Two new poems

I keep writing poetry at the bar when I'm drunk because I forget to bring my laptop with me and have to resort to napkins :P (Cant write a story on napkins) I also do not usually drink this much but it has been good (and daily).

Yes I have been making up a lot of words lately... must be a drunk thing.


Napkin 1, Untitled

Were you there when I scrawled
my space-time blemishes
Did you wait alongside
tides of
creatures peeling dry, fossilizing
Were you aware beyond
sky's high
because I
felt immensely
PROPENSLY

your presence
moon
and universe
The chill of the air
I dare
to know my path
left of star dust
combusted,
pinkish fragments
streamingly
unseemingly
and rocket-propelled


Napkin #2, also untitled

Haven't got time enough for
predisposition
blossoming contusions of
remission
nature be-lies
pretension
When you've been growing so suddenly
in unrelated directions
sedated by your summons
of figments
come from what-nots
which we ignore.
I implore the
re-hashing
of these scrambled particles
imbalanced by
misplaced gravity
I rise above this
physical form

(Part of the "Amidst" group of works)

Smooth sailing, I say with the upper corner of my eye

like the glint on an afternoon ripple

fleeting but steadily repeating.

And of the night; my pupils shade a darker, truer kind of kind

Never mind fair weather, that’s a trivial endeavor

For the rolling fog fills in

amidst the choppy waves

and we stand together

A Pirate’s knowing is useless spoken,

and of those depths I cannot exploit

but that is where I’ll anchor you

no other strings attached

Mad in the moonlight

We’ve always basked in its pull

cradling in its sliver like a silver swing

coming full circle, half believing

Setting our course by the stars among it,

laughing at those sky diamonds

coursing in our veins

And a little of this or that

to flood and flush the same

(Maybe that’s a dangerous game

but how the time can fly with you

and a little rum too)

Some nights have been so thick and black

I could only feel around to try and reach you

as I listened for the mud oozing in your ears

and I searched empty air for the cool reflection in your eyes

always hoping to see a fire burning there instead

because then I'd know we could just row

out of this storm

That's the catch in the sail, my friend

No wind.

Morning comes and the salty sea air

is apparent again

Soft wispy skies sometimes betray

how far away

we’ve come from shore

But I can always spare

a little more

 

I didn't see the Moon (Part of the "Keep" group of works)

Crawled down within where it
crystallized in the center like
splintering minerals that fed my
fractal heart until you failed to
follow, and I was back to a simple
moment of dissonance


Keep up, kept until you
washed away fragments
of time we've lived
ac-cumulatively

Faith has a way
of failing
affirmingly
Yes this pace has a way of
trailing
confirmingly

So I haven't moved from my
wine
so little in too much time
we wont
drink together tonight

Urgency

A sense of urgency keeps taunting me,
bolstered by a sense of self-efficacy
I actually feel like I could put your puzzle together. (Although by the end of all that hard work I would end up laughing about a prank I pulled
where it mattered to you the most.)

Maybe you don’t want me ghosting around your
thoughts where you
might try to hide.

Even though we have
built the beginnings of an empire
It has its roots clinging
to a crumbling bureaucracy

We are actually more like lichens, anyway

So this works out wonderfully

I don’t really need recognition or a home
I just need to see that humans are capable of what I know
That I am
You know, kind love and enough effort

We can transcend this
but I'm so distracted by thoughts of you
a stranger who
I may never know

It is tantalizing to feel we could be dreaming the same thing
And never be sure of it, really
Until we’ve laid it all out there on those
War-scrubbed streets
instead of between
the sheets

2:22 (How Cob Webs Form)

Time ticks

and then my mind ticks

and I see that it clicks

into place, but in a way that breaks

and cracks

(everything else slipping in between.

Even between my grasped tight fingers)

Dripping Dali, am I

But I am eternal to be drained from

I cannot prune up or clot I just

Flow this way.

seeping, not seething

reaching out unsleeping, am I

a black widow?

Spinning a web to catch the droplets curling in the folds of

shadows spun that follow over my shoulder secretly

they linger, re-liquefy and boil down to a desolate moment

Is just Time the proponent?

These things never add up mathematically

Immediately.

Peace shattered, Time gathered and spent up,

Blathered

We get so heated, defeated over

a round earth of molten core that melts to cool

pelts ice to pool, soft rippling

shielding, revealing, reflecting

The only real resurrecting

all these

Patterns, this precipitation;

cyclical saturation

What was it all

that we came together for? What laughs we spilt. When all is said and done

do we realize we wasted too much time mad

or not enough? What kind of mad? Glad in recollection.

And it stops, now. I can’t waste one more precious dew drop on my

displeased expectations.

Every small glistening is a diamond wasted on a thirsty eye, unquenched by the brilliance of millions of them

dancing across the sky

for ages beyond our grasp of notion… this motion is so

Brief

Just a gesture, really.

Spun up by a spider, stunned by Salvador Dali

Love and bless all like it is the past come back

for a second chance, with the foresight turned from your glad recollection, a reflection of the only resurrection we have

sweet memories saved

from nature and time

transformed in rhyme

Like a spider caresses her web of collected

water droplets, paralyzed victims, and other things that may just

tear it all down or into

strips and pieces that will hang and shutter on the wind, clinging frail

by a thread

The most tender hug of softened life like a

Cob web left

Owls