the sun waves
white flag
surrenders.
bowed
too low
arise
arise
arise
you shall.
*
We sipped tea
a ceremony of
kindred spirits
obedient to our
code , they share not.
We whispered
shared sparkling
tongues
of hope
of truth
of more
then this...
*
our vision perceives
beyond
the bellowing below
we see more
when toes seep
deep into our earths
core and curse not
our birth --our pride--
our future.
we wait...
the pleasant tide
of paradise
restored.
you and i
and shared evenings
spent.
slp
Friday, March 18, 2011
Friday, February 25, 2011
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
title is obvious
...even when it hurts.
*
strapped to the chair
'open wide'
not quite feeling ,like Dustin Hoffman in marathon man., but pretty close.
Sure they numb ya --but before that --they prick ya with pain.
drilling deep into the bone structure of said smile--
'you're doing good...'
YEAH RIGHT!.
Words of affirmation taking up air space--not for the victim in the chair
but for the steady hands profiting from my obedience.
Pull them all out-- i dont need to smile--
matter of fact-- I can do without speech--
O yeah---theres that...Food.
Food---
the substance that reaches some hearts.
food--
the fiber that liquefies and solidifies said smile.
Surely pureed food mushed into gums would not work.
Food--
the tempest of my palette.
Food
the vice that feeds more then the hungry--
and less then the hungry...
food---
of which spiced wars ensued--
food--
OK...
I aint no bloody fool---
*
so she suffers obediently strapped by sheer will.
counting --breathing...dreaming....dreaming...
'are you always so nervous?'
"Ium a NewYawker we're high strung."
'I can prescribe something for ya next time.'
(ok--i play dumb well--Oscar worthy-- yet--them Valiums would be more for you then me.)
"Will they help the pain?--I mean--it won't really make a difference if I am relaxed and still in pain?"
He lies---
"ummmmmmmmmmmm--Yea...it should.'
*
I hide my glee for the chance to get some mellow yellows...
I hide my glee for a script yet another --to hide my pain.
Keep Smiling...
even when it hurts.
slp
*
strapped to the chair
'open wide'
not quite feeling ,like Dustin Hoffman in marathon man., but pretty close.
Sure they numb ya --but before that --they prick ya with pain.
drilling deep into the bone structure of said smile--
'you're doing good...'
YEAH RIGHT!.
Words of affirmation taking up air space--not for the victim in the chair
but for the steady hands profiting from my obedience.
Pull them all out-- i dont need to smile--
matter of fact-- I can do without speech--
O yeah---theres that...Food.
Food---
the substance that reaches some hearts.
food--
the fiber that liquefies and solidifies said smile.
Surely pureed food mushed into gums would not work.
Food--
the tempest of my palette.
Food
the vice that feeds more then the hungry--
and less then the hungry...
food---
of which spiced wars ensued--
food--
OK...
I aint no bloody fool---
*
so she suffers obediently strapped by sheer will.
counting --breathing...dreaming....dreaming...
'are you always so nervous?'
"Ium a NewYawker we're high strung."
'I can prescribe something for ya next time.'
(ok--i play dumb well--Oscar worthy-- yet--them Valiums would be more for you then me.)
"Will they help the pain?--I mean--it won't really make a difference if I am relaxed and still in pain?"
He lies---
"ummmmmmmmmmmm--Yea...it should.'
*
I hide my glee for the chance to get some mellow yellows...
I hide my glee for a script yet another --to hide my pain.
Keep Smiling...
even when it hurts.
slp
i b is
the gentle matter
that this life
greets
comes not in the moments
of solitude --nor mingled with shared
breath
but
on the wings
at rest .
far from the hungry predators
eye---
far from the notions tongues
of suspiciousness deride
of wings at rest.
slp
that this life
greets
comes not in the moments
of solitude --nor mingled with shared
breath
but
on the wings
at rest .
far from the hungry predators
eye---
far from the notions tongues
of suspiciousness deride
of wings at rest.
slp
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Wednesday, February 02, 2011
Monday, January 24, 2011
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
last exit
There are haunts found in these brownstones.
The scaly residue of old love
wailing lamentations of cold love --
you can hear the torment of trees losing ground.
exit signs pointing the way--
slp
