| (no subject) |
[Oct. 7th, 2005|11:31 am] |
i think i've given up on the idea of this journal. my primary journal is under the user name: godforesaken. note the extra "e" and feel free to add. i used to think there was a distinction between what went in this journal and what went in the other, but really, there is not.
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| (no subject) |
[May. 30th, 2005|10:07 pm] |
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DON'T LEAVE A TRACE
1.
holiday stays lit another era
could not hear heaven through the impatiens
though it be a button up, signed, "decimally
yours"
(sun dribbles down your cheek)
all the kids came up saying the same knots and
sky whittled down to just one cloud
wet you with voice
with my expert cuss and on cue I defy starlessness
special breed of beating me over the head
which is fa so la.
which is to say: it's no bother, I'd be glad to
see the noise, yes, inside my, yes, rose.
2.
leave a
holiday
stays
another era one could not hear
through
buttons, "decimally yours"
dribbles
down the kids came up
saying
one cloud
wet
with cuss
cue
starlessness!
over
the head fa so la.
I'd
be glad to see
noise
inside my rose.
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| (no subject) |
[May. 27th, 2005|02:58 pm] |
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REUNION TOUR
was there nothing in it to tell
you that it was
just how
many miles per flower
per snap-on clouds, twist-top nouns of
the country side
so easy
on the eye
and the eye
so easy on it
so as to induce parachutes
today, the sky leaves
behind this soil
and is only
another word for
binomial nomenclature
shall we stampede
through alphabet-impenetrable
twitch of tranquility
like this quiet sort of
honing in
fronts
and backs have done with
have nowhere to go
but look--how sure his step
has him
has become
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| (no subject) |
[May. 14th, 2005|09:25 am] |
MILLION / FICTION
captive sums
of numbers
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| (no subject) |
[May. 11th, 2005|06:47 pm] |
CHAMISAL
they live
we live
the frame of mind is dark
oak and knotholes
with diamonds and rubies and kittens
in there. why should it matter
people out of harm
the soul still valuable
equally unremovable
not a daily sort of
yes or no question.
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| (no subject) |
[May. 9th, 2005|04:59 pm] |
SIDEWAYS MAINTAINS
the sideways maintains
tracery backdrop / orchestra-pink / formica-blue
otherwise petunias still or slowly
declared to filter mistakes of identity.
will one of us reset the needs
of infinity with a more modular definition
before bed.
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 29th, 2005|06:47 pm] |
INCREMENTS
she wore a bee in hers and rhymed with button-hole. through this
I place a semantic flower,
the meaning of which is double breasted. and red.
the meaning of which is two-fold.
she fell back into the air she had taken and claimed to have built.
there is no better edifice for draining the syllables
of meaning and cohesion. but being bonded like ''this,''
dressed to the letter, adorned with or by the ALPHABET,
an aperture regarded, and kindly, as intentional.
there were two of them defined as crimson. there were two of them
derived. crinoline sky. from which two parallel creases descending.
the matter was stolen or differently owned. not sunk in aging.
I am reposing the moment so as to chatter, while inwardly very quiet.
I emptied the units and put them back on the shelf. everything gets
digested eventually, as was originally meant.
/// we bought a new typewriter today. after fixing the 8/' key
and the 0/) key (the latter promptly fell apart again) I wrote
the above. I am drawn to it probably because it came from me;
like Owen wants to look at the poo before we throw the diaper away.
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 27th, 2005|05:57 pm] |
PROMENADE
into the future
the past predominates. there is no longer a pure
future but these times in which it is said
without consequence
did you have its limbs
rotted off.
is it doing
something it is not really doing at all?
admitting to what it never really…
and in doing so
doing well?
my future was intuitive; it is.
it intervened in my substance
dappled in
when you crush it up it has
an almost vulgar smell.
meanwhile, there is now
which only children may dip
their little fingers in
but never really possess
even though wonderfully printed
in dark velvety impressions.
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 25th, 2005|04:39 pm] |
POETICS BOOK
-------------------------------------------------------
my voice consistently
as if there was
no one listening
-------------------------------------------------------
my voice with
the consistency
of listening
-------------------------------------------------------
by speaking
I hear
you there
-------------------------------------------------------
by speaking
do you hear
me here
-------------------------------------------------------
here I am
where are you
talking about
-------------------------------------------------------
here is what
I am saying
without saying
-------------------------------------------------------
in a voice that
consists of the
grade "A" language
-------------------------------------------------------
fin.
