Negative ParticlesHeaven upside down
How cool bliss flakes
shiver into rotting coal
wrapped, intertwined in a coil,
withered a storm and flicker,
land and become tar and feathered
to know that every story
shines, flows, and rusts
to trust this injustice
is to appreciate the lair
the only direction to which anything
can at all--> fall
Telegraph Avenue BerkeleyTelegraph Avenue Berkeley12 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Awning on Telegraph Avenue,
The Raleigh Bar and Grill,
Rustic wooden benches,
Pitchers of beer and Business Math,
Hot May 2003 the minds of tomorrow
Walking about eyes finally open amid
The tie-dye t-shirt sales, Psychic Readings
And painted vinyls of yesterday's music
Recycled and painted on as the new frame
Of black circular artistic expression.
Vietnamese Pho, Ethiopian Cuisine,
Thai Noodle, or Blondie's Pizza,
Smart drinks, cafes,
Church groups sitting on lawns,
Next to the twelve hour traffic
Jams and cell phoned yuppies
And half naked transients who
Happily forgot that years disappear
Yet continue to thrive without a
Penny in their hands.
This tolerance preached as disturbing on news waves
Is but a kaleidoscopic wet dream in the flesh.
MLK's speech came true here,
In this twenty squared blocked
Radius of hope,
The real United Nations of a future which
Will always be a mirage in the Television informed
Jurisdictions serving its only purpose of Selling
Art of the Onward MarchArt of the Onward March12 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And here you are, perched on the eaves
of your fathers' understanding,
ripening in folly as the chorus swells.
Like an heir to Babylon you meditate
on the melting of peoples
sloughed into your flaming voice and hands.
This is your manifesto, artist of broken
lampposts and husks of homes, streets
where metal whines like
mangled mongrel dogs still limping
roads emptied behind the
crackling gravel of your many, many brushes.
Your calligraphy is stroked in slanted reds
and browns, ink leaning from the force of your
latest, brightest work.
Derivative Depositsthey will derive consistencyDerivative Deposits11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
from the motion of lax drizzles,
engaging moments with precision,
each peace a steam travel
on a stolid amble amid lit trees
begging for constance,
begging for trespass,
begging for tide...
and you will be
that disconnected line
dotted, for meaning
in some transitory time,
aching for stability
and a thinner crowd.
the silence of a louder shrill
melts quicker than the pelt,
stirring smooth enough to
slick downside the stair
to where we meet in the foyer
at the end of our destination,
and breathless from the ride.
INSIGHTINSIGHT12 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
"See Naples and die"
If you had seen
what I had seen
in just two moments
in just two eyes
you could happily die
a thousand times.
Cliff NotesCliff Notes12 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Cricket leg serenades
To this Asbach taste that veneers late Tuesday -
Companions to a cork parade
Of characters strolling through the vines;
Residential escape in charmed, young prime
Staving off charge of rolling night.
Fetch your pink,
From recessed cupboards, bottled up
To pour on ice.
Lay the tumbler to the coaster;
Watch condensation droplets
Pool into a question
The modern art above your bed
Grasping for tradition, well-kept
And bred in sound conditions;
A sieve that bled until she cried
From underneath those lines,
And you found heaven
Through that answer in her eyes
Shattering shock of matter melting,
Diluting tonight's pride and worth
As the minutes go by;
Leave rocks behind
To remind of true meaning -
Everything at home is everything that's right.
Michael JacksonIn Indiana You first cried MichaelMichael Jackson11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A sociopathical man for it takes an act
of madness to feel one's heart from song
I'll never forget how you defended my broken heart
How much I learned to love from your tunes
Where I thought I was the only longing
Flaming hair, white gloves, and tabloid
perverted attempts to make me forget
you'll always have one more chance
I'll take that chance, keep your memory
in me to the gallow of taboo, I know you
you did nothing more than commit the crime
of loving this world.
No pedophile, no media wave, no police force
could outdance your soul.
You gave me my soul
Michael Jackson, I love you.
BigAnd it all came together with a crashBig11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
an expanding singularity creating
Monumental foam rising in a desert sea
The monsters and the carnivores of the soon
and the twisting never
The cancers and the throbbing monads
The green megaliths and groping
The plush sentients
All at once.
