Tuesday, May 27, 2014

complications in the unlively mind of a student not studying anything...

do what you will        
    i have seen    someone a mule
as it were           in the
                                          land of the free
   or if   you will have it            in severed space

that space is the length between whatever definition you
      have to defend your eyes

and the lips it takes to console them       that space

in fret  consoles temporarily       not caring i'm.....
      there-in
        without me
her without you and a vision  of         luck

                                         having a mind of its own

even though it doesn't like to be bent
             i bend in resource

life begins beyond a Bayou's swamp
                              the water doesn't care either way

it's thoughts are its own........let alone loneliness

poetry doesn't need the teaser

do what you will   and the mule will still moan
                i was just thinking of all the Same       them and us

could of had if life Back then wasn't lost in the You
    'r  worth-its
    'r
    'r  trading-spaces-on-tv-divvied-up-within-and-between-commercial-tunes
we-all-hum-when-we're-bored 

Friday, May 16, 2014

angst and word play

the lawn is cut for me and yet i still find it a burden to live
    i am nothing in spite of vision     and what is not seen

             a story told in magnets          or the intra-red-shades
we pull over our eyes    in order to be perceived as   

one that can see            i'm speaking to the laura marling in us all

to attend           and endure a past seemingly disconnected   
earth         where have you been?

a story bests     or boils          depending on is victorious moments 
tales sucking victor    
               and vowing anything to pass

that         depend upon our mouths endurance 
empty and working                full and vindicated      in lots of way
   
        trailing last tallies

full of talents and tenants    sonnets upon seances 

spoiling real

reality chances the wind    chances        blinking tense

blacking breaks between win and loose

      a winners boast makes paper headlines  the day after
or it oiled with the dinners fish and chips  

      let a hung pained folly go   and let fester a dew

when paved intentions spell  paper machete remainders  
     fleet water
shading     unclean

a water meant for drinking

i dare you to read             and write   and self emulate 

without the integrity of cages

forge a madness    to forgo one


it is not your duty to perpetuate 
            in fact it is quite the opposite 




Thursday, May 1, 2014

things that are not up to me/ or you

i dreamt        a bounty wrench    strong as
      horses hooves in mid race      depressing valley

tight your ears and mouth

eyes     put away          as if sleep were

life bulbs to be casted away when out  
         trashbag knotted and delivered to the street
belittled

               in a since      
blinking yesterdays wrenches    same as todays
                 semantically named     assembly  

stitch and tear the same when bought and paid for

we square your sleeves       you square mine  
       mine square best
in past tense

Nature bends
                           naturally      
bends in weakness

wind submissions        make it worth its wild

in seed and branch         both give way to change
       when wrench and branch   twist

a wind
                using others to let us all know it's there
      we tend to lock our secrets              and we tend to
come upon them               intrusively

the serpent and eagle are not brothers      
                        they live together           learn in the same time


thrust and quarry ends            perturbation needs only holes to be complete

and the week begins  on occasion   left-ly          baskets of life     leaving

right  brain

basking in the far right way of thinking

i don't know
what we owe to the Sun                  understand this    color trance
     dope a braid and believe

the ways of man             lend this     mouth  submission

 enough unabated sound

enough to loose direction      arrows pointing everywhere
and every wear     and everywhere

its not too much to think that the earth keeps her own time
                     that shouldn't reck you
inconsiderate of our sound
                   if i were Her i'd think a tree


at its weakest         untouchable        

           and the sound of some   she keeps

not around      but somewhere
     
and those are things           that are not up to me          or you