poetry roundup

ideal.eyes

ocd101

la sonrisa inspiradora

your shampoo has fallen in love with your soap

ruine'd,i

one year has passed

overheard ...

... now you're speaking in third-person inanimate? that can't be a good sign

right?
everyone
love
just
you

oh, yes

there are worse things than
being alone
but it often takes decades
to realize this
and most often
when you do
it's too late
and there's nothing worse
than
too late.

~Charles Bukowski

ruine'd,i

exceedingly clever
read so many books
classic contempt
or airy slight looks
yet she is so different
else crazy in sane
linguistic el a-bomb
a nation in bane

creative homework ...

i once complained to a friend that i was bored at work (who, me?!) ... she responded with a list of 'creative homework' for me to complete to keep myself (and her) entertained ... the first assignment read as follows:

Your shampoo has fallen in love with your soap. Help it write a love letter.

i am quite proud of my response:

Over there
on your shelf
I can hardly contain
my volumizing self
And when you work
to trap the dirt
that’s when I look down in awe
from my hairy perch
And see you, darling
your bubbly true self
released from behind bars
your spring-like smell
And soon, my sweet
we will take that ride
down the body together
when I can’t hide
My exhilaration
at our sudsy union
a PH balance
made in heaven
A roller coaster
of emotion and pain
as we loose ourselves
down the drain


My soapy lover,

I know that you are Irish and I am nothing but a silly Italian concoction, but I assure you … I do have style! My friend xxxxxxx has arranged a meeting for us on this dirty-girl we clean. Take the right shoulder down past the collar bone and you’ll hit a beautiful, smooth, almost horizontal bit. Hang on there, my love, and wait for me. Try not to slip ... and I will try not to come too early this time!

Thinking of you,
Alberto

one art

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

~ Elizabeth Bishop

too impressed one; inseems

joyous communication
disheartening coincidence

i say, art for arts sake
... and they can kill me for all i care!!

fibbery ...

One
Small
Precise
Poetic
Spiraling mixture:
Math plus poetry yields the Fib

this time ...

this time I need to know
I really must be told
if it's over
it's up to you, you know
the things you want to hold
are in pieces
crashing down
crashing down again
crashing down
crashing down my friends

I've got to move it on
I've got to sing my song
while I still can
dispatch the last alarms
hand out the last few charms
there's no surprising
only love
only love can win
crashing down
crashing down again
only love
only love will win
crashing down
crashing down again

this time I need to know
I really must be told
that's it's over
I've lived my life alone
my every step foretold
to never linger
and yet it haunts me so
what are we letting go?
the spell is broken
crashing down
crashing down my friend
crashing down
crashing down again
only love
yeah, only love
will be enough
yeah, only love will win

for every chemical
you trade a piece of your soul
[with no return]
and who you think you know
doesn't know you at all
[their drain is needless]
someday we'll wave hello
and wish we'd never waved goodbye
[to this romance]
we'll drink up every line
and shoot up every word
['till there's no more]
crashing down
crashing down my friends
only love
only love can win
so, cry these tears
we'll cry as all
we've held so long
to fall apart
as the curtain falls
i bid you all goodnight

chalk

for june ...

and as it was with all things, we spoke in rhyme and riddle...not for fear of detection, for that had happened long ago, but rather that those who had secretly wished to be spoken to were... to know that these words were intended for them and theirs only...for lonely isles and windswept curses held the symbols transmuted and divined to hold within, to keep forever... only a warm heart and a knowing smile granting entrance to this mystery...

for every age held it's oracles and truth tellers, it's false bell ringers of alarm, and of course the hollow spectres of complacency...so in this we sing the true echoes sown of old cloth, born to stare so ravaged by all they see...because truth is madness and madness truth truly revealed, and to see is to always see too much...to bear witness to the false and right and relay backwards and forwards that which you know...love the constant signal that heals and promotes as our truth teller sleeps inside furious walls, thrice blessed and crimson cursed...his story is the same story, and as with all without ending...a boy and a girl, simple yes but eternal always...glass plays, the machines shakes voltage, and the gaze is drawn again and again in uncertain lines...one ray catches a june eye, our angel who has waited so long...frozen to witness, we can walk around and survey this moment as close to perfection as any that have ever been, to see the joy, the exalt, the arrogance...with it's sheer violence of embrace and release slowly offering teeth gritting awareness, the song ends, the lovers arc, and in this bliss there is hope, expectation, and yes, pure and indivisible love...

