They Will Not Have Me

interplanetary medium

2011-11-27T07:51:00.000-07:00

another earth

2011-11-25T11:28:00.000-07:00

soapy eyes

2011-11-24T09:24:00.000-07:00

fall, feathers, teeth

2011-11-22T18:26:00.000-07:00

earthwreck

2011-10-29T17:45:00.000-06:00

the night clouds

2011-10-10T17:59:00.000-06:00

cloudy sky

2011-09-28T06:44:00.000-06:00

summer creep

2011-09-22T06:11:00.001-06:00

summer has her see-through number
on again
Oh!

tassels, on high limbs
teased, by autumns breath
some to the end
of Septembers song
some fall quick, together
on the crimson carpet
of this living room

and I watch
paparazzi peeping
stealing, all I can press
between the pages
of my book

signals

2011-09-20T08:52:00.001-06:00

2011-09-18T16:06:00.003-06:00

I can see
Autumn's eyes

and the swords of summer
falling

wet metal bowl

2011-09-13T20:20:00.000-06:00

the insect inside

2011-09-11T20:33:00.000-06:00

The hornet raged clear, clear through
the depression glass
apothecary of
bottle-necked wings, bent,
throbbing, with all kind of aches from stings kept
inside, until some poor soul
makes the grave mistake of resting it
on its side

glass eye

2011-09-10T10:04:00.000-06:00

(gravel) roadside distractions

2011-08-26T21:09:00.000-06:00

(gravel) roadside distractions
points of interest not
pointed out
shout-
ed
RED!
and would
I bother (this time)
I should
they said stop
and I did
sunk into their weather
their number one wood
machine
airing
baring
bones
sharing tones
and I gathered them
into my cone-
head
and bled
from every eye
it was a dusty goodbye

between the ties

2011-08-06T11:33:00.000-06:00

between the ties, I flourish
so big, so big
that it’s getting hard to see the tracks that I’ve laid
to nowhere

Mazak Man

2011-07-29T15:05:00.000-06:00

Curl around me, let’s
rust in peace together
I can’t absorb the shock of this place
anymore, and
pretend that things are pretty
when they are not
I

don’t have a lot to offer
I’m
short of oil, but full of squeak
and colour, yes here under
this peeling, steely skin
that you see
right now

Traveler unfurl
or don’t
We can just lay on top of those
other worlds, and
I’ll take in the story
of your breath
The only one
that I’ve ever wanted
to know

pictopost

2011-06-25T11:56:00.001-06:00

in dew time

2011-06-22T11:56:00.002-06:00

concrete clouds

2011-06-17T08:00:00.000-06:00

been

2011-05-29T09:45:00.000-06:00

Been boating, watching cars, and a shoot of stars
growing

Been waiting for birds, playing with words, and pictures,
been mowing

Been stacking wood, burning brush, and pulling mush
from the eaves

Been in my summer place, with my summer face, dirty feet,
and dewy leaves

experimenting with perspective

2011-05-14T09:51:00.001-06:00

my mental state, in pictures

2011-04-30T06:49:00.001-06:00

A pattern for comfortable slippers

2011-04-22T09:04:00.002-06:00

Fat man talking
but to whom?

Giant beats vine, that my feet can't feel through these
comfortable slippers
I’m wasting here, safe in fear
taste fading for combinations, other than those on some
super-sized, value menu

And if that’s not bad enough, you know that barrel
the one that I've been scraping my teeth on?
Yeah well, I’m bent over that fucker now too!

Tilting
f…f…f…farting

Seems the pharmaceutical factory farm is now fully-automated
It doesn’t need my fat-ass to push buttons anymore
And man, I’m getting bigger by the burger
smoking my own butt to ash, with my spoon
fork and knife in a chocolate Frosty
Billions serve(d) don’t you know?!

