Posts for June 8, 2020

Morning
Its a brave new chapter to life where the powers of imagination are unignorable and nearly irrepressible. The mind is no longer a stagnant filter but a burning, radiating, lobe cleaving superfluid of all time and manifestations. It’s the age of the robot velociraptor, the map of the hidden colors, the bread of perception.
Afternoon
Theres an itchy feeling in the pines, and it’s the same thing in every dark and wooded corridor clad with snapshots of a time the world has always just forgotten. Here are the fairies and the muses and the witches and the angels and every gifted sparkling soul you have turned away. Here she comes with her little whimper and there your eyes follow her, bore into her back until the bleeding joyous reality has melted away into a compasionless nothing you have formed for yourself. Spring up little parks and woolen trees and praying little roads with innocent creeks, brooks really. Stand in the middle of them and beg the rest of the world for its attention. There are no sweet ways to put it. There are no melodies to describe the vain animal you have become. Dance in front of the mirror and be alone with your empty thoughts.
Evening
The fleetest of childhood pauses that still ravage your peace of mind. A never ending death, mistakes that have been branded into the skin of reality, flaming scars of the past still twisting and beating and manipulating. Are there no cool rivers of transcendence that’s can be crossed to put out the stinging thoughts? Does the unknown forge prime terrors of eternity? Is the child unforgivable? There is simply no comprehension of absolution. The hip fired remarks of an instant awkward moment, the wilting remembrance of split decisions of pleasure, piling consequences, the mind twitching maim of a solitary note, the little red scrawlings, raining down on the failed aspirations, the broken redemptions, like Gabriel flying down to meet the demons, the marks the searing slices of the sword is his righteous hand. Even in the pang of retreat, between gasping breaths of refuse hear the clang clang clanging of that mighty sword as it comes down the hall. No lock can keep it out, no corner can escape its reach. Oh what a beautiful and enviable angel, a supremely just power that fails to find any excuse for mercy now. What could you give the hero of the good as he dispenses the horrid? You reach into your pockets but of course you feel nothing.

I left some pineapple for you
and a few of your favorite
comic strips at that place
where you most certainly
are not but where I last
saw you. I return there now
and then, like someone haunts
the pier after an ocean liner
departs in hopes the frame
might help the mind hold
that final image. But unlike
someone on a dock, I cannot
imagine meeting you again
in that place, for nothing remains
there but the broken vessel
you abandoned beyond
all uncertainty.

My childhood was spent in glittering fields
full of fireflies and dreams. 
As I raced against the night I was sure I would catch them both-
but hard lessons were learned when I held on too tight
and crushed the little sparks of light. 

And tonight as the full moon comes ’round again, 
That little girl reappeared — the wrinkles from her dress now 
crease the corners of her eyes– 
And in those lines, there is wisdom from lessons learned 
while racing against the night– 
of how to catch fireflies & let them go
And how to cling to the dreams — giving both life. 

A day of kayaking

Filled with more

Floating and talking

Than paddling.

Stopped at bridges

To see friends

With pizza and drinks

Getting down

Crazy rapids

Ended in laughing fits

A baby deer

A few turtles

A raccoon

The sun going down,

Lost in the middle of nowhere

No way to get to us

Floating in the dark like

Straight out of a movie

Screaming for friends

A shining flashlight

A trek through cow fields

Hopping fences-

Electrical fences

Up a hill and to the truck

And finally our movie ended.

I call it “The Special Pain”
That gut wrenching feeling of betrayal.
A sadness that can’t even be called sadness anymore.
“The Special Pain”
That numb feeling of carelessness.
The hollowness of broken rib cages.
“The Special Pain”
The bleeding of busted lips and rope burn.
The screaming of scared kids and angry parents
“The Special Pain”
Knowing that he never loved you and you’ll always be another body on his list
Hearing the voices in your head and seeing shadows on the walls.
“The Special Pain”
It only comes to the special people.
The people that are so messed up that normal pain isn’t enough.
The people that are so twisted and full of self hate and abuse that normal hurt doesn’t hurt anymore.
“The Special Pain”
It’s for the broken, abused, unloved, and unsalvageable.
It’s for the victims, the innocent, the pure, and the perfect.
“The Special Pain”
It’s not designed for description
It’s not described for depiction.
It’s for killing.
It’s murderous.
Full of venom.
There is no escaping “The Special Pain”.
It stomps your throat, breaks your jaw, shatters your soul.
When you’re hanging onto the cliff with your fingertips, it’s the heavy boot crushing your knuckles forcing you to fall
And fall
And fall
And fall
Until the falling ends and everything stops.
That’s how you escape “The Special Pain”

Through the grass,
across the path,
and towards the street.
where are the crumbs?
I must tell the others.

Rocky Top cabin
fam scares me more than bears do
mountain fun times roar

he illuminates the windowpane
with a pulsating brightness
startled by the first blink
til I realize we’re well into summer

Messages

Is it ok
tomorrow
if I come to your place,
so you can explain
to me
better please?

I will put on a mask,
wash my hands
and everything.

You can spray me with that
disinfectant
if you want to.

I’d like to ask if my friend
could come with me–
the girl you usually see
around me?
She is from Serbia.
We’ve been going through
this situation together
since the beginning.
We just have each other.

I am scared to ask you.
Let me know, please!

constant continuum
one, few, many
all
slide amongst offerings,
new, now, next
darwinian struggle
supremacy’s brass ring,
basic cable balkanization

and there’s never really anything on,
anyway