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 24th, 2005|07:29 pm] |
ONE STARTS OUT
one starts out strong, straddles the point of view
"a town of lesser descriptors"
nonetheless a soft fixation of meaning
to be somewhere but not quite
establishing one’s self in the right frame
seeming to mean something
massive as the waning of the afternoon light
to have been with one’s back
so firmly to reality
is the reason for weighing in
in the evening
welcoming you to me by arriving
with a voice too gentle to be understood
and with a voice too gentle to be misunderstood
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 23rd, 2005|07:20 pm] |
SILENT BOOK
----------------------------------------------------
these words that
find us out
of silence
i try to find
something to do
with them
----------------------------------------------------
i try to find
something for them
to do
----------------------------------------------------
i try to have
them do something
with me
----------------------------------------------------
they try to find
something to do
with me
----------------------------------------------------
i try to
have them
with me
----------------------------------------------------
i try to
have to do
with them
----------------------------------------------------
fin.
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 23rd, 2005|11:53 am] |
FIVE STOREY GRIST MILL
thanks. thanks for the juice
I want to drink. it’s so good
and waiting is alright when
you know its purpose.
pieces, she says. I leave off
motionless in a type of permission,
arranged and described in spatial
columns. it’s like déjà vu, coming
to, feeling for our work. did we
leave our maps open all night.
I said the images come off. some
thing outside grows redundant—I
think it’s work. I think it’s grass.
I’m sorry that it is saturday and I
will have to go.
I am not saying that work or
grass is not legitimate. the light
is older than shadows because
it was so long en route.
what I am saying or meaning is that
one’s view of the world shifts in
relation to the number of people in
proximity. I like to observe something
with you.
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 22nd, 2005|01:27 pm] |
WELCOME HOME
cornerstone in the garden.
a corrugated rain fell through
her features
are a smooth bellied
sky peering over
who in the secret chocolate drawer. eats
by centimeters.
there is a stereo inlet
in me that saturates
and hardens the spectacle to
homecoming. wandered
about a bit
the backwards spark of my
hurtling into view.
the great blue heron
in the backyard
easily moves the climate within
rollover wind
roll top sky.
what establishes our symmetry
is the mathematical impossibility
of a remainder.
everything counted wayward.
by this i mean accounted for.
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 19th, 2005|07:06 pm] |
MIGRATION
saying hello to
the self you often suspected
but were not sure
you should always expect
a certain amount of questions
from one who so sincerely
gone for a slow and purposeful
walk under
leaves that in softness fall
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 15th, 2005|05:53 pm] |
PROGRESS
"i sold my big house, i divorced my
model wife" for what is the residue
of a simulacra
for what is it you
want to ring after
what work you carried or created
what would amuse you enough in this world
after words
is there a possibility
of boredom writing you off
picking up a crisp
one dollar bill
without a harrowing sense of guilt or forgiveness
(poem starting with something overheard at work)
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 14th, 2005|12:59 pm] |
THEORY
how many decibels
per line
has a poem
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 10th, 2005|07:59 pm] |
SORTING OUT THE EVENING
cancelled sleep on the roof. called to sleep.
some of them wedged the clock
into the service of causality:
"i think therefore i suck, but not without loving to do so."
the coast seen as or from a separation, with all those "waves" in simple rows
humbles now and then. us through the walls.
at breakfast what do we call these meticulous preparations
wrapped up so tidily. and with a sense of having worked hard;
the wires, hammers, and objects. composing and traveling to.
a place that never existed and never ends. will you be going somewhere along the way.
mincing granite of the shore, staying central.
staying open to expression, staying hidden. maps poured out of faith. a sentence
that is not a punishment, but an example or statement.
you can tell by the sediment.
the weekend shaved off that part of your name, called the sky a motherfucker.
in the photograph a mustache replaced the need for a cigar. mouthing the ornament.
elsewhere points to an exchange, places the pivot at a long time.
an entire, every, age out of joint but for the newness of you that doesn't wane.
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 6th, 2005|08:14 pm] |
THE GOOD NEWS
the good news:
I got in to dinner !
a single piece
from the desert tray
for us to share?
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 6th, 2005|07:56 pm] |
WALKING IS TOO TALL FOR THOSE LEGS
where is a lack of
circumstances a little late
and what about those things
you regarded as native
they were actually delivered
long ago
to have no tracks
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 2nd, 2005|07:12 pm] |
HELLO
what is going
on or down?
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