Wednesday, July 31, 2013

gianorama

the tabla beats among towers of books
spilt in the open hallway between us.
drops a pipe in the glass
which breaks at the ice line, a sad half
drink down the drain.

listen, they tell us,
the north pole's not a damn lake
it's just a layer of water on the ice sheet.

feel this rain, it's
 cold, like refrigerated
 do you remember
when it used to rain
on a summer
afternoon for like, ten minutes
then move on  amd   steam rose
thick as graveyard ghosts at midnite
 from  roads baked
all day in the sun?



and i can't help you with that
since maine moved south
for summers, fronts roll in
full of thunderous thick flocks
make a bayou of tampa's streets
every day at quittin time.
we navigate the waters grateful
derecho's love the midwest
more. i dreamt this morning
of a child trapped in a situation
i should be able to help. i woke
understanding the nature of should.
she wasn't mine in the dream either.








i fear a lot of things:
waterspouts on the skyway
eviction notices on the farm
burial at the hoarder's den
channeling demons that wished they were saints
to name a few. mostly though i'm too
tired to be fearful. trying to remember the last
adrenaline rush i'd say it was a fight with y ou
about the car. and a loan. when we found out
it was all due to miscommunication  both
breathed a sigh/. slight smile. /mostly doh
let's not do that again. you may not
be doing anything but i am letting
you grow into that and own it
like the message in the bubble
six minutes to eight this morning
or the way jets land on the runway
with gear engaged, windshears zipped,
guided by fully awake, attentive air traffic controllers.





  i blogged travel hugged
lights to keep me alive.
  still do it on a picoscale. and it seems
like a zas dubbed with viola
fading into you as we fade into a sidestream
sidereal tramp broken sucker for time.
like how did we lose track of it
when it was not there ..


but here. moving,






here you caught it again,
in your fork made of water
  sort-of. post-engraved
 random access memory
 image-filters.
 sample grids. discontinuity 
as metaphor. disconstruity 
continued in concatenationlaments
 of the Route 10 of the Hong Kong
  inner forgotten temples 
name it ½zen these monstruous
 stateformatted highwayzones in the neocity 
of ams -rot don; phil  york- ston rio-sao plo
 measureless stretches of urbanity
  meaning got lost










once upon a time you said
you said things and i whispered them
back at you. once 
when time did not 
 we were together with
 in the cocoon 




what we had was a respite from zen. 
we could desire all we pleased
we could work and desire and 
 this doesn't mean i do my work
 without love but after
 nearly fourty years it is 
now destroying
 me slowly. and i think 
i can tell you i know 
where time's been hiding.








Sunday, July 28, 2013

i can't recall winston's face

neuroma+-++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++. ineffective, unregulated, nerve regeneration so like when i go stutter
it comes out st st st uuuttttterrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

no not like that.

he was on the committee to re group
in brazil, but somehow the memo got crossed
with a transportation edict  so now
we don't know where he was sent
from the post gitmo courtroom.

it's always a short step from thought crime
to did you see what he said on facebook  ?
what do you mean he has no fb page, everyone has...
oh right. he's no one now.
who?
what were we discussing,
 it's time for happy hour.
every body saddle up .





:)  :)  ::)









even if i could remember the names of all
those stories that need to be
told, i don't know that i could understand
their lives any more than my own.
and what's so important about understanding
the life of a line tech, your hairdresser,
her next door neighbor, the flagman's nephew>
the layering is thick. bricks require
mortar, clay. clay requires slated mineral, slick
moldable, fungible. the story of   shale
the weight of the office cleaner's talent.

when we met you told me i should be teaching.
i asked why you dropped out, decided i
made a wrong turn writing it off. but what can you do.
shrug your shoulder,dust off this guy's footprint.
share the tequila, write a song.

i'm wating for the music to go soft
like your smile under water, swimming
to me, mostly trusting
i'll be there. today a younger one
supplanted you, she called me granny too.
i can dig it.










