a find from a dusty basement box!

16

I’ll be 16 tomorrow

I’ve heard it said that milestones lie everywhere

cloaked in tawdry shifts of meaning and anticipation

and strains of outward adultery

insights monstrous pleas

raging inward in multiplicity

predisposed anchors of time and shapes

in righteous fields of disgrace

in emptiness knowing what the ordinary

should

and

be

I’m terrified of dawn breaking but night never stops for me

the penultimate battle

if I only bleed out the terrible collision

stiff taking inspire what my will steal

ingracious epic of matter descending

if I postulate on tomorrow and steel conjecture

the time defiles me more than any posed insight

reach me please!

Apollo! take me with you

take me on your peregrinations, shine your light on me

the wolf and crow and griffin; mine

guard me from the call of your Artemis, who drags me unto the darkness stained with moonlight

Apollo! into everything I’ll bargain giving up my steadfast

forward

stone me- I will be frozen for eternity:

let me be your Hyacinthus!

I’m not a man yet so hear me beg

I’ll try the liquid fire in my belly, scare the dark

captures me

I’m made of nothing

but I’ll give everything

Take me Apollo!

my cowardice knows no bounds

with nothing defining my self of copper

caducity drowning my meantime

forever let it not be me

The Dawn Is Your Enemy

Loveless by name,

and,

perhaps also in nature.

By that which is exposed at the earliest point 

to the severe chronic cacophony of the avifaunal court, 

insidious interlopers anticipating, 

basking in the coming symphony of light and sound and motion;

as was promised by the mere melting of evening before.

As it sank around us 

sedately washing the shine of day from view for the glorious stretch of

still.

And, this, the regale expanse pacing our hero

can only offer shelter and calm and dark which appears

at once to alienate and amplify the emptiness, 

observes benevolently

patient as we find in time, 

as pupils mirror the moon, 

the shadows who follow us faithful, and the stretch of everything beyond our grasp yet omnipresent.

Our hero,

Loveless, by name, and with time, not by nature-as realisation rarely presents itself,

and enlightenment less often still.

Night would never spoil our joke.

some Stu's, yo-

and here's the shit what we done with it!
embiggen it? click that shit!

don't worry about it for now-

Sorrow strewn-
blazing forever in a cut across the night
unbidden
racing like for...ever
fickle scars of skin pricked rage
suppressed in smooth odes of lust
Fight me now,
raise the unending expanse that masks exits
slippery reveal
the masks of our own
Sweet stench- the sickly flow staunched
by fear fading
swept
in impossible currant-stained
current, carrying the means in molten slicks
twisting scorched rivers of iced ichor
searing the way, belying the true strength
of what is
given
here it is
again that it must play out
surviving surely on what is known
Silent sinking-
below impenetrable depths unabashedly concealing
concrete gold
sudden corned alchemy
screams cry cutting through the atmosphere howling
betraying frustrating failures
revealing nothing but
albus
pure and blank
binging on desperation
devoid of all understanding
unyielding, jeering new slang
Spoken swell
chasing speckled shade transformed as a faun
changing into solid smooth charring overtaking what once was
yet will still be
amalgamation of before and now and will
grieve the loss of certainty
a greater pain
than to know what was never had
the half wish breeding
expounding transparently
useless pointless
inviting silver-tongued speech
forced through cruelly empty cochlea
a casualty of comprehension
ponder the impossible
profound blindness in
ironic iconoclasm

knuckle sandwich IV

crushed
swallowed whole by the breaking crest
the last embers doused
the dark waves
come crashing down, obliterating
any last
glow
washed away
now sea of darkness
cry out
sharp-tongued kick
of a wounded animal
cutting through the silence
darkness under the
foamy roar of the waves
above
see the surface slipping further
out of reach
sinking
reach out
stretch my arms wide
pull the waters past me
journey to the sky
if there was anything
for me above
drop like the lost chance
smooth stone
undisturbed
not to be found

for now

knuckle sandwich III

remember the night-
smooth fire light
shadows danced my shadowed wants
sweet stolen moments of
golden joy
lost
ties cut abrupt
in a stark motion shift
black to white
blinding my uncertainty
darkness
the sleeping beast of joy
slumbers
waiting
later
later
at first glimpse of light
the beast slumbers still
blank knowing
lost to the wind
he who reaches me
an almost invitation
swept away
but still, then
the crashing dream pounds
shattering the shore
awakening with an anguished roar
the beast
broken waves
rain down the forgotten scent
drenching me with
familiar fire
sweet liquid glance in dim
commotion
vex myself for closed eyes
if it's a second round
playing out before me
lost second chance
glowing embers
spark in me
if i could
if i could obtain it
if i could find a way
i could be happy,
it seems
always obscure
and just out of reach
again
lay the foundation
wait
wait for the golden rain

Bright Anvil VII

Bright Anvil VI

Bright Anvil V

Bright Anvil IV

Bright Anvil III

Bright Anvil II

Bright Anvil I

knuckle sandwich II

flame lit glance
across at me
first sight
lost in the mix
of fire light
and then gone
but not forgotten
searching
found in the absence
of light
sun seared
morning rustlings
a day spent
listlessly mingling
stolen drops of joy
in a misplaced goodbye
recollections fueled
imagery
a fortnight of
guilty pleasure
midnight passings
quick stop
tickled pink
in passing
circle me lingering
sweet subtle taste of smoke
remains

knuckle sandwich

curled smoke signals
unleash my deciphered
stubborn pleas
alight my flights
of mystery
take in
my forgotten
blank numb
lost
waving medals
in burned light
remember the night
the enclosure
wrapped in your
forgotten haze
sweet soft trails
lightly lifted hairs
at the nape
firelight in a distance
further away
under the weeping willow
you surround me
unfocused
neither pair can see
now
not in this light
doesn't matter
here

(Update! Apparently since the author of this is now dead, we can't make fun of him any more. Other than for being dead that is...!) tell me what i am

i am not a poet
i've never claimed to be
the words that crowd my thoughts before
now come so easily
a work of worth fellowshipped
defends the misconceived
of sarcastic morbid stings
intended to impede
i am not romantic
i've never claimed to be
a performance given for a friend
the light reflected off of me
an intercoital premonition of
avoidance issues pure
my facade of pornographic innocence
betrayed to wanting more
cowardly i hide behind my wall of platonicy
another hit of solitude
conforms my outward plea
i am not your hook up
i've never claimed to be
though labeled misconceptions
and subtle thoughts haunt me
my shadowed dealings and affections
confused my person with business
though an avid pastime and obsession
rarely mark my income less
a bartered deal among companions
profits more than debt
a pact shared in exclusiveness
stresses unregret
i'm no fucking genius
i've never claimed to be
tortured thoughts give way to truths
though i am far from free
perhaps enhanced attention
to what they most desire
will leave my dreams just out of reach
for it's to them that i aspire

something to impress tj:

here's an oldie that i did a while back, i lost the original but i think it's pretty close.
(by the way, the gun says "Love Me Forever And Ever...")

another ad, yo.

deja vu. or, media's whore/imagination's pimp