Raspy wind hauls mist
Through shrouds, coats pines, heavy weight
Suffers the morning
———-
I’m a burning ember
Left covered in grey, a mine,
A beach-goer’s foot
———–
Trendy facial hair
It grows a barbed wire weed
Where is my whacker?
———–
7/11/2010
Figure it as a dance
elephant feet
stomping
a rhythm
a fry
a bomb
like a rooster
in morning ecstasy.
——————————-
What do you say
to a little mental party
where we step away
from reality
much needed
escape
from reality
——————————-
I saw a girl
she had a target logo
tattooed on her ankle
above
flip flops
below
capris
Champion lime green
and dark blue
and
red hair.
—————————-
Nature
will
burst your bubble
suddenly
with reality
looking for less
real
than anything imagined
———————————
statistician
show me something surreal
something shocking
show me a mirror
with an image you can’t explain.
6/14/10
Two thousand and ten
ways to complain, gripe, moan, fight
about tomorrow, yesterday, tomorrow.
This ain’t no oil slick
It’s a goddam La Brea’ Pit
Bigger than TEXAS
We’ll be fossilized
twinki-ized. Mammoths will munch
our tasty morsels candied bodies
and philosophize –
Were they carnivores or veg?
warlike or peaceful social or selfish?
They’ll count our fingers
note the opposable thumb
and wonder what for? And envy our grip?
Then deep in the earth,
discovery. Our trash pits
buried deep – hidden – precious.
Maybe they’ll figure
how to burn it – heat their homes
and commute to work.
Is that Irony
or simple repetition?
Two thousand and ten.
This particular tree
stands before me
with an attitude.
It’s forward lean
and all its limbs reaching
stern
old
strong,
yet I’ve only been here
five minutes.
Thought bubbles adrift
over the foggy water
hidden by the mist.
They float hidden gems,
cornflower, chartreuse and green,
an important whisper
Can I just grab one
without bursting it’s fragile
shell? Evaporate.
Just one.
——–
Hectic
wasps a dive
of adrenal fluid
static in the blood
fist pump reach
grasp grab
thump thump
heartbeats thub
Desperate latch
to run, flee
hide
with fists
heart locked.
——–
HORROR SHOW
Sounds
Pretty darned good
in Russian
——–
GLAD to see your look
of perplexity as I
prod at your
sensibility.
Why?
What gain do I…
How does it serve…
I’m like a rat in a maze
finding the cheese
but not eating.
6/2/10
Rest with me, moment
Let the world go by slowly
We’ll catch a raindrop
Scraggle
a burn
fragment to a loosely held
snowball of sand
grains fine enough to clump
yet coarse so that the lightest pressure… just a touch
and collapse in a tender moment
to a pile of disconnected dreams.
————–
My roots, my foundation
stretch far into the earth
tendrils seeking nutrients, water
so that I might grow. They are strong.
But sometimes
I feel those roots
have outpaced the growth
visible
on the surface.
My spindly limbs
—-wave wildly in the wind
—-droop in the rain
and wilt in the sun.
Today I’m tempted
Salty sand, skin so shiny
Raw relaxation
Somehow so simple
Rest, recline in Aruba
Try this temptation
Really, I’d rather
Tomorrow, taciturn, be
Static, slick with sweat
Eristic:
Dictionary.com
adjective:
1. Pertaining to controversy or disputation; controversial.
2. Of argument for the sole purpose of winning, regardless of the reason.
noun:
1. Argument for the sole purpose of winning, regardless of the reason.
2. The art of disputation.
Wikipedia.com: Eristic dialogue is arguing for the sake of conflict as opposed to the seeking of truth.
related to Argumentation Theory.
Everlasting words stand on the front lines
Raging in an endless battle.
In their sights range their mirror images
Standing strong as reciprocals.
Today they fight. Tomorrow they fight.
In search of only
Celebration.