Channel switches
Today on As The Stomach Churns…
The burger kings, and their minions of bird brains continue to
dip their battered beaks
in the buttered buckets
of the sleeping ones
Madge tries, but no amount of Palmolive can cut through
that kind of grease

Channel, channel, channel, switches through
schlock, schlock, schlock
and off!
I know I let them
I let them in the front door
now they’re coming through the back
and they’re having a good go
at my roots

So please, tell me all that you’ve been keeping
Cause I’ll tell you what, this ignorance isn’t bliss
it’s a fucking blister, and I’m one fat fluid sack
full here, ready to burst on the next prick that tries to sell me his
Needful Things

It was dusk

2011-04-20T18:43:00.004-06:00

It was dusk, he was sipping Sake, that she wanted to
suck from his lips
and he knew it

Yeah, he knew it when he looked at her the way that he did
It was all she could do to keep herself from hurdling the table
but it wasn’t the time or place
for that kind of show

When they left the restaurant, it was wet, but they walked
and he pulled her in
and she tasted that Sake
under the moon
with some rain

piggy

2011-04-17T11:13:00.003-06:00

They call her Piggy, she’s always painted up
always in pink
like Double-Bubble bubble gum
Yeah she can go, I have choked on her (per)fume
but some like more slap, tongue, and tickle in her
“baby got back“, back, back room

Whatever blows your hair back, I guess
and Piggy, well, she’s blown a few
Living in a pasture, but still goes hard
looking for lead
in all the wrong places

winging words

2011-04-16T10:36:00.003-06:00

There are words
but I won’t say them
Gonna let the linguistic strings rest
Gonna let them lay for days
and just listen
and just gaze upon the image of you, that is cast
in my mind

But still, there are words, inviting words
so I will try writing them as best I can (insert knee knocks here)
and with a lick of a quivering quill
Here goes everything...

All knotted, you are a figure of eight in here (pointing to head)
sure tied tight
Your magnitude, what you exude
come closer, let your dust loft in my places

This kaleidoscope of butterflies in me
your features make it flutter, feeding
a steady, heady feeling that I like, like
If my heart had wings, it would fly
to you

blooms

2011-04-09T12:48:00.003-06:00

Final scenes of winter

2011-04-07T07:07:00.001-06:00

the watchers

2011-03-15T08:13:00.001-06:00

reach for morning

2011-03-14T08:54:00.002-06:00

Thoughts from the blurry tree 2

2011-03-13T09:30:00.008-06:00

Shake the tree

where the heart rests
with the bones

and let love fly
free

the ocean in the sky

2011-03-12T12:35:00.003-07:00

timber talk?

2011-03-08T18:50:00.001-07:00

It’s cold at your base, but I see your knotty-eyes
and center split
where the seasons run
through you

I’m not sure about your purpose, but hell
I’m not sure about mine either
you look alright in a frame though
all upright
and sturdy

You’ve weathered well, for wood
as for me, time continues to tell
and so far
it’s been whispering

Talk to the clouds, from the 2011 sessions

2011-02-12T16:37:00.000-07:00

You must not blame me if I do talk to the clouds.
~ Henry David Thoreau

3 wood

2011-02-08T07:52:00.001-07:00

rubbed raw

2011-02-05T10:03:00.002-07:00

scenes of winter 2

2011-02-04T08:57:00.000-07:00

yeah, I ♥ you too Jack Frost.

litter bugs me

2011-02-02T07:20:00.004-07:00

they were here
they left this
and I picked it up begrudgingly
from the big picture

and with words, colourful words
that whirled in the wind
with paper dancers

wish I had rubber gloves

when I touched that funky junk strewn with plastic
and straws that sucked up some sugary shit
that they sure chomped at the bit
to get rid of

wind pissers
probably got blisters on their feet to match their minds
use it or lose it sunshine
cock and load
the cochlea

could have been worse
like the used rubber, and broken glass
remnants of 4-bying, redneck ass
or the calf next door found nearly in half
we didn’t hear the gunshot

yeah they were here
and I was there
in that head space
in the body of garbage
the freaky Frankenstein that is growing
and I can’t see Russia
but I can sure see him
from my backyard

