Archive for the ‘Random’ Category

no such thing as poetry

August 16, 2019

There’s no such thing as poetry –

only words that enjoy each other’s company,

sipping their metaphysical absinthe

Until the bottle runs dry.

There’s no such thing as poetry

But merely unfinished sentences

That look at each other longingly

Hoping in vain to find the subject

of each other’s predicate.

 

 

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confession

August 16, 2019

Numb the day

When everything looks the same

But nothing tastes and smells like it used to, nor feels familiar

In the slightest.

Numb the day

When we wake up and see

Our souls fallen in disrepair

And our hands dried up, like winter branches.

Numb the day

When your windpipe blisters up

From the forest steadily burning around your old cabin

While you, inglorious Joan, long only

for that stake to be ready

for your last confession.

ready

August 4, 2017

young steps around the corner,

cold

black coffee exuding

blazing exhilaration,

a jumpsuit of sorts

bouncing off my bed.

And dreaming of mud,

even my sneakers sniggered:

“Come in,

I’ve always hoped to be ready

for the unexpected.”

Chim Chim Cher-ee

July 12, 2017

“Winds in the east, 

mist coming in, 

Like somethin’ is brewin’ 

and bout to begin. 

Can’t put me finger

on what lies in store, 

But I fear what’s to happen,

all happened before.”
****

stomatopods

May 4, 2017

the human eye can perceive

only a fraction

of all existing colors.

And yet we believe

the world was created

with us in mind

~*~

January 16, 2017

Downstream from a distant dream

I’ve seen a string of steps

A human-made Aurora Borealis,

and it led up to this land

of unfamiliar color,

of earths and skies that had blend together,

ethereally.

A dried-up place

in the womb of the Northern Lights.

 

**

December 23, 2016

“I’ve been here before.

I think that it was last December”

“There was no here before,

but I’m so happy you remember”

***

December 8, 2016

“I wish I had a river

I could skate away on”

*

July 15, 2016

there must be something more

to happiness

than the sum of its parts

oulipo

May 12, 2016

où suis-je, ces eaux sont pas à moi,

Ulysse, rebrousse chemin car t’as

largué trop de grandes vagues et là, trop

ivre ton bateau s’en va, nos

pâles marées s’effacent déjà, donc

ôte ta peau et coule-moi ça