new poetry blog

i have a new poetry blog now

http://www.fivefifteenbirds.blogspot.com/

check it out

test

this is a test in a place where tests
are absolutely useless except for stress
collapsing our lungs and arresting our chests
we test away our lives and never progress...

woah woah kitty katz

i am planning my escape
from this j-j-j-jail hey!
and frosted little napkins
tell exhausted little captains
to collect all of the little men
that reek of cinnamon (or strawberry?)
and wrap them in tin foil
to save for laaaaater!

hey you kitty kat yes you kitty kat
don't come-hey-you can't come back
ima gonna toss you this here scratchin-mat
wrapped tight in disguise
but stitched loose with benevolent lies, oh yea
hey kitty kat i'll follow you back
to the j-j-j-jail...

the potter and the poet
bring the people from the town
to effigies-listen please-of kitty kitty diddy zees
from the pazt pazt pazt
and nothing brings them back back-hey-you can't come back

but we'll wrap them in tin foil
to save-sa-ve-lest they spoil

hearts fly with heavy clothes

the drops wandered down my face
they collected in the corners of my eyes
they ran behind my ears and under my chin
they weighted my hair and my jeans

the night rain pooled in my hands
and seeped beneath my skin
it swept through my body like
the flood, it washed my heart
clean.

soaking, freezing, we found
that the rain could wash away
everything in our lives and leave
completion. bliss. relief.

consummate resolve.

the night rain collected on the road
we splashed it with our feet
and we smiled holding hands
all the way to heaven.

tortured by diamonds

i see her through a handful of
diamonds
and she is indescribably
right
she is disarmingly
unaware.

the light bends around her
and i see every color
reflected

i cannot touch her but she
wears my hat and she
smiles

i see past the dark glasses to
a landscape of memories
collapsed

i look at her and see it

it is everything but me; it is
someone else; it is the past
few summers; it is stealing my
memories; it is my memories;
it is a lesson; it is the placeholders;
it is my backscar; it is my one
question; it is my cold bed; it is
my last attempt to make a stand;
it is the only thing i've got to
fight for; it is her mother; it is
watching from behind; it is
strawberry flavored; it is a fleeting
hope; it is a loyalty untold; it is
unchanging; it is permanent; it is
open like a wound open like a question
open like surprise her head on my
shoulder
at church
open like the beach at midnight
open like it is-

what have i become

tortured
by
diamonds

Beauty

a wooden foot spins a wooden wheel
a clay man throws a clay thought
a broken soul meets a broken self
a painted smile casts a painted light

and the artist works all through the night
letting none witness the painful death of a loved memory
keeping to himself the birth of a beautiful thought
this masterpiece that could save his life

he gently cradles the thought and rocks it to sleep
for its first night he must be careful
he must protect it or it will die of hatred
he must tell no one of Beauty

sarah paints smiles across fields of people
and the clay man throws a mountainous, painful night
but the artist works alone, as the poet watches
in awe of the incredible creation

in awe of what Beauty could be.

From Clay

what does it mean
that you’re gone

am i broken?

the last time your hair
your hands

never threw away your picture

this bed
is so cold
without you

am i broken?

what does it mean
to be alone
and cold

where are you right now
if i could hold you
i would never
throw away
this bed
so cold
and
broken?

clay
lonely and wet
cold and wet
alone and wet
without shape
wet
sit on the stone
and spin
and spin
sit on the stone
wet
without shape
wet and alone
wet and cold
wet and lonely
clay

your hands
without your hands
touch me
put your thumb
inside my soul
and your forefinger
about my body
and shape me
as i spin

pinch my heart
until it rises
until it rises
pull my spirit
from the bottom
to the top
from the stone
to shape

from clay
to life.

dawn

i woke up before light could wake me
i woke up to beat the pain
my world was shaded black
but i could hear you breathing

i woke up before the light
and i was still a part of you
there was nothing but
the simple cadence of night

alas dawn waits for no man
light seared the curtains
and i could see the clock
and i could count the minutes

i tried to suspend
my mind inside
your simple
cadence.

light knows nothing of love
it treats us all like we are
nothing more than separate
nothing more than alive.

the light ripped through me
and i saw myself
without you
alone

a mourning love.

--you're a beautiful creation oh i open my eyes and the world is so alive because of you every second of the day makes itself into something i want to hold on to forever or longer

like the angel of acceptance you are my beautiful creation my love and the rain falls down on our heads the rain is so perfect and soft and warm it reminds me of my mother's tears when she told me she would always listen to me and that i never had to worry about her loving me because she is my mother and that's what mothers do, love their sons

single caress you are the moment i have chosen you are the purpose and the instant beautiful creation listen as i whisper you the songs that lull you to sleep you are the beautiful creation my love my angel i will always sing you into peaceful--


i am
love's
one
night
stand.

collect your things

sarah painted me a picture of time
her canvas was literally miles long
i asked her, begged her really, to
only use the highest quality paint
imported straight from italy and
never touched by metal or any
other disgusting machinery

of course i paid for the paint and
canvas, and then i paid for her
time. i paid myself to pose in
front of her on a golden box that
i bought before gold was precious.
i made gold precious that day,
when sarah painted me, by begging
sarah to paint a tiny, white and
yellow gleam on the right corner
of the golden box. people who
care about gleams also care about
money and they bought my gold.
it was easier than i had expected.

i also had sarah paint a gleam
on the edge of my forehead
on the left side, unfortunately.
i should have chosen the right
because i did not become any
more precious than i was before.
instead i became an icon that
no one could touch or love.
it hurt more than i expected.

i had the painting, the gold,
myself, the gleam, and more
if you count my sudden wealth
of neglect, rejection, and self-
disgust.

i sold the painting for seven million pounds.
i sold the gold for eleven pounds.
i sold the gleam for twenty pounds.
i sold the neglect for twelve touches.
i sold the rejection for an afternoon date.
i sold the self-disgust for a dollar.

and i sold myself for your time.