:):):):):):)













the ladder was yellow and she waits down there
says go ahead on this one, and i fell so fast,
like a dart , my legs straight in front of me
my head and my butt landed same time.
oh baby, she says, that is a fast slide
are you ok? and no, i'm not. it was scarey
gramma why did you let me do that
are you crazy? that's what i'd say if i could
catch my breath, but i just cry and cry and cry
mostly because i mean if you can't trust gramma
who's left?































*(&(*&








seriously, he was a friend of mine.
but i'm not supposed to
i mean, he wasn't on the approved...
well, he was. initially.
i could kind of tell he wasn't with the program.
it made me uncomfortable
to talk to our bosses about him.
i thought they could tell i was hiding something.
but i had nothing to give them.
i mean i had no proof though anything
he said, maybe it was the way he looked so pained
during exercise or ...
i don't know. he just stopped coming in one day
and i wish i could remember
more than his face, what i may have said
about him. ...
cuz you know, it feels like they're looking at me now.




but standins so hard

the trayvon ghost should haunt us all
but should don,t pay the rent.
n by the time the gavel fall
justice had been spent
in capitol halls, where thugs in suits
trade defense dollars for carry permit somehow a woman
in jail twenty years for not retreatment
fearing for her life from a guy she once loved
bound to murder but thats
not stand your grouhd ya know u shlda let hij lan a blow

Friday, July 26, 2013

hey its time for jonny


who is still not on the daily..... omg, scuse me here
i remember when tweeting was just beginning
a woman who claimed to like my poems
told me i'd be a natural for , just open brain
insert fingers. so yah, i told her i dunno if i like
the idea of limiting myself to 40 characters or less
but now tweets are almost passe, cuz you can
go on the book of faces and promo yourself
aphoristically , comediacally, photographicly
instagrammicly, vimeo lee any
new way you can think of and i understand
the exact moment in modern cultural evolution
that i became a silent film star .

trigeminal neuralgia

aka suicide disease
is characterised by sharp, stabbing pains
in your jaw and tongue and other
face places. it makes you wanna
kill yourself. but you don't
need that do you? a five minute wait
at wendy's and you
forego the drive through pull around to go
inside after 10  pm
  a miscalculation deserving slit
wrists or a gun to the head. then you get back
inline and as soon as you order your burger
you're over it.  is there like, an emotional version
cuz baby i believe you got it..
every morning it's woe is me, i can't do it i'm so tired
and it's not that i think you're not tired it's man i'm  too
tired to hear it from someone's not held a steady in
how many years did you say? dude
i been sloggin to work , answering to others since i was
twelve babysitting the lecherous neighbor's kids for
20 dollars a week. so i'm
about over the whining cuz it's a contagious tude
and i'm tired of being sick.


Tuesday, July 23, 2013

inside the previously barren

sometimes the last chance you take.
winged battles, chariots with a dark side
ipads covered in blood and jam.

take this fifty eight satin colored exterior
observe what half a century conjures.
liver spotted wrinkiles, sweet n low carbs
 but you still have your hair.and the wifle's
 still dead like all those times you never dreamed
she'd be.


i think the problem is your heart is in
the right place, but the right place
  is not. . crack another beer
we'll be seeing you soon.





(*)O)









the infinite amount of monkeys it would take
to grab this line and turn it into a knock knock joke
would still not begin to crack the encoded
message i send you each nite. do you recognise
this song? first time's the best.


except that gang rape  always feels like the first time.
mom asks me why i go back and i tell her
i dunno. maybe it was the way you fed me peas.
 i can't say i'll be at your funeral. it depends on when
i have the decency to die. or really why should anyone.
i'm pretty sure there's a world of warcraft
you couldn't begin to trust out there.
level 72 is impressive, so's a ot 12.

i've almost forgotten all that you taught me
when we were mice, nvermind the seagrass
with the buge purple bulge. it's like you took lsd
then became the halucination. good to see you again.
















