NaPoWriMo Napalm Week 4

23.

The soul on an interstate

many by-ways

Two boys freed

from the weight of ideals

contemplate money

governments, the meaning of family

the source of true love

and triumph

On a spring hillside

wanting only freedom of expression

One, raises ardor

The other, Fervor

The bodies and minds 100's of miles apart

react and act in perfect concert;

Con-sult.

The ardor is assaulted with bodies

The Fervor is assaulted with minds

They Learn:

It is better to think, feel, do, see, know and live

Their revelations

are as old as

the waves

shaking hands with the beach

24.

The wine goes down like piss shivers and

a kangaroo to blame

Spring has her first orgasm:

the trees, the tulips, the hyacinth

coming purple pink yellow and white.

(all this talk of global warming, I didn't

think another real spring would come)

The sun is still a trick, though;

the birds haven't returned.

(spring is still masturbating off

the end of a hang-over, waiting

for The One to hang roses from her vines

and berries and tomatoes)

She is completely unconvinced

without her fruit

24.

The letter from my father tells me

his new bees have arrived.

He is planning their hives, strategically,

around his home.

He eats, drinks, shits and shaves there.

I wonder about his cats that live in the barn,

and the bees that must quest and guess

at his window.

Take a picture from your memory

It contains each chamber of your heart

in equal measure

25.

It was the first Irish pub I had been in

with dart boards, but no darts.

They had been relegated to a glass case

somewhere, relics from a better time.

On the television, there is a football player speaking,

who is also a Rhodes Scholar.

I make notes for my next incarnation,

"Don't stunt your growth"

"Remember all this anatomy"

"prepare"

but then,

i recall that these are still lessons

i have to learn in THIS lifetime.

I decide to leave my next incarnation

some better instructions, then,

i turn off the television.

26.

I was seeking aimlessly

through the jars of my life.

I found them in a dream,

these great, magic urns,

one containing butter, one, milk

others filled with grains or brass or gold.

I was looking for the lids, in order to cover them up

but i could not find even one.

Sometimes, I would spill a little and

sometimes, I would return from elsewhere

to find them empty

This caused me a great deal of anxious sadness

just sitting there, looking into the empty containers

that once held my life

I woke up some time later and checked the clock

10 pm

I had not had a drink in several hours.

I needed a drink.

So,

I got up and

produced shirt, pants, keys and shoes.

In the car, I shifted to reverse and then to "D"

then

drove down to the local bar.

Dream dream Dream

My feet slide over the flooring.

The light addresses my eyes.

It's a quiet night, Tuesday, and

the bartender has the beer and shot set down

before i get there; smooth

mechanical.

I slide a ten across with my wrist

and get the shot in

and that dream stares out from the strange eye

at the bottom of it

and it slaps me where it hurts most

so I motion for another round

and toss the full beer back with a grunt

and tell myself

over and over

that there is a way

to forget these things.

27.

hold onto that soul

dont let you

take it from you

28.

Look at all the profitable vacancies.

Look at the vacant lots earning

money for people.

Look at that grey patch of dust in the corner of the room that used to be you.

(Maybe your eyelid or your palm)

Someone decided for you and then said "you can't decide"

(and you believed them)

but you live in a free country.

Can you think of morally reprehensible acts and then drive to work

or buy something from an expensive chain-store?

Is the mirror vicious, or is it just you?

Is the mirror angry that it has to look at you?

Take time to study instead of arranging.

Take time to feel instead of analyzing.

The dead dog in the street once belonged to someone,

Maybe it's your turn

to get out

and bury it.

NaPoWriMo Napalm Week 3

16.

Kind of like when

you smoke a cigarette

(because she's having one)

to kill the flavor

(same negates same)

but her mouth

still tastes like a gravestone

the inside of 200 stale hotels

and you stick your tongue into it
anyway

like you mean it

then she pulls away and says

I love you.

yeah, kind of like that.

17.

The Christ in your love

turned all the bulbs to

'Off'

while the cat grunted

and leapt onto the couch

to stare into the pouring rain

as if some new destiny were reflected

in the puddles

Then, the 8 year old acts incredulous

"you mean you're not a Christian?"

and I feel no reason to tell her anything except:

NO.

While the spring breeze pushed the petals against

new leaves with a whisper

and everything is stacked against a grey sky

waiting for the champagne POP to come

Necessarily unguided, mis fortunate we

still only sitting here

watching

18.

It buries the blade

Home

The double-entendre

the flip-over switch

meaning

Left you speechless

didn't it.

19.

The black cat

looks up at me narrowly and

voices a complaint.

Buddha raises his foot

uncertainly to his ear,

then back to the floor.

As the dark comes on

As the Israeli sleeps

at the wheel of his dreams

As the sun rises

somewhere

Sets

somewhere

As Burroughs, in Heaven,

eye-fucks a heavenly pool-boy

As the cross cracks and spills easter eggs

into the street

As the wind rushes through the house

sounding like waters

As she sleeps beside me

20.

