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March 29 2014

surreality

earth

the soles of feet
clapping on pavement

birds make Vs in the sky,
crickets make noise at night,
automobiles trundle down highways
puffing exhaust, honking at geese

the moon
waxes and wanes,
pulling the tide in
and pushing it back out

the heartbeat of the earth
underneath
innocuous feet
Tags: poetry

March 13 2014

surreality

precipitation

spinning cylindrically
in the drippy-droppy rain
all the desires
of a scraggly dog
lifting its leg to pee,
of a child in rubber boots
crying from the cold,
of the irritated commuter
giving up on his inside-out umbrella

the strange clarity
of precipitation,
rain or snow or sleet,
the pathos that settles
on thatched huts
and mansions alike,
the puddles left in its wake,
the snowmen's crooked arms

the peculiarity
that is banished
from those hot summer days,
with noisy sprinklers churning,
rickety fans spinning the air

this transparent puzzle piece
that defies description
and erases explanation

wrapped up tight
in a coffeehouse window,
snaking itself around
a hot chocolate,
settling silently
on a snowbank.
Tags: poetry
surreality

moment

that moment
with the windshield wipers
setting the pace,
slowly wiping away
the cold and insistent rain,
the warmth from vents
caressing your toes,
the blurred streetlights
and traffic lights
all the green yellow red
muted tones slipping into
your mind, coasting along
your average yellow-striped road
what hides in there
searching for a home?
what hesitates to ask
its calmed and content mind
about 'something more',
about a change in tracks
about taking the left instead of the right
just to see where it goes
what lurks and lurks
and waits for the moment
when you're lulled into security
to disrupt you, to discomfort you
to leave you feeling
a certain vague disappointment
oft forgot after a minute
what intrusion
can we cherish
and which can we discard?

the muted streetlights
have no answer.
Tags: poetry
surreality

tornado

you want me to write
in a style like sunshine,
in a style like birds
with little clipped wings, hopping in the grass

the clouds bunch perfectly
in tight little puffs
scooting across the sky

small children see
boats, horses, and ducks,
green grass growing
with fresh vigor,
dandelions dotting the landscape

it cannot be this,
it cannot even be
the angry storm
with punctuating thunder
that follows quicksilver bolts of lightning
or the blanket of rain
each drop perfectly formed

more like a tornado
that demolishes
the perfect barn,
painted bright red
but skips over
the rustbucket one-story,
whose gutters dangle
like the lazy legs of a cat

it is that unsteady moment after,
the fractured peace
when you pick up the splintered wood pieces
still looking warily over your shoulder
for another funnel cloud
Tags: poetry

March 06 2014

surreality

yellowtape house

a mile of yellowtape house
wrapped up and glistening in gold
sparks of meadow, the sheen of the sun
the rabbit that runs, the rabbit that hides
quivering in the shadow of sunset,
the stalk of grain in its mouth
soaking up saliva

predator, prey
pick an angle
pick a lens:
a way to view
each storm window
each broken gutter

each stalk of corn
moonlight hitting the hills
a fresh kill, a fresh thought

the image painted in a picture
the image painted in a photo

miles and miles of yellowtape house
miles and miles of punch-tape sun
set in a humble story
by a second grader
nervously chewing his pencil
and eyeing the clock
for the release
of recess.
Tags: poetry

February 28 2014

surreality

nine to five

if i can spit out one thing
from the gasping squeezing wrenching
compressing twisting
force of existence
if i can make it to the top
still breathing,
if i can dive under
and make it up again,
if those two days
can make it worth five
somehow swimming
still, somehow
breathing still
somehow still
making sense
when i craft words
then i suppose
i made it through the day
Tags: poetry
surreality

mailbox

digging through the mailbox of unfortunate ends
climbing walls the loop back onto each other
the mobius strip of boredom
the mobius strip of pain
the mobius strip of what is tomorrow,
what can my squinting blurry eyes see,
what curtains should i peel apart
and gaze into, across abysses yawning with doubt,
across oceans of uncertainty,
the starfishes of probability popping in and out,
the sharks that pray on the weak,
the beautiful and the dead
eight different paths
and only one walking stick,
nine different skies
and only one plane.
Tags: poetry
surreality

