A Year of Poems

like kaleidoscope shards
we roll over another
the muse of a great observer

my ultimate
my coenaesthesis
iridescence
this lambent celestial creature
that I lay beside you under
the macroscian throngs
of the racked and
crumbling valley
is not of comfort;
exactly –
but neither of fear

she has eyes,
i know;
but the way 
-- her lips --
the way they hide
the morsels of dessert
and slip
	slowly off
her fork
(she knows i'm watching
 she closes her eyes)
sighs like in bed;
	they purse
relax
       the soft curve
of their edges;

the soft curve
of their edges...

maybe	
	a father

a man reclined
	
  so slow...

evening light drains
night sky is hidden

stubble		creeps  forward
     ash	 creepsforward

pupils
	
	inhale

muscles freed

heart meanders


time
no longer(;) believed

maybe
	never a father

maybe

  never a -











	(breath)

there is a tune  playing
some day I will find  it
wandering an old highway
angry    and   unsettled

there is a   subtle structure
their     soft      firmament
and I knead my eyes before it
so imperfect       and unwell

and in grasping all these shadows
I have found clarity    aeons old
and   I  write      these   words

imperfect and unwell
just
      as
	  I
	      should

i see regions of sharp precision
underneath you
know well only the beat
of the train i'm on
to the cold, cold lake of lust
out in that deep 
blue 
sea

i know you're a serious lady
and you're wishing you could stay
the night
"you can sleep in peace
	when this day is done"

[dirty glass slides]
[count the days i'm gone]

and so we resolved to swim
	around
in circles	so slowly
all salt
and brines
	   make me sleepy
and no matter how hard we try

   we are not afraid to die

hold on		hold on
	hold on		(hold)

let the others do what they do

(for) you are the quiet
in which i dream
           sleep
           wander.

sometimes i think less about
the poetic accomplishment that
my year of poems will be
and more about how i will never
have to do work in the next
creative writing course i take

security in control
enlightenment in chaos
humanity in choice

that smelled so bad that
it reminded me of the
holocaust

they make a mind like
a jackhammer -
clanging furiously at
concrete feelings and
knowledge and then
shaking me straight to
my bones
fumbling for the key
in the private twilight
of my car — jesus
christ i have so many
of them — until

it roars and
i step hard
leaning
into the road
i have to get away faster
(have to)
no radio is playing
but the cabin
is like a symphony of
slasher films at full volume
so i run and i drive
until the road is no
more and i race into
the trees and i
grasp at their roots,
screaming and bleeding
as my nails come undone
those no-ones are watching
i can feel them out there
as i descend into madness
i hear the shapeless whispers
beyond the moonlight
those whispers that crawl up
the back of your eyes
like ants made of shadows
who bite at your thoughts
with poisons and nightmares
and double vision paralytics

i can feel you out there
you nobodies, nowhere
and you cant have me tonight
you shadows that stare
so ill hang from this tree
eyes closed tight until morning, 
when i'll turn with the wind --
fresh dew on on my skin
and with the sun at my back
and the cool breeze in my hair
i'll have finally escaped
the nobodies
	nowhere.

Sorry to everyone (all 3 of you out there) for being such a shitty poster. Hmm… or is it post-er? I would make a shitty poster either way. Not very flat.

Regardless. My life has been a busy busy place in my head. Posts may be slow for a teensy bit longer.

But I am going to be doing some reorganizing with my life and perhaps some mind altering chemicals, and we will see what happens. I want to make more time for this project.

I do care about it.

i misss my frends
and dramameen
causse wordds dont
always come out cleen
and im not always
serten whats a dreem
but i know for a fact
that theese words feel weerd,
and nuthing can be un-dun
causse the world is becuming
what i’ve feerd and
alll i caan do is run

smell of pine needles
announces her arrival
mountains hide in gray

the spiced air
the lightning
death’s grip
is tightening

3 18 tucking in 	3 18    condemning
3 24 kissing cheek	3 24	lying
3 25 tearful wave	3 25	abandoning
3 26 goodbye\\\\			
	
	death.