Graspings #23

each day the body grows heavy. melts into the cracks
in the concrete. was there ever a time it could fly away from
this head?
so. each day it presses against the bones rattling with their
own timbre. flesh is strong in odor, in sanguine muck.

lets stay vigilant through some nights
lets stop feeding it, stop drinking, stop
urinating, stop.
lets see if it will explode. or. like the death of a star,
implode (into a memory sucking in, if
memories (ever (do) anything) else.)

time crawls up the gullies, and you shan’t have this womb
shan’t have this womb.
this womb will have cobwebs like they say too many spiders
isn’t necessarily a good thing.

they say they say but the mind doesn’t care much because it knows
too little of its meat, meat that lolls in the mouth, meat that fold and
buckle. it don’t care la la la, it don’t care honey;
it don't believe. O spirit? soul? sex?
drugs rock and lo? and
love? gender --------
bender? dare I, have gone, there?

like the mind, the heart cannot carry much weight, cannot carry
time, too much tenderness, for tenderness is flesh, is muscle, is an arm.
the heart will lie crushed. will murmur into its own prophetic death.

for me, it will go first
into a darkened room. and
the body will scream outside
in the rain.

©hRj 2008

Reunion

Fie! Fie!
Five fies upon your stead.
How her eyes wander, lost
in my face, how
her embrace so toothy, so grown.
More than years has it been,
more than distance, too many legs
ran. Fatigue has no words, breeds unfamiliar scents.

Where have you gone o friend?
O fir-tree, o nymph you whipper of men?
If she is you
(young woman, wife, and mother),
please give me a sign. Let us ride again,
with the plume of peacocks,
with iridescence and flair.

O friend,
I admit I am a pocketful of fear,
I have a sad roebuck-longing
in the center of my palms.

I wonder, if
perhaps she is you,
just like I am now me.
But together, will you want,
my sister Ouroboros,
to crawl backwards into the sun?



©hRj2008

I'm not happy with the wording. wtf. Atleast I'm back somewhat.

personal.news.break

I AM THE MISSING LINK
Trouble finds me!
I WILL LEARN SOMETHING
OF COURTS.

Fun with Negativity

When aliens take away all the seniors in a town,
There is controversy and a mass funeral.

(all of this
a mediocre movie that finds its way
here,
and i thought it
so full of quirk and arrow. how else to explain
wishful riddance to a child? “grandpa is in outer-space,
break-dancing and physically enjoying grandma.”
what a blast will the vicars sound off that!)

The things I would give to look my old face in the eye,
And not quake when I hear her voices. Same damn strings bowed
On a badly tuned violin; peut-etre some emotion,
Some smiley face scrawled in the snow.

(aliens wrote those,
then wrote this.
how else to explain myself
to myself one day like now? introduce
quark and double. “the only thing worth investigating during
their time on earth, were awful poetry and sphincters.”
what a clever twiddle-dee twerp he is,
the one who discovered IBS and repetition!)


©hRj 2007

Bloglife Irascibility

passive tyrant. hush. your scowls.
i'll. put an end. to your. envious scoffing.
dictionary (dot) com won't help you. one. bit
you. cormorant oaf. dagger eye. over
others' noble intentions! failings. are as
natural as yours. do. you really. think you. shit
gold? and. what. the fuck good.
is any philosophy. when it. meats.
imaginationland?

see. those line breaks - hear that. rhythm. those
purls of. soulful adjectives. intravenous.
why. they'd make. any word
smith quake 5.3. you are. nothing but.
a purloiner of. maxims from.
the. dead. so remember. to flatter.
compliments. will swerve. you
at the. end. because chubb. chickns get.
eaten first.

©hRj2007

i like to play. i hope im playing.

The Gazebo

We finished building the gazebo
four months ahead of schedule,
just in time for the heart of winter.

Has that ever happened to you?
It looked silly against the

grey heaving bosom of her sky.

The girl was afraid
it would not be there when it came time for
pomegranate tea under sprig spring stars.
You were early too, I told her;
we are here now.

Never mind who she is,
or her relationship to our gazebo,
to the blue diamond pills
spread in my hair. After the storm,
she will come back from the hospital.
She will. And we will bury ourselves
in the missing walls of the straw-thatched
remains.
Ahead of schedule -

I've prepared chestnuts for roasting,
wood for the fire, and

enough lonesome to

burn for her lovely.

©hRj2007

Unforgivable

Lover, the inconsolable between my
Breasts mean much more
Than history or chemistry.
But for you to feel
This, you needed to know,
I am no object for
Overflowing affections
Or escapist tendencies.
I am but a whore of time.
I do not love you;
I’m sorry. Will you never understand?
You were a chance that I catch
His lost glances in
This brief sleep.

©hRj2007