POEMS: THE BETTER LENS
FEEL
I feel the fire
from the stars
Inferno above
saraband
serenade
TREES
Colors that have no name
because (there are) no words
because (there are) no trees
THE HOUSE OF THE ARTISTS
I want to stroll on that street
where the artists breathe
with a different mind
a different sigh
for all time
for all life
of all different degrees
so high above
while Paris dines
under burning trees
the artists in the window room
brushstrokes in the air
poised
like a knife
diamond bright
on a day set whirl away
too laughing to see
or to care
you can see the sky
through the chainon stairs
(work in progress)
moi?
I feel the fire
from the stars
Inferno above
saraband
serenade
TREES
Colors that have no name
because (there are) no words
because (there are) no trees
THE HOUSE OF THE ARTISTS
I want to stroll on that street
where the artists breathe
with a different mind
a different sigh
for all time
for all life
of all different degrees
so high above
while Paris dines
under burning trees
the artists in the window room
brushstrokes in the air
poised
like a knife
diamond bright
on a day set whirl away
too laughing to see
or to care
you can see the sky
through the chainon stairs
(work in progress)
moi?
breathing
typing
swearing
under my shirt
a heart beats
proud of me
typing
swearing
under my shirt
a heart beats
proud of me
Now
A stunning journey begins
with the first step
left untaken
Cinema show
There’s a pain
at the heart
of the world
that can’t be beat
or pretended out
this flat earth
so fried
dupes we?
Tell me the time
pass me by please
cause I’m still trying to write
the song
you were made of earth
and fire and ice and sun
When will my heart break once
and for all time
into earth
control I need not
Life is a play of light
as long as we play
there is light
infinite
Billy Cobham
Those slashing cymbals
really commanded our attention.
like a fresh blast of secret snow
from out of the void
yay! billy C!
Abidance
The answer?
Don’t ask!
44-01
fading
into the rain walking
past ends
of lights
off the coast burning my eyes
over can’t sea
men before me
marching through squids
into the sea of life tragedy
running belligerently for eternity
for something to believe
in
I promise
this is what it's like
to dissolve in passion
of the end
of a life lived in sweet eternity
belief, singing
washed away
What's that electric yellow razor
in the sky?
sweet jesus that's a billboard
that has died
Angel
wings
thrashed forward and back
in a furious bustle
its neck is time
and art is time
music is time
before desires
the great angel suffers
for lack of serious inquiries
beak down
this glorious
of monsters
has devoured us
our TVs
our whole
world
sounds
week
Then
Nowadays all the laughter
I hear is mean laughter
What happened to the days of yore
when we starved chasing clouds across the sky
with nothing but sand in our hands
the sun one copper penny
Who were we then
who are we now
are we ever anywhere but here
chasing splintered lines
in the sand
of our mind
Night Museum
There’s a house on the hill
a museum by night
where the still light
still shines
crawling through the grass
like Christina
I pass
former breathings
a lone
museum guard appears
opens one eye
can you see me?
I don’t know how
paintings pour
Moonlight upside down
stark paper
sheets
frazzled by the bees of impressionism
we turn wailing away
INRI INRI INRI
subject all to Christ’s passing
for all time
the stone rolls over
it is not quite right
for all time
beautiful to look at
but for the face
in agony
bring on Easter
the hustle and the flow
of Renaissance creators
turn us all to sin
silent night
project room
shares
insilence with
Falstaffian halls
that tall tales tell
of fakery
done right
all
night
A stunning journey begins
with the first step
left untaken
Cinema show
There’s a pain
at the heart
of the world
that can’t be beat
or pretended out
this flat earth
so fried
dupes we?
Tell me the time
pass me by please
cause I’m still trying to write
the song
you were made of earth
and fire and ice and sun
When will my heart break once
and for all time
into earth
control I need not
Life is a play of light
as long as we play
there is light
infinite
Billy Cobham
Those slashing cymbals
really commanded our attention.
like a fresh blast of secret snow
from out of the void
yay! billy C!
Abidance
The answer?
Don’t ask!
44-
into the rain walking
past ends
of lights
off the coast burning my eyes
over can’t sea
men before me
marching through squids
into the sea of life tragedy
running belligerently for eternity
for something to believe
in
I promise
this is what it's like
to dissolve in passion
of the end
of a life lived in sweet eternity
belief, singing
washed away
What's that electric yellow razor
in the sky?
sweet jesus that's a billboard
that has died
Angel
wings
thrashed forward and back
in a furious bustle
its neck is time
and art is time
music is time
before desires
the great angel suffers
for lack of serious inquiries
beak down
this glorious
of monsters
has devoured us
our TVs
our whole
world
sounds
week
Then
Nowadays all the laughter
I hear is mean laughter
What happened to the days of yore
when we starved chasing clouds across the sky
with nothing but sand in our hands
the sun one copper penny
Who were we then
who are we now
are we ever anywhere but here
chasing splintered lines
in the sand
of our mind
Night Museum
There’s a house on the hill
a museum by night
where the still light
still shines
crawling through the grass
like Christina
I pass
former breathings
a lone
museum guard appears
opens one eye
can you see me?
I don’t know how
paintings pour
Moonlight upside down
stark paper
sheets
frazzled by the bees of impressionism
we turn wailing away
INRI INRI INRI
subject all to Christ’s passing
for all time
the stone rolls over
it is not quite right
for all time
beautiful to look at
but for the face
in agony
bring on Easter
the hustle and the flow
of Renaissance creators
turn us all to sin
silent night
project room
shares
insilence with
Falstaffian halls
that tall tales tell
of fakery
done right
all
night
obliterate the literate
with essence