Posts tagged ‘Good’

March 6, 2017

either or, something more

either, or,

i am either
or.

or something
more.

or something
more.

either, or.

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May 14, 2015

Have Your Day

The day you have
is of your design.

May 4, 2015

We all fall apart

beautifully,
as an old house with crying floorboards in the night
and a consistent leaky sink by day,

our skin becomes bagged and heavy,
sun-splotched, dripping,
and as malleable as putty.

The flaws emboldened—highlighted unique;
the scarring acne,
the rounded blister,
the wine-red blemish__

All beautiful characteristics,
endearing individuality to wear at the fore;
taken by some as unwanted gifts,
to hide with powdered veneer.

We all fall apart beautifully,
as tight constraints surrounding
fast loosened chains
with our appreciative perspectives,
on “I”, on “me”.

We all fall apart beautifully.

The eye of the beholder grasps us at a midmorning mirror,
as an instant fickle judgement flees,
assessment to be critically free of our character.

There is only too much time to critique.
And why waste a seventy degree day?

March 22, 2015

Perfect Artist

Sharing small town concepts,
language, in hopes to pave a path;

at a bar stool conversation,
after an empty whisky shot throat-sting,
as beer bubbles trace a 1/3 full pint glass.

One local could move forward with art,
or make it easy—take a step back.

Laugh , and seize the moment…
I think about it…
I say: but the proof is only if it kills you,
your art,
Bukowski said that,
I sort of believe the man.

We are not perfect artists, really—no one is,
the evidence is: we are still alive, mostly.

See: I’ve been to a few funerals;
I know the end of my story will be
surrounded by a shovel, dirt, words, and a box.

Then, a man I don’t know will tell others about me.

There’s advertising.

(The real artist is the priest who doesn’t know you acting like he does,
he swears to god. You were good, though god doesn’t understand death.)

Then, no more art will come out of you,
but they will hear it.

That is the perfect artist and art.
That is the truth, perhaps.

June 21, 2013

The Mobile Device That Will Change Your Life

I’m on the phone.

One minute (a finger pointed towards you).

 

I’m texting-I’m cool.

Thought you knew.

Wait til I’m through.

 

Hold that thought-hold the line.

Am I getting through?

Bad connection-it’s yours not mine.

Which provider do you use?

 

Voicemail almost obsolete, I never check that thing, haven’t heard a message in weeks.

 

Dial tone, on the phone.

Bad reception, when in Roam.

 

I’m on the phone as a matter-of-fact.  I’m phoning home, just trying to get back.

 

And you and me, when we meet in public, I’ll take my phone out in a moments notice and love it.

 

I love it.

 

We talk in person but there is no replacement for a buzzed in ringtone vibration notification.

EXCUSE ME!  COULD YOU WAIT PAITENT?  I HAVE TO TAKE THIS.

 

Obsessed to death with full coverage policies, low batteries, connectivity, and missed calls.

Hey! Its got the universal adapter just plug it in the wall.  Its also got you by the balls.

 

We make time to be rude, to stop eating food, to interrupt mid-conversation, to make our loved ones wait patient-real-life lost in translation.

 

And what’s it all for, to get spied on by the NSA while we are preoccupied with constant connections that we are paying for?

 

I guess…

 

Now are you going to take that call?

I haven’t got all day.