Thursday, May 31, 2012

The Hour of Absolute Sadness


I see purple people all around me
Big, beautiful people, with purple eyes
purple smiles, purple faces,
purple skins
Purple kids with purple balloons
Purple lovers with purple love
Purple ladies with purple grocery bags
Purple men with purple beads of sweat
Purple hookers in purple petticoats
It's as if the world's turning into a sweet happy place.
The world's turning into a purple place. 

The sun sets.
I stare at flowers dangling down old verandahs of old mansions.
I stare at stoic cows, aloof, eyes closed -
chewing cud through cold centuries of twilight   
Horses drown in honey
Soldiers drown in bleak waste
Wolves drown in dream of pure love
Birds of life return, nestbound, purple wings
purple beaks

And I am here
Ugly, indifferent
and nothing close to purple. 

Show's over, kid
No point shouting "encore"
No point digging inside for gold
No point sweeping petals up the black avenue 
Turn around and go home.
Home is a dusty place with green fangs.
And there's no one waiting for you there. 

let's talk about my heart


So, let's talk about my heart then
it's cold big and red
it has warts
it throbs 
it makes me live by pumping blood
through my arteries
this blood carries oxygen and nourishes the cells inside
there's no wolf or bird or butterfly in there
it's just a bunch of sturdy tissues
doing what they are supposed to
and making the heart do what it's supposed to.
and it's my heart
and it's nobody's fucking business.


oh, and i almost forgot
it's when it gives this strange feeling
like it's giving now
that i sit before blank white pages on my laptop screen
and type out pointless stuff such as these.  

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

On Separation


it's nothing new to me
but each time
it feels like shit

it's as if the heavens have opened up
like they were supposed to
and dark words
from the angry gods are pouring out
like acid rain
on me
melting
my face,
my skin,
my flesh,
my guts. 


and now, after this long long trainride
jostling with sweaty people in rags
who look like poverty is supposed to
look like,
i'm here
and she
is
there.

you, intellectuals,
poets, students, jobbers, broads
wannabe politicians,
shitters - i'm talking to you now.
do you even fucking care?

well, back to the arms of Bacchus then.
the skies are rotting
the sharks are watching me
the tigers are dead
and there's no one else. 

i spit at the skies 
as i scratch my back
and smile.

i cower before the sharks

i weep for the tigers

and i am indifferent to your indifference now.

to hell with the rest, then!

Sunday, May 27, 2012

Hot Babes of Sundown


Hot babes of sundown – staring
through the windshields.
Across hallways,
this hour of love
Shades the night


Hot babes of sundown,
Olive pain
Mistletoe wings,
Touching my brain
when everything breaks.


Hot babes of sundown
Music in the sky
Immutable birds,
staring
at me –
still,
for centuries.

Hot babes of sundown
A little light
Cool shadows of fruit
In the firmament
of blue pearl
and red cherry.

Hot babes of sundown
Ghosts
Dancing inside –
Loving me,
Giving me food,
when no one else does.


Hot babes of sundown
Rewound sonata – jump-cut:
The flowers are warm
The tigers are dying
The oceans are sad.
Stop. Stop.

This pain
goes deep

This night
is an eternity






This disease
is enchanting.





Tuesday, May 22, 2012

On Poetry and Everything Else


Poetry that is worth writing
is an affirmation
that you’re riding the tides

Poetry that’s worth reading
is a sad song
lost in wilderness

Everything else
is bullshit.

Mad Man’s Dance and One More Bullet


Mad Man’s Dance


Look here child, the mad man will dance for you now
He’ll waltz to the sweetest tune of love
because he has seen hatred in your eyes

Look here, he will teach you how to face the sun
and smile.



.....



One More Bullet


Agony, i’ve lost it all
It’s your turn now
So don’t just stand and stare, you bastard
Shoot at me

before it’s too late.