holds no entendre.  

Shuffling towards one another, precarious bags in hand.

The last time.

The only time.

The most important thing to remember.

This time.

Scanning the horizon for a comet; hoping, praying that this moment you share is eternity.  

What was it like again?

Like:

The calls.

The empty promises.

5 years of love.

We maligned each other, both, but what of it now?

It is really unimportant, because we are a single subject.

Experiences are better when they are experienced with a loved one, but I doubt it counts when leaving relations.  

Hint:

Hint of depravity; a social entity with no other facet.

Black and white; straight-line logic.

Weed out the grey-

This is the only way.

What happens today, happens.

Haven’t checked the planner in weeks, time keeps moving on and no one notices.  

What we feel:

It stays.

We don’t.

You envision what might happen, but after that moment there is nothing.

Left with just that.

-Just that and a thought-

Rigidly stuck to a plan, over and out.

We talk, yeah…

10-4, over and out.

We used to touch, take in, and cop feels.

Now that is in a field, buried under years of dust, dirt, and debris.

All stuff.

What was.

All that lot of what doesn’t really change or affect, the change in effect.

Effective, but… f u c k it.

All that confidence for nothing, this can’t be trained.  

An Eternal embrace, and then its over.

A car rolls out, and away in the distance.

You are in a car of your own but its crashing.  That car is your mental status.

You stand, taking in the sound, sight, and smell of things.

Hold your breath in deep, sigh, its a nice night anyway.

The sun may look beautiful, the sky may be a brilliant blue.  Evening.  Clouds, many colors of the spectrum float above an all important sinking orb.

It has no meaning to you.

It has no meaning to you.

You think of one thing.

We may not be this close again.

Distant, like traveling abroad, but there is a line.

Still, the line is drawn.

Stated.

Overstated.

Underestimated.

Lost it.

Nothing could make it better.

You can’t fix the best.

-Winning the lottery, even success-

Nothing is better.

The loss is deeper than either.

You were a king, looking over your land-missing all the wonderful assets that rested just below your perch.

Laughing, you drank and disparaged your own, only to be lost and alone without them.

Criticizing the smallest flaw, but praying for its return after being bettered for aesthetics.

The insignificance of normalcy; detailed happenings that will play out, over and over again in your head.

As a pall-bearer walking toward stones, as the last conversation unfolds.  There will be a taste in your mouth. That is when you will know something is happening.

You understand.

In the pit of your stomach.

Now you understand.

On the verge of vomit.

The traces of trash, and ash, of self you left strewn about the room.

They loom.

Just things you don’t forget.

Tears stop, and after, your grace is replaced by a void.

Shadows that were, will hang at dusk and exist at sunrise as you were.

Sitting there, reminding you, waiting.

Lights-out will be a solemn and silent affair when it is realized that you are not there.

The walks we took, it is just me.

The places we would frequent, it is just me.

The movies, the books, and the lakes we sat, now, truly, it is just me.

So far from home, but you are at yours.

Eyes-look at the eyes.

Hard to focus on the details again.

Blackened sockets.

Squinting-shaking, failed attempt at holding it together.

Deep breaths again, wishing for pure-raw yet tamed emotion.

Animal instincts, but animals don’t  shed tears.

Green eyes, lit brilliantly with curiosity and surprise outlined with a fine dark pencil.

Clear and honest inside.

Waitress-“You are who you are.”

Me-“I know.”

She witnessed.

Something you don’t see regularly.

And it is goodbye.

Like I will be right back.

Scary movie.

Like see you later.

Abduction in the early 90’s.

Lay together in the sack.

Special features.

Quick retriever.

What we had, be happy for.

At times forget.

Everyone tells you things are better off.

But you can’t forget.

Everyone doesn’t deal with this daily.

Time flies when you are having fun, but the clock doesn’t run when what we had is done.

Solitude, solid chair, Big Ter, fixated, and agitated.

Excited, every minute.

Inching closer.

Closer to the inevitable.

I hope we don’t die, never to meet again.

My friend.

My friend.

I have done nothing like this before.

