The stream (all workshops)
Stars make everything, do they not?
As they never die, they forever live to
create cusps in time with their glitter-
exploding silently, just for a moment’s sake.
From staring contests to unseen phenomena,
the stars shoot through flesh
to bring forth frisson, and whatever else
has been missing.
Together, galaxies intersect internally
and become a wondrous monogamy
through one, sudden burst-
Stars do make everything.
The prairie grass sways in rhythm
As the cowboy starts another day,
Sun's first rays light the morning
While the horses start to bray.
Coffee and biscuits on the campfire
Those pancakes piled inches high,
Cookie yells "come and get 'er"
Who says cowboys cannot fly?
Worn jeans and shirts with patches
Hats to shade their weathered face,
Dusty boots with spurs that jingle
Chaps adorned with rawhide lace.
I sit down and realize I'm getting lost in a mirror.I guess I'm the mirror myself.
You talk to me and I answer to you. You don't remember me and I forget about your whole existence.
Everything becomes, easily, blurry memories. I'm afraid I'm a burden to those around me. But, at the same time the whole world is a burden to me. I don't know what to believe anymore.
Even my thoughts seem to be given instructions. I want to touch you, but I'm afraid I'll become a mirror again. That you will realize that too And you will be afraid of your own reflection.
Locked in the basement
There’s a dying bird in the basement-
Yet I’m far too tired to go down and chase it.
This corvid has followed me since I was a child,
I admit that I fed it, unaware that it was wild.
Like a thick black blanket — all of these crows
They stood like Gargoyles, over my childhood home.
Love love love
All my problems spawn from it
My troubles, pains and fears
Love is the denominator
To love a dominator
Is to weep without tears
“You do it to yourself”
Blah blah.. shudder
A fleeting glance
A playful smirk
And my heart begins to flutter
All it takes is to pave the cracks
The fracture thats been there all my life
In my core, pumping out poisoned blood
Blood I can’t let with a knife
Why choose to love still?
You ask
Why should I try?
Because love is who I am
Your eyes are the same colors as Claude Monet’s “Water Lilies”— did anyone ever tell you that?
Don’t ask me to tell you anything about the painting, I’m not a fucking art history major (I’m not pretentious enough).
But the blues and greens— I swear Monet used your eyes as a palette.
Did anyone tell you your smile was crafted by Picasso?
I know he painted in abstracts, that explains the slight crook of your smile.
I know you don’t like your smile much,
But I’ve always loved Picasso.
If in fact such a female and/or male exists
an insufferable existence clamors for surcease
against riptide of ineradicable anguish.
Living hand to mouth
for majority of mein kampf
(elle ex vee orbitz
roam'n around the nearest star)
punctuated with disequilibrium,
a comma date ting me
with penury and perdition.
the whales come in from the ocean
and a man pushes in on the queue
I glared cause we’d waited in line
don’t know if he’d given his time
Whale stranding is a natural thing
sometimes you can tow them out to sea
Whales don’t watch tv
A pod will follow a whale in trouble
17 thousand eight hundred and fifty
stranded cetaceans in UK last year
housing the homeless, feeding the poor
we fondled our thoughts and watched suits on the tv that night
euthanasing whales is a hard decision
so I took my dog for a walk
I wish I was imagining
But loving someone your whole life
Is nothing but an unending sorrow
A shattered illusion of happiness
A reminder of what could've been
But never was
A headache that never fades
A fractured mirror reflecting shards of a fractured heart
A fading memory slipping away
like sand through an open hand
A rain-soaked street reflecting tears shed in the darkness
A forgotten chapter lost in the pages of a story left untold
A fading heartbeat echoing in the silence of a lonely room
Having sex I didn’t want
With someone I no longer love
I turn my face away
So he won’t see the tear drops
Trying to escape my eyes.
I make the moves and sounds he needs
To think we’re still a couple
But in the hollow of my heart
I know that he’s a little boy
And I can’t be his mother.
ljm
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