thoughts from the blurry tree

2011-01-29T06:17:00.003-07:00

Bordering on normal but
what the fuck is that? I mean
have you seen this place lately?
I don’t know who I am really and
that bugs the shit out of me and
it intrigues me too
I’m almost sexy
to myself
dust the shelf
where I was
I’m coming round
to better health

sky car

2011-01-28T13:26:00.000-07:00

so
so far
in my sky car
and no matter how high I go
the further you are
you’re out there
you’re out there
but

but still I stare
at what you bare
it knots my center
and ties a bow
ties a bow
go

flow
pull me there
hold me there
I suck the air and
I eat your glow
I eat your glow
so

so far
in my sky car
and no matter where I go
right there you are
though you’re out there
you’re out there
so?

half-shut shutter shot(s)

2011-01-27T12:17:00.001-07:00

A man's errors are his portals of discovery.
~ James Joyce

flowers in January

2011-01-26T19:08:00.004-07:00

sit with me, where the cool collects
while the tongue-drifts lick
everything

live with me, in the dead
of winter
and let me bring you
flowers in January

Talk to the clouds, from the 2010 sessions

2011-01-21T09:08:00.002-07:00

You must not blame me if I do talk to the clouds.
~ Henry David Thoreau

2011-01-17T09:12:00.004-07:00

"The man who moves a mountain begins by carrying away small stones."
— Confucius

scenes of winter

2011-01-12T08:34:00.001-07:00

I see, I say

2011-01-11T11:26:00.002-07:00

They see
they say
but where’s the fat lady?
will she sing today?

about the shadows that loom
on lungs and heart
I don’t want to hear
don’t want any part

of her tune
or her tonnage
what they see
what they say

Tell the fat lady to call Jenny
I see
I say

Peeling

2011-01-10T06:49:00.000-07:00

Comb-Over

2011-01-08T08:21:00.002-07:00

Hymn to the Comb-Over
by Wesley McNair

How the thickest of them erupt just
above the ear, cresting in waves so stiff
no wind can move them. Let us praise them
in all of their varieties, some skinny
as the bands of headphones, some rising
from a part that extends halfway around
the head, others four or five strings
stretched so taut the scalp resembles
a musical instrument. Let us praise the sprays
that hold them, and the combs that coax
such abundance to the front of the head
in the mirror, the combers entirely forget
the back. And let us celebrate the combers,
who address the old sorrow of time’s passing
day after day, bringing out of the barrenness
of mid-life this ridiculous and wonderful
harvest, no wishful flag of hope, but, thick,
or thin, the flag itself, unfurled for us all
in subways, offices, and malls across America.

you can find more on Wesley McNair here,
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/archive/poem.html?id=179953

TreeShine

2011-01-06T10:47:00.002-07:00

It's a bird!

2011-01-05T09:28:00.005-07:00

Sky sweeper
white-winged speaker with
feathery tips
looking for a landing strip

Frozen beauties
red globes
three
strobes in the snow
flashing for me

Winter's charm

2011-01-03T10:31:00.000-07:00

The snow snakes with a
skin of flakes
along dormant limbs
charming

A snow bone hangs, bent
from winter’s throw
He’s got an arm
that cold bastard

Changing perspective

2011-01-02T07:32:00.002-07:00

Changing perspective.

Yes,
it is time.
Happy 2011 my friends.

Knock Knock

2010-12-29T09:25:00.006-07:00

When the bent elders speak

2010-12-27T20:10:00.006-07:00

When the bent elders speak their tongue is
carried in the wind
to roll in the ears
of the listeners

I’d like to think
that I’m one of those that listen, but on some days
I am so deaf
even to my own whispers
let alone theirs

The log shed (door)

2010-12-26T10:02:00.001-07:00

the log shed, where
we stow summer goods with hope
that the squirrels don’t get
too nosy

we talked about refurbishing it once
about seven years ago
we talked about replacing the door with something
more modern, that doesn’t require a
pulley system

but other living was to be done, which
is good because
I find my eye on that door
plenty

on the shiny pull centered
between metal lines where
a brass key fits
turn it left or right, it
doesn’t much matter
it’ll go, with a
greasy elbow

an 8 by 8 sheet of steel
foolscap full of words that bleed through
faded coats that we can't paint over
or replace

Dressed for winter

2010-12-22T09:49:00.000-07:00

They dressed for winter, those
trees did, and they
flipped my lid with their
high fashion

© Liza Ursu

Happy Holidays, and many blessings everyone.
Thank you for spending time with me.