*(&(&8



esposito realty called.
they want five dollah please.
i want to sell this place
move to a shack on the beach or just
two blocks over. i could take
the intercoastal side.

that's what oregon didn't have.
barrier islands. you'd go from inland
pastures,. between two hills and bam
the pacific is right in your face, sarah silverman style.


that' shit's mostly batshit and reserved forsnowbirds.
if you saw how fast i make these words you'd swoon.





















*(&&(


listen i'd say to her if she asks about
what am i gonna do for retirement
i'm not gonna make it there, don't fret it.

i smoke. wirk in a factory
drive a fast car. write poetry.
all's i need is trigeminal neuralgia
and i'm all set.


oh
and a gun.


















*(&&*









bombay dub

i love that you recited your old poems
the last time you called,felt like
history rereading itself.

there's a lot to be said
for a wiped memory,
burnt bridges. cleansing flames


i am soaking my feet
in a footbath from a mutual friend.
funny how foam seems fundamental.

the cats want something
the son wants a dorm
i want to give up promises for lent

supporting a triple play
is a lot harder than it looks.
and there's  no extra pay.

just when one seems drawn
down, another comes into view.
the listing never stops and i have sails to raise.

so use the pumice stone carefully.
pink is refreshing/ shiny is in.
  yeah,  heaven.was where we is.


sighted like a trombone underhum
a dyed in powder river,dust colored power
all over that whitenesses. and elephants. let there be elephants.








.


2way dream

title by bjork

i said but you ARE the wife.
if we define it by household contribution and

you said if i were the wife, i'd be doing a better job.

i have been 
chewing on that 
every since. 



listen i know you
 have an astrological need
to sabotage yourself 
but can't you just wear the damn shoes?
look,that's a cinderella fit. 


that would make you
either the wicked stepsister 
or prince charming. 

nope that makes me the fairy godmother.
glass is for the young.










*(&&&)))))






i explained to your sister how
it is with mental illnesses and how it's not
that i've sought it out or made it 
some kind of hobby it's just
i have encountered it since 
i was  teen, it's become part
of the fabric of my life
sort of like cancer
gets america's
 recurring empathic 
sympathies. i'm not
gonna justify that. 
just think about it for a minute
i mean if she had diabetes type 2
would you shun 
your niece you must
know that her actions that night
were a result of the psychosis
playing out. she's scared
she'll do it again. she needs time
to recover, encourage
her to go to school, help 
take care of her grandad, she's gotten so much
better these last few months
in a safe place, with only spiders to fuel
her paranoia. i think 
sis will finally get it when she
hears how your daddy
let his grandbaby stay there tonite
to help him if his meds stop
working entirely and
 how she got him
to drive to the ER
before his head exploded.


























*(&







i'm keeping secrets
in a bee house
between the combs. 

the hum is deafening.
smoke would be a mistake.

Monday, July 15, 2013

the curiosity gene

seven basic emotions are facially
recogised cross culturally from nyc
to iceland, to namibia.
fear, disgust, joy, surprise, anger, sadness,
and sometimes happiness.


i'm surprised at the surprise
but prolly shouldn't be
it's a bit like fear with out the flight
makes us want to explore the source

we swim in a sea of dark matter

reality is an illusion, but it's a very perisitent illusion
said einstein, a quotable moment in a life of quotes
did the man understand the extent of his time travelling
anymore than sheakespeare?

  jack told us long ago,
you will never know
 if what you write will outlive you.
proceed as if it won't.  i try
to remember good advice
even when it seems wrong like the way
steve told me, after hearing my mid life crisis poetry
you should go home and take up gardening.
it's more rewarding and how lo these many years later
i have taken it up and he died on a mountain road
when he lost control of his harley, another biker
pursuing perfect curves. i have sunflowers
which far from perfect or even united state's citizens
attract not only swallowtail and monarch but
the elusive spangled frittilary. and i circle above cat poems
teasing a jump and swipe
  use three of five verboten cliches
denounce acts of seriousness  seriously
ensuring a quiet night, going, gone.

