Honestly, I'm a Liar, & Other Balances & Imbalances

August 29, 2009


Treaties prove more a token,

Dontcha think?

A fakeout move to placate

What’s spoken

Or whatcha think




Creative quiet might surely cure

What ails a failing  relate.

What’s more

It’s  whatcha  think


August 27, 2009

Another Dawn (against my deep green leather, on)

I take my ten tablets.

Wash  ’em w/ Irish.

It’s my time

for medicine,

& no time for nonsense.

Work for cash is already done.

I’m ready to pull hard

for a merciful god.

Finally I’ll try my hand

To move a pen

To move my words

To move me.

August 25, 2009

Closed To Salvos

I’m just in a need to imagine

Try..See the sensuous sounds

Tremendous noises that fireworks pounds &

Drums out to all that come out

To sit and see, or try to see

(veracity and reds on closed eyelids)

where a hill should be.

August 24, 2009


Eyes out to recognize passion:

It’s flatbacked against a dark wall

in the basement, burrowing deeper into sad shadow.

I’d bet it’s hiding some, a child’s cruel game.

When people see they’re empty

They write in to newspapers & ask real advice,

exposing & espousing about

“spicing up”  their  lovelives.

Girls & boys buying new nightclothes,

sex-scents, and other eaus,

bought to butter up their battered beaus,

enhancing  romance drugs

from teevee, junk mail,

and toys that are tools

for fixing whats failed.


There’s always  something new,

someone new/ anything new.

Venture steps forward

away from the old?

Nature’s warmblooded creatures

home in on settleings less cold.






midnight chord

“life is like a stage, I guess

love is stages of undress”



side effects may include

-absently staring into space (not time)

-walking into walls

-walking through walls

-delusions (the good kind)

-A cute optimism

-serious loss of scepticism, doubt, & Down.

-control issues

-Fact, being better than it seems

-a packed pocketful of dreams

-spells of snow angels

-pretty picturewindows in a bomb shelter

-There’s a bird on a word

-There’s a drunk in a midnight chord

-we all scream.. for vanishing cream

-Alas, Atlas, tonight at least…
-don’t operate heavy machinery

-Blue Skies

catalist: Ricki Lee, Sunni,Gillian Kidd Osborne

August 22, 2009


Filed under: poetry — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , — namelessneed @ 9:13 am

…but from here; a boxed baggage bin,

in whatever vessel burning

Point on  into blank, frigid forths.

Andever vexed in yearning.


Blind Pilgrims; taxed temporal things

Kinshipbourne, trapped, as my fathers.

Captive on this  course, We’re  bound to be,

Forlorn,  for treks  on farther.





 from years ago, for  Daddy


August 20, 2009


jazzing low the box before I go to sleepmode.

letting go.

falling so, near foreigners

for our modern science,

more    our freshest poetry.



the plane

that I said just now has sent us,

led,  and just now   lent us

home some

August 19, 2009

Filed under: poetry, prose — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , — namelessneed @ 12:00 pm

pray, tell

There’s a pretty way to spell out

                                  my long sentence.

If random luck holds out perhaps

The power, like lightening

                                 stabbing down my stance,

I’ll light up  dark dancing

X rayed in a cartoon.

Man, I’ll be lit up like a mantle

                                      in a lantern soon.

Windfall clarity should scare me.

If I should flinch when I have by chance

An unscrambled avalanche

Doled out again as an hour old

Soulful  pillow  rain, I’ll miss when

The words come,

Spilling the spaces.

I ain’t nervous of naked undersurfaces

August 15, 2009


if I could just muster

enough  wherewithal

for focusing, & bluster,

to love to turn over a new life;

to get outa Dodge, get outa Denver,baby,


get outa my lodgings, get outa my lease maybe,

get away from it all, the stale stuff at least maybe

I could call and change all my cards

Change my look, names I go by.

Airlines are trying to save themselves too with

outrageous rates & fares for anywhere outa here.

Or I could get in and drive.


but I don’t have that kinda drive

no muster no bluster can’t focus worth shit

wherewithal ain’t there at all

It’s likely too that

that new life

won’t fit

August 14, 2009

Stoicism is a prison

Though I break out

Though I break down

Through the pull of a merciful act

Then I’m old and too weak to hold back



I can imagine a troubled

Panicicked angel tangled double;

One cat caught in a grate

A girl unfair in a wheelchair

Nears and dares her balance, her endurance, her tolerance

Strains all of her weight

Shows the pain that she’s used to on her face


Then relief, and they’re both free

She and the cat both refuse to

Cry more,

Like those that might see

August 13, 2009

grimy mirror rhyme



It’s likely my loved ones won’t lose too much sleep

They like me, they think  so

Though know me a creep

It may be the smile I only suggest

They’re charmed for the charm I clearly suppress

They’re taken by my picture

A  fixture on my wall

I’m faking the frame-up.

It’s best I suggest a smile once a while

And pleasingly say it all  (or not)

Easily for a touched-up wall





And  true love waits /in haunted attics

And true love lives/on lollipops and crisps”


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