My head feels like it could crack
at any
moment.
I’m in dire need for sleep
or some type of relaxation to soothe
my temple.
My body as worn leather
holding in the sun -
depth of light.
The moon set some hours ago
so I’ve begun idling,
machine,
attempting to recuperate,
separate my skull from
neck.
Another rising globe of brilliance
I cannot match.
May my lids tick shut
so I can continue [...]
Ozone
December 20, 2009
Cartwheels and Swings
November 3, 2009
I feel like sometimes this is the hardest thing for me to do. Release. Relieve myself from every single day’s torment of dementing me.
From here I fall up.
Into the sky.
Into the mouth of God -
my wet cave of sound(less)
heat, breathing,
revision.
“Until creation becomes
revelation,”
I said to her,
wishing, waiting for my own
message to transfer,
mouthing words in
no real vocalic [...]
Classroom Notes
September 11, 2009
Thin lines holding up the shoulders,
snapping, disappearing,
like idle thoughts lost, shivering
in the cold, in mindless speaking,
rambling, huddles
of letters falling
in some random numerical order
but far from technical, secular sorts,
the uppercase being a national hero
for all the apostrophes
making them stand with motionless singularity
like an apostle,
because God can’t live alone.
The History of Drinking
September 3, 2009
Calm, collected,
infatuated with quietness
whispering to me,
like dust rumbling over book casing,
padding along the top
of parched pages disintegrating under
artificial, alien lights -
sand paper in limestone
quarries.
Tiny wings clapping
in translucence, vindictive
fluttering, taps
against the bulb -
every man’s flight
towards God.
Fissures scratching
inside man-made glass,
florescent vines
cutting outlines -
a kinder garden of
time-outs and mind
envisioning the arboretum
to come from
Benjamin Franklin thinking
while drinking under what
watered [...]
Mechanical Human
August 14, 2009
Bruised bags under my eyes
beaten by flicking hands, fist
drilling minutes, seconds,
splitting eyelids – a flutter
similar to an immobile,
perched set of robotic
moth wings twinged by light wind,
trying to keep awake.
Each tick of the line
slicing silence in two’s,
then thirds, sixtieths, then
into those unheard minutes
before noon, or was it
midnight the night before,
this is where my knees feel restless
and [...]
Midday Drift
July 24, 2009
Insatiable critics never play games,
developing love to
unfold the cage of my ribs,
like a piano player might
an organ, collapsing, folding,
bending the crease -
live oxygen to a field
of poppy plants.
Hospital Visits
July 13, 2009
It felt like a small village
held idle
like a hand would
the needle over vinyl.
I can hear the static
dripping into my ears -
drums.
The silence of sound.
Patients turning over,
rustling linen,
coughing the air of sleep;
disease, pleads,
medicated dream.
Dripping down
into my inner ear
beating like rain
on bat-winged
umbrellas. I watch.
A pattering of God’s tears
overhead, my umbrella
a dying neighbor’s denial of Him.
Who am I
to [...]
Eyelash Wishes
June 3, 2009
eyelashes droppin’ in a spiral dance,
the mother iris lets them go
like a mother of birds watching her newborn
children plummet,
some catchin’ wind and grantin’ wishes,
the others there to prove
gravity exists, and owning an umbrella
doesn’t make you an English nanny
when asking for acceptance.
Listening to Library Whispers
April 24, 2009
A place where
poets read poems of past poet,
reading poetry to know that
the man before him was only
explaining existence.
Words are prayer,
a famed evolving tongue, serpent plough,
poetic lips sewing
fear in God, or maybe death;
fearing love or at best, eraser.
Poets read poem
rolling wave of ocean
tip of the tongue crashing down -
waves hiss, screaming snakes
so loud in an alarm-like [...]
