May 2013
2 posts
1 tag
shelter over the exposed
add the fixer
behind the bath towel,
and socks and in fact the rest
of the colorful ones
their mint and sorrow,
i think your face is beautiful, the way it is
ardent leaps. in the thickest of woods,
to a young girl one morning she combs
scared knickknacks, idols
there was a vase
eaten with a dab of honey for
aren’t allowed to fuck
nothing is here i...
2 tags
the time dropping forgets
as seeing her drive
away i wonder with the dust,
who decided on these names
for the goats, that are really popular
around here these days.
are they themselves taking the direct object
or a weirder act is hiding here,
perhaps like painted feet. they
in a humble color of green,
but she isn’t one of those goats.
no painted feet either.
but popularity aside it...
April 2013
19 posts
20th day
i’ve burned down the factory
farm. this isn’t in smelly
anger lights puncture night even
when christendom refuses exist this
horse apple line, an old
snearing, which arose back when dogs
could talk, then all horses
appear like clouds are hot
springs, by big sunflower river.
i have made this happiness
steeped in spanish scrolls where
the dead dig up bodies
taking your shoes off please
2 tags
19th day: in ten minutes mister diary
no hazard with
the gray outline
is monday.
a nappy place,
four left of a tome
few get meaning from
graphed spirals.
right there. that
is morning talk,
symbols but
without any paper
bones behind.
2 tags
18th day
the plastic peach tree
says so little in english
pencil marks toward ceiling
how to own person history
ready clouds migrate over the periphery
these platelets are metaphoric
what flavor you
want growing?
17th day: slanguage poetry and politics in the...
the first starts to finish grammar
the first what? middle leisure class,
we can ragged right.
not necessarily twitchy,
the optional to unbury our hearts
when this is massachusetts,
route 128 by the power lines.
that second, freudian
and the semen absolutely below
the bust line. how is your traffic tonight?
and his ambition is robbing
the ‘wet list’ from some powerful perp....
16th day
box flap discarded near river edge
everything torpid against a shrub
torn from large boulder ground
the trash cannot wait to be picked up
1 tag
15th day: a list
one
not ovid’s new army
the driver confused of words
combined with send
the safety job personal taste
but critical pearls
two
about my mediocrity
of character
these lenses give us
a ward of going down
right price confides in proud
three
telephones
to be a man
up with the yet forth
come and get it with your grapes
paid for breaking fast
four
half sad spots and listen...
2 tags
14th day
the lights up. i didn’t even get to shake
the man’s hand before, what do you
get from this as bitter owls plunk about
those stars are glimpsed as
in somewhere night called chamomile.
the characters are introduced as petunias
torn pudding would be is, cheap to call them,
enter the calm. oh the drama. then two iphones
walk into a bar; and they chat about the old
pharaohs and...
2 tags
13th day
hat tear was a rhyme-jerker
my cotton is accounted
absolute inside a nine mile ring
cat scamps through trash
on living room floor
temporary house it earned
exercise and soap is rubbed
into second shift
emoting doesn’t invest verbs
the naked neighbor i can’t
music the hearing off
freestyling while showering
how sentimental
1 tag
12th day
caught, chewing garage. you forget truth everything
and a paddle of the forgotten music.
without being curious, without.
a special second apology, this one is clear
(enacted.) chewing silicate minerals
on bullet train, to argon for beautiful biting revenge:
belief that bears sentimental filminess
to a period canoe.
some know that blank minerals,
are all facts. every knowledge in...
3 tags
11th day: sex and eastern philosophy in america
as with corners, most of us
like sex
those spelling blocks
letters on them,
most rain, beyond our world talk
ha, those being figurative
and anti-realist
it is your turn, the safety word
is violence
1 tag
10th day
take the mouth agape and turn it in and around in your mind. exotic, south american, somewhere. our edges remain because we have decide on shape. the star this star does not penetrate, we you universe.
with the time we have left, anyone has left, let us get sappy. the covering for our bread. i could say i like your hips. i could say. what drives a car?
but the tone perfectly has something,...
1 tag
9th day: e-poetry, on perspective, & noir
cat turning head sideways
to look at the bubble downward floating.
will history itself stop sculpting?
grainy is sense. these lenses give us,
when was the last, we stood
by campfire light? hold on this isn’t
an expressionistic detective flick?
1 tag
8th day
did those shoes find me? did i find them, they were tan, then walking cross the crosswalk my mind is a zebra. made to make sense because flesh figures it out. stops beside the longer wall, but that only, anxiety. already over the crosswalk and gulped coffee. how the pigs feed. mysteries to no one. this is the right price. the weakness after seven days, for anyone. the voices don’t come from...
