Archive for November, 2009

banana eros

November 30, 2009

Peel me softly, let my skin hang off, smell me first to get a sense of my fragrant fruit, take a lick, now a little bite, oh, you like it?  Now eat me whole!  Your body will be resplendant with beta-carrotine.

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parting the lady’s hem

November 30, 2009

What I hope is that the way you undo your skirt will leave me with something to work with.  What I fear is that the buttons will fly off and we will both have to walk home naked.  what inspires me is the thought that I might smash your boyfriend in the mouth and take you away to my cave.  My cave!  The cave that I rent for three hundred dollars a month.  The place where my tv and bed are.  Bed, a bed so warm, so inviting, that you may have to give it up to me just for the sheer joy of the sleep after.  I just hope that the bugs are gone.  I just hope that you are not hiding a sausage under your dress.  I just hope that the hem of your pants doesn’t split while I pleasure you on the bus.  I just hope we get to go out for ice cream afterward.

tired elf mocks the tree

November 30, 2009

if you cut the root the fruit will bite you.

the demons in your heart

November 30, 2009

the demons in your heart offer you love.  This is a basic tennet.  Nothing is revealed.  No one is inconvenienced.  this is the top and that is the bottom.  There are distinctions.  There are broken thoughts on a wreckless beach.  Infidelity promised gains in external merrit.  The answer however was the blossoming of a flower that only shows itself at night.  During the day we sit shrivelled in our creamy sauce.  Little by little mutation sets in, why?  How? Who?  Whither?  Whence?  Turtles and axioms break apart the upper crust, the lower being already cut off to apease the ladies who will have their tuna sandwiches at the funeral.  This is the breaking point, it is not so.  There is nothing utterly resplendant in its total lack of being.  There is something so beyond, so outside, that it crusades endlessly to open avenues in the mind that lead to live ends.  Life is the science. Living is the art.

malice of the sun/joy of the sun

November 30, 2009

the sun oppresses you.  It beats down on hot days and makes you perspire.  When it hides behind the clouds it is so cold.   It addicts you to its vitamin giving rays and then makes you go cold turkey all winter.  The sun oppresses you.

 

the sun lets you live, it gives you the greatest gift.  The sun nurtures you.  It keeps you warm, it even tans you when it shines off the snow in winter time.  The sun is certainly your friend.  the sun lets you live.

movement from the center of the world

November 29, 2009

possible distinctions arise that make us forget what we were doing briefly and chiefly advocate a path of action which ultimately has some sort of external merit.  Factually our course is determined mainly by the feeling of vibration inside and outside but with slight variations in tempo that distract us from our goal.  Inversely proportionate to our expecations we find basic non fragmented reality spheres that encapsulate the vision of a greater being and awake a sense of freedom free from discourse or life experiences.  Fortunately for most we are able to overcome obstacles that hide us inside of a reality of unrealized potentials.  To take advantage of such potentials is to foster an existence created not by the events around us but instead by our intent and sensitivity to allow change and foster calmness within while giving birth to things without.

blank slate

November 28, 2009

dear slate, I noticed the other day that you have nothing written on you. I would like to write a sonnet, but I don’t know how.  I would write a novel but there is not enough space.  If I were a slate would I like to be written on?  I’m not sure.

not in the mood

November 25, 2009

I’m not in the mood for writing poetry.  I’m just not interested today.  I think that if you went to a quiet place and wrote a poem for yourself you would feel a much greater sense of achievement.  So go, hurry, the only time to do it is now!!  If you don’t you might regret it.  Write some verse, write a short story, make it your own, quit reading this.

exotic boredom

November 24, 2009

Adventure, adventure, adventure, advent. Erase all thoughts of eels as you swim through the shuttle and exit into an underwater world of wonders you have never before seen but are utterly uninteresting and banal. If we could have new experiences every day we would wish for vanilla. If we were constrained by the daily grind we would ask for sorbet. In any case currently we long for a dramatic landscape with a few dozen trees, some unusual looking elk, a bison or three and a scoop of double chocolate chip. If only we could currently be where we are without wanting to be somewhere else.

I saw her in the shower

November 24, 2009

naked is how she appeared to me, on the mount of peace.  an apparition partitioned by glowing frowns functioning as the xyphoid process does when the hour has turned late and you can’t find your bath robe. The true tragedy of existence is that it takes so much time to get your face on in the morning and by the time you have gotten to work nobody cares anymore.  The real joy of creation is the fountain of creativity that captivates us and rends our boredom from its foundation.  Perchance allow me to expedite your suffering so that you can spend thousands of hours merely being and feeling.  This is the way that we survive until the end of time, which is never.