Ascending mightily a broad expanse of unbounded
But all the same expelling passionately
the voidless form of before
to sum up into waves of sonic being all that
would pass for passing
all that would crash and scream and pass.
and indolent proportions
of waving wind spun across new fields
making bread, eating it
ExaroExaro12 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a simple grammatic
prophylactic rhapsody in blue--
arms quaking, bones shaking the space
numb hands thrumming
one loud, unending beat.
Polymorphic mobiles dance naked,
so many stars against the vacant expanse
folding the unfolding words
into hijacked, weeping rhyme--
symbols struggling to implant it
in the stone cold static.
No Train For YesterdayI spend two & a half smiles on strangers,No Train For Yesterday11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
drink a bottle of casual words
& head down a silent street, accompanied
by muted endeavors of faceless clowns.
It's a tired, malnourished day, strained
over frail dusty bones of hours
& as I run my hand along a minute,
it feels like leather, worn from wear.
You still arise in idle thoughts:
the way you stopped to watch me at
an ambiguous train station up north.
You were the streetlight that blinked on
& off in futile attempt to murder wind
while snow raced horizontal lines
& hurried past large metal doors.
You seemed to revel in movement,
smoothed air with your skin
as I headed on. Gave shelter
to a misplaced thought & lost another
in muddy puddles behind my temples,
aching now, condensed for spare.
The smell of old liquor & masculinity
still lingers in my nostrils' memory.
You asked for clarity in all I said
out of spite & I couldn't find the words.
Shreds of sentence fragments tasted bitter
& I washed them down with another
So You Wanna Commit SuicideSo You Wanna Commit Suicide12 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
So You wanna commit suicide
end your life one swift stride
gun triggered sense of pride
prove others you'll not
But I don't care.
Even if I love you
more than my own life;
I don't care,
If you once saved
my life when my
spirits were low;
In fact encourage
Tomorrow I won't
care about why you
did what you did;
Horizon's still the same,
I'll live long and free,
won't be trapped inside.
In the end,
You made a decision,
I've made one too;
I've decided that I'd
have killed you if you
didn't kill yourself;
Thanks for the note;
It's great humor script,
you'd even think I gave
a damn about why you
chose what to do;
Thanks for the note,
those words and paper
light up my fireplace;
Thanks for the note,
No spirituality or beauty
in your words;
Thanks for the note,
There will be no shrine
created in your name;
Goodbye to you,
The many good times;
Goodbye to you,
Too bad you won't
meet me for drinks tomorrow;
Goodbye to you,
Too bad your
"K" is for VirginalYou are a textbook replication of a slighter Plath and Hughes,"K" is for Virginal12 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
drawn daily through a contemporary intro-Southern collective jar
and with a geminated bite and sphere at your freshly-picked fingertips,
hanging fire like bed sheets with poetry-peppered papers
on a clothesline of aberrances, sharp thumbtacks of unfinished prose
delaying some other thing, casual stings, Greek recipes.
Youve cloistered yourself in a trapdoor oven with a lightly-curtained laugh,
sputtered oven light glaring so that a single passerby can ensure
that you dont cook yourself to a lighter colorlessness,
postured sweetly with a deep carbon coat.
the debts of John-Lisathe debts of John-Lisa12 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
We are the debts of John-Lisa.
Enter past mailboxes nailed shut
or just ignored. Step by oil marks staining
the sidewalk in slick tailpipe drips,
framed by rails in dead-brain paint.
Scrape your shoe on our welcome,
cheque your tricks at the door.
on our upholstered yawn-chair,
eat our boring bread (coated
in cold butter).
Miss, judge these two-eye-toasts
paid by His truly. Thanks.
It was stale and sharp,
the talking, and each left scars
on too-old wounds. Excuse yourself
splash water on boiled skin - avoid
grease fires. Leave your putdown
footprint inside. Shiver out the
threshold, past the porch
and a flag, caught in the wind's
Maybe tomorrow. [then:]
John-Lisa take a last car ride
to the teller. In a bank, a
Miss shelling mass stacks
finds the key to takeout attacks -
Glasseyes roll flip-back jacks
the sea salty sweet withthe sea salty sweet with10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
birdcry (the sea salty sweet with)
the sea was his womb;
the salt the waves the sea
the boy, he counted waves:
and said: I'll live to be that--
-- old man drowning & crow-
birds cawing &
let's pretend he is deaf:
and the waves have number but not
the sound of rushing past quickly. the
old man doesn't stop drowning, though
a croak, silent & open-mouthed desperation,
carries him under.