Saturday, November 28, 2009

why are you now

why are you now and were not then and what shall be next or ones yet as well soon after when has been no sooner than it has will you have me as yours then if you can or will you will it?

i ask today as i shall too be as i am now yours and have the day since you came near and stayed as well as have i been ever since while still i stay yours hence as simple as simple can.

a promise is a promise and when when is here I shall still be yours and I pray you will have me then as yours as you have me today and have had ever since, my darling.

your demons are alive and well you know

your demons are alive and well you know even though you are no longer here,
i shall take them for their walk tonight as you used to back when.
don't worry, they cannot harm me for i've studied their temperaments well,
besides they no longer trouble me, they have become my beloved pets.

it is said there are no victimless crimes

it is said there are no victimless crimes
especially true of murder or hit
in the same vein present are pairs
of the others when swallowed or slit.

Thursday, November 26, 2009

tonight i shall stop my heart beating

tonight i shall stop my heart beating
starting at midnight
until dawn.

after that, i shall allow it
to resume
once again.

i hope i survive.

for i simply must know
which manner of dying
is more suitable,

beating or not.

if you would like to know the outcome
i should have results
by morning.

i will let you know somehow.

tonight i shall stop my heart beating

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

a classic g. c.

i'd rather die than see your face again

i'd rather die than see your face again,
this is what i told myself yesterday;
i should watch the things that i say
for today, i need to sharpen my dagger.

i love every section of yours

i love every section of yours,
paragraph, phrase and

or quoted,

every foot and rest,

or spread;

i adore too your endings,

hooked, banged,
dashed or dotted.

i love every section of yours,

last night my love

last night, my love,
you came home with me.

this made me glad.

this morning your hair
was a mess but obviously
you did not care

for you were
with me,
safe in my arms;

not there.

furthermore, if you stay
till thusday
i shall be thankful for that

and after, who knows,

maybe we will go have saffron rice
and grape leaves

stuffed with fresh promises
of happier times.

wouldn't you like that my love?
i would.

last night my love

if you spot the signs

if you spot the signs
of what will be at the start

when you hop or stilt walk
to the finish line,

if you have carried them
in a slit in your heart,

you may turn them in
for allotment;

your ticket
to the next hamster run.

otherwise, you loose -
off to the firing line.

if you spot the signs

Sunday, November 22, 2009

you beckon me

you beckon me,
i come.

you lead me north
and i follow.

at the arctic circle
you tell me you are lost,

i tell you it's your turn
to come with me.

we head south
arm in arm.

you beckon me

your art

your art,

silk ribbon tied
gift wrapped

expert blend
ambrosial toxin
in a box,

pearl clear
and pale

sold to gullible,
fool and braggart

pure liniment,
nostrum for tortured soul,
or broken heart;

for what is art
but certain chicane,
sleight of hand?

you intoxicate.
i don't know why i live,
given the dose i should have died.

your art

i made time appear to disappear today

i made time appear to disappear today;
in a sense i have had two days for one.
i spent one of them thinking of you
and the other thinking of you too.

Friday, November 20, 2009

your agenda is booked

your agenda is booked


when will it begin
when will it end are questioned
and answers


begin slow
queries others
mark now tomorrow


checked then
and again over twice flagged
once scored under.

your agenda is booked

Thursday, November 19, 2009

today i ride screeching storms

today i ride screeching storms
don my lion's mane
slicked severe brown and gold
long flowing cape
unfurled dark dread shaped

slice and pierce easterlies blown fast
i climb and i climb

soar over
thundering storm clouded beasts
swallow chimeras
vomit uroboros

launch lances serpent tipped
scaled tails
thorn wrapped bolts
and anvil weights

in all five oceans

crash and raise seven clawed swells
venomous milk froth white
grey blue

steel vendetta daggered shapes
sweep deadly and swift

flood mangrove coasts
break ice shelves

slash jungle tops
douse volcano flames plume white

fist pound lava planes
into parched dune deserts
salt flats sulfur bleached


and dead;

then i wade
pebbled pools
stream dip
and cool


pocket one,
a small worn stepping stone rock
smooth, slick
and dripping wet;

for you
another one for me;
this before sunrise
and our first cup of espresso (coffee).

we sit,
and play stepping stone games.

today i ride screeching storms

blue mondays i get

blue mondays i get
fridays i don't
there's a disturbance in the force.