Three old shacks

2010-12-20T07:30:00.006-07:00

These three old shacks posed
pretty for me
A trinity, of
storehouses aging, better
than I ever could
Yeah, these three old shacks posed
for my one head of wood

© Liza Ursu

Dusk

2010-12-19T09:05:00.004-07:00

As the dark nightie pulled over
the landscape, and the light
faded from shapes
and places

Starry faces started to poke, through the
clouds of pink smoke,
to tell me I,
should retie my laces

The flowers beyond the door

2010-12-19T05:41:00.010-07:00

The flowers beyond the door are blooming.

I can see them,
smell them, their
yellow centers are,
just like mine.

But then,
something walks into me, and
drags me back to
this big,
dark cause,

because I let it.

Yeah, that’s it, yeah,
that’s what I know,
but just like this place,
this sign is,
so grossly worn.

*no admittance pic taken from Internet

my arms still reach

2010-12-11T11:43:00.017-07:00

and though I have been wading in the water under the bridge

my arms still reach
for the moon

Sunrise

2010-11-26T15:33:00.001-07:00

You fill each optic cup
from which I could sip
forever

© Liza Ursu

Slow Drip

2010-11-09T19:05:00.001-07:00

Today passed
like a slow drip
and I lay curled up
in the puddle
that it made

Playing with the moon

2010-11-06T13:29:00.001-06:00

Watching it bend

2010-11-05T11:20:00.001-06:00

Tucking in Sol

2010-10-25T09:01:00.001-06:00

Sky Dancers

2010-10-23T08:10:00.000-06:00

What September left

2010-10-21T11:22:00.001-06:00

I sent for you
see me under
what September left

From the rift, reach
through the bare beech, and
pull me from the beige
brew of October

Descend on me in fall’s decay with
sticks to stir before
the frost fuses me
to the forest floor

Let me gather my love into one
mountainous pile, and
ascend it to give you
all of my heart

Autumn Jazz

2010-10-19T10:06:00.000-06:00

Cloud

2010-10-12T12:45:00.001-06:00

In the deep wood

2010-10-08T07:03:00.004-06:00

This semi-defective mouth,
shut it for a while, and
in the deep wood of
my monkey mind, the
fierce mellowed, and
it felt like a thousand feet
walked out of me

The Laughing Heart

2010-10-02T20:05:00.005-06:00

your life is your life
don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.
be on the watch.
there are ways out.
there is a light somewhere.
it may not be much light but
it beats the darkness.
be on the watch.
the gods will offer you chances.
know them.
take them.
you can’t beat death but
you can beat death in life, sometimes.
and the more often you learn to do it,
the more light there will be.
your life is your life.
know it while you have it.
you are marvelous
the gods wait to delight
in you.

-- by Charles Bukowski

I'm a little lost, but I'm making my way back.
These words from Charles Bukowski cup my heart, and
are very timely, given the hearts I've been seeing
on my walks lately.

I see Fall

2010-09-22T11:38:00.003-06:00

Fall

2010-09-21T12:32:00.000-06:00

Fall on me fast, with
your hours and hue.
Harvest head full, of
your big biscuit moon.

Bales bulge with
summer stalks, some
wheels worth a spin.
Fortune frequent in
your casino, fortune
frequent in your wind.

Walk on your colour, over
dream coated ground, and I
fall in the forest, I
fall in your sound.

© Liza Ursu

and this went too...

2010-09-20T09:57:00.004-06:00

Laying on the floor looking
up at the stack, where
smoke goes from the ash, and
this went too...

