Sunday, November 23, 2008

33 Pages of Nothing (These songs for my watermelon)

this is from July 9, 2005. I remember that summer day. It was hot and I had this tiny little notepad, on which I handwrote all this and there were even kind of pictures in there, or I did some George Herbert type stuff with the words. I felt like I was intoxicated, as you can probably plainly tell. I was not. But I never write in these tiny notepads, but maybe I should try it again, and see what 26 yr old me comes up with, contrasted with this mess. Enjoy, if you can.


Pg. 1

Most people
My age have
Already learned to
Sleep on a capsule


Pg. 2

What wood
happen if
I cood rip tear coerce snatch pages

out of the
old Days?

TRIUMVIRATE


Pg. 3

If I didn't
wear clothes
I'd
stare holes into
the nebulous space
between yours.
emptying myyourself
invitingly open
obtrusive
stalemate!


Pg. 4

glasses cocked
sideways/halfassed
atop imperfection w/ a
glass eye, in a fishbowl,
so here's to forgetting
half-baked watcha
macallits that evend out
with cunning and
separate desires all
machinations of a sober
deathblow - last breath


Pg. 5 alternate title

Fortune
500 words
(song about the woods and meadows
Outside LA
County)


Pg. 6

Teeth clenched, tongues
complaisant
For the imagined
pleasure matches the
dreamed-of-aftertaste
The juices are known
quantities
From the past lives/
lies of your eyes.
I grow hungry
er in ev
ery glance
teeth eat
themselves
split on
seeds
who grow
to fight again next life.


Pg. 7

I'm so tired
I have to exhaust myself
go days without stopping
before certain worlds
hum to me without
reservation. I candle
light burn inside
a church so lone
atop a hill for all to
see - a sun.


Pg. 8

You iron clad
tooth decay magnet
attired so for evenings
With jesters of royal
Breeding. Leading
Seeding high ground
watermelon song
attached


Pg. 9

why don't girls
sit on my face for long
my favorite song
I sing to them hurts
their ears
and pleases them
a secret hymn I sing to her
I pour
suspend
she too much purrs
nothing left is
hers
his + hers


My fingers curse
curve
words
Circuit-like
pervert
Pure


Pg. 10

scratch that
I've maimed
kidnapped extorted
aborted fetuses
of notebooks, you sea urchin,
you lynchpin
of the kettle handle.


Pg. 11

these geniuses
trapped in this
bottle made madness
an art form.
Formalized constancy
bridled + tamed +
leashed + whipped
that most tremulous hummingbird


Pg. 12

CPU - afterglow
belly up eyed askance
cast net
drag lake
board stiff
calamitous


Pg. 13

If I have any art
my art is transient
I do not want
poetry permanent


Pg. 14

silver faded
locks coal

sindow aging
cathair cast off

lips of Hades
entrails entree

ensemble absentee
tea tee
T cells free


Pg. 15

a penchant for
disaster
essential to his
matter
libidinous his master
a kitten licked and
sadder
than richer kids with
dads more
poor with gifts for
patchwork


Pg. 16

bullet over
blue sky
blue eyes capsized
Ahab overboard
abandon
a brand on
a band in
a box
fading


Pg. 17

Maritime
salt intake
gestate sea star
bottom feed but
shine shimmer
glitterbug
twilight
unnight captured
Mars afloat
the distance


Pg. 18-19

Blank Perfect Little
Butterfly wings spread
glorious
how I love thee
So well so deadly
I deface your awkward
blasphemous heretical symmetry



/Time looks
like/ a man/
And/ a womban/
With 2 hands\
between
them




1 DAY
At a
Time


I'll BURN You


Pg. 20

Starlight vs. Moonlight

Which do I love better

the moon for its singularity

of purpose.

or the stars for their

unity. Long life after

death.


PART 0



Pg. 21

IF I DIE THIS NIGHT
I'll Flash Like A Light
In the darkness the
distance for a second
but if I fall asleep
right here I'll dis
appear so what
if I went home I'd
sleep here I flicker__
flutter gone now|here|


Pg. 22

imaginings
are pictorial
not just lyrical
the visual makes my dick
hard. the sound makes me
want more. to scratch
and here the sound again.



I want to echo my
my laughter in the
Sound of wind


Pg. 23

If I could love you
unselfishly I'd hurl you
into ecstasy
until your lungs
tired of crying
evaporated long
ashen masterful
walls into open ends
incessantly


Pg. 24

I only dare think of you
On two occasions. Now or
Never.

If you love me
you will not wilt
you will only dry up
inside where it matters
where stars become legs
from which the sky
Vaults.


Pg. 25

1 DAY
I WILL UNTRAP
MYSELF from the cage of
MYSELF.



Pg. 26

I promise
my
self



I said I want my
poems to be picturebooks

I want my sanity
picked clean
(groomed by buzzards)
of oases


Pg. 27

One finds one's
Adaptability
Causeways
Stretched to
Good effect

Though i am no longer
scrawler, have graduated
to writer who is also
in this instance
a scratcher.


Pg. 28

better yet
I want poems as
pop-up books.
sticking up and
out into your face
unexpected
intrusive eaters of
elephant sized
space.



Pg. 29

a somber
silence

a meditative
stasis

these are the banishings

the excommunications

Of effeminacy

I accept without shame
Baldwin laying next to me now.



Pg. 30

A maniacal
strain
in any
compulsive
writer
writer comes out better
than artist but not as
good as poet - a title not
yet earned.


Pg. 32

The Reverse SIDE
HAS BEEN
BROUGHT TO YOU
BY THE ANTI-WAR
MILITIA 433rd
-|DIVISION|-



Pg. 33

salute the overlooked
(details) in the shaping
of categories . The winning
of semantic technical
on-paper victories.
celebrated in
typewritten Helvetica
ice words of
peacefireflies.

2 comments:

mona said...

always enjoy reading thoughts. haven't given much thought to -exactly what kind of fruit a juicyfruit is- in a long time. remember that? and jars of pickles half ate? luminous, prodigal, sun.
it's like a time machine.
womanly, elegant, corpulent, fraudulent, and fascist.

Black Moses said...

thanks for reading. i like the way you writethink