4x4 forest

there were several green trees surrounding my place
i lived in the center of the city

the green would expand in the summer and contract in the fall
the city did the opposite

i likened the tiny green worms that hung from my branches
to my tiny neighbors across the hall

i likened the worms to myself as well, and to all the other people
all the people in the city, at least

but i soon found out after a long discussion that they were not
worms at all, they were simply leaves

they were leaves of the tree, tiny leaves yes, leaves that moved
like a worm and they talked like a worm

but if a leaf says it's a leaf you do not argue. you simply hold it
close to your chest until it falls asleep

and it will dream for hours at a time, with images of adam and
gardens and what it's like to be a worm

i laughed at the leaf after it was sleeping, because i could easily
see that it would never be a worm

as long as it kept convincing people that it was a leaf
in the middle of a city.

petals

silent as the last conversation
we sit and wonder and wait and
lonely we sit, together

but sound approaches like a
deafening train the sound is
innocent and unwarranted yet
it reaches us in the only
moment we will ever know
and it touches us and we
collapse with exhaustion
terrified that we might touch
ourselves, each other

and then we do touch
and sound caresses us
as light would a dying petal

forever, we sing
as a sunrise

sail

i am abroad and sailing
the edges of the earth are
at my palms; there stands
the mountain, the colossus
there i shine my sword
there my soul shines like
years of determination
culminating in a single moment...

and where are you?

lost in the a turbulent, tiny sea
with a devilish circling current
it will always bring you back
to nothing more than itself

don't give up on me, world
i'll be back soon.

fearless child, beautiful youth.

i love you and i am not afraid no
i am not afriad

let them sleep

passionate steam rises up like a translucent dancer
it catches on the ceiling while we sway to the music
it swirls on the walls and cushions my back, your back
as we smile thanking each other for creation and love

the water falls down like a shield from God
it protects us and warms us, it brings me into you
a drop wanders down your back peacefully, sweetly
as we close our eyes and thank God for everything alive

my fingers trace the steam and the drops of water
as your eyelids flutter and lips part
restful like sleep yet exciting like birth
above us the essence of time smiles broadly

and shields us from the world.

satisfied

the man who never knew

i won't leave soon
and i'm smiling into blackness
sleeping through the edges of
colorful pages in a colorful novel
a suspensful thriller a #1 best seller
or at least it would have been if
i had ever taken the time to
finish writing it

the man who always knew

i will leave soon
why bother i snarl into blackness
sleeping through the edges of
grey blue pages in a broken novel
a suspenseful nothing a never-seller
or at least it would have been if
i had ever cared enough to
finish writing it

the man who we all knew

i may leave soon
but i am ready i shine into blackness
fiery words in calming colors mark the
edges of a lively novel, a #1 seller, a machine
that gave me life because i wrote it
and you smile while you cry at the end
because i finished writing it
every single day.

dinosaurs never made it this far

i am an american
filled with television
slathered commercialism
an omnivore by nature
i hate broccoli, asparagus, onions, and peas
i like chicken, beef, shrimp, and fish
in a day i listen to music for more hours than i sleep
i restrict myself to 4 channels on tv
like some sort of diet
i memorize commercials
like they're vegetables

we are riveted
by each other

and we'll diet till we drop

nonsense travels too quickly

i am the scarred edge of a collective truth

tortured as the irresistible canvas

speckled with abstractions and colloquial mumblings

can the harp play this song for us?
while we dance in rags and chains?

hold brother hold. mock the lessons papers learn
printing me hastily, without research.

i am the legend. i am the key.
sin is mapped out over the entire field.

and nonsense travels further than the most important truths
like: stay tonight.

and: i'll cook you breakfast.

and: i'll wake you with a kiss on the forehead.

and: live without regret, eggs, toast, no ham. a small glass of 2% milk. one fork. three napkins. a tray with a candid shot of santa. shirt, sheets, hair, no rubberband. a biscuit, trust. a fruit, smile. a dream, shared.

and: i love you, come to me and be happy.

a tire, a dream, and a tambourine

wind and mist like rice and butter
a howl like mamma's call for supper
the extra kiss beneath a bridge
like grandma adding 'just a smidge'

can a white cube sweeten the afternoon
dissolving in tea like a southern moon
adding syllables to the evening air
slipping off tongues like an evening prayer

well into the night we swing
a tire, a dream, and a tambourine

sumo wrestle in the park

i am desperate for your love
passionate one i dream of you
passionate one i cannot touch
the angel of my dreams

live in a city far away, love
be yourself and never see me
make money or tease men or drink
but when you come home to dream
there i'll be

and we cannot be together now
and the pain rips through me--
a timely laceration of the soul.

but my love remember:

i am the moment and the place
in which you will find
a simple harmony;
a shared peace.

surrounded

you write in black and white
what color are the evenings
when the sun sets by the sea
what color are the first dates
when a glance starts butterflies
what color are the faces
when they see you unguarded
what color do you find in minutes
spent by the fire on a cold night
spent with a lover on morning trips
spent with a lover over the wires
spent alone on top of the Mountain

you write in black and white
but never let that stop you
from saturating your being
with vibrant life.

remaining red bulb and stencils

the last exit sign
shined bright over the earth
orange and red bright bright bright!
but no one went to it
not a soul left our precious circle
we were together at last we were together
all of us together
and we used the exit sign
to light our all-night dance parties

just in case

i contemplate, too.
i question, too.
i dream of contentment.
and what lies ahead
no one knows.

but i wrote a song
just for you.
just in case.