Sunday, January 13, 2013

18/100


Where the ailanthus grow large
Larger than I have ever seen
In this place I inhabit
Like some poverty dream

Datura are running
as fast as they can
their anthem is stunning
in this forgotten land

we buy our food
nonexistent in fund
lying about ailments
and things we’ve never done

conditioned in this place
its common in this land
to cry out like a child
and then claim to be a man

the roads are hopelessly broken
where dreams do not take flight
playing this serenade
with the people of the night

in the night Datura open,
louder than the train
silent in the darkness
relinquishing us again

the tears for the fallen
that haunt this place so deft
for a world that wastes nothing
for a realm with nothing left

within these cold nights
all that slips away
coyotes carrying on
for the coming of a new day

Friday, January 4, 2013

Under the hunter/still in the hood


Underneath the great hunter
The trains roll by, their horns cutting through the night, like the powerfully-dull whack of a machete
Across the street drug dealers …do their thing.
I hear dogs
whimpering in high pitched squeaks

like nettles stinging my ears
and seem so much like a scarecrow
standing in the yard
Leaning on my shovel, in awe of how many people will buy a pint of hard liquor before noon.
Dumbfounded by the regally blind, that constantly mob past
Unable to see the desert tobacco, for more than anything than a passing glance
The ephedra grows unruly as the nights and days merge
Conflicted within extremes that they will shed integrity
As their skin, leaving a crumpled mass in the skipping sand
Willing to do whatever is necessary
Surviving in this world for another day 

and I am among them
i am afflicted
survivalist,
landing like some windblown seed
from a jungle
exactly like this one
I am glad we have shared in this experience
because I have seen how orchids are as cactus
with innocence obliterated
on those balmy nights
where our flowers bloom
to the sounds of human chaos
offspring are of secondary importance
provided there's enough water
as we travel by night to conserve energy
our skin becoming leathery and worn
as we rub it upon the fabric of this realm
the smell of colitas
the distant crack of gunfire
somewhere in the distance the burros
run around under the stars and the coyotes try to eat them
occasionally you can hear of their victory
like whoop-whoop of some neighbor going to jail
under the flashing lights
the air pollution that lingers
like the ringing of the trains brakes splitting the air.
the hills rise like dark islands out of a never ending sea of lights
somewhere, it is all as it should be


Creeping Shadows


the shadows creep slowly
The road home is long
the bass has all but faded
we loiter to carry on

the letters still wet
plastered upon plastic walls
feeling nothing but prowess
echo a helicopter’s call

this is war
for the art we defend
the consequence of all-
in a life we never lend

it is the song of an alpha
the verse of king
in the shadows of a voice
with words that none ever sing

never backing down
but knowing when to run
in the blue hour of memory
snapping as the recoil of a gun

like the pawns in some game
hidden within this façade
as ants are to men
as men are to god

like some twisted folk hero
some cheap marionette
hiding in plain sight
where we check and then bet

make no mistake in this game
the stakes will run high
the end is always the same
across the river where they lie

the song carries on
silently in the night
with the words of my hands
sitting just out of sight 

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

The Rising Tide


Between all the words we don’t say
The planes vanishing into the clouds over the infinite black ocean
Venice at night; surreal in its absence
The clowns and jesters scuttled away somewhere to take refuge from the cold  
The tide smashing violently at the rocks as it comes in from a point so low in the sand I have never seen it there before
The foam running between our still legs, fracturing into little clumps of bubbles scurry back to the long curtainous waves like juvenile creatures that seek comfort
Your instrumental words are resonating across the ocean as the jet engines growl in the distance
What else would I expect of you?
This is why you’re here, now, in this moment
Dragging out into one long moment we’ve repeated so many times before
Drawn-out like the threads of fate; stretched tightly between Lachesis’ hands
Over curtains of foam charging back up the beach
Orange in the light pollution, smelling of feted water
The innumerable people and their inhabitations make us so small
I walked away
Trying not to think of the idea of never seeing you again
Where the kelp decays under an orange sky
you became an unidentifiable silhouette against the ocean foam
for a moment I felt comfort in the idea that we were just two shadows soaking in the stillness of the night      

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

irreverency


Before there is a placation to hunger
Before the solution there is
Violence. There is abuse, there is your way of dealing with me
That must be like some animal
That cannot be contained
hunger before there is concern
hatred before there empathy
I hate that I must call you my own
And be treated as such.
There is an obsession within you; that has in it
Only the will to dominate, a madness that has spawned out of impunity
a proliferation of impunity within myself
though you might feel as though you deserve mercy
You do not
You deserve what you have made
deserve what you have
And that is me
When time comes for your enfeebled old frame to take is last shuffling steps in this world know that I will be there if only to make them more painful
Know that I will wring the will out of you like the blood of mine you have spilled
I will crush you spirit so far into nothing
You will beg me for death
all the hurt you have brought me I have saved, archived in this unfair world
it will open up on you
as you opened up on me
a child
a monster
a torturer that that could put nothing before themselves
twist this world into a terrific spectacle
until nothing is left, but the way things could have been
to pass from this place as irreverently as you embraced me  

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

apathy


Moreso now than ever before
Ongoing like nevermore
The rally of the righteous
against the bane of all;
laying down arms in some attempt to call
there would be little, there will be none
in that place that remains so plainly undone
like more to be had, and more to be held
where the last of great giant remains unfelled
and I will wait, I will wait for you there
against the grain of the time that will inevitably wear
with the songs that remain still yet to be sung
abreast of the earth were you yet to be flung
where water falls still from the sky
the world never asks ‘what’ or ‘why’

with the trample and crush, the land and the space
the boiling cauldron behind this          place
and I’ll ask that you would, I’ll ask that you wont
push on in this aspect, as I do, but you don’t
and the words and scenario, the heart that lies pawned
a breathless vacuum where all of this spawned
so foreign in its context that none could relate
that the words tried to fill, and all wished to negate
but the rift was cast
the marks fell true
with so little left we were all forced through
then there was loss and then there was none
all was forgotten in a world so undone
  

Friday, November 2, 2012

Do you feel in control?


Sundering unstoppable
This sphere so palpable
Breathing deep
Deep into the ground

Trample and lay waste
To this fearful place
And arise from the ashes
The ashes once again

Defect and break away
Cut-rate in their own way
Running from the inevitable
Earth beneath your feet

There is fire upon the frost
Annealed among the loss
A desire seems to grow
With every passing stone

Making strides that hold so deft
Upon a way with so little left
The coyotes appear
When all the lights go out

Do you think you hold this place?
Are you occupying space?
They came to my aid
By devouring a rat

Beginning as if one knew
The purple leaves still grew
Against the crater in the ground
Without an afterthought or sound