Monday, January 16, 2012

january 16th, 2012

Here's another new one, a quick Sunday night/Monday morning cut-up.

leaning out on the edge

The spiraling roar of a miracle

tears through curtains of porcelain doubt

like a golden comet

shot through tattered lace.

The whirling spasm of ingenuity,

when caged

and tagged for future research,

crushes a lifetime of groans in a




Life is a relay race

and the only thing that matters

is whether or not

you’re holding the baton.

Sunday, January 15, 2012

january 15th, 2012

Here's a random piece of prose I found written in a legal pad. I'm sure it's the result of a late night, but it's not bad.

top five

People make lists because they are physical, organized manifestations of interests and disinterests we consider “real”. Lists provide validation, state opinions and etch trivial decisions onto paper, cementing a thought, albeit momentary, into the sidewalk of a chosen surface. They act as handprints in the sidewalk, and when put into perspective, affect nothing equally. Like most activities, lists attempt to solidify the invisible.

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

january 11th, 2012

throw him a curveball is featured on Young American Poets blog today, which is very nice of them. the heavy musk of masochism and keep it simple previously appeared in late 2011.

I haven't posted new work in a while, so here are two poems for you to enjoy.

can't you hear me knockin'?

Before I could react to the knocking
it was gone.
A few modest pounds
followed by sustained silence.
The kind of silence that permeates through an auditorium
hours before an orchestra takes stage.
Hauntingly inspirational,
yet suspiciously dormant.

Before I could answer the door
the knocking was gone,
and I was left standing
like a fool in the rain.

los feliz

Now we live together.
Just like that.
Seems like, well, at most a year ago
when we first walked toward each other,
awkwardly closing the cement gap with wobbly legs.
Sure as hell doesn't feel like four years.

Now we live together
and we're 25 years-old,
merely skimming the surface of potentiality,
meticulously chipping away at the tip of the iceberg.
A subdued smirk sprouts above my chin
because I have seen the ocean floor
and the massive frozen base.
I have seen what we are capable of
and fully intend to capture it,
ensuring we are there to witness it blossom.
Others are free to watch,
for they will always remember the couple
who unleashed what they could not.

Now we live together
and it's easy.
The vinyl is continually spinning
and the art comes in spurts,
always returning moments before you swear it's gone for good.