demise, demoselle, demonstrate, o wayward
sons of the raped, the bricks and mortar of history's
sandcastles, delight, denounce, debate, detract o ripe
daughter mayflies of the mississippi. a grain of rice,
a bolt of cloth a dollar in the bank and you whine,
shine the light, you whine, muddy water, howling wolf
rolling stone, seventy years into last century.`you whine.
happy sad, bittersweet, neonostalgaic horns, strings, chorales
swollen tower  of midges shining in a shard of sun, whining
wheels roll through.





















*(&9*&&]















thought for a short:
blogger sends coded messages
through automatic writing, unawares.
music encodes. no matter which pandora
station plays, some of the same songs
come up. these are the hypnosis pieces.

why? the blogger never finds out.
the messages are used in other dimensions.


fuck it's been done. with the descolada virus
and before that, philip k dick. i'm sure those stories
are all over the place. it's a paranoid marketplace
and we loves our conspiracies, even those
taking place in different cosmos.

















*****




so like this dark matter thing?
freakier than black holes.
maybe it comes from them,
 leaking dark  stars into the equation
that light swims around







Saturday, July 13, 2013

child killer boarding house

in the middle of the comedy show tonite with j.b. ball,black man
the trevon martin case verdict
came through-so many people were glad he got off.
the audience was mostly white. reasonable doubt, tie
goin to the runner. why is this state so incompetent ?
 the comedian did not riot, he just asked so
zimmerman is kinda fucked tho. where is he gonna go?
i guess casey anthony's got a new roomate
now that's a pro.

noose of perception

title-jonathon deon



in the late morning trailer park
back yard, i eat the weeds while
 thunder approacheth from the sea.
near the mexican sunflowers
a swallowtail   flies , darts away
from the killing machine to another
a bounty coronal colored, like nasa
emhanced pix of spiders in the sun.
 sprouted from a dollar envelope
,a lepodepterial banquet across my yard.




when the rains come, they come hard.
flock of ducks wanders the bayou
dipping in the puddles without sense
to get out of the lightning.which doesn't
seem to strike them anyway. duck bills root
in the marshlands which spring in the front
yards of the trailer park. such beautiful lawns
in monsoon season.battling shepards needles
because i got rid of the sandspurs. my life
is so dramatic.






i've some of those flowers in a horsehair
vase i icked up in arizona. my niece is there.
she's going to have a baby. her latest pic is 17 wks
she's calls it duckbill. sweet. i'm so glad she's having
one of the twelve kids she wanted when she was nine,
an only child. glad my sister gets a grandbaby, makes me
itch for mine. i may get to see  her today.
now's the time to be alive, stay awake and smile.
no work to do, woo hoo.listen to twee music
talkin to you.













stole some of that from the submarines. 1940.
i guess that woulda been the year. no wonder retro's
so fashionable. less weight of cynicism in cultural
revolution's genesis, the theories untried. practice
is so much more empirical, like a chemical mix
determined by time and baking soda. stole
some of that from the parallax of the crow.



there's this dude hid a treasure
somewhere in the west
and is giving  clues to its whereabouts
in a poem. also in a book. also
online. so someone may find it
before he dies. he had cancer in the nineties
and he's still alive. blessings for the blessed.
money for the willing i guess.
























(*****_











i cld certainly dig being a supreme being of leisure.
floating from one moment to the next,
entertained, unbored, riding to gulf of mexican time stream













.



