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Scraps of Poems

Many poems are written on scraps of paper, hastily written when the words flow, only to be stuffed into someone's pocket.

The music moves me to the unknown levels of life that others may have seen in me, but I've just now discovered them. I want to thank you, but how? The only ways I know to tell you what you've done to me is to write or photograph. No one has yet taught me how to take pictures of souls, but I know that words can go there when nothing else can. Starshine meets me on the other side; I've never had a friend die, only friendships. Your lyrics tell me to activate my thoughts and leave the world behind, so that I can reach those incredible highs (heights). I want to know more than you'll ever tell, but I'll do fine with the memory of your voices and those of your guitars. The audience claps, but I wonder how much they've comprehended, because I know these people and how their minds work. "Just let me try and I will be good to you," but I'll understand if you won't. I can no longer write; your music has taken control, brought me to silent tears that need to learn to fall. - 9:10pm, 4/24/96

I saw you looking my way, but your eyes darted as soon as I moved my head
I get up to leave, look at you , and you flash me a smile
I walk out the door, letting it slam behind me
I hope you'll call, if you still have my number
I walk home, going the long way, so I can think about things too important for sleepless nights in the bedroom
Reaching my front door, I pull out my keys - 3/26/96

Did I come here for your love, or just a few drinks?
I was hoping you would buy me an amaretto sour,
Looking in your direction, trying to catch your eye.
Grooving to the music on the 30 yr old juke box

Early sessions of morning solitude and silence. Now the duty is passed to the animals in hopes that they'll continue the magnanimous tradition. Keep on coming over on the movie nights, so we won't have to talk to each other and only have to stare blankly at the screen or longingly at the side of the other's head. When the movie ends, and the lights go out, I'll walk you to the door, but hope you'll stay around. I waken to the sounds of the cats at the door, breaking the silence, intruding my sleep. - 3/27/96

What I know and what I've been told is all I have to go on.
What if, one day, I find out it's all false?
Where do I go to find the truth if all of life is unverifiable?
Close your eyes to the misgivings of the world and pretend that everything is fine... - 11/29/95

Flame
They say that everyone is beautiful by candle light, so why do I still see my ugly face staring back at me from the clouded mirror?
Am I biased to my own originality?
Take me into your flickering world and make mine shine so bright.
Touch me with your healing pain and caress my innermost depths.
Casually you'll pass out of existence and leave me in your shadow to find out for myself your world and your inconsistent existence.

Starshine beams warm my bed.
I've started sleeping only on 1/2 of my bed now,
      the half exposed to the world.
Moon light caresses my slumbering figure.
I save room for you, even when you're miles
      away in some other bed.
Sunshine breaks through the shades.
I awake only to find the hollow where your body
      lay just days before.
I've come back to you, only to find you gone. - 8/24/96, 1:16am

If I gave you my heart,
      would you give me a pen?
Would you fuck me in the backseat
      of my own car, and then walk away
      without leaving a return address?
Say anything to me and I'll fly you
      to a far away place.
I'll be a gentleman to your lady-ness
      and try to make you smile
      Your eyes will reveal the truth
      in your heart and I will be complete.

Comprehend the New Yorker
If I lived in Peckwater Quad, a thousand years who wore and carried a dozen scouts and bedders from the already gray Arthur Hall, I wouldn't walk to a bathtub to rattle in luxury of service where he who mumbled his sincere gratitude stayed.
Arthur Hall Idly's father's brother bore the interclass Oxford, the servant of some years, tended by teacups without permitting any for the JCR at the House -- a lean obsequious face of black, never smiled, for my condescension.
I mentioned that my bespectacled man called himself HORROR as color drained and fled to his pantry by the need to (halve) half a mile; undiminished the same appellation then watched in trembling, rattling saucers, manners of shame.

work is an idle concept here where sweet 'n low pink pepto-colored packets glare from their basket woven haven. the sugar cubes grate on my nerves leaving a sticky sweet residue on the outside. the old folks play dominoes like teenagers in love on a first date to a crappy diner on the west side of town. there the dishes stack up while the boy is off in the stockroom with the punk kid who works mornings. work idles there as well. at the discount clothing store in the small town mall, one of the salesgirls makes quite a profit from dressing room escapades with customers, willing or not. her work lays idly aside while her side work is getting laid. sex can be idle work, but you make better tips if you at least smile and greet the customer with a friendly hello. which i do with my coffee heads who rush in for a fix and then scramble back to work. like the local guy who runs the resident freak store. his work may idle, but at least he knows who buys sex toys and he gets to listen to whatever music he wants.

