I was merely speaking the grammar of the world And I couldn't stand being judged while I did it. The earth was knee-deep in books already And I was just adding to it, it was weird. I like to see things form Take shape and then dissolve. I like to see things formed Take flight and then collide. In this advent of leisure I couldn't find my family And hope was sitting like a waif. At different moments I'm in different places, Modern history begins. I like to see things form Take shape and then dissolve.
I’m but a sprout in love,
My knees deep in the realm of personal myths and private misgivings.
A timber sprawled between me and another figure full of someness.
A kitch builds itself and treads to see where I sleep.
In the light-aired night,
The crow smiles me off and cuts me lengthways.
I lay there like the land, my cadence slow,
Full of pain, full of plain.
I’m not strong enough, not at this pace,
Especially not in June.
In the thick-aired night,
The lover and the bay kissing in a withdrawing roar
Shatter me, even when I’m watching from afar.
I feel it so…
Her secrets to me are facts,
Especially in June.
I, who am mostly small And was supposed to be just insignificant, Was never much of a face. So weird being changed By the contagious childhood prayers. It's been a while since I feared birth And the masonry gargoyles. It's been a while since I've resolved And self-inscribed into the archways. Screw being wasted mid-scream, Screw being wasted at all. After this I always failed to enter looking for the ending. Maybe I was born wrong, But in any case I was born.
My eyes are furnace-red. Was I born to stand down or am I being tugged and dragged? One hand rives the other as I write a common poem, But at least the birds are freed and fed. I am part of the bunch that never stopped migrating. If the wind is warm and wraps us hard, We fight through songs of grief So that our flight goes far. We become sharper And the pain that would before wound us Now falls in the form of rain. I checked the language of the mountain To see if I still was pronouncing it the right way. It was the same, I was the same, But sharper and further away.
Out and greenly afar I am wind-bellowed. Under my dreams possessed, I am an only barren meadow. The sand drops on everything And I smile at the rest. I am home to beaches of stone Under my dreams unguessed. I will not stop at your hand, I will not stop at the Edge. My feet will be there staking, My feet will make me stand. Now that I'm off the thick zest And into a buzzing mortal scheme, I take scissors to my seams And stand under my dreams undressed.
That I may cease to nothingness on the shore Of my unreflecting love, That I may never live to be more than the high-piled books Inside my teeming brain, That I may forget to sail the still chords Of your lulling eyes, That I may strengthen my darkness divine.
Bloody hell, the sky is clear And I'm here to write poetry. When sound doesn't do it for me anymore, I do something for it in return. Sometimes with wet hair, Other times with wet fingers. I used to call myself the sailor of my feelings, But haven't done much of that since, So I don't think the liquid justifies the inkling. (unfinished due to thoughts about sinking)
To the light of day my sadness seems ridiculous, impossible, A tale of introspective boredom. The sun shines a bright light inside me and everything becomes white and indistinguishable. Joy is but a star Drowned in its own flaming crest, A white wind spread across my window. Without light I am shade and doubt, I think about truth and expound it through to the gorge Never to be seen again. Our Sun, who art in Heaven.
I'm a foot soaker But still unaware of the process by which things become grey. I'm a foot soaker so I speculate The ray hitting the sail and taking it From creak to river, from river to sea. Colour and life dissolving in the late afternoon Into a vaccum. How am I still unaware of the process by which things become grey At least one time a day?
Enough Is Enough is leaving my body in a long sustained shiver, While Each Gulp jumps out and saves my life. I don't even have the tears anymore, I might be Deprived. I thought I was Done, but I still had it in me. I thought there was an easy way because I still had it in me.