cycles

the loneliness of looking through
a single window
hours on end
a rat on its wheel
running and running
to the same static place
nestled in cedar
the relentless sisyphean ordeal
of each human shuffling along,
each body inhaling and exhaling,
each waking-up, each going-to-sleep
to hammer out an origin
in each and every step,
to draw aside the curtains of monotony,
the repetition of the hours
to find a simple joy
in endless routines,
spiraling into centuries,
the minute-by-minute
day-by-day
century-by-century
struggle
of all life.
Tags: poetry
surreality

winterbeast

this is not
the calm of winter
a streak of sunshine
across a snowy landscape

but it is pretty look at:
tree branches with snow spread on,
clean streets blocked in by feet
of soft white rain packed tight

running in rivulets
down into the sewers,
icicles sliding down from roofs
and catching themselves short
before falling

winter is a beast
and to believe it calm
is simply an illusion:
the day after
cleans itself up
for better viewing.

it is no use
defending it:
for the chaos hides
in every season.
Tags: poetry
surreality

time

combing through a decade
on your way to the beach

scrubbing walls
as you deconstruct
the war of 1812

time in a spinning circle,
time in straight lines,
time in inconsistent geometric patterns

time as a myth
a story to tell children at night
a system to rail against
in the throes of misery

the grains in an hourglass
slipping and sliding
or falling gently
in exaggerated descent

but always running, running faster
dreading when
time nips at your ankles,
time arrives,
a multifaceted beast
with no subtlety.
Tags: poetry

January 29 2014

surreality

on the train

on the train i saw my face in the window
superimposed on to another's body,
briefly living another life,
staring into an ocean of possibility,
another breakfast lunch and dinner,
another lover's arms,
another sister brother mother father,
a brief separation/journey away
from the fatigue of each day
pounding ceaselessly onto me
through the looking glass
if it were as easy as that
if it were as simple as gliding over the countryside in an open-top automobile
grasses and flowers cascading by
a road to an eternal universe
where truth is superimposed on beauty
Tags: poetry
surreality

her majesty's garden

when you wind me up into a ball
out i spring, ready for nothing
unfurled into a chaos of winds
an ever-changing climate that sears
and tears, whipping and whirling
a world full of this and yet
moments of emptiness
echoes of boredom
these things collide
somewhere i cannot see
somewhere i cannot be
always one or the other
engulfing me wholly
to speak in absolutes
is to lie, but to carefully consider
each and every day
would be even more excruciating
than peeling the petals off
every flower
in her majesty's garden
Tags: poetry
surreality

is it enough

if i could force
these hands to spin
(delving deep
into the catacombs
of my brain,
dusty, musty poetry,
old ideas left to rot)
as often
as I dreamt
of doing-
as often
as once
I did, no paper enough,
no fingers flying through keys,
whirlpools that rage,
too-much-too-quickly
but with a rush of adrenaline,
something gets painted,
an approximate picture,
an impressionist letter
to the gods in my head,
to ask them, is this enough?
will this do?
and it is all enough, today,
to try,
to set a-spin
a rusty wheel,
to coax a dying ox
to wish upon
a star already collapsing
into a black hole -
and these are all too bleak

except i don't know where to shine the light.
Tags: poetry

January 05 2014

surreality

midnight

And pulling into your heart yourself every sweet experience every tender moment every drop of chocolate heaven on your tongue the perfect kiss the ceaseless laugh the secret that rattles but deep down you know it doesn't matter in the face that shines and if you can't remember
if it really doesn't compare if you know it automatically without having to think it's true and you don't have to doubt you only have to hope it echoes in the same way in the person whose kiss seals your fate the person carrying your heart in their hands it sounds like a stupid metaphor but the more ludicrous it sounds the truer it is speaking volumes through a dusty history book illuminating every corner of consciousness and floating ethereal above your head this secret truth this known mystery this crafting of your being in the hands of another the fireworks of his essence flowing into yours changing every single cell in my body and binding it to his so sweetly so tightly so magnificently

