Inspiration...Sadness...and whatever life takes
Friday, September 26, 2008
vision
i was dreaming dangerous; and it was no fantasy. it was of:
bikers and their helmets;
smokers and their cigarettes;
sailors and their mermaids;
teachers and their leather;
prostitutes and their viruses;
bakers and their spatulas;
artists and their lives;
et cetera,
i could only want to be a gardener; so i buried these seeds;
the noble harvests of my dreams- soil and shovel- thinking:
i could only want to be constant; that i cannot dream to wake
to a flickering screen- denoting failure- crows girdling- thinking:
all vision to have been- - foolish vanity.
cuRRent...jer ¶ 6:19 pm
i was dreaming dangerous; and it was no fantasy. it was of:
bikers and their helmets;
smokers and their cigarettes;
sailors and their mermaids;
teachers and their leather;
prostitutes and their viruses;
bakers and their spatulas;
artists and their lives;
et cetera,
i could only want to be a gardener; so i buried these seeds;
the noble harvests of my dreams- soil and shovel- thinking:
i could only want to be constant; that i cannot dream to wake
to a flickering screen- denoting failure- crows girdling- thinking:
all vision to have been- - foolish vanity.
cuRRent...jer ¶ 6:19 pm
Friday, September 19, 2008
escape
deadened; yet so alive: something's beating; oh not so gently;
and into the night; bursting out of chests: these
are corpses thumping; in rhythm; and in lights; noise
and decadence; take another shot of truth and vines;
then- the world's in his making- witch potions- turning
minds: insides and the outs; skeletons crawling- frantic- onto
the floor- grabbing hold- slipping - a slippery jug- our thumbs
locking; yet our hands are empty; and only when we begin
to listen; and to hear; the music cries with us:
when will we ever leave this place; when will we
ever live?
cuRRent...jer ¶ 1:30 am
deadened; yet so alive: something's beating; oh not so gently;
and into the night; bursting out of chests: these
are corpses thumping; in rhythm; and in lights; noise
and decadence; take another shot of truth and vines;
then- the world's in his making- witch potions- turning
minds: insides and the outs; skeletons crawling- frantic- onto
the floor- grabbing hold- slipping - a slippery jug- our thumbs
locking; yet our hands are empty; and only when we begin
to listen; and to hear; the music cries with us:
when will we ever leave this place; when will we
ever live?
cuRRent...jer ¶ 1:30 am