Wednesday, July 10, 2013

mind candy plant food

it doesn't work the way
we think it does. instructions
lost in a big bust, turning right
in a left only zone. options
are most valued on the rhizome express
but next time, please bring a curling iron.
in the mellineal, legacy will be
a new math which disproves
the despot.


more precisely, provided
 that no phenomemon violates
the principle of relativity
of motion,
  there is no means
to measure the velocity
 of an inertial observer
with regard to a possible medium
of propagation of quantum waves.

we have missing matter because the equations say
gravity demands that it has to be there. but it's not.



what's not to understand
you put the right foot in
take the left foot out, pop
a couple of dubiously manufactured
pills and have either ecstatic trance music jams
or a hellish night over the porcelain throne.

the fact that we can't measure motion
in exactitudes merely means no one's standing still
despite strong evidence to the contrary. rocks
for example.








&*^



recently had another bout with my reproductive glands.
thought i might bleed out before help came. i was really
stressing this, wondering if i'd know if i was hemorrhaging
grateful to have you in my bed to look out
or at least find the body if i slip out during the night.
came to terms with that being exACTly the way i wanna go
in my sleep, with no notice, just  wake up  during a bad dream...

so i guess if that's the worse that happened to me
it'd be alright.not that i'm courting death, i was proactive
this time, called the doc, did the tests, took the meds.
now it's a wait for results, let's discuss surgery.

i'm so weary. remove it, i'm done with the breadbasket
and can you give me a tummy tuck at the same time please?
 i've raised my brood, they're on to lives of their own
i wanna sell this place and move to the beach. wonder
if i could write stories from the ocean there. every day
i'd give her some trinket and every night she'll send me
another story, walking down gulf blvd or along the shore.

some of them i'll meet, some of them i'll make up.
grains of sand, castaways, one point oh five.
i'll need to find a good name for the stories.
it's a two year project. in the meantime, the tile

will be laid, i'll make payments, get out with the
shirt on my back and new used car maybe.
rattle along the surf , crab crawl the ocean
an hour every night. i'll be the shrunken
leathery womsn in the shallows, kicking my
feet in zero gravity.

light spontaeously twists itself
imto knots

an approaching storm breathes thru the open
screen door,an invitation.  a stroke from the edge
crashes into chimes,  backstage light flashes,
the black curtains want to rise fly across
the audience banging an entrance.

the pink hot wheels is empty
soon to be outgrown. sirens
at the smell of rain. a purply blue
petal skitters under the porch.
looney toons rabbit strikes tumble
 pins to the roof




%%%%%****%%%%+

washed
in luminal time. waters chaos
eventually suceeds with
or without gravity. there is
movement in the system
but combination depends
on kinetics and the amount
of mosquitos
and fireworks on the beach.

otherwise busy with making
pizza,snapping photos of the rodeo,
cashing in on an e crase, we
didn'tnotice the peeling edges
until the revealed the angel's wings



***((()))***


bugs bite
drawn by the light
son and mother discuss
college. the way of flight, keeping
unsquished.

Sunday, July 07, 2013

whistle blown

SO WHAT IF I HAD
secrets to keep could i
and what if i had
secrets to reveal would i
be so brave to give up
family, country, safety
to live in the interstice of legality
a stopping place in transience
watching those who could save me
turn their backs while those who would
destroy me because i bit them
slaver at the gates, awaiting the swords
that will lock me out of sanctuary
at the politgod's bidding.


nah, i wouldn't take that job in the first place.
i mean if you're gonna be all spy guy
then raascal is your calling.
allegiance to a flag or a fag or multibillion dollar hag
is not on your radar.. expedience
under pressure, role reversal a necessor.
i realise that to hold this view is us and themming
but seriously, spies are sneaky, shady by trade.
is it possible that playing that game too long
will turn your coat for real? the tiger's stripes
don't change, no matter whose zoo .



