Thursday, September 30, 2010

justwrite 30 september

thinking about withdrawing not calling out any cash or whipping out any lash just drifting about a bit to wit elsewhere not a saint or an album not a martyr or an eight-track just a counterfeit reaction putting the self in traction and letting it ride a while there’s no smile ready and waiting there’s no carbon in that tree for dating and if you’re going to erase you need to be gentle it’ll take a fine-toothed comb to keep at home everything that means identify and to brush away the rest it’s a test coming unmeshed and it feels like I’m not dressed in the right way there’s a free plan but I haven’t got a strategy a dependent calamity I left the wrong book in the right place and I’ve got no face to stand on just wasting time and rhyming dimes into petty crimes I’d apologize but who to and it’s no use true or false to call us out ourselves each other there are brothers and sisters and missus and mister are down along the sidewalk keeping up that chalk talk weighing up the scores and what’s more colleges and knowledge is the only way to have some leverage if feelings were so healing then why

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

justwrite 29 september

imagine losing the cruising altitude you’ve screwed up the lightbulb and it’s not working it’s dark and the curtain comes down too early the sunlight is caught out there and in here we thought we were working toward morning but instead there’s a u and it’s mourning the truth instead of teaching the youth we want to be everyone’s friends we intend to defend our pretend pretenses until the end the statements have been taken and the fine lines mistaken for boundaries we’ve hounded these and other tenses over to the other side of the fences and if I were the police if I were released in a catch and go program I would run I would sun myself in the forest and I would climb trees waiting for the others to appear I would steer clear of suggestions I would make my own directions wishing to be a fish but not eaten wishing to be a bird but with feathers that fade into sky not the kind that mind being blurred into the natural world we’ve hurled our suggestions back into the box and we’re clocking in punching our time cards with glasses full of red juice and other kinds of doublemeant words we’ve heard of herds and we don’t want to join them we’re prepared to annoy them and to listen to what else ought to be said if there’s a revolution I’d want to be prepared instead of stupid looping backward over the river and through the woods back again to paper the mistakes traced all along the contours exploring other options if you don’t want to be with me then I don’t want to be with you if you will read a different book then I cannot be the author if you and if I but we and not and there’s a trot to be foxed out of that sort of a strategy we are wiping away a few layers and there’s dust but the trust is rusting and I’m feeling thinner despite extra dinners and lunches and punches in the dark I cannot park for too long without realizing I’m not moving and wondering where the map went and realizing the dent in the side is inside

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

justwrite 28 september

somedays creating is better than waiting I have three fishes drawn I am calling for more colors but the rain comes down we cannot frown quietly but the nose keeps running away with the last word the herd the storm the normal ideas don’t apply and the cry goes out across the town the land the sound the sand the fury hurries through the shortcuts but I can’t catch up the beans won’t boil and the spoiling of the bread instead of the tomato says something about what we’re made o’ we’re seeking vitamin c and we take some doses we give ourselves neuroses and we congratulate diagnoses of the successful sort the internet can’t get enough of these symptoms we are the doctors and we are impatient patients give us answers and starve the listeners the glistening hope a rope pulled too fast to grab onto and up into the air twirling about to perform perhaps or maybe to collapse in a circuslike spike of energy the emotion we’re devoted to seeking keeping us on the edge of our soles our feet peeking around the next corner through the dirt and over the clouds the unexplored just stored up waiting for us the jeans I bought the holes all wrought with heels but the steal of a price and the waist just right so much for that button so much for the rest I cannot write and pass such tests at the same time I’m feeling fine except the sneezing’s without reason and I cannot abide such treason from my own body I’m not asking for much just total support at every minute and obedience through and deliverance from a hundred actions per second the wrecks so infrequent but so disappointing give me everything I say to my nose and my ears but how can they hear my sighs as I reach for some relief wondering where in the dark I’ve parked such a remedy stifling meditation the aggravation of losing control falling into the fold and unable to lead the charge away the successful straying back toward a pillow a weeping willow walkway along toward the road a river or a lake exploding from imagined maps into reality and suddenly it’s a circle the shortcut isn’t long and I’ve come to where I started having departed into pieces

justwrite 27 september

once the lights go down we will turn around in our seats and stick our feet in the air it's so hard to care so much when you let go the wind shows just how light you've become underdone spun like a top and dripped like a drop first easy like honey but now runny finding a grounded puddle on a hot day read to drift away clear into the atmosphere when what you fear is allowed to be aloud and it makes itself true you give up that power that hurry to worry earlier than necessary not primary or tertiary in concern at all you call your own shots but just see what you've bought reading the receipt you know you've already paid and at that price it's weighed out in gold we are too old to fool ourselves we are young enough to bluff others fashionably well but the spell is checked and the scene is wrecked by an absurd herd of rhyming words crowding around in idiosyncrasies freezing cubes from ice and spicing up the tea we are free and the water is boiling but what you'll brew is up to you and as for me i guess i'd rather walk

Sunday, September 26, 2010

justwrite 26 september

accessing the treatment means that statistics come alive we are trying to survive the arrival of new challenges we are the civil society we fight the epidemic we listen to videos and we watch the music there's truth it is listening to itself and our health is improving we are using the right notes we are playing the keys we freeze eyes into smiles the diseases the trials the success we are testing solidarity and i cannot listen to one thing and write about another the internet is getting out of hand and into space the continuum of diminshing returns earns no interest we are out of words to say the players have forgotten their lines and the dimes spin around into circles fast enough they look like nickels we are making pickles but we can't tell their secrets before the jars are closed we are exposed floating in juice and confusion we are waiting for the illusions to fall away and to call into question the lessons of the day the week all those years we have fears and we feed them to ourselves we imagine our healths will get better and we pluralize the wrong words with absurd letters we are unfettered and content we meant to say something else but we have not enough space to retrace the letters and this is all we have the energy for now we have watched the film and we have applauded

Saturday, September 25, 2010

justwrite 25 september

wait a minute and if the train doesn’t come we can run the whole way there my hair is still wet but get moving and the wind will do the rest there’s no test to pass but I don’t want to fail I can flail easily in the open I am riding a horse with no saddle and I paddle in and out of the canoe the trueblue currents rushing along the side no place to hide in open water and I drop down in to sink to swim and other thoughts like rocks like clouds pressing loud and soft into the pillows the sheets bouncing backward up so many parachutes and so many four-square balls the gym teacher hauls them out of a musty closet and tosses them into the center we are pumping our arms and we are storming in and out of tantrums brought on by this pressure to measure up but still no rush no fuss toward fitness and mile lap times we are still in our prime but we never recognize it we prize the next step the past page and the current age is left wanting and wondering if the blundering will lead to anything if the past has been worth living and we know it has we grab each other’s hands to say thank you pull each other close even as tears fall we call forward for reassurance and backward for the colors we painted we have no numbers of our own but this is too close I cannot keep on I have got another song to sing looking out the window the wideawake eyes disguised by twilight the building across the courtyard is looking hard at me just to check in the kitchens are finished serving and the dishes are just about washed they have tossed their laundry into the middle of the living room where the laundry means the day and they play their own games jeans into the air and sweaters thrown upward just to recreate the actions the attractions that brought them all together and every once in the middle of a story a while passes and the silence is easy but they look across at me just to be sure and yes I am here yes I am taking notes and they tell me their hopes in secret asides the stage whispers the internal monologues packaged with my name in their eyes and I am surprised and I am thankful and I unwrap them and for now it is enough and so it must be

Friday, September 24, 2010

justwrite 24 september

let’s take turns earning the right to moonlight in disappointment but in the meantime it’s just fine to walk outside to take a ride on the sky by which this means ferris wheel there’s a feel and a way and the right to say what we mean and it’s a clean and trusted prize we’ve won we’ve given each other but did you notice the raisins in this bread there are so many on the bus I had a seat and again also my hair felt good in the new shampoo the mango gardenia growing like mother mary letting it be with silver bells and golden hoops with hula troops coming in from an island that I had thought was American but a gerry can of hot water featured in yesterday’s story and I wonder if these glories are passed along to me as features of concern or have I really earned such attention it’s a dimension past the third and while I’ve heard of reality I can’t say it’s always the dreamiest if we skipped over the cryinger parts we’d miss nothing worth reporting to an outside audience but a preponderance of facts still remain to be weighed to be sorted into distorted proportions and today I gave the peppers away and also tomatoes except for the squishy ones and this will lead to so much fun for the mushroom hunters the gatherers the stutterers of schedules if we’re late for one we’re early for the next the text punctuated by german stereotypes and bank accounts unbalanced but meaning well it’s swell enough to be invited to a screening but the meanings aren’t quite clear and who knows if we shall hear something worth repeating the meeting of the mines and the yours and we have needs and you ought to have a doughnut and I know you don’t want it now and I hope the table has a greater yield a cross-country field shielding us from the finish line we can’t define our edges when we’re already meshed and the stress in the unfolding the origami cranes changing names and seasons the reasons don’t matter but the feelings do and it’s true I’ll drink a lot of tea and read a lot of history before I think about the future but will we be reading the same book will we cook what we’re looking for or just keep hopping shopping on one foot with no clean laundry or daily schedule we need some lists which we can’t resist making but let’s pay them off with action the attraction in that smile is worth miles before I sleep but no little horse can make Robert frost clearer than that light you turn right back to me we will sleep and keep counsel and in our dreams we will find rest

justwrite 23 september

wait for the mail to come the sum to be paid in full without distraction no additional subtraction I have registered my letter I am not a forgetter and I will tell you when it arrives I have been trying to fry this egg without heat you meet yourself in this mirror and you stare down the floor more solid than confrontation it doesn’t need to seem mean but it’s a mainstream theme to see it that way let’s play different parts let’s let out our hearts and let down our hair we care too much to disregard but I’d rather discard rejection I’d draw up protection in the form of another normalcy a new deal if you will but if there was more to give I would and it’s hard to say at this stage the next page is turning and I’m burning with queasy freezes the chill of disgust crushing my stride breaking my pride and security the certainty flooding out and doubt rushing in to sink to swim to whimper while wandering I’m still wondering after words it’s absurd to say such lines but hard to find a finer way if today or tomorrow are any sign what’s mine can’t be divided and you’re already decided I am waiting to write about something else a return to health for these withered lines twining new vines in invisible patience and waiting for their chance

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

justwrite 22 september

now I am making a speech I see my words reaching the audience I wonder I pause there is no applause no laughter there is a reaction I’m not attracted to but still I keep speaking maybe it’s a dream but the themes seem relevant recently I find dreaming seeming to lean closer to reality and the now steps off talks back and wanders farther off the track toward elsewhere but not the sainted album not a problem I’ve already solve but a corner I thought I might not have to turn I had planned to earn something future from this spending of the past and I mean this in a classy sense not recompense but future tense in a hopeful way but the play’s acts were lost track of passively it seems now to me and I’ve got to remember all the negatives so that they get developed it’s hard to tell it’s easier to smell and the situation could turn frantic it’s much less romantic or maybe more from a different angle but I’m not trying for geometry just diplomacy and sense and I’d like something workable like clay but the kind that stays when you stick it not baked but fixed a little and if there needs to be a push if you shush the silence all you create is noise if you’re playing alone you might want some toys or some plans or at least a good window I am tired and scared and unprepared but this is just the surface and I have eaten pizza and done some confessing it’s just now that I’m stressing let’s say ten times a day to think about and to wander out of the right space to a darker place to assess to test is there something next or less of the same is there a drain or a pipe coming up and how to get out of this mode where the explosions turn into navel-gazing phrasing when here I could get clear of this steerage and plant something worth growing now I am throwing out the trash now I am recycling now I am building now there are other verbs I’m going to have to use but the truth is I probably know them the truth is I can easily show them off in any sort of scene and I mean I am not a fool even when I act like them I’m only a little of that sort of dumb and I deserve maybe not to be served but to pick what I’ll be eating what greetings to exchange what meetings to be made and I will set the parameters measure the diameter of my confidence the preponderance of things to say and those to be kept in I will sink and I will swim and I will lay my motives down I will wear a crown of applesauce and I will toss the keys into the river there are other things to be done but these will start the departure open the aperture and let the light in press and expose and see what develops

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

post 21 september

justwrite 21 september

waiting for transcription we are checking our prescriptions and making the digits are added up right we fight ourselves in line finding faults in receipts not yet printed there’s a dime not yet minted that will be worth nine cents but if you find it it’s yours to mine it’s a fine chime on a clock you didn’t wind nobody wanted everyone was daunted and other such sounds there are rounds and rewards and the score isn’t being kept the chasm isn’t being leapt over much these days there’s too much close studying and hustle-bustling we cannot dance without the right music we cannot have what we want when we choose it we are hoping for an opening in the spacetime continuum a rift through which to drift and to arrive in style miles to go before we sleep before we keep our own counsel for now I am dispensing without mentioning a price and it’d be nice if it could keep up but I have to drink from my own cup too and it’s truly somewhat limited without more ingredients I’d prefer it be expedient by which I mean a solution the truth in its own retelling the flower aware of its own smelling and deciding it is good
kissing the sun sounds like a horrible idea when you think about it but when you don’t think about it you notice how shiny the sun is and really how hot it is in general and how bright you look when standing next to it bathed embraced in golden rays you are warmer and you can see your way clearly and it’s hardly surprising when down the horizon the timeline you suddenly find yourself kissing the sun you have undone restrictions you thought you had kept and you find it’s so hot but by this time you’re caught and everything else seems dark in comparison the fun in the park the sparks straggling behind the distractions the nations you find they’re not united facing a lack of connection with respect you check the box and unlock the clock trading tick for tock and not what you thought you’d bought

justwrite 20 september

let us begin to desist to resist no more the darkest possibility the dawning of tranquility which is to mean twilight but when the lights go down the frown turns itself and melts into cloudpuddles dreams spreading scattered all over the patterned linoleum I have allergies and the freezing relations must overcome hesitation and get done we have strung the guitars long enough and we hear all the songs we have written are smitten with our own fairy tale deeply meant and deeply felt a well springing but the rain bringing a change in direction a new not correction but maybe recognition and it’s a different mission now I’d say we’d play different parts if we knew the right lines but the script we’ve been holding had tried to fill in and we’d hoped it’d hold but the conditional tense is getting old and I am afraid to be afraid of what-if and I am scared of giving in to giving up but it’s a different menu and the truth is there might be nothing else to order once the dishes are stacked in the back the display case features around-around trays gleaming with space with all the cakes taken and maybe the hunger’s mistaken but my mouth and I seem empty

justwrite 19 september

I am planning to scan a different horizon the one in the distance upcoming and not the one becoming golden glazed with haze remember when everything was perfect no there wasn’t remember dozens of plans and thriftmade mugs chugging along in the writing of a new time yours and mine we combine the grains and we listen to refrains craning our necks and imagining what’s next even as our lips keep moving it’s true that I’m brewing a different kind of tea to drink in another case there’s a face I haven’t seen differently giving me a backward glance but what kind of chance can we offer ourselves I am staying well out of harm’s way but it’s an arm away in length the tank is full of thanks and the word please tastes bitter but better than forgetting we are imagining forgiving even as we dream of fear we free our ears to newer songs but the chords sound wrong hard to sing along until we learn the words imagining absurd letters and numbers shuffled together making change with our tongues

Friday, September 17, 2010

justwrite 17 september

it’s an unplanned scandal that finds itself with insufficient air time it’s just fine to promise a clean face but if you’ve erased all the pictures then there’s nothing to curl up with there’s a Tupperware full of cookie crumbs and a numb wondering about something on the to-do list that just missed getting done I’ve unstrung the beads and followed up on the leads that were sent in the welcome packet but I’ve only made a racket and I haven’t played tennis in lots of months remember in the park in the dark and we could walk home there were bugs and mudpuddles and wet courts but it doesn’t matter if you avoid the car lights the high brights of summer weaving in and out of latenight movies we truly ran right through those we didn’t stop and also we did having hidden the clock and eaten the time for lunch we bunched our flowers together and handed them to each other we are given so little and we make so much there is touch and there is hope we make ropes to swing across and sometimes these ropes are words sometimes absurdly cold waters to swim in forbiddenly I have songs to sing of these and other things but for now they’re sort of choppy I am adopting a wait and see attitude a crude way of saying I can’t get it together I can’t make the weather do what it won’t and I can’t sail a ship that doesn’t float we have dug holes in the bottom ready to plant seeds but forgetting we need to reach land first and now it’s hand over fist bailing out and swimming and winning some kind of race to chase emptiness with something full feeling if not fulfilling I am willing success I am writing tests I know I can pass I am trashing the leftovers and then remembering to compost we have hosted these ideas we have tossed them saladlike into the freeway and we will pick them up at our own risk I am dashing like salt but faster and less just the best way to go is to know what you’ll sow will be reaped and to keep hoping for the best keep arresting the wrong thoughts and imagining you’ve bought the perfect ingredients and what you’re cooking will turn out to be delicious no matter who else is in the kitchen

Thursday, September 16, 2010

justwrite 16 september

let’s be hopeful there’s no nope fools aren’t allowed we’ve trousered our way up the food chain and now we can eat grass our crass answers aren’t appreciated and our money’s rising up there’s a percentage of increase defeating the delay in exchange and if you can rearrange the numbers to blunder through math you’ve got a cash cow worth milking no bilking such arrangements estrangement seems impossible even if the reasons are more than inaudible I want to know everything I don’t want to break I will bend I often pretend but to hear the ripping that’s torn it say the british idioms but dum de dumber thumbs have been stuck in this pie and I’ll cry out loud proudly before I start adopting such hops the barley a brand-name away and with this I’ll say hey remember I wrote earlier let’s unfurl those letters here clearly this is a day no pigs will die tomorrow who can tell I’ve got to get the light fixed in the toilet and to say it right a bright idea indeed or embarrassment unneeded heading my way///

noisy silence knocks us off our feet and into the street we are listening eagerly we are taking our time and donating it to worthy causes hoping for applause but the best we can do is a tied shoe and no-tripping success the best-cooked dinner sometimes makes you thinner when you’re dining alone returning to the zone of quiet hard to hide it on a cloudy day the gray can stay but not the cold the bow won’t keep but the knot will hold we have told the rest we passed the test but the marks are not yet posted and the party to be hosted is still in need of cleaning leaning on a white-washed wall and standing straight again with a quick scan revealing a white tan on dark clothes so the saying goes and the feeling slows to a nearer mirror and we wonder how that all came about

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

justwrite 15 september

no it’s not boring my eyes are open but the flow is interrupted by my shoulders caving in on themselves into the window and out down three stories and to the ground ready to sink into the comfort of cool mud suddenly much warmer than reality there are answers there too and none of them need to be read right now let’s table this let’s floor that let’s scatter our rosebuds our seeds our needs and press them all into some other use some distant cabinet the neighbors thought they threw out here sitting in the corner of the living room giving room to so many hopeful shelfsitters the books the critters and the pieces ready to be displayed and just waiting for the day so it comes flung gently along like a song into the hallway the corridor and what’s more the super doesn’t see unlike the tv she had to investigate and that’s great but it’s late and part of this is not true part of this is see-through I have written five minutes two times already today once with teachers and once with students and students are ready to share and teachers are ready to listen to themselves this is a curse and I suffer it too this is unrehearsable and when the truth comes through I can’t help but read it and I need it to be set aside in some farther cabinet I cannot cope with dropping off hope on the sidewalk it keeps me warm my toes and ears the storms come you know and no snow could weigh me down so much

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

justwrite 14 september

let’s take a few minutes to subtract to counteract the attraction of addition just listen I’m telling you we’re shelling new peas and the trees are still green although fall is coming although bees are humming songs turning browner toward molasses the cooling hitting a snag dragging in extra degrees turning off the freeze and suggesting shoulders and sandals and it’s hard to handle the offturning onputting waking up in the morning frozen by dreams of darker days and huddling into layers only to face a race won by sun and no one’s disappointed it’s pressing back the missing the thinking the drinking in deep revelations this is the state of the nation and it is not united these are my shoes and they are untied I have tried to find jeans and all I find are sweaters I have found two shirts and a tank top and also a belt but I felt certain today would be the way would play into view the truth out there and into a shopping bag but instead beets and uncertain carrots and yes vladik that is sour cream with the whining and the unfine time had waiting in line no one wants to be patient no one is quite complacent there’s a paved paradise under that parking lot barking to be bought at a higher price but tonight I’m going to bed early and the Russian revolution will continue tonight there are games being played on other screens but I’m turning them off tonight let’s face the onions crying I am trying to fry that stir I am trying to take that cake and bake it and once I’m through you have got to see where I am because then you can tell me you can fell me like a tree if you’ve got the recipe or a small tortoise without a name and a fuzzy owl with quite the same deal it’s the real thing but it’s not coke it’s not to sneeze at woody allen style it’s a mild form of hypnosis I think I can I know I will I am just fine and all goes well with occasional swells and the realizations set in but in the meantime just swim say the fishies and we do all day in the sand in the sun of a thousand remembered stories the ones our parents read and the ones we tell ourselves in sickness and in health and as the sun goes down

Monday, September 13, 2010

justwrite 13 september

in an attempt to climb the pullcord without turning on the light I am bright on my feet and I am clinging only to the air around me spacing out my atoms so as not to alarm anyone I am having fun at my own expense and when the night comes the lumbering jacks shatter open the evening and pull me underground I have found my hands grow heavy I have felt my shoulders tighten the nightly news the useful details fail occasionally and there is no catching up we buckle our shoes in toes but sometimes we wear them alone sometimes the zone is untraceable sometimes the eyes are unlaceable we have systems and they have errors I am putting in the data you’ve delivered but it does not compute does only dispute your conclusion this is invalid this is a fallacy he cannot wrap his mind around it and the same is true for me I cannot wrap my mild interpretation around such a state the fascination the poking at the wound the need to lean in closer to look to book a cruise of black-and-blue meandering we wander into these low lowlands the universe expands but not Brooklyn the biscuits are aflame but not cooking I made those tiretracks I collapsed my hands above the roof and dove there were explosions but neither were they in the sky nor the high-topper mountain of a memorized fairy tale the island of the blue the sky of green and mermaid scenes take everyone away captain jack and there was no chance twenty and three and nothing more could the lady on the land offer this is my song and when I was eight and twelve and fancied myself quite mysterious this was the tale the crew told to me and it comes true and away in the watery swirl so often misinterpreted the syllables rearranged the meaning changed we have lain down and we rise up again there is no time for what there ought to be thoughts about but the doubts are turned aside we cannot hide from the answers in our own mouths but we turn south and east and west again the can of worms is open and it’s the same view the phone rings and the pleasure it brings the inbox the rocks in my socks as I walk around touching not the ground but building some unknown reality where the givens have fallen away and nothing green can stay

Sunday, September 12, 2010

justwrite 12 september

remember to send thank-you notes you wrote your heart out when you started out and once the flurry has settled the snow will be deep so keep in mind the roughly defined plan that scandalized a nation saved frustration from its own reward we keep sorting out the channels and sleeping in late there is no date no appointment no conjoined disjointment ready to be misheard we are swallowing wallowing and pushing through toward rewards I am stormy I am weather and not quite clear the sky the fear the day the cheer I am needing more sleep and I keep eating it up baking cookies and delivering greetings plenty of seating on the outdoor deck and everything wrecked as a ball of string leading back to a different day’s track this reminds me that defines me and I am losing my definition my edge slapping a videoed self in a downloadable way this is what happens when daft punk plays at your house and you get stored in the garage the knowledge of growth is different than the feeling the reeling back unable to reel in to feel in and out of sorts and to bake layer cakes with mistakes in the middle and sticking-out pieces on top we are what we serve we eat what our nerves allow and there are golden cows but no one can drink from them there are angel’s wings but no one can sink on them I have eaten a salad and left out the tongue I have taken a picture from the sideways rung of an upside-down world remember how I can’t forget keep picking daisies and runaway thrift shoes using the big screen to show the sneakers from the other side of the rainbow remember how we used to remember how we’re used to and how will the next verse go will it be free or will it rhyme and how can there be more time to forget how quickly will it go and will my tongue turn Spanish in the meantime will my rice be spicier the potatoes masheder will some unspoken disaster march in fast and faster than handlable and who will notice if the hocus pocus comes unsewn the gloaming all amuck and the truck dropping off chocolate milk no more the cold springs of memory running on in the twilight the porch bright but the view dark

Saturday, September 11, 2010

justwrite 11 september

wake up loved and go to sleep alone you are what you own but this is only space a chase through time with the energy to depend internally the organs playing some sweet song the chords along the way pulling forward onward and tangling we wrangle our hearts through so many rodeos the clowns around the corner laughing into their bright red shoes their noses they choose for confidence we are meant to be the destroyers of the past and the trash is not collected how to make the bed how to get led and then lead how to fail and also to succeed in the right deeds too speedy for the trees to overhear but over here there is more space as previously mentioned there are additional dimensions we can’t disregard it’s too hard to pretend those things never happened it’s much easier to imagine that we’re suddenly adapting but to go on like that is to chat with a face you’ve never seen nor held between outstretched hopes we cope with our tires as the bus drives on there are bumps in the road they are literal the figurative ones appear late in the night while hair dries and unpacking is ignored let’s store up the questions for someone else’s lessons we cannot learn right now we cannot tell cows to give honey there is no money to buy that kind of bread and instead a shower instead an hour of soup-making the leave-taking too complete to eat even crackers tired of the fired self-implosion sitting on the sidelines throwing peanuts into the air and wondering as they fall calling all the alabaster lobster tails pale in comparison with these jettisoned jewelry pieces the boxes rocky and the mountains full of oysters since the flood since the past month since the changes and the ranges are dropping off into the foothills it’s still ill in the sideways view but the truth is much more useful the path is much more fruitful to check the mirror to imagine a clearer view to wear the same glasses to sign different passes and to consider the tickets before buying but to keep off the sighing pushing it away for a slightly brighter daytime vantage point we amount to much we touch the ground and we leap we are the frogs of our own design aligning the sun with our stance and dancing with just-mailed dresses testing the tresses for climbing then realizing we are the ones with the hair and we are the ones who will climb where we is me and the singular is truer though the plural sounds stronger we are all the upgoers we are the boatrowers gently down the stream and sometimes up and sometimes on the bank we give thanks and we know the stream flows on

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

justwrite 8 september

we remember our words we herd them into ears and ferry them across the river over the shivering banks we rank our tanks and we give our thanks to the wolves we feed ourselves full are woolly in the ears and our tears will feed no masses will crash no gates pearly or late we are fated to retell our swellest encounters over and again and scan the crowd for doubters no we will say yes we did sway in that wind we went time and again to the river and we swam in the moonlight daybreak open-air minefield daring to be called out daring to beware and to stare backward into an unsuspecting face we are tracing the outlines of fine times on the tabletops and we can’t stop until long after it’s over and the table is gone and the times linger on through the lines switched to facing forward onward and back through different angles the august light the brightness before the winter and we wander warily but what way we go is yet to be known we have thrown a ball and all the guests have called to say they’re on their way but the sunset is not yet swept from their eyes their lies and their truths too useful for telephone operators to overstate like cases wise beyond grammar like stammering too sweetly for indiscreet conversations we have faced less united nations than these and while the trees are passing no judgment so let it be with our minds our hearts are fine but they don’t need to be told they don’t need to grow old and apart there are starts but the finishes diminish returns and I know I’ll earn no interest with such investments and it’s not a test meant to see if the reading’s been heeded but weeding out the rest makes the best shine through

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

justwrite 7 september

preparing to write a letter the sentences make it out before the words they are herding themselves over the edge of my tongue rushing along to my fingers but lingering past the outlasting castaways the copperhead islands the other songs that come from outer space and chase each other into the abyss destroying the void of hissing flora too and the truth is changing in each stomachtwist the moment missed when it would have been easy to say and in fact there is no opinion worth its weight in fear there are clear parameters the diameter is half of the quadruple of the radius and if that comes in handy then I’ve got some fresh ideas that’ll really knock your teeth in with wind and fury but no sound we are rounding the next corner prepping the next mourner for celebration the fascination from an external perspective leaves the self-directive insights to keeping me up nights and trailing through the days in the most distracting ways there is no grace to save those footsteps having leapt several steps that seemed upcoming running to keep pace with everything else the self the other the dark the brothers of the holidays the cooler shades and the brighter films sparkling in their predictions of what’s to come what’s undone the next round of groundbearing fruits will fly about in cahoots with chaos tossing salads and glances and ladybug dances why bother with sense when the sentences won’t pass the mustard your way down the table unable to justify the deciding factors the tractors and the lollipops the words that come to mind that drop their drippings into gravy boats and sail along the highway going your way or my way and it’s hard to say if they’re the same but there’s no name to such games just sleep to keep deepening and tea to keep steepening like words pressed into books like flowers drying with crying with wintercold dictionaries and other theories pressed tested passed lasting strawberry jam and brownbread knickerbockers the talkers and the listeners the cobwebs and the antelope we all want our own sheepdogs we all have secret dreams that we keep on our bedside tables and I am imagining such stability is to grave to see through to the end befriending opportunities and fleeing sprees of discontent

Monday, September 6, 2010

justwrite 6 september

berry orange cherry storm nickel plate dinner late saving grace amazing race apple core subtle bore green leaf poppy teeth the sounds resound the towns echo with the glow of internal fireworks jerking all those chains exchanging the rain for green like leaves like cash like trash for someone else’s dinner the flowers on the island growing thinner I am cold eating mashed potatoes I am dancing under violet lights and the brightest ideas of the revolution are circling around with no resolution we can’t be solved ourselves and we need the help of others of sisters and of mothers the cinnamon in our mouths finally turning to a different song when all along we’d wondered about the benefits and spit it out the doubt pushed by the wayside stories from a sideways school mismatched scandalously the tango triangulated from what ought to be and there is no such the things we touch turn to green and the thrift is always a better price nicer than imaginable we travel through glasses to look and stoves to cook let’s take turns in the kitchen I can’t help missing that mess and casting that stress in a different direction trying to catch a vision fishing for something missing and pulling back what’s lost tossing more than necessary overboard and I’ve scored this wall four and more times plus seven and those fathers on that continent and that new nation the pizza-eaters the feeders of success stories into the television and the pumping out of bubbles we give you for your troubles the following commercials we’ve had endless rehearsals and we are prepared to perform the norms are irrelevant and we’ve just about already spent the budget but the first stage is almost over and it’s time for the next act to counteract the excitement of the intermission let’s swim in warmer waters let’s rest on the beach and reach our own conclusions we will take those clouds into consideration we find fascination in the sand and bury our toes as we suppose golden cannot be kept and remember that poem has already been written by a different smitten American cared for by more and more generations than can stay divided by fences by snowy woods by good neighbors

Sunday, September 5, 2010

post 5 september

justwrite 5 september

there are some notes ready to be written but the voice to sing is lost in the keys no one sings in c these days no one has a natural way of delivering without stamps the camps are all turning into autumn we’ve tried to solve them but still it rains let’s talk about rice with butter let’s remind ourselves of the lists to be done and the floor still to be swept I leapt from bed to see what the time had brought but the clouds caught in the drain remained there all day and there was no light in the bathroom or in the attic children’s poems and hot water all swirling in the kitchen sink something to think about some apples to buy and slice with twitchyhand delivery I am minding the knife carefully I am stirring dessert before it becomes itself this jacket becomes your sister and he dances with a purse he dances with a chair no one cares if the pole is there if the staring in the mirror is clearer than reflection if the smoky misdirection allows the foolish moves to groove themselves into record recollection the protection racket the white leather jacket and a scarf fit to be tied knotted with a dotted eye we want to say the right things but bringing tears to clear examination is not the goal there are whole books to be written in minute detail before the resale price comes down on the publishable interval how long will it be and how strong will we seem with the bits in between twisting streams of thought into adopted directions I am wiping clean I am gathering up my cup spills and I am working with a toothpick wondering about the matter and the fact and the case in this point is out of joint the joists hoisting the train too high to spy anything but sky from those windows we glow our own norms we eat our own cornucopia of hopeful thoughts bought at the price of makingnice and telling the truth the youth and the years flickering the beauty trickling downstream longer fingers and quieter ears hearing what ought to be said but living in reality instead fed on apple soda and grape sparklers flaring up in the latenight thickthroat settledown comfort

justwrite 2 september

vokzal: a study// and on the left you will see love/ on the right friendship/ these are the same/ these are different// here is leavetaking/ here is greeting// trying to remember a song/ with the right sentiment/ comfort and continuity// here is the ongoing/ massflowing forward and elsewhere/ sparks of recognition/ joy, relief/ pressed hard against/ miniature despair, fear/ longing felt long before departure// here it is possible to know/ remember again// on and on/ the trains arrive/ the announcer speaks a foreign language/ considerately and clearly/ confidently and calmly/ this train is on this track/ cars are numbered from the tail/ life goes on/ you are not alone/ goodbye hello

riding away from a hypercolor sky those shirts that guys used to have in seventh grade but that is the past and if you keep outlasting then it’s hard to be all the way forward or backward as we’ve heard there are conditions either active or in remission we are twitching without switching muscles we are tousling our own hair saying there there and whispering pet names in the selfsame voice we’d like to hear to there from here is a long trip the nights clip along at a steady pace we cannot erase the places the space between preens and primes its feathers weathering the arrival some stage of survival which ought to be success though who can tell what’s next and who can correct a not-yet-written text we have our articles our adjectives we forgive the contractions when something worthy is delivered but in the meantime we set the stage fine and sanded ready for the landed gentry to pass the sentry and sail straight through to the new a different shore and what’s more is that the map’s collapsed in an apt lapse of sense the tent not strong enough the light not long enough and when the night comes the shivers line up like so many quivers rocking arrows calling sparrows and other hopes out of the trees and freezing streams with wideawake goldfish peering back aghast through the glass

justwrite 1 september

to busykeep is to steep tea bags in honey and to pay all the money in the cookie tin to an unknown cause without pause deserving of applause and financial encouragement there were many places meant to go many suns and many snows but calendars get flipped around in unimagined storms we are torn from ourselves sometimes but there are others who remember and hand us back pieces resting beside us to tell stories of shared glories and quiet dreams we seem to the mirror to be leaning paler but of course there’s more to it and there’s no need to pity a flower that’s pretty in its own knowing blowing off ramshackle tackle set to catch a certain fish there are wishes that won’t come true but the use in being disappointed is hard to measure easy to treasure to nurse in bedraggled tears and cups of tea we are doing our best to keep you together say the blankets the shower the incidental pillows and I am being thankful even while I ask for more I had given up the artist alone image imagined I had considered some plot devices but I set the wrong ones in motion and this is a reminder to stick to poetry but really we see the characters right and write themselves as is their given right and this is not mine to take but to make more of in the upcoming