Sun, 18 Dec 2005


dying days


burnt out, trampled, bruised and scratched up tattered and shredded into bits was it dark purpose, cruel design as the daylight waned and darkness usurped the land that I was made against my will to face the dying and the dead made to be Charon rowing the rickety boat across that lifeless river

I will remember their lifeless eyes the heart still beating, the lungs still drawing breath but the soul knew no more, trickled out, evaporated in that final agony that is wordless the only cry a weak whisper escaping from my lips in that bleak despair of those sterile rooms the darkness of bitter morning looming outside the windowpanes reminding me that we are, in the end, just lifeless meat

I have mastered the art of crushing hope stamping out the sparks of miracles to offer nothing more than a peaceful death (but it is as I have always known it the dying may suffer, but it is the living who must bear it) send sweet nepenthe dripping through your veins and it is I who must remember who will whisper your name in the dark quiet night in the silence before dreaming in the space between spaces

It is the weeping of the still-living that wound me thousands of tiny needles and knives and the dreams and hopes of what might be shredded and mangled by cold, hard science the mathematics of probability and Time's unstoppable arrow even the stars are torn asunder, obliterated into soul-sucking darkness given enough time

Those final breaths, hard, and labored, the body, unthinking, still aches to live but all I can promise is unending sleep

It is in this quiet moment the cold silence of dark winter night hanging over me that I catalog the names of the dead whisper their names like a litany and pray for dreamless sleep.

21:46:03 18 Dec 2005 > /poetry > permalink > 0 comments

Mon, 04 Jul 2005




compelled to distill some sense from the gnarled mass of thoughts like a tangled skein of yarn convoluted into incomprehension pathetically conflating this sensation, this phenomenon of not feeling any pain merging this concept with happiness

knowing it is hollow, a dessicated rind of delusion enclosing the horrific, intrinsic void

this nullifying nadir of my existence at the hopeless bottom of this gravity well embraced on all sides by impossibilities

what more, indeed, what more can a man ask for? as I stifle my desire, crush it like a spent, empty beer can against my forehead

because what is desire but suffering? but still knowing that stillness is death

can my soul ossify, perhaps? fossilized, smashed down by the weighing strata of fear fraught with failure I think: Atlas with the world on his back the doomed caryatid falled under her burden my soul crystallizing into dead, still carbon (you ever think of diamond as the sad remains of some creature? some sad creature as myself crushed down into something that sparkles at last)

times like this, I wish I could implode like a star shining bright my heart blazing like a hellacious furnace committing violent acts of creation raging with the tempest of a stellar wind illuminating the aching void of the cosmos


I am but a man alone, and doomed to die and days like this I wonder if that is all I have left to look forward to.

23:56:07 4 Jul 2005 > /poetry > permalink > 59 comments

Sat, 19 Mar 2005




the hour of barking madness, long ere the coming of the dawn to sleep now would be folly oh but to await the sunrise… this floating space and time of going nowhere fast

the mind disposes of thoughts and ideas dreams and memories forking, twisted paths turning inward upon themselves like Ouroborous eating his own tail there are no answers except for the one we already know the rest of it is just filling in the blanks

the city that is no city that is a place I may only visit in the darkness with my eyes shut

we take the train into the city center though of course forgetting that there is no center only the periphery is real and we spin about on Joseph's constructed merry-go-round seeking that ivory tower the phallus stretching up into the sky that God tore down, scattering us to the four winds

and all we're left with is some psycho-babble some half remembered doggerel about penises and tongues and the unforgivable hubris of trying to reach heaven

I dream of voices in the Oort cloud stirring and I wonder about all the things in this universe that remains unseen all the things that are seen, but we do not understand living on this tiny rock spinning around a little poof of starlight that could wink out in an eyeblink as far as the universe was concerned

we are, ultimately, little children playing at high drama mutilating and killing each other for some paltry trinkets trying to ignore the long, lonely darkness staring at us through the night sky

00:50:14 19 Mar 2005 > /poetry > permalink > 3686 comments

Wed, 02 Feb 2005


last dance for half a year (the theory of many-worlds)


in the background the soundtrack of my private despair

dream of gazing into your eyes, light glimmering those stray photons etching like laser light into the hidden dimensions of my heart

nonsense tumbles from my lips like verbal troglodytes misshapen, ugly, and needlessly brutal I am tumbling through space flailing wildly, trapped in my own vortex forever hiding my desire

the conversation spins and spirals I am mesmerized, enchanted the space between us unravels, splays out into cold, immeasurable distance

to die numb and unfeeling light fading, the false warmth of frostbite alone in this merciless maelstrom this unforgiving tempest I see my doom wrought in the golden thread of the Fates reaching into infinity, unraveled, unfettered, unbound

in the blackness of empty space I can only dream of the life I was not destined to.

08:49:48 2 Feb 2005 > /poetry > permalink > 56 comments

Sat, 15 Jan 2005


she looks


where did that come from, that look, like "yikes!" or "i don't know what's going to happen, but we'll find out soon enough," like lightning flash, freeze framing everything searing it into my retinas recognition like an elbow to the head where have i seen that before a hundred lifetimes ago perhaps this infinitely unraveling distance between us sending me spinning and twirling out into space no, not us, there is no us but this memory of a dream and the things that I've happened to pin upon your visage shimmering in my mind half-remembered things that never were striking true in some backhanded fashion

i wake from my dreams frightened whether good or ill not remembering which way the world is supposed to turn has my dream ended, and have I wakened? or do i sleep, and still dream?

i still don't know what's going to happen but, as you've never said to me, we'll find out soon enough

21:47:36 15 Jan 2005 > /poetry > permalink > 33 comments