extinction distinction

March 27, 2009

had a good life

free from the strife

bags on the curb

after garbage day

wearing black

on labour day

I listen to what you heard

but not to what you say

exhaust from the car

exhaust from the dryer

exhaust from the fire

exhaust from the liar

green is the colour of blew

red the colour of what I knew

feeling the feeling of wondering

if we’re through

thrown it all away

grown at all this way

a fence between a flower

and a weed of distinction

the day of today is

a play at extinction

a wonder of dysfunction

have we had enough

play the day away

say you’ll stay

enough is enough

I’m going astray

I still listen to what

the baseball bat had to say

crack in the skull

crack in the ice

crack in the glass

crack in the vice

grasp me tight

free me from fright

say you’ll stay

tell me I’m not a stray

i’m not astray

i’m gone either way.

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Smoke

March 27, 2009

where’s jesus

why can’t he ease us

where’s the devil

why doesn’t he please us

all i’ve got are cigarettes

and

a pack of plenty regrets

and

i live a life of vignettes

with 

spasmodic king-sized Tourette’s

where’s god gone

the great arranger

what about the word

the great deranger

all i’ve sought are cigarettes

and

to rid myself of regrets

but

i live a life of vignettes

with

bunches of one but no sets


forty-two fears

March 27, 2009

dreamers die without a vision of the last breath deep shallow face crooked and sallow expression of rhyme out of beat never on time for the market place to open and close a revolving door of perception no one agrees who should stay on their knees capping the suppression endless revolution of inception deception death where serfdom lies between the nether skies where music soars the preacher bores huff and puff quick grows the weed of greed need feed the radiation of the background rumbling around the sound wall between nowhere and their forty-two fears don’t thank a thing don’t think anything about the meaning between the words for the birds sing a song of freedom sounding like a car alarm foreboding harm to everything that doesn’t matter.  I’m ready.


Sensory Deception

March 27, 2009

no collection in communism

no community in church

no celebration of cynicism

no immunity from the lurch

into the future from the past

savory the salt of the earth

this moment will never last

so sweet the shock of mirth

the present cries a sigh aghast

sensing the futility of birth

of space between your fears

a garden filled with shit

and space between your tears

a desert with no flowers in it

ain’t nothing knew for years

when you should talk you spit


Hope Sleeps

March 26, 2009

I am pale with disease, but that’s nothing to my misease.  I can’t bring me here anymore.  I can’t stand the eggshells on the floor.  My prison was wrought from the freedom I sought.  Clipped wings.  A devil sings, ‘Rejoice, for you have no voice.’  No one listens to a conscious choice.  I stomp where I stand.  I slap away your tender hand.  What happened to the grace I saw in your face?  I am alone, chilled to the bone, kneeling before a vacant throne.  I saw your feet fleeing the flight of the fleet.  I saw your heels break the fingers of the hand that heals.  Freedom for one is not liberty at all.  A single slave can cause a mighty fall.


Blight Rest

March 25, 2009

A screw falls from my arm rest, puts my patience to the test.  I’m no better than any of the rest, to this I can attest.  I’m sorry because I apologize I never realize when I eulogize.  I scream, my voice is muffled by the skies over a grave where my happiness lies.  A wind from the west destroys the flag freedom flies.  A breeze from from the east stifles the words of the wise.  No one tries.  Words kill the rest of the wicked.  No one tires, especially the liars.