1 tag
7th day
no arrival yet
or a late appearance,
up with froth
toward a corporate
bookstore
the smell in
a cooked chain,
expect
to pay for coffee
change in the dark-
ness is earned,
the obsession matted
down on having
the book you want
or the book i want,
stroll in
like you own the place
and take what you
need don’t pay for it,
this is breakfast
half finished,
we are delighted...
1 tag
6th day
the eleventh hour was when
those ads were cast out of fashion,
into a different style.
the appearence of everyday things
in a feelgood vibe, except for watches
& calendars. a phrase like running time
is hardly considered;
this is a cold season for a freeway
with a route number i forget.
missing experience but inhale, inhalation
will make you feel better
more sexy even
as a dime...
5th day
phone rings
we the streams, by
everyone’s ability here.
you’ve a lengthy trip home,
thanks tapeworm.
4th day
a series of unlikely explanations
will only fit a few people’s
gear boxes. public relations technique
from a clipper ship —
above us in sky is fog.
the break in the room
could be a conflict of interest,
but what century
do we live in? there’s
a cold window
through the other room,
this shows me the door
have goosebumps
actually is a jaundiced outlook,
a sunny fog with...
4 tags
3rd day
the sea shanty admits running
through veins is
what hustles there
is it green that color for ireland
i am a pause
besides this being a pirate
has helped my hearts boat
stay clearer and pump
anything running a sea shanty
admits that patience exists somewhere
this help pours
gasoline into every
body
it certain isn’t very urban
when looking beyond tourist self
the most obvious...
1 tag
day #2
where are we that lives
then probably unwashed for bright poem
today sun surprise by weather
new and this day two
the normal words stand out
our spines the vital song
while comparing fountains to youth
this is what we own
this second time is midstream
to floor the objections fall
like cat waits in fishbowl
the normal words stand out
like when dogs could talk
my plan now wash hair...
March 2013
1 post
1 tag
we call ourselves by how we observe home.
the motions through the elected moments in day, perhaps collateral mismatch but not getting hard, and the bread isn’t rising. our shifting minds grow, as smaller the numbers allow. a passion understood by so few.
a picture drawn on pad of yellow paper, there is no cover and the pages have blue lines. this wonders who describes me.
what...
February 2013
5 posts
Writing Violence: From "An Army of Lovers" by... →
writingviolence:
“They had fought a lot about this, how to get themselves out of what they had taken to calling the impasse, which was their inability to figure out why they continued to write poetry in a time when poetry seemed not to matter, and when their attempts to collaborate with one or maybe two or maybe…
3 tags
the simple pleasure
is no pressure
a sentence makes itself
full with a ring encircles
lunar slice
after last sundown
“I have been traversing the sunless territory of non-identity. A strange land. I...”
– Viginia Woolf, The Tides (via janakastucky)
2 tags
is it summer yet?
and i’m still grateful
these loves are home
goosebumps from large rooms
of the past, happenings are
randomness
transit followed by and as action word. cat observation fascination. two other feline lines at farm new past old school. that road name changes. let it happen. i don’t steam, in tired light. oh okay transit as in a planet. back to earth, likenesses, who answer. family populated street probably. the common denial, clickable link to book below. more words to soak in. thinking is never...
January 2013
4 posts
“It’s not humility I’m after nor the pit of my gums”
– Michael Gizzi
1 tag
i missed that metaphor this morning
a grape surprised with a peach
pit at it’s center fleshed out
by this seed remember
but now eyes wander off and up
a cobweb inches below the drop ceiling
it’s smart to lead them
but not display your education
or mine what makes the connector
strange without being there
while i lay back a small draft blows
this web around like a dusty...
free prose
and worth every price. weight of the price tag. what i mean it’s worth every penny, but want to trade. a funny jokes about “the business” sent along with snapshots. the screen from a calendar week. calendar
the method to not starve in this department store of modernity is to eat the sundays. or snack on the dates. now it’s hard to measure my waist with all these syllabic...
2 tags
none give gifts on other planets yet
before returning alive our plans fan out three times. here names are made as we look peacefully down at the earth. there is no thumb to cover. people the streets crowd. our lives, a sentence told in reverse. what desired is mostly to believe. the ambience forms a guilt trip. food stamps and a skin color. am i going to cook or vote? that’s the real question isn’t it. neighbors outside...