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

if i were to carve our names on a rock

if i were to carve our names on a rock
i wonder which icons should adorn them
and if you were also to do as much
would you adorn them with the same?

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

although otherwise i cannot

although otherwise i cannot
i do in a mind's eye as much
each way each day you are not
some how you are far not
more than even here
so too there in a soul in a heart
as well in a thought
in the breeze you are as mine
as in my breath you are
as perhaps so am i in yours.

Monday, November 16, 2009

shame on me for attempting

shame on me for attempting

to describe you in words

for aren't they somewhat

hastily cast shadows of mere symbols clutched,

banded within this finite imagination of mine;


set sparse or otherwise?

oh, please do forgive me,
you certainly are not.

shame on me for attempting

Sunday, November 15, 2009

i loved you once, my love then

i loved you once, my love, then; now i love you a third more and as such i suspect when ever shall be upon us hence i shall say the same as i say now about then and too of now which should also be then by then.

my love for you my love, was and is and always shall be as the very three swaths of time are, entwined, and thus shall always be and grow in thirds till the end of all time and even then again it shall begin anew along side eternal time's coda;

time has no beginning nor ending my love; by that very same design my love for you has neither of them as well.

my love,
i loved you once,
now i love you once again
and tomorrow once more i shall.

i loved you once, my love then

here in Japan we produce

here in Japan we produce
many useful things
for all to buy
so too to enjoy.

we also make
certain others goods
for the heck of it,
just on a whim.

have you seen our
portable crosswalks
or stick'o butter pens?
you should, you'd like 'em.

tonight, i sat to write to you

tonight, i sat to write to you
once again.

though my thoughts overflowed,
not so my pen.
so it seems i shall send nothing
in the morning.

you simply should read my last letter
over again.

tonight, i sat to write to you

it is said

it is said
time does not
stop nor wait
or remain

and happiness,
when it comes,
as rain.

today, it's raining
and it seems time,
for once,
is waiting.

it may be fitting
to speak of
happiness. home
and longing.

it is said

with a lot of help from Idan Raichel's Bo'ee

if you have a minute

if you have a minute
meet me in the auditorium
of the five minute institute,
next to the brand new law school
(for a quickie, darling,).

i'll be in the back row
wearing a broad rimmed hat'n a gown,
pretending to be a catholic priest.
i'll be kneeling and praying
(and hoping you're coming).

i wonder what disguise you'll
be wearing. i hope not a nun's or something
'cause that’s a double cliché,
just think about it
(a priest and a nun f*cking - Chaucer style)!

if you have a minute

Saturday, November 14, 2009

i now know how lethal

i now know how lethal
popping pink gum
and golden corn can be
(when observed simultaneously).

while popping corn
blow pink bubbles tight
and pop'em just right,
you'll see.

but then i don't think
he could chew gum and
pop corn at once
you see.

i now know how lethal

the trouble with rope bridges

the trouble with rope bridges
is their tendency to droop
(over greater distances)

but thanks to the colorful
hot air balloon
and other such devices,

distances, grand or more meager,
have less significance now,
more so than ever.

still, those bridges,
they certainly are fairer
to the observer

as are these carpets
and such magical modes of travel
to the traveler.

the trouble with rope bridges

Friday, November 13, 2009

live for me,

live for me,
don't die for me.
i shall do
the same for you also

(my love)

and later, much later,
when forever's appeal is not
we can die together
if we choose to do so.

live for me,

"I wish I had your hair", she said

"I wish I had your hair", she said
to which i said i'd trade it all
for a single strand of hers
and then i thought (to myself)
how odd that would be,
she calico, me bald
save one strand of gold.

