A Place she said she knew a place where she could make stars dance on fallen leaves i said i knew she might be fooling but when she took me there there they were ...dancing or did they dance just for us could no one else see
Sunday, October 27, 2013
Sunday, October 13, 2013
Monday, September 9, 2013
Ends and Beginnings no stopping till the end of the line, said the driver worry was asking for the worst at that point, so we dropped all that, slid down the window and noticed a sharp green smell from the rim of hills: anticipation of Spring spoken to the air and the bus was a dagger, slipped through the heart of a long-lost town, the grey plywood window-fronts now peeling by themselves, without a new dress of roller paint and finally, the bus stopped by the sea, and we marched down to the pebbles together, past the rotting cranes and flapping warehouse panels, and we dipped our hands in the sea, and we licked the salt water, clean with abandonment, and it spoke of beginnings for the first time in a while
Friday, September 6, 2013
I can't get the preview very large. Clicking the 'full page' button at lower right helps some. Why just self? No pressure to sell nnn copies to friends, family, etc... For the most part I'll just print a bunch at a time and sell some at local events. This worked well before. I'm not worrying about moving 5 or 20 or 100 or even 300 copies(hah). It's great to do the art now and package it up, and it might be great later to point to this and "Tahki" and "Nighthawks", my other Blurb titles. There are a few oldies that fit the Existential mold loosely, but most poems are new. Not sure about the next theme or style. Something a bit more detached at moments, I hope, but an explorer never knows for sure. This theme really needed to be collected and put out.
Tuesday, July 16, 2013
now i have to say from abandoned sac base to sock drawer from pallets to paladins from tears to that last lost touch goodnight now goodnight to all the nows that drove off down the interstate now is for the living but a wake for the waking the future a harbor for ghosts history a pastiche of tainted trivia in vinyl suits or mold and cracking leather a breaking wave fingers reaching from silent hopes curling drying imagined posterity or grace or just a dry cool green moment lately i hear waves break on some tomorrow do i dare too late i can''t be stopped something drifting closer the earshot before the eyeshot because the fog something coming something coming say the waves or the mirage may there be punctuation without puncture texture without rash in my falling may i catch a hand upon a toughened root be stopped in a level place find some perch where views hold still enough to open all around me because i can do almost anything now may i breath easy may we start wondering again
Sunday, June 30, 2013
------------------------------- I'm putting together a "Grey Beret" collection, Existential poems for this confused era. All styles. Not sure what the outlet will be. The beret is an Existential ref. Grey covers midlife and the slushy state of society and economics. Also, the "Grey Berets" were a division of the US Army dealing with battlefield weather conditions, so that's a fit too, for the officepark stuff. Overall fun project title. ------------------------------- "For of all sad words of tongue or pen, The saddest are these: "It might have been!"" ---John Greenleaf Whittier Dear Mister Whittier "It might have been"; This covers somewhat more Than anything that really was, And much of what it might have been Would never be, because... We tend to think the best Of what we've never had or seen. So watered, it will bud and bloom, Expand beyond the very rooms Where we imagine... That's right, what might have been, So blow, But only gently, On the coals Of what you haven't got, Because that fire in your soul, That strange resentment, Doesn't mean a lot ..except Maybe, that we're simply born To walk the rain, alone and plain, And dream of gold in pots. --J.Knowles 2013 (Grey Beret)
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
install blues press a bumper sticker on the sky twenty miles long describing all the upgrades, downloads, fixes, service packages, spurious offers and disingenuous warnings, pop-ups, toolbars, scripts, tutorial clips, patches, batches, prerequisites, reboots, re-launches, toggles, dongles, ISOs you may have RAR'd, existential moments like yes-go-ahead-and-run-this-i-dont-know-it-from-nerve-gas, mantras you speak to the hourglass, refactorings, that bug-out rap, printing notes before you close all apps, fuser burnings, paper jams, phonetics for top lid slam, the sound of that worm screw on paper tray 2, whether your system "has" V2002.05.X slash 4 for some unspecified thing you restored, whether you have had contact with unsafe cluster groups or stale Java beans recently, why the system cannot find "path specified" decently but will not tell me what it is, why Simon and Garfunkel are top score in the helpline hits, the call to prayer on hold for Bob in Bangalore. Or does the above make the reasons clear? "Hello darkness, my old friend..." ..come on in, there's plenty of us here.