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| tripping to school (stumblingly)
my head grows higher
and higher, these bloodshot eyes are
fumbling with images
tumbling down this ant-parade of words
and letters, become
more meaningful a-l-o-n-e
than when i stick them together
pasting their pattern into a masterpiece.
NOW
one 'i' is better than two
one 'z' is all you catch,
and one 'f' is all i need to
crucify all means of escape.
| | |
| As lovers lend their ear
To the softly humming trolley lines,
(The swinging wires and leaping sparks
Teach the marionette how to dance)
Every word would twist our tongues,
Every dream is eloquent,
Every tree beats back the storm,
Every building tumbles.
We died or were dreaming
With rose-petal eyes.
Sitting beneath the lilac tree
We
(barely)
Breath
| | |
| The talk has ended.
The killer dead with sidewalk burns
And the lady holds a smiling gun,
The bullet drinks its fill,
The asphalt plays a vulture,
Swallowing 1000 dreams
and
a half-smoked cigarette.
They had once almost kissed,
But their words left lips little room to spare.
Their eyes perceived no faces,
Their feet had missed the ground.
Loneliness has overtaken
Dormant thoughts
and
evolving dreams
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|
i wrote a poem that i really like:
It took two days of solitude
In the purse-lipped lullabies of firefights and sleepless nights,
To find that steady
Throb
Throb
Throbbing Glow
(alien or inherent,
It makes my eyes water,
It makes my smile grow)
And i'm blind in both eyes
With darkness before me,
But i swallow up the world
And spit out what i cannot eat.
It took 17 years
With 1000 tiny pieces of one fractured vision,
When i cracked open that paternal window,
And found a shattered mirror,
With each crack a cripple,
And each hole a heaven in which
(empty as a beggar
Or a barrel to be filled)
i empty out my pockets
And swim in a prayer.
| | |
| Believe me when i tell you that this is one of the best bands ever.
Slinking down the darkest paths,
With flashlight eyes
(to sweep and spill)
Like a hollered sermon-
Breaking ears and taking minds
'Till the scurrying creatures hide with the night.
And we whisper under a midnight blanket
(the stars above the sleeping city)
Cowered beneath disapproval
And tattle-tale sirens.
So, this is where the butterflies
(pretty wings and pretty eyes)
Plead a cause of beauty,
And blatantly arise.
Oh, blatantly arise!
Along the city-scape,
With tattered breaths made sweet with words
We wrap ourselves around the world,
And listen to its soft-breathed dreams...
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