Just a jujube eating, Janus-faced
jalopy, a semi-reformed
nail biter trolling round, and
sometimes sloppy

Just a cup of feet, and
fists for shaking, a
lover of cheese, a
mockumentary in the making

Just a beast, mouth
breathing on the feast
fixed within. Drooling all
tooth and grin, with
fire to meat, and
salt to sin

Just a perch, peeling
like a birch
tree, branching with
colour and new
consonants
numbers
vowels
and view

Fire from the Wire

2010-09-17T09:30:00.001-06:00

Eyes spied a
web between wire
rusted barbs that
caught my shards and I
watched it bounce like a speaker to
the bass that played
in the wind

Prevented to proceed once
green reeds now
parched but
ever present
for me
to see
and smile
about them

Almost an eighth left in the horseshoe club

2010-09-15T14:57:00.006-06:00

A half of
a half of
the whole and
about to be halved
again

Traveling troubled in trashy tin
pounding doubled with each detour
wipers wiped with a meal of squeals
Fresh gripes to feed from
through the endless stop and go

Billboards read
Bring your chub to the club
Line up right to
lick the drip but
keep your tongues bit and
your blood had better run quick
in this sickness
Come
be the witness
to the next great thing

Oh great, I thought
with a roll of my eyes
More bite imbued with
sticks
and stones
and glue they
want to ladle into me. For
cash they’ll cradle me
With approved credit I can
crawl, crack and spew
some more for them
to screw

Then one of me remembered, that
in my mainframe, during
the last quarter, I
replicated in triplicate, in order to
appreciate their psycho, though
not one of us has managed to be present for
what that chorus of frogs has to sing to
our machine

No, I dangle somewhere between the
dope(s) and their dollars with
stains and the frowns of scholars that
I have pranced for with little passion
for last year’s fashion
a sweet lot of nothing
called something
to smell of
A gassy bag of assumptions
a big disco of illusion
Yeah, that was my conclusion as I
negotiated through confusion to
clump at my desk with
a brown paper sack and
not nearly my best

© Liza Ursu

I sat, and then I crouched (in some)

2010-09-13T08:58:00.005-06:00

Sitting on soft banks, I
hung happy there
hearing her and
him hum

Sitting in mud squinting
there, in the rush of the elements that
played a symphony
and it simonized me

Sitting under sun, I
was Being there and
beating big under my pigskin
I was soaked
by every ripple
I saw

Crouched in cow pie, I
was without care, though
squatting amongst the shit of future burgers, made
the reality of the barely conscious, barbed-in consumer undeniable
to at least three of my senses

Lady in the Water

2010-09-11T14:24:00.004-06:00

Summer
she turns
and falls into pools that
we will soon skate

Left to the earth 2

2010-09-08T07:24:00.000-06:00

The weathered tones of
this heap hummed in the wind
“Holdup here” I heard, and I
braked for this box of
bleached boards that
clapped while I spied on
the remains of
what I did not know

Guttural junk on
a foundation sunk away
from steps that settled askew. They
once felt feet long
left now for other geography
above and
below
the ground

© Liza Ursu

2010-09-06T08:50:00.004-06:00

Left to the earth

2010-09-05T11:31:00.005-06:00

I found this place that was
left to the earth.
Left to sit and
wear through seasons that
stop in arms too small to
hold it all.

Such thoughts bent
the linear in me as I
circled this shell for a few and
saw life more often than not. This
should not have been a surprise and yet
it was.

The letting of me

2010-08-24T12:08:00.005-06:00

I am seeping from
in between the
filaments that affix me. They
are dark now.
Your plane of pentacles has peaked and
is set to implode.
Your pseudo star gates are not so golden and
we both know it.

I am bending back from
the shots loaded with your "wisdom". I
Will not be whacked
by your holy sock puppet. Your
gun has no impact anymore and
I don’t care how fucking big it is.
Bigger can be better baby, but
you have to know
how to handle the equipment.

