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Mumblings / Poetry, Late 2017

Like mentioned on the other poetry pages, it's James Dickey-inspired poetry. Not sure why all these ended up on yet another separate page. It seemed necessary to break up the uploads of dazzling, brilliant prose. (heh, heh)

NOTE: None of these are repeated in the not-exactly-new-anymore digital poetry book, Brief Tales of Compromised Solutions

 

Off-Conscious

Fallen off-conscious

Letting too much blue hang off your tired limbs

The propositions of guns for hands

The reality of the world at your fingertips

Well you can dump that shit in the already dead ocean

You had your chance for the burning sand beaches

The gentle palm tree sway

The orgasm filled coconuts

The postcards for the lawyers

The same last fifteen years stacked on top of each other

That's why you didn't realize you were just living in a better smelling warehouse

You think it's just one sober thing keeping you from the happy ending sunset

But really it's a passed out eight

 

Three wheeze blend

Uncorked behind the doctor's office

Gives all the sounds you'd hope for

Bringing down the drapes and curtain in a two kilometre radius

Switches up the guilty and innocent for the afternoon

Late celebrations are worse than no celebrations at all

Especially if the nurses have already headed home with the hot appetizers

Lying on the table with your hands painted red

Eyes looking for that spot between the ceiling lights

Not dark but not full of confident shine either

 

The headache on the kitchen counter and the lumps in the cheap glass

Plenty of free cold seats when everyone else is trying

Drinking your calories away in deep sighing silence

A new story with the same ending

The worst hammer blows are the ones you feel two weeks later

And then have to retrace the miserable dizzy steps to figure out just when it fell

All the types of paranoid dripping through the ear slipping through the cracks before the brain and pooling right in the balls of the feet

The sort of people who would feed stray dogs and empty their pockets to runaway teen bankers

No clerk would tell them sorry we're closed

Because they make the circles so it all comes back to them

 

Midnight in the shoulders

Carries the dreams of the night

Someone is still dancing in the freezing cold morning

Dying of stardust laden sweat

 

 

Senses

And the sound

Of the buildings burning

Did nothing for me

 

And the sight

Of the numbers repeating

Forced a quick yawn

 

And the taste

Of newly scattered dust

Meant a dull sneeze

 

And the smell

Of desperate guilty blood

Hung with makeshift gallows

 

And the feeling

In the pit of my many stomachs

Was of tired hunger

 

Eating Yellow Light

Eating yellow light with the memory banks on empty

Getting fat and satisfied on the same stories caught into the photocopier

Busy making sure I learn at least something from the leaves

Whether falling from the branches or floating in my tea

This was something in those grey echoes on endless rain afternoons

Either much too early

Or just too late

 

I plow the tender newsfeed fields

Their approximate number of legs wrapped around my quaking torso

Aggregate sweat and synergic fluids

Sucking on the bountiful tits of freedom

 

Picked apart at birth

The fingers from the nails

The hair from the chest

The third eye from the forehead

These songs have all been sung before

But if it's not fresh to your twisting ears you'll never hear it properly

 

Pretty speeches and ugly actions

Big talk across a thin green-grey interzone

I've got the be set upon by the finest wolves to really get to the bottom pit of still having a heart beat

Through old block windows I peer at a forest that still doesn't have to care

It's rocks in your shoes getting drunk and hooking up with bad luck

Time to remember how to fuck the field

Moving the office furniture after six thirty

 

 

August Shivers

The words came off the icy runways

Their warmth fading beneath the dark grey clouds

Albert unhooked the second half of himself and with this unseasonable chill became Alice

All thanks to August Shivers

 

The halls were finally without power

Their walls cracking from lack of slovenly attention

Angel shed part of their wings and with an artist's touch became Andrew

All thanks to August Shivers

 

The fevers were lost among the mercury

The temperatures cruelly taken and never replaced

Sara dashes her staff upon the sun and with its release became Sam

All thanks to August Shivers

 

The food was spread too thin in the sudden frost

Teeth chattering preparation applied for forgiveness

Leona gave part of herself up for a chant and became a troubadour named Leonard

All thanks to August Shivers

 

The entropy jumped the calendar makers

Caught off guard and cooly winded forever and ever aw man

Stewart had his abscess frozen off with nitrogen and traded it for a sing and became Stella

All thanks to August Shivers

 

 

Cool Forehead Hands

Certain of the hands upon the cool forehead

Getting to know the ticks of the clocks too well

Living with guaranteed assistance

Whether starting up or winding down the sell

 

My eyes get lost in pale sea of linoleum tiles

I'm falling through the flashes of old stories endlessly repackaged with contemporary clothes

The patterns spin slowly and my head begins to feel heavy

I'm fighting against a sensation that wants to me give in to the thoughts of those

 

That make me doubt my slow decisions

I'm wondering if there something in the speed of yes right now no second thoughts

The headline fires and my head begins to feel heavy

I'm walking close to the tracks that flash silver and hit the ground when the shots

 

Ring out not far above me

Wishing I had the foresight to write living cheques to cover her rent

Ready to tap out the baked fresh bad news

I don't have enough information to save you from the current

 

Events unfolding in borrowed time

So tired I almost forgot to breathe

In hell and they showed me the exit

But I couldn't be bothered to leave

 

Mixing up hands and feet

Walking open the door

Giving toes instead of fingers

And asking the ceiling for more

 

 Throwing words like darts

Bending to the drunken line

It worked out the way we thought it would

But we couldn't get out in time

 

When it comes to searching for God

You're like a common whore

Take whatever's close by

And get both knees on the floor

 

Dear Lover

Dear Lover

In the Distance

In the Distance

I've been thinking

In the Distance

In the Distant

Of Places

In the Distance

 

Forgotten Enemy

In the Station

In the Station

We've been sinking

In the Station

In the State

Of chases

In the Station

 

Old Friend

In the Memory

In the Memory

It's been blinking

In the Memory

In the Moment

Of faces

In the Memory

 

 

This Was Like Something Else

This was like something else

But I understand you wouldn't want to say it aloud

Because the brand new lawyers are listening

The kind with running down their faces instead of veins

 

It's the little differences that keep your gold heart pumping

But I understand you wouldn't hold my hand to your chest

Because the doctors just got sick of the ancient oaths

And even bad ideas are contagious on these sky grey days

 

You raise your empty glass to the hollow days and weeks

But I understand you wouldn't swear on any advent calendars

Because the priests just don't keep time like they used to

Since all the junkies sold the furniture from the rectory

 

My hand in the writing on the wall

It was all over in a flash officer

That's what so great about these things

All those seconds just crawl by

 

Let's say you combed all the hair and sand

So that it's all in place until the cold winds hits

And it doesn't matter if you got all the clubs

In a neat little pile beneath your box of feet

 

If that is the particular case

And I can measure the sun with the space between my fingers

Then there is a good chance that I'm out of them

And you've intentionally misunderstood the building

 

Crashing the car into domesticity

A thief in the evening because of tiny schedules

The bearers of life burning it off at an exponential rate

But it's all good because life would

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You always call me weak when I'm playing my strengths