Archive for 2012

some of us live holding our breath.
blood roaring in our ears, lungs stretched to bursting,
counting the seconds with our heartbeats
for day, months, years,
before we’re forced to exhale.
before the harsh waters of life come
rushing into our lungs,
drowning us.

some of us build scuba-gear.
smiling at our ingenuity
consciously,
really smiling at our self-delusion
made reality
subconsciously.
the self-delusion being that the ocean is tameable, handleable,
graspable.. by Man’s hands.
and that the waters of life really aren’t that harsh afterall.
too late do we realize that
sharks swim behind us, that
the air in our tanks is depleting, and that
eventually water rusts all things,
including scuba-gear.

and some of us learn how to breath underwater.
but it’s not easy.
Man is a land animal.

the stories were true,
the great flood is real.
it came, and it stayed.
noah’s ark is the myth.

her love was a tin cup.

she held it out to her sleeves.
farther even!

she shook and rattled it.
look at it! look at it!

her love was a tin cup.
a beggar’s kind of love.

demanding attention.
demanding affection.

demanding charity.

her love was a tin cup.
and I found out that

my pockets were empty.

baa, baa, black sheep,
have you any wool?
no sir, no sir,
i have no wool.

i gave it to you master,
i gave it to you dame,
and I gave it to you, little boy,
i felt to, i knew your pain.

black sheep, have you any love?
no sir, no sir, i have no wool.
i am naked, i am cold, i am dead,
and you were cruel.

there’s this poem I’m writing,
about why i love you,
it’s not finished yet.
it never will.

there’s this other poem I’m writing,
about why i hate you,
it’s finished.
it’ll certainly kill.

i’ll give you one.
i probably will.

my tragedy is that i’m too smart.

i learn too fast.
i get out too right.

my tragedy is that i have no tragedy.

i get out too light.

smile, put on the front that you’re better, even when you’re bitter.
they say.

don’t be a rebel, don’t be a dick. get on board, get on deck.
they say.

you’ll be fried trying to be freed. stay where you are.
they say.

you want to get fitter? oh, we’ll stop you – we have fetters.
they say.

stop trying to pick a better future for yourself. stop trying to pick a better future for yourself.
they peck.

that writing you do with your quill pen, quell it. now. or else.
they say.

those words you write, they’re six six six. those words you write, they’re sex sex sex.
we are religious. you are blasphemous.
they say.

stop writing your tails, you’re barely making taels. stop your foolishness.
they say.

your wrists, just try to wrest them from our grasp. just try!
they finally say.

…e before i, except after c.
they say.