Semi-Daily Scribbles

change is

it's ok if the songwriting suffers
the poetry stinks
snapshots of flowers
boring/blurry/bathed in shitty light
it's all right
the big red death moon
and a pox on your lips
brings big big change
and change is magic
disguised as one's biggest fear

Queasy Does It

For those following along, My Five Star Heart goes to the work that is fiercely authentic. I like it when My Own Private Icky Button is pushed by bloodlust and love's grotesqueries. Poetry that comes in great gushes and not dribbles. Make your piece so ugly it's pretty by sheer effort. Make me queasy and I'll put another nickel in the slot. Anything less than uncomfortable is forgotten before the end credits roll.

Vision

My problem? I've got too much vision. It fogs up my View-Master. When the little pictures spin so fast I can't tell where I'm at, or what it is I see, I consult the works of others. Stories that germinate inside someone else's melon provide a useful barometer for my foul weather days. Some rough tumult behind the ribcage. Am I the only one who gets seasick when I stand still? Read up, reach out, listen to what is hard to hear. What highs, what lows, what pressures, what limits, what sort of atmosphere does any human contend with? How did she, they, you find the break in the clouds? Maybe in the pages between front cover and back there's a roadmap to nowhere in particular. I'm told destinations are no great shakes. Journey on.

Shutter

Driven to distraction
Our window looks out over discarded plans
Clear vision clouded by trial
The scenery changes with each argument

Life revolves around a broken rule
The blue shutter for show
Doors that stay shut
A cold frame where secrets take root

If I read too much into it
The reason does not rhyme
Poetry for the pretender
I upbraid your reflection
Shattered relics serve us well

foliage

steal the statue
smash it in two
keep the spoils
hidden from view

blood oath sacrifice
prime locations
in the past
fill up fast
foliage grows on
forgotten plots

each step is the first
Determine
Yes No
relieve doubt
restore faith
fix the competition
crown the winner

break the idol
remove all sin
wear it well
under the skin

radius

half the length of inevitability
the circle tells me it cannot lie
sleep repeat awake deplete
rotate and designate all that is elusive
to construct meaning is to have
an embarrassing human condition
the radius runs its course while
we stand watch on the perimeter

weave

it is time to find
a new frontier
the old one has been
trampled down
beyond all recognition
a flood of warm regards
cannot save
what has been
swindled
depleted
a basket of dreams
one can weave
out of
opened promises
long since deprived of meaning
the note that hangs on the air
is as
thin as skin

Lunch

Lonnie loved the perks
Quick chicken
Lunch decision
Scorched back burner dreams

fill

come to find out
the great and unknowable
comprised the things
i took for granted
the breeze that bent the
bamboo and made it sigh
foghorns in the morning
freight trains at night
a front-row seat
under the apple tree
two legs chased
four legs
four became eight
i was surprised
by how swiftly
one can fill
a lifetime of days

debris

I jump ahead to get a handle on time
but dogs are the wiser for ignoring it
I would be mistress over my waking hours
if I could learn to
sniff the air to gauge one's mood
roll in grass and call it good
believe all I see in this very moment
track in debris from the outside world
and know it is an extension of me
more valuable than gold
more useful than a college degree
I would no longer live in the grip of
arbitrary increments