Posts tagged ‘image’

July 19, 2017

american times with jim morrison

our heads of dead fuses
our mouths agape true voids
a spectacle for wires
a mind melts to ash, to lava
thoughts run thin, amok
edgewise at horizons flesh
horizontal at still birth
vertical at death above a sink
eyes cutting the mirrors veneer
blood wet like new glue
mind between here and there
mostly gone anon along
and someone was something-else
as the church bells rang like a lost phone
and the doors closed tightly
to darkness and morning like
vacated loving foreign tenants
of our american times
of our american times

May 6, 2017

inch for a mile

any room can be a set
any words can be dialogue
any time can be a moment
any thing can be nothing
und so weiter, und so forth

March 24, 2017

sense of humor/body image

sometimes
no matter how
hard
you work out
your core
or sculpt your body
to perfection
or sweat it out
or believe in yourself,
it still
doesn’t change
your fucked up attitude
no matter
which
mirror you pose in front of
no matter how
many selfies you take
from whichever different angles…

only a
ripped sense of humor
can
make that pretty or attractive or sexy,
only that
can do that,
only laughs
will jack that shit up.

what does a gym
membership go for
for that?  

May 10, 2016

individual

your
sermon
dance
is different
than mine
and mine to
you different
the same
making us
akin alike
making
us very
plain

January 30, 2016

when someone dies, you know

vivid
energetic
life,

to a
faded
bag
of effervescent
flesh,

inanimate
void,

a torn
latex glove,

a sack
seeped through.

bone
meal.

iron.

film.

i am here
right now.

i am
fading.

January 13, 2016

Naked between clothes…

As you do,
you’ll figure it out.

As you do.

September 14, 2015

uptown shine

exactly knowing & accurate
judgement are as frequent
as authenticity in the bar
lights & sidewalks of uptown.

August 17, 2015

Faces that were there (Less Dead)

I saw a reflection of a painting

of smiling faces
across a plastic desk display;

Each crack & line came shown,
each emotion came expressed.

And even in that brief one-off moment,
compared to vis-à-vis
with the ever-connected living,

they come across as less dead.

May 8, 2015

well being

a neglected mind
is a tragedy.

a neglected body
is a prison.

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?