the girl, his love, the light that would transform any story into the moon and it's sister stars...she had no faith but that which destroys, and had only known herself in coarse mirrors, giving over and unto whatever moved her...opium eyed and gouge mouthed, she stalked a barren trail because she believed that all that was good had died long before she was named...she the reflection in glass, he in her that which he could not claim, her in him that which she so desperately needed, forever breaking...she had chased black holes of silence to find peace, and in turn that darkness swept into her a fever that was unshakable...their fates had intertwined long before they were lovers, their moment extending back before a time their eyes first met, and that bond was eternal, thru fire and chard to meet again and again until this moment, our apex and conclusion...

these lights rise to search the heavens, straining to be recognized in sanctity, purity, and insolence...to hopefully catch the gaze of a supreme intelligence, watching us quietly and nodding a silent approval...because it is with faith and faith only that one justifies the reach, with little to confirm but glimmer and awe, ritual and circumstance alike...

~bc

eloisa to abelard

how happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
the world forgetting, by the world forgot.
eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd;
labour and rest, that equal periods keep;
"obedient slumbers that can wake and weep;"
desires compos'd, affections ever ev'n,
tears that delight, and sighs that waft to Heav'n.
~alexander pope
~and a great film

i'll believe in anything

give me your eyes
i need sunshine
give me your eyes
i need sunshine
your blood, your bones, your voice, and your ghost

we've both been
very brave
walk around
with both legs
fight the
scary day
we both pulled the tricks out of our sleeves

but i'll believe in anything and
you'll believe in anything

if I could get the fire out from the wire
i'd share a life and you'd share a life
... if I could take the fire out from the wire
i'd take you where nobody knows you
and nobody gives a damn

and I could take another hit for you
and I could take away the trips from you
and I could take away the salt from your eyes
take away the skin and salt in you
and I could give you my apologies
by handing over my neologies
and I could take away your shaky knees
and I could give you all the olive trees
and look at the trees and look at my face and look at a place far away from here

so give me your eyes
i need sunshine !
give me your eyes
i need sunshine !
your blood, your bones, your voice, and your ghost

wolf parade

i got a hand

so I got a fist

so I got a plan it's the best that I can do

say it's in god's hands?

but god doesn't always have the best..god..damn..laid..plans!!

say la la la la la la

dear sons and daughters of hungry ghosts

currently listening to ...

i'm comin' Straight Outta Compton with a loose cannon
i smoke big green (call it Bruce Banner)
watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch
from way back with the pop rocks (I pop lock witchya)
picture this: Dr. Dre twistin' with the licks, and Hittman bought a fix
don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch
hear it .. tick .. tick .. tick .. {*BOOM*}

f p t

but i can't help the feeling

I could blow through the ceiling!

if i just turn and run

.

.. and it wears me out

this diorama drama ...

situation comedies
and serial dramas
dislocated priorities
emotional dioramas
seen through the peep-hole
not birds-eye but fish
life swims free fore ward
rememories kissed
by playlist emotion
love befriended away
state sanctioned by no-one
is no-place to stay

listening to tori...

i think there are pieces of me you’ve never seen
maybe she’s just pieces of me you’ve never seen...

all the world is
all I am
the black of the the blackest ocean
and that tear in your hand
all the world is dangling for me darlin'
you don’t know the power you have
with that tear in your hand
that tear in your hand

dot dot dot

extra time
spare change
measurements deranged
off the rails
my rocker! wails:
experience
feel!
peel back the masks
but never fail
and what of now
my dreams without
i gasp for air
(they silent stare)
begin again
but now aware