This is why Plato kicked us out. Inside this five windowed cave I can’t help but think about it. This is why. My idea, with her snaky hair, looking for a people but finds only statues in their place. Solid. Made solid. My idea, she wants to see her face. Made solid. Tears of stone. [...]
Posts Tagged ‘Poetry’
Once Removed
Posted in Free Verse, Poetry, tagged Cave, Plato, Poet, Poetry, Sense on June 17, 2011 | 2 Comments »
A Poem In Silence
Posted in Poetry, tagged inspiration, muse, Poetry, Silence, sound, Woman on January 11, 2010 | 6 Comments »
She appraises herself in silence and laughs when I touch her. What stops your tongue? From tasting, from twirling? Ears are gluttonous and cannot be sated. Don’t cork them with silence. Caress them with soft tyranny, lick them with your wishes, fill them with your dreams to make reality. A list or a catalog. Alphabetical [...]
Pirate Music
Posted in Poetry, tagged honesty, music, Poetry on September 1, 2009 | 2 Comments »
He said your poetry gives you away. He is more honest that me That is why he says so. Sometimes it tells me who I am today, or was yesterday, and sometimes I just sit in my room and pirate music.
Counting Leaves
Posted in Poetry, tagged counting, leaves, Memory, Nature, Poetry, the mind, the self, writing on August 23, 2009 | 3 Comments »
202… 203… 204 bright green made separate by light cracking through. A silent shore brings a breeze and I watch one fall. A green ambassador from a heaven slightly out of reach. Did I already count this angel or was he yet unknown? I watch him hit the sand. I bless him in his graceful [...]
Stockholm Syndrom
Posted in Didactic, Poetry, tagged captive, greatness, Love, Lust, muse, Poetry, writing on September 15, 2008 | Leave a Comment »
Inspiration is back to steal and reveal I hope my hands don’t fail my eyes or the heart they inform because the brain they conceal Doesn’t trust our conclusions. It can’t know what they know. First Impressions are back. familiar things are new as if more real than real words made material A girl’s hair, [...]
Nitty Gritty
Posted in Poetry, tagged Creation, destruction, honesty, Poetry, reality, selfhood, truth on September 13, 2008 | Leave a Comment »
I I have never felt a baby kick I know only my mother tongue I have never lost a loved one to tuberculosis nor a nation to exile nor my life to myself. I have lost faith to philosophy only to arrive at a new faith. My generation has never been tyrannized or oppressed – [...]
Our Myth Part I
Posted in Didactic, myth, tagged Egoism, Humanity, Justification, Language, Modernity, myth, nakedness, philosophy, Poetry, sophistry, truth on August 27, 2008 | 7 Comments »
The unfortunate truth for those who hide themselves behind ration relativism is that what they are really looking for is justification, for ethical orders, for a completely irrefutable fact amidst a sea of turmoil – they are looking for truth. Oh sure, like the sophist they can speak around this issue but they cannot hide [...]
A Face in the Fire
Posted in Poetry, tagged camp-fire, Poetry on July 13, 2008 | Leave a Comment »
I see his face in the fire burning, burning burning, she sees him too she says he’s screaming, screaming I am envious of his consumption his assumption the bright brillaint removal of his place in the world. The crowd gathered sips alcohol and dances forgetting the man, not knowing the man upsetting, enraging, pitiful but [...]
The Funeral Games
Posted in Eulogy, Poetry, tagged comedy, death, life, pain, perception, poems, Poetry, Spartan, truth on May 6, 2008 | Leave a Comment »
Nature knew I would later write about her in the context of some Mercurial poem – One that before collecting some dust just barely missed the trash barrel that had collected the more ill-formed siblings. It’s a rather Spartan practice I suppose to dash such children against the rocks. It wasn’t their fault their feet were [...]
Belle Noir
Posted in Didactic, Poetry, tagged death, Desire, History, Love, Lust, Poetry on May 2, 2008 | 1 Comment »
Iris MacDuffin, a peacock butterfly, with eyes like cigarette burns which reflect her chiaroscuro – the complimentary schism that divides her, was so much more than a white whale. Though often her pale skin made her a shadow’s double walker, like some gothic non-being or even worse a once-was. Of all the places for her [...]
