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

May 29, 2017

STARES AND A LOOK

Filed under: fragments, lost, POEM, poetry, prose, Uncategorized — Tags: , , , — namelessneed @ 2:28 pm

 

 

S T A R E S

Where is the wound that shines?

Well Over 50 years on

Over this  his day, on?

My Back  way against all this memorial day shite  here

I’ll intentionally send me  to a ill-shielded shy there,

Back at  again to that  day where

I’m Far  too young  to fathom,

Or even  notice  yr. crevasse,

Yr  Grande Malaise,

Yr. countdown…Yr. Pass.

It makes me madly think now

It takes  the saddest thing    to tell now..

Stuck in a stack of old NewYorkers

There’s this raw cartoon drawing;

A mere boy  drawn in black & white

Stands on a step of his own basement,  stares,

He did look down on his own  livid  apocalypse,

His lips, and the caption say

“It’s  A.O.K.”

.

Here is the wound that shines

Tonight, a glint off yr. cracked onyx ring.

I lift it  in my open fist to my lips.

.

.

L  O  O  K

.

Hope  we’re having  a heaven  so

I’ll look all about  &

Daddy can call out, (& it won’t hurt, no)

He’ll look just like he just got home from work:

“There’s my inquisitive young man,” he’d shout.

We’d have it out;

My young man’s mystery,

His young man’s misery.

We’d upheave it out. One Heavy inquiry would unfold

If he mightn’t have killed himself  he might have taught me:

“You gotta take the bite of bitter with the cold”

.

My Mother could steady things when she told me

When I was ready she told me:

“I know, I know,

With time…

We’ll  heal.

He  was  not  well.

They say  that You/

Have his look.

You  know.

You know

I say  ‘You’ll/

Try having my smile’”.

.

.

.

.

For always, again, rest in peace, daddy 3/21/1929-5/29/1959

September 18, 2015

HOW THEN THE HEAVENS POURED

Filed under: Uncategorized — Tags: , , , , , , , — namelessneed @ 9:24 am

Should I get older

I recognize me,  more blind,

Crinking my neck back, there, as

I look up at the cliff terrace

And A windowed hideaway behind,

Not so unapproachably high,

Fixed over our Pacific, finally,

That we thought might couldn’t be.

Hard rain, hell, wept down a wet

that mixes well w/regret, on my shirt

.

2

.

One can look past all our four shoulders

From inside the glass wall

On the backside of our Adirondacks

And maybe just make out

What we’re watching and talking about.

A man closely following his own footsteps

The long stretch of the shore,

But looked up at the both of us,

Here Hand in hand, and how then the heavens poured.

May 23, 2015

LOUD BARE TREES SWING ‘ROUND, THEN STOP

I must discuss

A dark circus is in town

A boy in a spin, and trees swing around

He drops, and the swing stops

New dewfrost falls, he’s lost

In all the bare trees

.

A heavy disguise

Could be of use here

So cover your eyes, please

Your lover’s indecent

And trying on lies

His heart’s denying hard here

It’s a fact;  Abstract lies

.

Squeezebox  hymns  seem

To squish by inbetween

Aligned  treebark

Lighted & Loudened by a fullmooncloud

Lions let free/  Dark

Circus tonight and if I might

Mix in that crowd

A heavy disguise could

Be of some use

May 9, 2015

J U S T

I.     Lost

.

For now, awhile, I won’t let you pull me from the wreckage

But, how  you hold my hand, for both of us

Until the jaws of life  arrives/

Tho’ I’m not at a lost of words, I’m lost

In thought, “I’m lost”, I thought,

“And hiding from the hidden costs.”

.
 II.  Birdsong
.

I’ll dare to speak of sparrows

in shrapnel filled WW I battlefield winds,

in sharp scarlet dawns

they’ll sing to find their kind

if they’ve  lived,

a song will find its way back,

between the  blood & budding daybreak

.
   III.    J U S T
.

it could be/ a branch of a tree

perched at a high hill

would have a new bud  just

breaking through/ it would be just for you

and in time  a blossom. You’d just

lift yr arm up/ and pull it down/ just in time

to drink it through

with yr deepest stealing breath.///

.Image

April 27, 2015

DELIRIUM TREMENDOUS

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 repacked 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

.

.

.

catalysts:Sunni, Rickie Lee,Gillian Kidd Osborne, & a fine massage, finally

March 5, 2015

Mostly Too Costly

When the task  at hand…

When I’m asked to pay & pay

More  attention,

I  say,

It’s mostly  too costly and

It’s evident  one’s needs warrant

Intervention.

.

It’s  ridiculous,  

I’m  impossible,

I’m impervious  to all I’m capable.

February 19, 2015

T H E W A I T I N G

Filed under: Uncategorized — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , — namelessneed @ 9:05 am

Image

I couldn’t keep my shirt on

I actually had a hand at the door

I wouldn’t wait for the EKG guy

.

The express lines were full up at the IGA.

So was the cart in front of me, the one in my way.

My body required liquids  I needed to buy.

& me, I wouldn’t wait for the EKG guy

.

My car needed work (I see I did too, OK?)

Ever  still again, Time stalled & would stay.

Never, “Our time is up for today”

I’d bet Time’s  a fleeting debt, not a gift.

I about bolted  but my Ford’s on the lift.

.

You’d think a man with wait issues

Would shy away some

From a long-distance love, he could only see some.

How he’d wait & wait for  her laugh on the phone

How he’d wait & wait for  her letters to come

How he’d wait & wait for  liaisons  alone

How he’d wait & wait for  a time all their own.

.

.

.

.Artwork  “The Waiting”  kindly loaned by Christian

http://chriseastmids.deviantart.com/

February 17, 2015

JUST/MISS

When I don’t hear from her

When we don’t talk

Instead of what might

just happen in late night

screwball comedies,

A black & white

Cakewalk

Where he keeps

Just missing her,

& unknown to her, her one & only is so near,

& you watch & wait for them to wise up,

For when their timing improves.

When I don’t hear from her

When we don’t talk

Instead of just sitting tight,

& trusting the plot twists,

& trusting our protagonists,

& holding still for all that insignificant subterfuge

Until it all plays out that

They can finally take cuts in the

Everything’s-Fine waiting line/

Instead of that

He keeps just missing her.

.

.

.

.

Yesterday at the yoga class

I was asked to exhale out

All the inside I saw as unsettled.

And all this matter turned to air.

Then, to take in a new air. A More awake. A More aware

Just

Miss

.

.

(From a year ago)

January 21, 2015

Flash Session

All Paul Simon sang  he

Via telephone headphones  to me

“..half of the time  you’re gone..

but you don’t know where

you don’t know where.”

i  wept  at  work.

.

Yet i got Simic  in his lunch sack/

I got Irish for when i get home

For salve & for saving him/

More, I have a mate giving me gladness

Across  the  state

I love indirectly  like madness

January 17, 2015

AND AN ADDLED, SAD MAN SAID

It’s unsafe for you too

Assume  We’re leaning

Into Leaving

(an intangible caress)

I lean into

The careening custody  of my mess.

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