310314A
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We search for various patterns,
as if still believing
that somewhere there is a piece
that makes sense of it all.
How monkeys came to reaching up,
to grab hold of handfuls of stars,
tossed about like sparkles at a ball,
scattered as sprinkles on cakes.
We see the ever increasing numbers
of sudden and total surrenders.
All those big and little illusions
as to how the future might unfold.
Ritual sacrifices regularly heaved
down the steps of various pyramids.
Nothing much having changed
since the first ape made the first example.
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070414A
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Winter takes them,
but we tend to bury the dead in spring,
the way our forefathers did,
when the ground thaws.
Kept in mind until then,
when everything migrates home.
The first butterfly cloud dancing
across last autumn's bones.
In spring there are flowers
on new graves.
My departed friend's ashes
meet the waters of a rushing stream.
Memories always blossom best,
when the seasons turn to kindness.
Dust of the road of life dispersed,
to the caress of water nymph sounds.
A persistent chorus that harmonizes
with the angel wings that rise above,
as that final form of punctuation,
to long late night conversations.
Eventually everything washes away,
to wherever all of life once began.
Atoms to atoms, dust to dust,
joining the silence of God.
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070414B
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A drummer is about sex,
pounding at skins.
It is all about rhythm,
and staying in the pocket,
of skin deep concentration.
So they tend to say,
about pockets of skin,
as the sticks keep churning,
echos in hollows,
filling up any openings,
as the rhythm moves deeper,
toward the cymbal cries
of little orgasms.
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070414C
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Sometimes we dream of doing
what our ancestors used to do,
and sometimes we dream of doing
what happens in the movies.
We dream of meeting the one.
We dream of not being under the gun.
We dream of all sorts of freedoms
that we cannot afford to own.
Give us this day something to dream,
something to dream that we can afford,
when we cannot pay as much as some pay
to buy themselves a Gideon's Bible.
Only another dream boy
always looking for his dream girl.
Only another dream girl
always looking for her dream boy.
Someone dreamt that Jesus saves,
but they cannot tell you at which bank.
A penny for your thoughts,
and keep saving for sweet dream homes.
Sometimes we dream of all the places
where we have never really been.
Sometimes we dream of all the faces
that we have never really known.
We dream of meeting the one.
We dream of not being under the gun.
We dream of all sorts of freedoms
that we cannot afford to own.
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070414E
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I tried to reach out to you,
on my Icarus wings.
I built them all by myself,
made of so many left over parts
found on factory shelves.
I thought I could be something
that you might really want.
Tragedies always begin that way,
there being too many ways to fall,
and no certain ways to rise up.
I wanted to climb so high,
that I could look into your eyes.
You likely never heard tell,
how I tumbled down to earth,
the way most everyone does.
I don't think about us anymore,
as I count my broken feathers.
Each one another ghost dancer,
reminding me how it all began,
in some ineffable moment.
As it is all counted down,
one turns to drinking cocktails,
while entering into idle conversations,
entertaining changes in chemistry
as ways to evade terminal monotony.
Sometimes systems of slowest suicide,
are all there really is to hang onto.
Most everything that was built up,
having been torn completely away,
exposing all the layers of pain.
It leaves only that one consolation,
that we will never share a tombstone.
Neither having to watch the other die,
in some typical end game scenario,
of last words and final kisses.
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070414F
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When I looked at your beauty,
I knew you were not for me.
The kind of reflexive response
life routinely tortures one to accept.
I never tend to hope anymore
for anything that is that beautiful.
Pretending that that protects you,
from all of my other failings.
One learns to flagellate thoughts,
that try to escape their punishments.
The new mortifications
always more insidious than the old.
I never ventured to say another word,
knowing I would be interrogated
for every suggestion as to any escape,
that your beauty might have offered.
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