The answer is:

not yet, Not Yet.

but

ever so slowly

one finger on the tin shutter of the lamp

the light within the boundary

and

this time

there will be no eye.

21.

As I lay in bed

it used my ear

as a doorway

and with my heartbeat

i can hear

the hum of it's viscera

working

tunneling

pervading my thoughts

sometimes it becomes crazed

in that animal way

that even dogs bite their masters

and it bounces around

where I cannot crush it

stinging the backs of my eyes

Now, i refuse to accept

the will of this interloper

any longer, as my own

22.

A spell

Rejected.

All these cities...

and

I stalked the streets for fights

never getting more than the usual talk

until

they heard

the summons

and came down

with their machines

smashing me flat, broke, conscious

in the middle of the street

without a sound

NaPoWriMo Napalm Week 2

9.

I've come back from a long journey

Sought to know myself in times of victory

Sought to know myself in times of doubt

I have found out

It is better to love

And

That I did not have to seek for that

so far and wide

for it was with me

all the while.

10.

The graves that were his eyes

shut out the light

coming from the better days

Even though we knew better,

we faded into promises,

false faces

and names that were not our own

Play the castanets, you fucking vultures.

Let's see how well you can dance without legs.

Give me a thread to run me through

or a threat to start me living again.

The graves that were his eyes went out

with a soft, stuttering fall.

Better leave the blaming to nobody;

we like it best

that

not this

way

11.

Ramble not, Time

lest we falter

and fall in

behind thee.

I wasted years.

(thats a sound admission)

I no longer feel anything about it at all.

I'm much more interested in watching the birds

c d

r o

u w

i n

s

e from newly budded tree-limbs

Much more interested, True, in just about anything.

12.

I want to be a dervish

so that I may drink wine

The flat golden compass

that points to the poems

Exiled from your light

I would suffer

Reunited with you

I would rejoice

But it is the same

Instant to instant

exiled and rejoined

I brush the sun and dive

brush and dive

Never melting the wax

in the wings that you crafted

13.

Wheat:

when you look out there

on a summer's day

you can see every war that was ever fought

and every love that was ever won.

14.

Green spark flying-

rivals-

snake specimens for comfort

slick jade skins sin

Eloquent waters

belligerent with thickness

tempts sent Magdalene

to reject the christ

and flee with John

shrieking

"I never knew him!"

Bend time with effort

quick silk smooth

soft shining symbol

Sigh like sad eyes

fires eagerly hiding

on the dying side

15.

Burn the nova streets

into a worn and empty dawn

Stamp out the stars for shoes

Look out,

Chicago

Memory plays a better tune than your trombones

and

"don't care if I do, but I'll get some all the same"

We could tack this up against the night sky

among all your excuses

for lights, you little pricks

but

we'd still wind up hardly breathing

hardly living

and

complaining

complaining

complaining

Napowrimo Napalm 2010 First Week

Here are new poesmesasdf

The first sacrifices to spring and the Napo gods.

1.

This night

is like a lot of other nights;

I stare at the ceiling and dream

or grit the teeth that are left

Spring, a blowtorch;

first, i was freezing

now, I lay here naked and sweating

waiting for:

an empty tomorrow

a cold bottle fix against my hot head

and a morning that I actually want to wake up and see

Spring,

you're great at promises;

lets hope that tonight's abortion

was simply that:

a lapse in judgement

a hurried and sloppy rebellion.

2.

The highway sings better than

the train

That's why I chose it

of all the methods

of all the ways

3.

The desire for renewal

is wet and

so we roam the streets

in search of dreams

the soles of our feet slapping the sidewalk:

our concrete dance-floor

We do not ask for directions

or speak to the passer-bys.

It is too much.

We just capture tiny images for our safe

and walk the tight rope cracks

on the surface of our world, back

Back to our upper story post

to fix ourselves with laughter

and wait for the next dawn.

4.

The sun rose like a golden coin

cut and scarred through the underbrush

And I photographed the stick she held up

And I chased the Kid with words

We have chili and eggs

and I stroll down to the sky blue bathroom

(to shit)

while some young couple

(flagrantly)

tries to fuck

in a back shower stall

Even so,

everything looks good today

and with the sun on my neck

and the camp torn down

I wait, blank, for a reason to leave.

5.

She chose survival over true life

and although, I can't fault her

I can learn from her example.

6.

Looking back on that place

those days

it's a wonder.

The broken lens of the present

scans the broken lens of the past.

We fall apart as lovely

or as ugly

as we think we do.

7.

There are 3 used condoms

in the green cup

on the nightstand

Spilling over the side

like dying

translucent flowers

I had spent all day on my knees

polishing the hard wood

and when the doorbell rang

for the first time in 20 days

I knew it was bad news

I am getting older.

The flick of an eyelid costs more than it used to.

I look out the window

into the blank, black night

and listen to the traffic roll by

like whispers.

8.

The blank surface of the road way

worn slick and unforgiving

by people looking for destinations

that they will never find

and and never exsisted in the first place

delusions, delusions

make a list of your confusions

dead dry sober

and lift it up to the sky

point it at the passing clouds

and wait for your answer