They call, they say they miss what we had.

Its different, as much as we don’t want to realize.

The change is noticed and what is noted most is melancholy.

The phone keeps ringing.

Fit for folly.

Smile, ride out on the punch line.

Nothing to smile about, apparently, close to a breakdown.

A smile is a frown if it is practiced.

Watching movies on the couch, playing solitaire in thought.

We used to lie together, love, fight, discuss, and borrow each other to never give back.

But you do take that with you when you leave.

But what you got might make you sore.

Even remembering as you walk through the grocery store, like she was right here, recently.

Chores to keep eating.

No longer yours.

No escape.

Might make it hard to swallow.

Might make the memories flood in.

New friends, new times, new experiences, but what about us?

The end is like the beginning; like before we didn’t meet, like after we don’t meet again.

What is to miss if it didn’t exist?

And I miss this moment, and the next, and the next, and the next….

And you…

And I remember the color of the car driving out and away with you in it.  I could smell fall coming as the wind blew against my   face.  I knew I was in for a cold winter.  I thought…

July 19, 2012

Innate Love

Lifestyles of the like are seldom centerpieces.

Mother still has hope.

Even though we reside so far from home.

 

We sit, we eat, we work, we cope.

We walk the black streets alone, insane.

She missed the prom as well.

 

Poorly lit lights and the physical descriptors never tell.

Gun shots in the distance moving near until we exit to a clear.

 

Where we exist, where we survive.

Closer to a described hell but far off from where we started.

Nightly news won’t tell the truth.

 

Lost facts of the bruised fruit.

They try to sell more as they gather a new and plentiful supply.

 

On my own.

On the phone.

 

These calls make me smile.

Father still has hope, but he doesn’t dial.

 

Seize the day.

 

Family a solid rock; not forgot.

Forget everyone else and remember self.

To wisdom and to health.

 

Such a child, all smiles.

 

No small town small time blues in these shoes.

 

All there is in the end.

All there is in the end.

 

A couple screws loose.

Just a drop in the bucket.

Tears to dust with no witness.

 

Subtly secluded.

Still rooted, a fixture, this mission.

A gifted life, but so ruthless.

 

Some walk toothless and stupid.

 

To keep real friends and real situations.

Understanding the pupils and process of dilation.

Palpable investigation to find, feel, and move.

 

A momentary aphasia.

Too nice to be rude.

 

Too ubiquitous to be stewed.

We can’t quite place it.

 

Our grandparents won’t speak.

Interrogating haunts for tangible clues.

 

We then get enthusiastic.

Remembering the details of the deceased.

 

Coming unglued.

 

With good intentions love, lovely familiarity.

Constantly with us (thankfully) until the end.

***

Too gifted with relative relations not to care, so there.

July 15, 2012

Her Name is Taken (part 1)

Her Name is Taken

 

Hard times are had when trying to not think of her.

Usually reading about the past, objectively.

Although that is subjective.

 

Imagination working overtime for peanuts.

 

Thoughts twist, bend, and crawl-toward me.

Hands outstretched.

Buzzing, like high, like climbing up the wall.

 

Like goodbye and don’t call.

Like Goodbye, don’t call.

 

Please.

 

Ring, ring, ring.

 

If looks could kill, the world would end at her feet.

If wits could kill, she should try to keep her mouth shut as to save us all.

 

She walks, talks, and knows everything.

 

A little girl looking for purity and compassion.

A boy in the same boat.

Imagining life-

Where only good things happen, and most decent things stay afloat.

 

Falling into view, though, my eyes frequently gaze to stall.

Everywhere, and all

Everywhere, and all.

Seeing everything and all.

 

Most hardly notice.

 

Blink, and the picture is lost…

 

Gone like the sun after dusk.

 

Like the wind.

 

So close to capturing a mythological being, but the wrought was for naught.

She’s a shapeshifter and compulsive drifter.

 

And she didn’t come with any of the special features neither.

 

Tug of war between teacher and believer.

Words and silence.

 

Diligent preacher lying for leisure.

Pupils to closed eyelids.