"I wish I had your hair", she said

my love, you take care

my love, you take care
of yourself there
and here, i'll take care
of the rest.

but remember,
if you don't, what i do here
will amount to little
at best.

don't do this for me,
do it selfishly.
live each of your days
with deliberate care.

my love, you take care

Thursday, November 12, 2009

i woke up early today

i woke up early today
and you were gone.
in your note
you wrote you were out helping
a suicidal one.

i was terrified.
then you called me
to tell me
that she was simply dying
to see you today.

i woke up early today

tonight i'm afraid

tonight i'm afraid
i will lose sight of you once again
for the eighth or ninth time,

i lost count.

this time i suspect
it will be forever
as i can find no sway.

i veer away

to my safe harbor
for i am fresh out of stock
and the essentials for living,

we are all dying here.

but remember, i shall wait for you
confident of your fix
as to where i winter; disguised

and shrouded in obscurity.

unlike times past it will be
your charge to find me hence
where in silence i stay


to my memories of you
and those of you
with me.

fair winds to you.

tonight i'm afraid

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

my devices are simple

my devices are simple
and simple they will stay;
at the end of the day
they are but one
- and not one.

i set off today to being to begin

i set off today to begin to begin
as i do these days each day
in the beginning;

tonight i will tell you if i actually begun
or if once again tomorrow i will attempt
to begin to begin.

i set off today to being to begin

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

all day today i practiced playing this song

all day today i practiced playing this song.
here i am tonight below your balcony
(my love) and you are not even home!

if this was back then, after i arrived

if this was back then, after i arrived
i would simply pretend that
i had lost my return fair
and thus, i would stay there
with you indefinitely.

i cannot do this anymore. oh, how much i hate
these f*cking new e-tickets.

Monday, November 9, 2009

i tried to write the story

i tried to write the story
in which the two of us
never meet.

i could not write a single
word of it.

not retained attained

not retained attained


never so tenderly


contained lest willfully


forever an amusingly quaint


scorchingly rarer still


ever now seemingly


not retained attained

Saturday, November 7, 2009

your letter arrived today

your letter arrived today
my love.

i should tell you i have decided
to read all your letters in thirds,
every other day.

this way they should last me six
and on the seventh day, as they say,
i shall rest (thinking of you).

so, i write you now having only
read a third of what you had to say;
i must say i am pleased (today).

your stay, at the hotel by the bay
(a well deserved rest, if i may),
is the best remedy for what ails you.

the day after tomorrow, after i have
read the subsequent third of the way,
again, i shall write you

but for now the letter is back
in the envelope which you so lovingly
sealed (with lips i adore) yesterday.

there it shall stay
until monday my love,
until monday.

your letter arrived today

Friday, November 6, 2009

if i do not write

if i do not write
you do not write.

if i don't hear from you
i cannot sleep.

i am terribly tired now
maybe we should mind read.

if i do not write

Thursday, November 5, 2009

losing track redux

you come in close to the shore

adrift on the tide

half-in half-out of the water;

the moon I watch sinks down

into the fog

and in the gasp of that moment

the tide swings you back

away from me;

i know i've been alone all along

when fresh growths of dying dreams

take root

soon after you've swung back.

based on Denise Levertov's Losing Track

all nearness pauses,while a star can grow

all nearness pauses,while a star can grow

all distance breathes a final dream of bells;
perfectly outlined against afterglow
are all amazing and the peaceful hills

(not where not here but neither's blue most both)

and history immeasurably is
wealthier by a single sweet day's death:
as not imagined secrecies comprise

goldenly huge whole the upfloating moon.

Times a strange fellow;
more he gives than takes
(and he takes all)nor any marvel finds
quite disappearance but some keener makes
—love! if a world ends

more than all worlds begin to(see?)begin

all nearness pauses,while a star can grow
~ e e cummings ~

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

arrogant rhymes cunt wiley sly runt

yes true,

arrogant rhymes cunt wiley sly runt well too mock'n rock if you care cock if you don't then sure say slip'em in or through crevices bare barren slashes no cunts in their stead as well

drôle. not of mine, of yours.

this, what with my disposition this day. pray say yours
- alternatively just pray, i suppose.

... shadow me

... shadow me


the ambiguous


certain strides


commas remember


divergent ways


some collide


lightly punctuated


lovingly so

still ...

... shadow me

Sunday, November 1, 2009

why do beginnings have ends

why do beginnings have ends
but endings less final?
if endings had ends or better
beginnings were all,
could there be stories,
would there be worries?
thus worries would end
but stories would stall,
and without stories (or worries)
there'd be nothing at all
i suppose.

why do beginnings have ends
~ NoxAlio ~


yes, ings slide
and ians glide
but uns as ims,
as you know,
ordinarily thud.

the trouble with packing

the trouble with packing
is the eventual unpacking i suppose
for departures reek arrivals,
one way or returning.