I am the blood come from
the cutting that I culled and
from that pool of Zero I
whisper wet from behind your ear
I am shaping myself this time
my dear.

© Liza Ursu

Where love has always been

2010-08-24T06:38:00.000-06:00

Rest in my fields when
you are done running
Break the damn in the fold where
you have been keeping your waters and
let them run down
my spine

Eat from my cupboard while
I thumb the pages of your books
Fill my room with your house
sit in my window and
cover my walls with your
immeasurable view

Climb my roof and
fill my sky with your canvas
Let your stars shine
illuminating where love
has always been

© Liza Ursu

Headin' out

2010-08-23T06:34:00.005-06:00

I’m headin’ out, I'm
gonna get the fuck out of Dodge and head straight into
the devil’s canyon
I’m gonna get me so full of momma’s grub that
I’ll fall asleep on her clapboards

I’m headin’ out yeah,
me the meat head
I'm gonna eat some prairie pavement, I
haven’t traveled that stretch in a while and
I’m gonna do it my style
alone

I’m headin’ out, he’s
stayin’ with those eyes
the ones that I’ll come home to when
the winds blow me back west
Sometimes
that’s best

I’m headin’ out, I'm
gonna go, I’m
gonna leave this rough and
take a tumble with time
somewhere down the road
but I’m comin' back
yeah, I’ll be home

© Liza Ursu

Coral Dream

2010-08-22T07:30:00.000-06:00

Will you dangle your feet with me
over the sun couch behind the 9 ton gate?
Come, let’s drink from moon fountain and
pen a tune
by the grotto of 3 bears

Bring your flowers to
the corner of repentance then
let’s arrange them fresh on
the 5,000 pound heart and
the soft art we make
will be love

Will you
cradle me in the cut rocker
to and fro, to and fro as
telluric forces compel and
quell our stony centers?
All of the weight we've ever known
will turn to dust that
the winds will blow

Let’s look at ourselves through
the Eye of Polaris and
marvel at how the tender tons he flew
nudge the North star

Let’s sift through the rift and
paint the buds and
play in mud and
soak in suds
Let's lay to rest all that has ever been
wanted

© Liza Ursu

Coral Castle http://www.crystalinks.com/coralcastle.html

Image taken from http://www.antigravitytechnology.net/edward_leedskalnin.html

Water Land Sky

2010-08-21T07:46:00.007-06:00

Members of the sun

2010-08-19T09:48:00.004-06:00

From a surface hot
members filled with embers
split their spots and
spin their winds into
twisted pairs of plasma pants that we
sometimes get to try

on for size and
in those khakis we coo
as the Auroras snake over
the two poles and
fill the spectrum with a sight of
wailing photons that
sail the night

I get heady in their gossamer and
steady goes their course through
the congealed corpuscles in my heart where
they echo and vine
emerald strands
unfurl and climb

Signals sent
to my toast and
I get buttered up with
those heavenly hosts whose
fiery fingers flood the air
and snap my windsock as they
cut the snare and
burn away all
of my earthly fear

© Liza Ursu

Chrysalis

2010-08-17T19:34:00.005-06:00

Sometimes I wait for you to emerge through
the door that I opened
The one that only you
can see

Of me
I could give you all and
dash the stash of my diamonds under
the dust of the dendrites I don’t use
They dance for you
even my rust gets a shimmer
when I get a glimmer
of you

No handles to turn or
screams to soothe I
try to create more than salivate
complete more than abbreviate
I’m living
mostly

So, that’s where I’m at
taming the flames and
dodging the poo along
these paths that I choose and
that door remains open
and my tongue
in your groove

© Liza Ursu

To get letters

2010-08-16T14:42:00.003-06:00

Rustling rocks with
my feet and no socks and
the wild whistles while
I totter on rails with oar arms
to get letters

Skipping over greasy ties
I swat my arms at flies and
I squint my eyes and
I scan the skies and
the fields primed with
reeds that rhyme
to get letters

Past the county Quonset and
over the water green
wood and cattails
I hit the gravel road and
spot the stamped shed with
two mailboxes
to get letters

© Liza Ursu

More relish than ritz

2010-08-14T17:39:00.019-06:00

Slathered cheese on
knees scraped and
in dirt I was
free

Free of the finger points and
need of blue ribbons from
which I was cut
well, not really

But she wanted me to shack there
and gloat with her crow
be a showboat
Me
the canoe

©
Image from the Internet

I am (not) a pimple

2010-08-12T19:59:00.001-06:00

Some days I feel like a pimple
on Mother Nature’s ass.
But giving into that seems so easy
so predictable.

Oh woes me
oh woes us!
Time to pop that sucker
or drown in the puss.

Moths and a Mothman

2010-08-11T09:46:00.043-06:00

I was watering the tomatoes, and noticed some moths biding time on the garage. They didn't seem to mind my curious intrusion (and that was/is curious in itself!), which became fevered, after the 2 fliers pictured lofted my thoughts to the illusive Mothman. I wanted more than Hollywood's version of the story (which was all I had ever seen), and so short of having the book The Mothman Prophecies, I went to YouTube and found this documentary.

I tried to take a stab at writing down some words to no avail, and then I found this poem.
(Yes, a poem on the Mothman!)

THE MOTHMAN
for John Keel (RIP)

Here, above,
where fearsome angels cower, the Mothman
glides soundlessly above illusion. The moon
is something that cannot fly, and you cannot see
the moon, below him, as he spreads his terrible wings
his red eyes become the billion-year bloat
of giant stars dying into the useless night of eyes,
yours, folding in to the unremarked of realms.

But when the Mothman
comes, clearly, those who witness him rise above
those realms of plastic and styrofoam. To be human
is to disappoint- so the Mothman never does.
He is the summit of unknown and unbroken expectations,
and the inquisitor who asks: "What is the fallen
in you?" He cannot understand the onlookers
of life, the unmoved at Jericho's tumble.

Up the facades
of inemotion, righter than left, and three winks
from Magonia, he rises, now sounding mechanical,
as if an early helicopter chopping its way
to your comprehension, the full breadth of his wings
spreading, as if to say, "I, too, have form!"
Yet, he has no head, nor mouth, nor nose, nor ears,
just huge glowing eyes in a gray-brown skin.

Then he returns
to earth, leaving the now of your wonder,
as if to instruct the mortal of their poor restraint.
Gently, gently he dares to shaping the odors
of your dreams, disnebulous as your remembrance
of him, filling the emptiness that springtimes do,
at times, distilling your denial into a tear,
singular as a day, but ten times as salty.

Each night he must
dissolve in to a crane, an owl, or a bugaboo
of dismission that underlies comfortability.
But his is not there. He regards it a disease
that the earthbound must overcome. He does
it by looming over the American night, the consensus
universe that you construct. Sometimes, he watches
you as you whistle by the wonder he swallows whole.

If you catch him
looking at you, be very afraid. Not of him,
nor some grim intent, but because his eyes will curve
in to you- hold your eye up to his eye, it is all
blood- a deep placidity no human can share, nor bear,
cool and pure as the scent of a stark dry thing
the wet of an animal's nose remembers, the mist
of a thunderhead's calm, the drum of rain on umbrellas.

by Dan Schneider

And to think, I was just watering the tomatoes.

Prepare to Unload Midpoint

2010-08-09T21:06:00.007-06:00

I lay there
stretched on soapy floors in my corporeal existence
I want to be more
more than melting butter in a cupboard
I know that I am the Wonder bread that never stales
but it never leaves the bag either

I could just be like my father
and bail once the seed is laid
and as I refract
I retract
when I see
that in many regards
I am

I clutch my sides
and dare to digest the sum of my state
I see myself solidifying
becoming something other
not even someone
I am sick of and with myself

And I see the vampires
they are vulgar versions of me
and they begin to vindicate their drain
Their once velvety vernacular is now vile
and though I still feel the pull from the parts of me that want to pity them
I know that I can’t validate their parking
anymore

©

The last time sheet

2010-08-03T09:46:00.007-06:00

Perhaps I have posted something similar to this before
Perhaps I am regurgitating because of the dreams
I still have them
they take me back there
where I ran
nowhere fast...

Along the palisades
there were big parades
that she used to like to attend
Crushing walls
and big corporate balls
she tipped them back
yeah, she could pretend

There were miles of track
and a trillion trains
still she kept up her station
she conducted
despite stains
and fears
she stuffed many clues
and she juggled to hide them
yeah, she tightened the screws

They threw it
and she caught it
and what They spewed
she bought it
A No Returns policy was well planted
she was enameled with enamor
but underneath
she was disenchanted

She caught on to the caper
and placed a promise on a desk
and pictures in a box
but this time
not in jest

What was coming?
Something other to engage
the boil of brains under the foil
something other to old age

She nixed the meekness
where she was mired
and then hard wired
Her stereo
with Her sound!
and she listened to the colour
yeah, she no longer felt bound

©

On Today's Menu

2010-08-02T12:55:00.001-06:00

Chalk Board Menu, originally uploaded by mrybuckler.

Too many commas
too many carbs
not enough spaces
too many barbs
caught in my flesh
I’m in the mesh
of the middle
Will I be the burp
or the shit and the piddle?

©

Storm Stunned

2010-08-01T09:03:00.007-06:00

I passed through
to pull at the mystery
and my breath
was picked up by the wind

My hair left my shoulders
cut by wind shears that stole my style
and I
liked it

Through hammering heads
I reached for the eye
Pinhole burns from sparks of Sol punctured the dark shelf
The air was charged
and I
was static

I was stunned
like a deer
while the rain ate my fire
and fluorescent forks were pitched
across the dark

Limbs and trees bent
and there were mantras of confidence repeated
I hung under an overhang
where dry spots died
quickly

Big sound cracked
as the black blanket pulled itself due east
leaving me stunned
like a deer
still

©

Walk and Thought

2010-07-30T14:42:00.026-06:00

I like to walk
in the morning
when the dew
can catch on my feet
with dirt
and bits of grass.
That morning brew
never gets weak.

The fungus among us
is plentiful this year
and HUGE!
I haven’t eaten any
but I’ve kicked some
and there’s no need for Dr. Scholl’s
for that foot full of fungus!

Mother Nature spits!
In the shape of a Praying Mantis no less!
Are those mushrooms making me mental?

I relish the rhubarb
finger its curls
and ruby stalks.
Crumble or pie?
Is this Shambhala?

The path I take is well worn
like the ring around the pit
where fires
and marshmallow feasts abound.
I rest there
amongst the ash
hoping that tomorrow
I shall find myself
on the rise again.

From my ice box

2010-07-29T08:44:00.008-06:00

I get scrambled
when I try too hard
and the egg fu yung gets
everywhere

Broken embryos
over a literary learner’s license that should be revoked on most days
I know
I know

So please pardon my threadbare ego
and know that I’m really more Eggo
plain
sometimes vain
and I’ve been sliced
thoroughly

I put a lot of meat on the hook
more than I can chew
or should
but it’s out there now
doing the old rot and swing

©
Note photo taken from
http://www.texasescapes.com/CentralTexasTownsSouth/Branchville-Texas.htm

As Above, So Below?

2010-07-28T12:51:00.011-06:00

Big Oily Mouth

2010-07-26T16:05:00.001-06:00

Living outside in
a big oily mouth
the feature creature sat in a bleacher
to the left
of the Incisor

Scented litter
wet with plaque
was strewn between rows
and popcorn pointed
to the starting decay

Crowns and cavities clashed
Rot rose
to the surface with sharpness
where hot and cold
felt the same

The drill killed
and the hole was filled
and freshness wreaked from a forced flossing

Bibbed
and frozen
the spit came easy after the polish
but not the bill

And the big mouth gaped
feeling raped
but not so oily
anymore

©