Swells and sneaker waves
Kings roll in, encroaching on new land… a vitriolic foreign leader
Rain and wind scorch the skin. Exfoliation and wrinkles
Toes damp to blister. Brrr in the wind.
Some days… eager to join in with the storm.
Other days… hide in a cocoon.
My narcoleptic brain checks out at inopportune times leaving me speechless, wordless, mindless, in moments of decisive meaning.
I find it hard not to see us
an ant colony with an over-fertile queen.
POPULATING indiscriminately.
Drones working, pushing, scraping the land clean until
EVENTUALLY
we roam so far we can’t return home
NOT intelligent enough to do the snip worldwide
How do you stop a cancer growth when the body doesn’t even know it’s a disease
– rather –
it’s glorifying in its growth.
Haiku
My auto senses
Catapult me into space
Orbit, no return.
My brain is fat on the comforts.
Bloated on constantly filled desires.
Made lazy by its lack of effort.
It is hard to force oneself to work for
SOMETHING
when a modecome of satisfaction can be filled instantaneously.
WORK
at SOMETHING, dammit.
——-
Comfort and Security.
My dream is to exist outside of society.
Not add to the waste that is never ending consumerism…
though I enjoy information & entertainment. I have
no need for things
ephemeral they are except
for the waste they leave behind.
——-
Travel is an odd state of fear
uncertainty
A bit of hopping in a bobsled
but never seeing the course
Safe travelling is strip malls
and Applebees
Jack n the Box and McDonalds
The comfort, the know what to expect.
I was young. Travelled to Eastern
Europe and had every moment
be a wonderment of
what might happen next…
Return to Frankfurt
found a Wendy’s
and experienced the missing
comfort of knowing what’s coming next
Even though I never eat at Wendy’s.
Comfort, pattern, engrained
rituals and safety.
I may be making the switch
for real
I get too annoyed with the particular format limitations of WordPress and Blogspot and I’m too cheap to upgrade.
Google Sites has its annoyances as well… but the things I like seem to be slightly heavier.
Latest poem splash is here: https://sites.google.com/site/mtrepetitions/home/poems/sittinginlighthousecoffeeproduced
I was asleep thirty years
I woke and found my nation
dry – hot
the land sucked by mutants
their bodies plump and rounded
with deficiencies of balance
their fingers spread across the land
a network of fences and wires
and the
imprints from their feet
with PSI so high
were miles deep
canyons in the land.
9/20/2010 © Andrew Swanson
My dear friend, hold a moment
I love your story
I feel for your plight
but the time on your meter
is exhausted.
You’ll need another dime
find another spot
to park your plights. Of course
you could stay anyway
and risk a ticket
and a court date.
9/20/2010 © Andrew Swanson
Reading a sexy
novel
all wrapped in velvet
and a sultry title
words trip turn
elegant like apple blossoms
and their budding fruit
explodes flavor on my tongue
text – a tingle on the tip
tip.
expectation.
9/20/2010 © Andrew Swanson
I am the one.
The important grasping hand.
In my day to day
as much as I
want to give, love, protect.
It all comes down
to me,
for me.
9/20/2010 © Andrew Swanson
Written while listening to The Legendary Pink Dots – Pennies from Heaven
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ff1vvIM0GCs]
Paradise
it has its price
————————————————–
I am drinking coffee
beans picked in Central America
roasted in California
ceramic mug fired in Singapore
shipped on a barge fueled from Brazil
milk from a happy California cow
stove top made in Germany
sugar’d sweet from Jamaica
the grounds and paper filter
will live in a landfill for years and years
the dirty water
will hit our sewer system
my urine
I am only drinking coffee
and writing on paper from felled Washington trees
with a mechanical pencil from China
In a nice warm room
heated by a furnace made of metal
burning Natural Gas, mysteriously available
and paid for.
Next I will complain
about the cloud cover and the missing sun
and wonder how real global warning could be
considering how little we’ve seen of the sun
lately.
And then I will wonder
what is is like to live
self – sustained. Alone.
I don’t think I can really know.
My knowledge is tainted by imports.
© 8/13/2010 Andrew Swanson
I’m not so much
a man
as a scarecrow
set out in the wild
to attract humans
gregarious
comfort
maybe more
a duck decoy
set out to float
by a lazy hunter
come along now, I’m waiting.
© 8/14/2010 Andrew Swanson