 

But the problem is meager.

Just meager.

 

***

 

Um, yeah…

What were we talking about again?

 

July 12, 2012

Her Name is Taken (part 2)

Two ears,

two eyes,

two feet,

two lives and two hands entwined.

 

Take a seat.

Rewind.

Take a seat.

Rewind.

 

Speak your mind.

 

Reminds me of yesterday.

Sit back and relax,

but don’t say a word.

Just sit back and relax.

 

She says it she means it.

Grass coming between us,

where our legs let us lie.

Smiles between our words, big surprise.

 

(And then I realize.  After all, I have to laugh cautiously in delight.)

 

 

Etched on myself, what’s been done is example.

 

Always reminding me.  Always right behind.

Always dying for a sample.

 

A child reaching up toward a counter top inches from salvation, someone standing in line dying waiting for medication.

 

You missed the bus, you show up late, but you barely changed the pace.

Everyone tells you.

Everyone knows.

 

Situations are full of misfortune, but something, rather someone, made my day.

Someone tells me.

God.

 

The only way to exist and keep on going is to take in the beauty and happiness from those you love in every single moment, in every way possible.   Nothing morbid.

 

There is never enough, its impossible.

 

I tell of just one story.

 

***

 

Labels are for losers not lovers.

 

Focus on the little things that aren’t so little anymore.

 

Don’t put too much time in to thought, more so confirmation and acceptance of the happenstance.

 

Love blossoms as time ticks, we age; we exist, and persist.

 

This is this.

Not that.

 

Presently you present me with ambition, a problem (I laugh), and excitement restricted, … Until next time apparently.

 

Best wishes and kisses.

 

***

 

I hope, I pray.  I have lost everything and I am not religious.

Since you left I have been writing non-stop and doing dishes.

 

-Pony (Terry) Nay

July 9, 2012

A Bum’s Bribe

Open minds change lives.

Am I burnt to a crisp?

 

Comfortably sitting skin deep as they weep.

 

All washed up in a drink.

Eyes cast down in a sink.

Wishing I wasn’t there.

 

Boat withstanding, brandishing rope for a landing.

A port-anything, but not as in wine.

Damning.

Like red in the morning, I read in the morning.

 

Glass half empty?

Rather, broken glass in the trash.

 

Tempers and temperatures flaring.

But you get the point.

Mostly pointless.

 

What’s to stand for?

What is it to stand for?

Can’t stand for it?

Standing for nothing?

 

Glamour galore;

Ah, the punctual whore.

 

Right on time as time ticks by.

Thank God for this day, thank God for this pay.

 

But its shit.

But its imagined.

But its great!

 

And we see.

 

Thanks for what?

-Everything and nothing.

 

Stamp it, put your work up in a panic, even if it be damaged.

Posters hang; fading and straightforward in the peak heat-weather, winds pushing, pulling, and twisting material to the bitter end.

And then the rain came.

 

Still no one noticed.

 

Things remained changed and consistent again.

 

They may read, or walk by and not see.

Not out of greed, but out of apathy and discomfort.

They walk with speed, but show no conviction.

 

His sign says change, cash-please, he’ll take anything.

Why not buy him a beer?

He won’t sit here and drink it.

 

Ever wonder why?

 

Obviously no bread is broken here, the exchanged is postponed.

 

We succeed if we believe.

But then there are liars.

 

They go through the motions, emotions elated, but only imagined.

Frustrated.

 

Whose to judge?

Where’s the jungle?

 

Walk in circles and mumble.

 

We all put on a show, but how is the one in the mirror?

Standing O or no go?

Completely humbled.

 

Boos or laughs.

Serious gaffs.

In between claps we collapsed.

Lost the clasp and cracked.

Fell off track and got right back.

 

Like that story about the horse.

 

Get back to where you once belong, and get gone.

Take it in for a minute, but not too long.

Finish.

 

Exist without and within.

 

All is all, and if you do something to one side you must do it to the other.

Logical, rational, lover.

Brother,

 

There is so much to discover… Within Oxymorons.

The church was at the bar.

 

 

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