May 2012
1 post
08/05/12
the very picture of living health, apples and cherry-blossoms walk with you even in witching hour september smiles on the dusty road home. crafting fictions in your head full of bath salts and a bath full of sour lemons. every night worked to the bone of your bedsit empty room no light no light. but bees still follow your footsteps, the very picture of living health spring is what ...
April 2012
3 posts
06/04/12
Winter. Was it all just death and hibernation?
Surely the cold kept us clear, alert, alive. Woke to the sounds of rain striking buckets on the patio and wrapped this skin in last year’s embrace.
I was a North pole staring at windows, at far away things.
You were resolute, scraping remains into the sink.
And through the frost we could barely even see.
The wind outside was indifferent to our...
March 2012
3 posts
25/03/12
Never wanted to be unconscious to the seasons, forcing reason from the sunshine and blunting the sharp cornice of conscience. Never asked to be so jaded as not to see a sycamore roasting in the spring, or to miss a remark of humility from a bastard.
Don’t want the piercing gaze of strangers to frost over like a winter solstice. Glad to still see cartoon smiles on the executives’...
17/03/12
Through the eyes of love, I became the crow. You were always a sparrow on the sleeve: not too beautiful but kept the right company. Saw you move through the motions of Sunday washing peaches in the kitchen; patterns of swans woven into the fabric of your dress. I sat perched upon on a stool, close to the doorway, ready to take flight. Cups left to soak, wash me away with dishwater...
03/03/11
Your eyes invite the sweet motions of april, into the boughs of that pale body. Shedding clothes and skin, to reap the deep canyons of spring. We made a small incline to climb inside a violet bloodstream that swallows us whole. The bedsprings well exercised, sunshine sliding in through slats in the curtains crosses the floor to spreads its wings. The farther we fall, the faster reason...
February 2012
3 posts
25/02/11
With a pocked graze on my arm and paper skin stretched across these fingers I took a bus out west.
Spent most of my time staring at windows In a little seaside town on the coast where women hang up their sheets, and men stare vacantly at the wild roots sprouting from their children’s mouths.
One for every flower upturned beneath the cool gaze of the porchlight.
Spring seems a long way off ...
14/02/12
Saw a fire in the park today; brimstone fists of flame tortured the hillside as we sidled past in a gift-wrapped automobile Mercedes.
Returning home from a night of Japanese lanterns and foul play; like the epilogue to some sordid story. Liquor-stained tongues and belief, stripped from the bitter-sweet corners of daylight.
Time is cast into the great caverns of recollection: fields of...
January 2012
1 post
13/01/12
So he walked, roaming the sidewalks beneath the great cluster of brick and mortar, stubbing a newly lit cigarette out underfoot and looking to the sky. He saw in the fluorescent bulbs of the high streetlamps watchful eyes raining down upon him, unyielding in their brightness. All along the traversed sidewalk they followed him, like some horrendous spotlight revealing him naked to the dawn. The...
December 2011
5 posts
deer-headphones asked: Your poetry is exquisite; thank you for sharing it with the tumblr world. Your style is truly uplifting and unique. Glad I found some beautiful poetry on this site, it's very hard to find these days! May ask what inspired your most recent one? "The truest lies ever told imprinted in your tender place" is one of the best lines I've seen in any poem.
In the mind’s eye, evoking the transparency of giants; I walk within their shadow.
The brilliant faces that walk, prim and resolute through streets sheafed in hunger.
A mausoleum of drug stores, false advertisements pushing provocation.
Tarpaulins wrap the hot-dog carts carts in silence. Beneath a twilight sky hung
with brilliant neon. Christmas lights strung above the cobbled sidewalk.
...
November 2011
5 posts
Frank went over to the window once more, the night almost a solid black mass now, the light in the room opposite extinguished. He looked down at the streetlamps along the avenue in static formations, austere in their solid lines. The night air was cool and made him feel light. He closed the curtains, the wind underneath lifting them like a veil, and turned in for the night. Head against the...
October 2011
1 post
Frank always knew it would be like this. He sat down rigidly on the mattress, his body tensing, staring at the closed window. With his suitcase perched precariously upon his lap, he reached for the bedside lamp, hearing the springs creak beneath his weight. It cast a red glow over the bedside table, revealing a small enamel mug – the sides of which were aligned with stale dregs. Beside this, an...
August 2011
2 posts
July 2011
4 posts
“the strange career of a personality begins at five and ends forty minutes later in a fog, the rest is just a lot of stranded ships honking their horns full of joy-seeking cadets in bloomers and beards. it’s okay with me but must they cheer while they honk? it seems that breath could easily fill a balloon and drift away.” - Frank O’Hara, 1961.
May 2011
10 posts
Yesterday I wanted to speak of it, that sense above the others to me important because all that I know derives from what it teaches me. Today, what is it that is finally so helpless, different, despairs of its own statement, wants to turn away, endlessly to turn away. If the moon did not … no, if you did not I wouldn’t either, but what would I not do, what prevention, what thing so...
“We exist for ourselves, perhaps, and at times we even have a glimmer of who we are, but in the end we can never be sure, and as our lives go on, we become more and more opaque to ourselves, more and more aware of our own incoherence. No one can cross the boundary into another —for the simple reason that no one can gain access to himself.” - Paul Auster, The New York Trilogy
April 2011
1 post
March 2011
8 posts
books to buy this month:
meditations in an emergency - frank o’hara lunch poems - frank o’hara leviathan - paul auster timbuktu - paul auster the sound and the fury - william faulkner as i lay dying - william faulkner love is a dog from hell - charles bukowski burning in water, drowning in flame - charles bukowski south of no north - charles bukowski blood meridian - cormac mccarthy couples - jonh updike the...
February 2011
3 posts
le-joie-de-vivre asked: French films: Where should I start?