December 2012
5 posts
“tears, that could be the tone, if they weren’t so easy, the true tone and tenor at last.” — samuel beckett
there's a draft maybe the first one
tomorrow does have proof yet, it is still today. now perpetually, un-arriving. that said simple me, looking deep, today at what is defined.
here the window does need to be left open, here is winter. the cat traveling by his own will —
but the picture i stare at, connect conifers habitually with human lungs, (lain overtop in photograph) those aren’t, the facts, this overly emotional love...
uutpoetry:
forlorn color shades/ iron of hat
2 tags
see
apes and bears wise animals
each fruit tree resigns itself
the others follow dreaming
the days go by i endure
let the hour pass the day the same
while underneath
the stars appear like the image of bees
that sets these deceptive rays in my hands
having unhooked a star
the blind man rocks a pretty child
the deities of living dew
the gypsy new in advance
made us think hand in hand...
November 2012
4 posts
the smell of garlic
cooking for the season
ready before time arrives
1 tag
conceptually should the kids be allowed to see...
a green pain hesitates on top of the festivities. how will discretion lurk around advice? advice condones the emerging fan around any cue. discretion moves a longest sympathy against the thoroughfare, animal. discretion fields advice above the pencil. our calculation clogs the middle postage. each representative succeeds averse a behavior. how will a booked elevator fear after input. opposite...
it’s almost, what you don’t say, “socially,” hold on i need to put in more hashtags
1 tag
parental discretion is advised
making ourselves last in
line without quotes
this brown paper bag is a trampled flower
stealing is popular
after tranquil speed bumps
along the weight and books
heavier hair falls out
sick like pleasure
being bought flowers
feels cheap
getting the leather touch back sexual
smart cheaters not to be
a good nation of piles situations
our hats are just sight
snatched the closed...
October 2012
4 posts
the road tips toward east like a puddle left for a river. the lame drawstring, our weather staggering, the bite, why liquids are proud. this answer is an empty stairway towards the opposite north.
1 tag
earlier than thought, but the plan was straight. my type for blurted obviousness. compares what will be in the picture frame but i already arrived in the square behind the gallery. the top of it’s skin is grayly carpeted & what eyes adapt to is called american primitive, the taste now, milk printmaking
maps with large helvetica words over them, in the persona of loud statements. there...
6 tags
we don’t get coffee for building blocks
nothing by great balance
as anyone hitchhikes from your eyes
its thick cover unmelting snow
and is painted deep blue
indent your most beautiful hair
indent that nothing knows names of car plates
indent it has unusual shape is sight
indent twice but bright opening in exclamations
indent twice please give me the impressive mountains...
1 tag
this is what i can’t
stand, feeding the thank you.
spilled problems
of fountains. we speak,
again. if we
hear in the direction
of signs, we are oil. the
brilliance of how sing,
these reflections of
chair orchestras. that
courses along, is crop circles (
aside cult oddity.)
the stern grandeur of insects.
let’s unlap life, the
unimpeded face tears
for, this can’t,...
August 2012
1 post
cutting off on materialism, yearning and earning. about a week. the gravity being responsible. my life is huge. translated english to french, then back english, that’s composing entertainment a young poem. in notes for survival (job) i have a dialogue tuesday. everyone provides their perfect hunt. life happens. tomorrow an engaging party. quality.
(music drops)
to time it waters monday, or...
March 2012
2 posts
public poems
the ignorant riots over
a breathed contract. near
a bath talks
a salt bookshop.
*
hesitate uncertain
those fault lines
longer
than the length
of my arm
but they’re folded
*
what after tells it
limping wire
*
strange fixture
what a coincidence?
*
blue walls
a stuffed animal
three actors
*
gray could sense dislocation
but a pickup could blush
then flesh would...
“I thought that if I where broken enough I would see the light”
– Robert Creeley
December 2011
1 post
1 tag
the green water drains from tub
a yellow fiberglass. mantel echos reboot,
with challenges from saint john’s
wart, and brand new computers. inside outplacement,
improvistations for elevators
named planetary science.
the sand left behind isn’t seasonal decadence
but close-at-hand links never
chained or funded by the ropes. while this commu-
nity is at least thirty miles off.
to...
November 2011
1 post
yrouttasight:
Soulsavers- All the Way Down
I...
July 2011
2 posts
this isn’t the correct place. massed with a powder keg wall, yes, they still love light the fight, a decision to let the other one into the place they call home, trouble with gossip shells. men and women making another america public before a whole wealth of obstacles fixes to rip those old jeans. maybe this is an extension wire plugging the radio how the gaps become safer.
