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

March 23, 2015

FILLS

Filed under: Uncategorized — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , — namelessneed @ 4:02 am

the night fills book shelves

of newselves

and ghosts ancient that go silent

after you dare to glare it down.

the night fills full boxes

of hoaxes

all honest, bold-faced hazy facades

and full frontal epiphanies

February 11, 2015

SHUNNING CLASSICAL INVESTIGATION

It’s meant to be  a pair of documents,

Y’see, But I signed both.

.

Caught, I could  share   the clench

He put on that  pair of documents.

.

Bright lights washed this whiteish room.

The solemness thing   a candle brings,

Though I searched,  all the shadows had no shade in this room.

.

We digressed some away from

the heart of the matter

When he stressed  my stories were

fog & mirror

.

I’m sure I concurred  that if

Scenes and factors shift

From tellings to retellings,

It seems the fact is  seems shifty.

.

“But plainly, a  planned  lie,

A tall Alibi, that had ironclad  unchanging,

Mimicry! is one word for word bed story,

Read to children.

.

Isn’t that one good bet

That wins & sets the liar free”

.

I think he let it sink in, and then set.

.

“And you expect me to reject

Classic casebook investigation technique

& instead of  doubting inconsistency,

Instead ..One consistent story

Is a tell tale “good bet”

for Guilty?  And yet,

changing ones tune again & again  is uniquely

Honest?   it’s best to revise to clarify..

As one more clearly

recalls  new  old  details?

Just as pieces of night dreams

Resurface  into..Really??!”

.

“Um, yes.”

September 10, 2014

My Ravine

 

 

When I arrive at my ravine

& even the underlying lies fall off,

Even then,  all the subtle murmurs can mean

Something sure enough to  yell off.

.

If  & when I can arrive at my ravine cliff

I’ll sort the certainties, the lies

Of agonizing hesitations, if

Only  one  clarity would rise.

June 2, 2014

our cooler’s got

Filed under: Uncategorized — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , — namelessneed @ 9:11 am

 

 

 

I’m muddied, still bloodied

from Monday night’s  fight.

While yr white wine’s worn off

My  new morning   is both  still,  &; still storming.

But it’s cool  our cooler’s got

Love Lite   all bottled up &; on ice.

,

.

.

.

.                                                               (from 2009, & still)

 

March 3, 2014

“A LITTLE SHY AND A LITTLE RUM”

Filed under: Uncategorized — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , — namelessneed @ 1:15 pm

 

“THERE ARE SUCH A LOT OF THINGS THAT HAVE NO PLACE IN SUMMER AND AUTUMN AND SPRING. EVERYTHING THAT’S A LITTLE SHY AND A LITTLE RUM. SOME KINDS OF NIGHT ANIMALS AND PEOPLE THAT DON’T FIT IN WITH OTHERS AND THAT NOBODY REALLY BELIEVES IN. THEY KEEP OUT OF THE WAY ALL THE YEAR. AND THEN WHEN EVERYTHING’S QUIET AND WHITE AND THE NIGHTS ARE LONG AND MOST PEOPLE ARE ASLEEP
— THEN THEY APPEAR.”

– TOVE JANSSON, MOOMINLAND MIDWINTER

.

.

.

 

 

 

 

the night fills book shelves

of newselves

and ghosts ancient that go silent

after you dare to glare it down.

the night fills full boxes

of hoaxes

all honest, bold-faced hazy facades

and full frontal epiphanies

.

.

.Image        White Night Edvard Munch – 1901

 

January 5, 2013

Free From The Fix

FREE FROM THE FIX (I can find myself in)

January 5, 2013

Court fans helped cool it all down.

They  called  it

On account of a hung jury.

Collective  unconscious,

Jung’s blurred things,

His thinking slurred all the town.

The thing is, I’m thinking,

Not “It’s a hot July”,

As the massive Law’s doors

Miss and swing by and behind me,

But “It’s way tres’ cool for a hot July.”

November 13, 2012

My Own Parade

Filed under: fragments, rhyme — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , — namelessneed @ 1:58 pm

 

 

 

 

Walking, mostly in clockwork close meter,

Warmer ghosts  from my former  features;

All the roles, All the resume’,

Falling in line,  just the crew to rescue me.

Faded as sad old soldiers,

Vain fantasies say old glories.

Again, always, They had  heaved it all in a chest.

Again, always, they had heaved in their chest

& took it to heart.

.

I’ll call it for you  my own VFW

hall. I have my own tall tales to tell,

We’ll share lies, & libations.

I’ll wear my  mightier  pen.

I’ll share  sham wisdom  wide open.

But first, false memories in verse.

& what’s worst,  I’ll con, & confide  open.

.

.

.

.

“I’m ready to go anywhere/ I’m ready for to fade/ Into my own parade”

—————-Dylan (the troubadour one), from “Mr. Tambourine Man”

.

.

.

.

“Every hero becomes  a bore, at last.”  -Ralph Waldo Emerson

 

 

November 5, 2012

Director

Filed under: fragments, prose — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , — namelessneed @ 9:34 am

.

.

 

 

,

.

.

Before  I can

Finally rest in peace

I hope  I can

Film  my  masterpiece

Hope I’m around

To get down  One P.O.V.

Though  honestly

Once embroiled in the dour

Toil & task  I’d more

Likely  less honestly…

I’d allude to  motion pictures’

Laws of illusion, facts mixed with fictions

And when signing off very late

Off to their too soft waiting cinema seats

(“Out there in the dark”)

I’d tout   toujour perdrix

French for “Too much of a good thing”, Oui?

As  the last resolve.

I doubt I’d  frame it all

In the ole  fade out

I’d bet  I’d settle for

A  last  dissolve.

April 7, 2010

s t I N K

of all the lies

in the air

that this liar

is truely unaware of

(is  ’truely’  the right word?)

of all the lies

casual and caressing there

the air currents  n

night blooming jasmine

(is  ’current’  the correct word?)

the golden ones have come from…

(I’ve told em. All alchemy.)

emboldened lies, all born, I imagine,

from an open pen draining onto pages,

                                      .

from nothing.