Tuesday, July 02, 2013

ghosts of summer

rain and rain and rain but i had
to rent a beach place on the fourth.
so if it rains and it looks like rain
the ghost of o ten may visit.

oh it already did. a point of detachment
in the old post a roni board.to be fair
to that ghost, it was a situation i hadn't done

so i wrote him indelibly in my mind. i hope
this summer's lover is better than that. in fact
he already is. he tells me i turn him on
his body has not betrayed his words. perhaps

every woman turns him on. polyamorous, she
thought. but no, he just cheated on her. with me.
the circle is complete. the gods have their  ring.
just because i didn't know doesn't mean a thing.


i'll cast no stones. not this time, i'll eat none either.
the eighteen month calendar seems it may extend itself
beyond the call. i'm rather pleased but i may be the one
says by this time. this time? as if the others were not?

but they weren't. ex one, yes. ex two no. ex three yes and  no.
ex four yes and yes and yes and no. ex five , no no and i believe no
he never was an an, so ex   not, he was a train wreck of his own making.



so i meet you when i give up. on love. on .


and i can't care as much about you because
you may even now be fucking her and i would not know
and i would not be so much surprised
as confirmed in my belief. i lief as know i am wrong.


and you say i can tell you this and it won't change
how you feel toward me and you say i can tell you
your fatal flaws and you won't kill the messenger
as long as she lets your make love to her as belief.


it wouldn' matter if i could care more would it?
the beloved doesn't have to. that's the lesson
i got when you took my love
into your ego and blessed it. selfish he say

be selfish. i had not forgotten how
i simply didn't properly learn from the start.



















*(*










the bucket list gets shorter
not because of things done
but desire's fade, undone
energy .... one
i really wanted.

 so i got  you.
it feels as real as i mean  it to
but her ghost creeps in
at the most inopportune times.
so does his. the patterns want to be.


the way you stayed and stayed
hid yourself away, no one knows you
least of all yourself. no! its not so
i know myself. i am not angry.
i am hurt. i am scared. i am sad.
i am disgusted. but i am too tired
to be angry.


tired you whisper
from your dreams.
you don't remember
 when you wake.
you are too much like me




 why do you sabotage your self?
why are you not a brilliant success
 at your chosen field? wjhy are you
 not brilliant any more my little star.



tired you weep
from the black hole
but no one hears you nothing
can escape from there. rest now.
































(*^^^^^














outside the steakhouse
rain falls as if air molecules
put on coats of water
and moved into your
neighborhood lung machine


the window shimmers with
 forty days and nights,rising
in a wet blanket, treading until
we sink, no one's bait, no one left.

do i write, really, closer to the grave?.
you write only of the dead.
 you know who
you are.


i feel cocooned, lying in your arms
folded, caped, layers of gauze between
matter and we  floating,
disembodies.

tentacles caress
  i sigh and tighten.
brought back to   flesh
again by  the why
 flabbergasted by the how.




if we could throw off these old carapaces
and live again in clones would we make the same mistakes?
i believe we answer that with history.

i'm just so tired. if i could throw it off.
now i know how you feel
 when  chemistry has its way with you
anxious and cringing little urchin.

i am an elephant with elephant hide.
i take your stance now, with more seriousness.
i want someone to feel like bill withers about me.
then i might stay.














i know i know.



























*&\\\


truth is, i loved a poet with your name,
from afar. we were close as brothers
until he realized i am a woman. i always knew
    a poet can have any occupation.
he is a poet who washes dishes and cries.








so i half loved the ideaization of your name  before we even met.
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the rain, she falls
trickles and rivulets
pull from in sympathy
there are protents here
i wish to ignore but i
am forced to deal with them.
soak the sheets. find a pad.
an umbrella, extra towels
it will be wet
the ocean wishes to be invited
to the party, sit on sonia's couch
at her beach house on the fourth
only scant day away.
the clouds threaten a brazen sky.
my eyes the color of the ocean
in deep storm decidedly un
blue. lily pads support them.

her son is an adult autistic
and is going to be there
along with her 80 year old mother
her husband died last year