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Untitled (10/7/10)

August 15, 2011

on the mornings where i saw his face,
all-pleasing, beat-ridden joy
marking time
fond pleasantly remembering
after the waits of doubt,
smile wholly forward
breaking ounce-to-ounce
foiling

bit temper, tip,
toe tip to floor safely,
further where
i hear what you know

sullenly they all go where we go,
once lifting but
only some lighting,
happening
away from the calm,

my worries go to bank
on your edges
most thoughtful to place
sureness
on your step

because you stop and all afterdreams go
to your side of things

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Untitled (9/23/10)

August 15, 2011

i trip lightly
over daisies,
calming listless horizons blinking
upward, upward calm
in forgiveness
layered accumulating
meadowing blankets
come running
down suns

skipping wearily with shoelaces too bright,
giggles cradle
the afternoon with
softness

the sky seems wearable again
with your invitation

you know the checkered spots
well enough to see me

and feel i’ve arrived

Untitled (9/20/10)

August 15, 2011

when i’d thrown you
a volley of curses,
all i got back was sand,
the most righteous kind,
spit right between my eyes at that second sight-
how calm of you, controlled,
a lamp with a fatal dimmer switch,
your sharp hands starving with moth warmth,
of the same light you bring me each night

the tooth of the skin, the imprints,
folded with your gestures that answer
each turn of my wish,
fast blowing-back sincerity
to naiveté,
broke for kindness,

you make the deplorable conform
containing me with vices,
i’m ashamed you work

the only thing coming back
worth despising

Untitled stream (9/19/10)

August 15, 2011

hot, sinewy
flows across wreaking light sweat bleeding fake,
fake
hustling energy towards unholy unions of crimes and persperation,
the desperate guilt-stroking fever-listening hysteria,
blame this
take away regret and pile remorse
on top of nothing,
nothing and hills of nothing
speak for themselves
not hearing, believing, showing a good word
faith-filled world of
good-doing
do good and no harm,
fuck
no sorrys so sorry so sorry
means
can’t have the rest, does this born-with feeling
hold the same shame
or different,
does your name reflect a new form of temptation,
or the old
that sweater, teeming with umbrage and desire,
controlling wasted fingers,
sewn-together straps that construe hold-
permanence-
reeling listless blank,
but lips open not closed
the same sweat that falls off your collarbone
tearing up my sigh
no marches fell
your beautiful crutch

Untitled (9/9/10)

August 15, 2011

even
blue sprawling,
cerulean over cobalt sings

like a hurried word you first
warned me,
announcing furious
some look of hurting could
be you or

no windowframe complete to break
your earnest retreat

some fire locked in that last part of the sun
that passes behind the evening,
coyly

slipping into waiting for me,

you forced that timid
reach blowing sounds at me
through glass, fair as the morning

three marks left there
triangulating what the sea already knows

you have yet to blame me

Untitled (8/19/10)

August 15, 2011

a song to sing, worry make
light of brighter eyes
focusing, narrowing
blinding fever
trying to light a lamplight that reaches from the shade,
blinking out a deeper vow of cold, silent

globes light up with shouting, warmth goes
to those holding firm,
onto landmasses arctic and humid,
thick core-bringing out, the salt equalizes,
sucking from within
some protein stops to pay homage

that suffering touch pulsing, spun
into coarse thread and webs hardly
but just long enough

there’s a band and a weapon
the size of this in mine
some voiceful tool cradling,
burning

lime-etched wrinkles like close-up-lips
unremarkable, but of their flush beckoning

made light into your terrifying,
sweetly rising form

Blip of prose (8/17/10)

August 15, 2011

I am an ear to the world, but deaf.  Time stutters around me in shivering strokes.  When they smile, I see it only from the reaches of a cold pool.

No one is ever getting out.  They glide but they do not know who I am.