February 10, 2017
If I lost strict control some
I could prick all billion bubbles
If I left my lost some
I could remangle my mumbles
‘Till concision at any cost cums
I’d come to untangle dareknots
‘Till a guilt spilt relief
Stains the air & remains there
October 27, 2016
“Where will I be When I go back home?
Who will I see When I’m all alone?
And What’ll I do?”
–David Crosby, from “Where Will I be?”
The main I’ve heard
Is that people want a partner
“So I don’t die alone”
umm, I Embrace, Tho’ waste, my own time.
At the end of all my nights
I might had been clean & clever enough
For her to had laughed, and had left
Her hand on my thigh
As I wait down the night sky
Toughening up for day.
August 16, 2016
When the carousel comes to where…
When the maelstrom makes certain turns to…
“This is where I came in!”
I’ll quip, and wink, and break up the fourth wall
I’ll step off, & start off, forcing a freefall,
& any form of free I will welcome.
If I find my feet I can become
A pilgrim on path,
A pilgrim back filling his path.
July 16, 2016
A different diffident is afoot.
But still when all’s been said
But still not done,
When waiting was a silent art worth it.
Now acting up mustn’t be shushed.
Not a tragedy of errors.
I’m fit to plot my way by fears,
By mist-led thoughts, clear by hushed omens,
Past icons, on through all the usual cues,
On to unknown, outta town one way roads. less lost
May 2, 2016
There’s wait then it’s takes eight hands to handle a casket
There’s swearing at yr insides/ & for authorities
There’s wait when you take yr few dreams to task
Then sweating out all yr insides before authenticity
April 17, 2016
I could, by unbinding, ease up by inches
I just could cease finding my itches
Intolerable, and irremediable
It could be that by trying
To untangle, to untie lines and
That not only the knotted, like burls in an oak,
But all that nestles, like the nettles across my chest ache
I could, unbinding, unbuckle, unshackle some,
I could go.
. (from 2012)
October 13, 2015
October 4, 2015
While you come out and say
You might await some communique’
I might just wait some
To formulate some take on
Raw data streaming onto the tarmac
(Surreally As filmstrip spills off a reel)
This all filling files somewhere
There must be plenty
Night, when there might have been plenty
I escaped unscathed, tho’ scattered
It remains to be seen & heard
If I would make it matter
It can be there may be plenty