Poems from 2010-2011

 

New Songs: New Words = Gravity 

It depends on how I feel about them bones in my body.
I can feel your hipbones through water canal-over there.

And that can mean only one thing-lots and lots of water.

appear underneath that cup-
behind the screens of American movie theaters, incorrect.
both above this line and not more than…sneeze.

“Aqautiquious” in correction of nothing, relating to it somehow, it remakes that connection of bones:

fictitious, fictions, eructating, fragmented.
“there was a noise, a rattling sound, and the bones came together, bone to bone.”

and we listened

“oh,… them bones-them bones-them…”; nearby.

crackling vinyl remains

and we listened.
listened, list end, lessoned.

Just inside your hipbone is a picture of dem bones, them bones, dem dry-bones.

position your foot into water-ask yourself.
…and how many days has it been.

Syndromic necrotic encounters
disdain, kenotic, braising of wrist, and bone.

…and it is this gravity that amounts
piled, piles, pillars and pelts. To toe
bones piled up in pillars-a balance.

clacking-clucking-shunting

…and it depends on how you feel about them bones in your body.
lights-fogged and championed.

elsewhere.
It depends on how I feel about them bones in my body.

revolve, migrated against a wall. repeated on and on and on on. And hear the word of the lord

 

of how they candidly recognized

When they knocked
on the door it apparently became

an excuse to leave,
following that quiescent deviance,
vicious but localized,
those scientists found nothing that would make the difference

for several years.

to appear, accompanied
characterized by emotion

the face of motivation and romance takes over
hindering what we really are seeing

and if the sun sets, sunsets, and the sun is setting over her house, birds might call but mostly they wane;

especially when associated with the operas.

 

to multifarious occurrences

can’t stand up

guaranteed to hellos swept up by tomorrow’s goodnights
and missing frantically what was there
and is now lost into parts of my mind, somehow.

seeping back out into betweens and origins.

you stood there asking me to come in
i find myself asking to come in
a change

hello.

often times here i find myself coming in with no way to let myself out

to multifarious occurrences

i wake this morning, expecting.
getting to know myself with a prodding kind of action

with a stick
with a metaphor
with an obsequious gourd

i am submissive to each beat of my heart

the first appearance is similar to the first appearance: a deception.

a diminutive talking bird is quickly shifted from below
one to another
of three cups.

i am trying to guess the location from a distance
avoiding control

this is the shell game.

and occurrences are happening where i find myself slipping
some might say it is the banana peel on the sidewalk
pealing. loud. harmonious.

some might find a banana in the parking lot
some might see a banana in a dream
some might eat a banana

Undoubtedly, you will eventually dream about bananas.

 

Obliteration of a Memory.
Something Facing South.

creeks and trees and roads passing
trees and creeks creak    creaks    crock

to boil those memories to the surface

icing.

over cakes and frostings
counter-functioning subjective object sits on the side of the highway

do we pass by without a thinking mechanism in play?

Instilled is a memory of when you were four years old.
standing by the tree on that highway
creaking-creak by the creek,

where the water trembled down
towards a rock, gurgling alongside that memory

of cake and icing on that frosted glass.

Glazed over and hazy memory spiraled down a collectively imagined construct of where humanity had begun. It is in this pursuit that you find a comfort to own, to call into being. Something to refer to when questioned about the unspecified and mysterious blankness staring back at you from alongside of the highway.

You stare back through the window
moving fast and slow     slowly   approach
slower   slowed   down paced
pacing

stop.

only one eternal moment.

It glistens in moonlight, a cake with legs walks walked walk over walking.

And by that direction you find yourself facing south.
The cake finds itself facing south.
You have become cake memory, staring at that memory of the cake on the side of
the road.
Thing has consciousness or at least destiny.

 

over and over and over.

suppress
suppress
cessation

abandoned

deserting
enter

abandoned

absent
waiting
silent
awaiting

over and over and over.

 

 

 

 

%d bloggers like this: