Poem (October 2008)

Attitude elated
Smoking out sedated
Mountain dwellers for the weekend
Flushed, over zealous
Competing
Cut communications
Phone lost into the ether
And a second memory lost forever
Petty arguments
Affected pretension
Condescension
Aggravates
Constant commentary grating
And it's not that I care
But there's nowhere else to be
I document it
For what purpose?
Trivial specks on the earth's surface
Invisible from atmosphere
The Angel of Death? San Miguel
Protecting the chapel
Everyone must practice here
But now she wants the Virgin out of the room
Big gesture empty
And my eyes are rolling
Our compasses are all wayward
And we're forgetting why we're afraid of ourselves
And the light within
Still we navigated homeward bound
More herbs burnt to toast the plastic sound
Finally it's just me and the pad
Teenager,
was enraged for my culture and the ignorance displayed
No longer mad but melancholy and sad for the lost potential
In these days.

Poem (October 2008)

Trading off human flesh
Elbow deep in the charnel
Smiling whilst they work
We feed off one another
A gibbering ritual
of discourse pulsating to fill the air with
signifers of liberty
signposts of righteousness
Ugly empty masques for lust
I'm choking as I lay
Blades buzzing beside
On the lies, the guilt, the realities and the ideals
The cloth quilt by which I habitually
smother my being from the elements of truth that litter our living
Discarded, unwanted
Unsightly, irregular
They constitute our essential character
And I can't get away fast enough

Strength, wisdom and charity are the common currencies
Devalued into decrepitude
I'm weak, lustful, sick, fetid and duplicitous
But my feet are on the ground
My eyes are on the heavens
I breathe deep of the elemental truth and firm my grip on the first hand hold.

Dissertation almost done. Too many words, too many anxieties.Too Too many distractions. Too much procrastination.

I Will Not Lose.

Stories

Stories
Every story excludes.
Every story is not alone.
No story is ideologically neutral.
Every story presents a hierarchy of relationships.
Every lives and breaths it's meaning in a web of other stories.
Every story legitimates a centered point of view, a worldview, or an ideology.
Every story self-deconstructs since it is embedded in changing meaning contexts.

Poem, early am September 7th

The threat of industry prompts retreat
And the golden net of family cuts deep
Pleasurable and grim, gritted with the truth of grief to come
Soon or later
Balled, uneven, quavering
Embedded in chest cavity
Distant guilt, close to home, anywhere in the world
Diplomatic invitations and procrastination
I shall carry this with me
Weightless as a leafs memory
Important as the wet lick of passion
Unsung, nothing obstructing it's pure being
These are the boundaries of my understanding
Because neither logic nor luncacy will help me here
Set me free or let me steer
I stand in one place and life moves around me
I puff pretty balls of hot air
I massage my conscience and placate myself with reason
But nothing else matters if when it matters I'm not there

Poem (December 2006)

Do not attempt to disseminate your energies to the four winds
You will be dissapated
Do not try to force your qualities into the oceans
They will be diluted to the point of translucence
Do not push to build your self around the universe
There will never be enough of you to go round
Feel the wind around you and stand firm
You may be blown away
Feel the rain caress your body
You may shiver and squelch
Reach out and touch another person and
Remember that the universe is always with us.

Poem

Luminescent, this star
radiating brilliance
In a world of dim dull daggers
oiled in the dark,
Lights a path for others;
Simply, clearly, task by task
turn by turn
always present at your shoulder
never past
never
trailing gold dust that flatters to decieve before vanishing
Feminine, holding to no hardness
In the world and of the world whilst occupying space
Bathed in the warmth of blessed being
Insights abound like lazers, comets
Ideas break the surface for feeling.

Born ageless and brave
time slows and flucuates in the prescence of the source
Tides of gravity wash over the surface and throught he heart
a poised potent force
Dense beyond measure
Dancing centred
Lifes simple pleasures
Beyond complex

So do we seek to analyse,
divide, package, leave nothing to survive,
Suck the light out of life?
Doe we leave nothing to chance like humanity isn't in the sparks of imagination
that riddle the frayed cloth of reason to create better situations
Turn back clock hands and change seasons so that the winter of my
discontent springs skyward and becomes the seed of change
floating on summer's breeze?

The answer searched for blossoms every second in the flowers of romance,
of unreason, of passionate colour, shape, intuition and feeling,
Growing toward her lights.