Saturday, August 22, 2009

We All Must Stand

We all must stand

Lets all stand!
Stand, celebrate the air!
Bask in the running breeze!
Raise our hands to the eternal, turquoise sky!
Praise the clouds!
Roll in the grass, down the hill!
Embrace in the field of wheat,
Share the grace given!

Lets invite everybody!
Dance in the rushing stream!
Bathe in the clear pool!
We shouldn't waste our lives!
Stand up!
Stand up, my loving siblings,
Stand with me underneath the sun!

Under the Gray Building Sky

Under the Gray Building Sky

There's a sea
We're drowning in
She grabs my arm
says “No beginning, no end”

We're stuck on the bass
The piano beats us down
In another year or so,
we won't be around.

“Stay in town.” she says
“Leave it now.” says I
She drops her hands
All she can do is sigh

I tell her goodnight
at the end of 12 AM
She grabs the door, tells me
“There's no fear at the end.”

The lights are all off
Phones are all dead
And the end is here
Her door clicks
it rings in my head.

Friday, August 21, 2009

Aspects

Aspects

All of our aspects have died.
I'm sorry to say this, I wish it weren't true.
The world is cracked, struggling, creaking coldly through space.
No sun to guide, no planets.
No asteroids. No comets.
Not even a tiny bit of dust.
No radiation, no white-hot core.
All of our aspects were left behind.
Back in the old system, that's where they rot.
That's where the volcanoes are.
The atmosphere disappeared into the darkness.
The water all misted away.
Our crust is ruptured, floating away.
I wish you were here earlier, it really was a nice planet.
There was life all over the place.
Now it's all dead, mummified.
Best move on.
We need to find new aspects.

Thursday, August 20, 2009

Another Sound

Another Sound

The sound comes over the radio
Young men dead, dying, in spots
An unholy O
A dusk falling over them
The sun refracted through the misty blood
Reflects from the oozing guts
The glistening feast attracts the gulls
Who shit on their meal as they gorge
“Damn you, damn you all!” screams the one left
Screams the DJ from the radio
Screams the last spearman left alive.

Turn it Round

Turn it round.


The carnival is all...crushed.

Under the feet of rain.

Lost in Fayetteville

The pay phone rings,

nobody around to listen.


Stuck under a cloud,

The cross is weeping,

The houses below watching.

Lost in this town,

A ways off of Sixth.

If you listen hard,

You can hear the cannonball

hurling down the tracks.


Deluge in the hidden streets,

all with a coat.

Turn around, turn around,

Don't go that way.

Don't go back into where

the hearts die,

Lost in the dim streets.


Lost in Fayetteville,

If you find another lost,

just run away.

Never look back,

never turn around.

You'll just find a puddle

staring back.

Cannonball

Cannonball

Monday night
She rolls over
Her hand hits my face. I've been
Woken up the strangest ways
for the last week
Sunday early morning, she farted
and rattled the sheets
Saturday 12 pm, she screamed for her mother
and rattled the walls
“Mama, mama, alone, I've been everywhere and I'm all alone!”
Friday morning, in the dark, she shoved me off the bed
and I rattled the floor
Thursday morning, she laughed at a dream
louder than a jet plane
Wednesday morning, she sat up in bed and said
“Sunlight. I can't see anything.”
the room was pitch black aside from the clock
which lit up her tears.
Tuesday night, she nudged me awake with her nose
and sighed
I could feel her heartbeat on my back
Last Monday, square at midnight,
she screamed that she could see
the devil eating my head
That no matter how much she scrubbed,
she couldn't get my blood out
She fell down, back to sleep.

Monday, July 27, 2009

In Retrospect to the title called "American Idol"

Wow, I'm really vitriolic. Sorry...