I hate writing

writing

trying to

or when I do

time becomes a big, oppressive, and grossly hairy monster

and sits by me and tells bad jokes

love is the other controlling beast

sits there

talks – inspires

but when the ideas fall on the paper

they are no good

time starts

time starts to rustle my hair with a violent hand

he steals my writing utensils and glues them to the table

after insisting there’s nothing to write about except her

love falls asleep

and I’ve got to agree

she snores pretty loud

never lets me forget her presence

time rips at my paper

love covers every inch of it

its becoming hopeless and I know it

because time is trying to roll joints

and love is mad at me

I fall asleep

I’ve walked away and I’ve been fantasizing

I dream of writing wildly entertaining stories

A Thought on Disappointment

keys drift overhead

like released colored helium balloons

I was told to grab onto one

and float to the door it belongs

so right after I said my prayer

I placed my mommas dollar bill in the offering tray

I grabbed at some key

and went on my way to my sunshine filled destination

but I haven’t found it

things and thoughts pass by in the murky fog

as I breathe different winds of excitement

become high

(on the thought that I could control this life)

while my mind gets a bit dimmer

and is a little weaker

when it returns to ground state

I’m up and I coast along on a fading breeze

afraid of the drop (because I’ve not seen a door yet)

and loathing my nature

thinking I want to live above it

but then I can’t escape myself

and all these laughing floating keys

these hallucinations I inhale so steadily

that happily drench

and frolic and soak

my mind full of lively lust and disappointment

I should’ve kept my prayer and my dollar bill

OH! A REAL UPDATE! IN YOUR FAAAACE! i have no idea what this was about. i guess ill say its afictional poem because its not about someone i know personally, just about that kind of personality.

Sound 11/9/04

You were always so effective in the way you talked about problems

You could raise a riot in the snap of fingers, the wink of an eye

could set off a bomb, burn falsehoods to the ground, make so many sparks fly

life was like a dance to you, sure it made you sweat, made you nervous

like fast tempos

and foreign dances

but you always ended up charming it with the swiftness of your moves

with eager eyes

light on your toes

using any chances

You've always been so soft, sometimes quiet, barely shy, agile wit, never silent

Even in stillness, when its too cold and words will freeze

Everything you do is amplified, everything falls at ease

We could move on and say how much things have changed

how darkness is now direct

and always persists

but we'd rather bathe in the solace of you, wonder at your penetrative spirit

because if loudness is simply effect

silence will never exist

with you

and us