Archive for November 1, 2009

Freakazoid Skeleton…

Posted in poetry, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on November 1, 2009 by ravenstooth

JIM, JIM AND JIMI:

Hey now I’m standing here gathering all the leftovers from the past.

To guide myself and my next toward the unknown and infinite task.

And what you’ve said and done has inspired my thoughts to ask.

If I have the courage to move forward and will my strength last.

The path is made of knee pounding stones.

The terrific sun is the desire.

On the last stretch the fear beckons and moans.

And the morning shines the warm fire.

Hey now I’m on my highest hilltop horizon, viewing existence.

Wasting time, waiting for the reasons that will never be resolved .

And I remember that all you’ve said was only your own pestilence.

Only to give me the strength to know my courage will be unquestionably involved.

These times are strange and unruly.

I should be fighting for our time.

Led by the religious it seems truly,

As they preach their misguidance with such sublime.

 

ON LAKES AND REASON:

Cold and adjacent like pillars of grass.

The dew fresh mornings, a hot steam bath.

The oceans boil over on the sand and shore.

Birds laugh in the wind, we stand at the door.

Her perfume so reckoning. Burnt my nose and sneeze.

The echoes of strangers begging the wilderness please.

Our run is like the end, with immediate bower.

She’ll be there again with the store shop flower.

I’ve tried to be humble and not stare too long.

The river is empty and so is the song.

These dreams are fumbling inside the outsider.

Someone’s going home now. The order was given.

Trees fall loud in the wind swept hollow.

The damage grew strength like a walking infant.

Who is ready for the fall? The challenge commands high poise.

Concentration with the cliff climb belay.

We try to do our best in as little effort until we are hungry.

All this stuff is the sponge we squeeze.

Hoping for yet a little more.

She blinked twice and looked away.

Her heart filled up with the elation she craves.

To pretend and say nothing like quiet stone graves.

Maybe today, maybe today.

On lakes and reason the currents lap by.

The drift on the raft we’re perilous in surprise.

How silent the water and the sun and we breath.

We awake on the other side while asleep at the dream.

Going under the heart is the echo we hear.

The bottom all thick with the muck and our fear.

As we drowned in our boredom the sun shimmers wet.

Like two lovers in love who haven’t yet met.

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

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Freakazoid Skeleton…

Posted in poetry, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , on November 1, 2009 by ravenstooth

HOME:

I never thought I ever see the day.

Happy as a horse in hay.

Long ago when my mind ran fast.

I couldn’t wait to run on past.

I climbed on over the many hills.

Trying to get so many thrills.

Blindness kept holding me back.

Even when I’d pull in the slack.

I took a while to finally see.

The entire world in front of me.

She jolted me right around.

Made me put my feet on the ground.

Held my head up to the sky.

Showed me all the reasons for why.

Brought me strength when I was weak.

In the darkness, black as a raven’s beak.

She gave me inspiration, my thoughts were a fire.

Temptations that fed my unyielding desire.

I knew that now I was never alone.

I knew that finally after all this time…

I was home.

 

 

Telephone rings- answer- Yeah all right. Yep- all right.

Bye. Hang up.

Listen to words, the moist reverberation.

She shattered the silent dream with the cold sorrows in her visions.

Mesmerized by the journeys in her eyes.

The wet reflection in her tears.

Fresh flowers sent before they died.

A smile that creates the wonder of her revolt.

Dogs sleep in a ball in the corner.

The morning brought birds calling to the hot mold of controversy.

Let’s hide in the temple ruins.

Let’s belong to the myths that wrap the perimeter in its swollen mystery.

The warriors and their dead are the pages in time to recall on and worship.

The forbidden rituals, these monsters eclipse the awakenings that haunt the imaginations.

Fog.

 

Freakazoid Skeleton…

Posted in poetry, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , on November 1, 2009 by ravenstooth

TALES:

You shoved your one desire into my selfish mirror,

And kissed me into blindness, until I lost control.

With the motion of the sun, crouched into our cool soft bodies,

We meld into the hard ground like stones upon a feather, that fall just like a spinning spiral as horror calls out our names. We wake to see the next days sun gawking at our fun.

You turn to catch her eyes cry as she motions in your mirror, that she knows her time has faltered, as you melt into her daylight. Your beckoning becomes passe’ which folds into the river that has swept all the time away. You thirst for her again.

You brought me to your creature, that gives you love and power.

Your thoughts become just sillouettes that ripple through your mind.

Her memory is so distant and can only bring you torture. Yet you long for her inscription that led you down that river, that tosses you so violently and spits you out downstream, which keeps you crawling back for more.

 

SMOKE:

Saw the second coming yesterday.

Wasn’t as impressive as they hoped for.

The dude was swollen and looked scrappy

Like everything else, one always expects more.

Well that’s America and there’s no room for error.

And our guidance is the fifty some news channels.

With the only shade shined is the color of terror.

And that dude wouldn’t pass the scrutiny from the panels.

Their praise for the glory of his resurrection.

Would become a conspiracy once the dude came forth.

Only the chosen ones get to go in this worldly selection

And so it goes for such insecurity, no one here breeds such worth.

Our smoke will linger into the distance

Up through the hills and through our Mother

Our smoke will linger with wild resistance

Until our thoughts and actions smolder each other.