And it squirts so effervescently into the bloodstream the perfect metaphor for existence because it is so literal because it is so necessary to encourage every other part of your body beating and your brain and guts and organs every bit of spleen all makes the gorgeous engine of the machine that is you shining glinting in the sun flowing into the heart of saturday night and crashing gently into the arms of mother nature gently encircling you feeding you the milk of the earth it is the beginning of the end of the beginning it is every wheel of all the times in all the cycles of the universe
Tags: poetry
surreality

shining aching transcendent

Right when the button is hit
slipping through rocks
swimming through rivers
and a jet into the air
like the first flight of fish
it all swirls into one
inside a vessel
so uniquely shaped
twisitng and turning
forming the oasis
for the banality of life
formed the scalloped hallways
of the echoing halls of justice
behind closed doors
secrets kept so dear
but still shining through
nothing to break the spirit
nothing to break the heart
just somethign enough to reflect
and realize those
essential tough complicated truths
that swim through your veins
that make you the shining aching transcendent human fucking being you are
Tags: poetry

December 07 2013

surreality

thoughts:dreams

with your eyes closed
you never blink twice
because in a flurry of movement
from left to right
eyeballs in line
you're dreaming of diamonds,
you're crashing and cascading
without limits, without walls
without barriers, without fear
but it is also, quickly,
no sense, no rhythm,
no stopping, no pattern

a relentless
slamming-into-walls
of all the disarranged pieces
of a normal/abmormal/whatisthat psyche
it would be too mundane
to say
"a roll of the dice"
more
"a roll of the neurons and syntheses
and processes and memories
connections/thoughts/hopes/

i don't even see
through that window,
it is so clouded
with the unwelcome remembrance
of the happenstances
of dreams

and so often,
it is those left,
staining a path
through the field
Tags: poetry

November 13 2013

surreality

a poem compiled from statements from that "what would i say" app

dear everyone, i am
if you're every nerdy boy I know
If you've got to talk to anyone
if you're lost I'm getting there, and left under anesthesia...
because privatized medicine is the motel on route 9
getting better is definitely helping
got the official nod from an empty cup
I'm positive now
love is not voting against it
basically, you use it
but maybe we should start paying attention
it's the watering hole in your lies
but maybe we should start again a million miles away

Tags: poetry

October 25 2013

surreality
step calmly
into jurisdiction
shower your eyes
onto a multifaceted stage
glimmering with potential
risk/reward
all the jargon
of business-suit-and-tie
all the apprehension
of mouse-caught-in-cat's-eye
climbing up the walls
to hang precipitously
from the ceiling,
nails dug into peeling plaster
twist and turn
under the hot spotlight
precariously perched
on a pedestal
as sweat swims
over your face
and a thousand clowns laugh,
watching you
perform their last failed act
without as much splendor,
no wink in the eye
no elevation of rank
no jeweled crown
for the one without
the audacity
to breeze by
the core of sincerity
does no good
on a sweat-splattered,
paint-grimed,
devastated stage
Tags: poetry

August 07 2013

surreality

harmony

when you are
ecstatic arches of light
i am
scintillating off your surface
glowing through your limbs
you embody me,
a starfish
stretching out your arms
toward the everlasting sun,
until the crescent moon
lowers your lids
softening you
into the sand,
pressing the nature of your being
into a landmark on the beach
waves washing over
giving shape to
a statue-structure
of everflowing life,
a vivacity of happiness
the sharp but clear cry
of a maniac
with the cognizance of
the cause of his illness,
the cure a breath away
that nascent joy
at the apex of some mountain
symbolizing the greatest form
this happiness can take:
you breathe through my gills
beat through my heart
like two parts in a symphony
finally coming together
from discordance
to form the most perfect,
brilliant,
pure harmony
Tags: poetry

July 18 2013

surreality

ice

you wear your disaffection
like a coat,
as if it would warm
the frozen bones
that lace your being

as if denial were a place
one could stay in;
a posh hotel room
lit with candles,
scented soaps,
hot water running
from the taps

as if that drink
would dissolve your distrust,
your fear,
the broiling confusion,
calm it into
a placid sea
and we could skate
across the ice

but it just stirs it up,
offering a false calm
before the storm,
tearing through you,
i can see it in your eyes

i could see it
in your eyes

once
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