NICK
[Do you know F.U.C.T.?]
I like the way you pull off your coolness
You sit and drink your American beer (Budweiser) with your
      green eyebrown ring bringing out the blue in your eyes
That mysterious look you carry in that bag on your
      back makes me want to ask you questions about
      your present-future-past
That innocence with which you enter a room discourages
      all others from approaching your newness.
I used to be scared of your pensive glowing eyes.
I broke through that coolass/badass facade that you
      weren't really meaning to give
I like the way you coast into the building pushing others
      aside with your energy
I'm glad I got to know your name; you've been so polite,
      but I'd like to see your darker side; watch you
      drink and be a rebel dealer of cool
I can see you at my Waffle House, hanging out with
      my friends and laughing at my jokes; stealing
      pepper shakers and dumping out the salt (calling it NaCl).
(To be continued. . .) - 02/29/96

Rude boy
You still impress me with your coolness
      but I know Budweiser isn't your beer of choice
I got answers about your present-future-past,
      though you still hold intrigue and mystery.
Others seem put off or scared by your black leather jacket and rows of spikes
      or maybe it's because you now have 2 eyebrow rings
Whatever it is, you can still push others aside
      with your energy as you coast into a room.
I've watched you be a rebel dealer of cool
      and I've taken a few notes.
I like the way you dance and the music
      you continually feed my ears
You've become a part of the collective us,
      even hanging out at Waffle House
I like the fact that you brought that cute blonde with you,
      she's added to our craziness.
You're no longer new, "we've been there"
      skankin' all the way home. - 10/20/97

Simplicity, my child,
      will take you far in life.
and you drop your acid
      and lose your edge
of death that takes you
      over the edge of death.
look around and bring back a fairy tale.

So to say that existence is important
Is to say that death is ultimate
The ultimate destination of all of our
      travels and voyages and journeys and quests
Death: the word alone is beautiful
      and complete
Full of life and spirituality and
      authority over all; continuing until
Sleep: semi-permanent death to be
executed by dreams and dreams
by the awakening of our inner self
that cries out daily to the turmoil
of our minds, but instead we
drink coffee and think we have
once again fooled death

For a Friend of a Friend Whom I'd Like to Call My Friend
She won't let anyone light her cigarettes, but she keeps taking the lighted ones from me. I can't buy her beers because the bar won't even look at my childlike identification card, but if I could I would because she's got a nice look. The glasses make her appear innocent, but you see I've gotten a little more personal with her, like to the point of knowing what she did in the bathroom of the hotel with her parents within hearing distance. She told me she would like to, well never mind, she was probably not in her complete mind. - 12/28/96, 2:16am

I saw a sight I've seen before while seeing the first scene.
"You want to be free from your sorrow and give up on the joys of life by doing what?!?"
"You're a fuckin' crazy bitch. What the hell are you thinking?"
"Take your finger off the fuckin' trigger before I blow your g-d head off!"
"Now, drop the damn gun and turn around."
"Don't move you fuckin' bitch. I'll shoot you, I really fuckin' will."
Picks up the gun she's dropped.
"Come here, baby."
"I'll hold you till we can get you some place where they can help you."
"It's okay now..."
"Yeah right, asshole..."  -12/28/96, 1:47am

I looked into the eyes of the
      brown liquid and felt its
      warm hands massaging my insides.
I thought it would help to melt
      the sadness that was forming
      around my soul like ice - cold and impenetrable.
I remembered you doing the same thing
      and finding some solace
      in the same action so I ignored the warnings.
Now, ten years later I realize
      that the warmth is only artificial and
      that what I really needed was you. -12/25/96, 1:37am

Waiting with B at D (7-3-1) for whom knows when and where they might be coming from to here by air for us to see late this night in fog with lights dim from low clouds clotting the sky like mind over diversions she said would fill the mind of a hummingbird 3 ounces in weight, minimal height so door frames won't get in the way of tall dads with shouldered children too small to walk the city streets of this dark town we drove in earlier this night late dark no stars to guide the big silver bird, or was it superman that carried her here to our arms so we could carry her home or to bed to rest for tomorrow and the grind of coffee most familiar or to my sister's room where she runs her own wet bar under the sheets on the top bank of her too tall bed that's overused because the window screen's broken from my obsessive compulsive behavior of coming and going on the wings of mercy not shown to me or any of the other crazy fools who shave their heads and pierce their sensitive 2000 parts with dull needles and coarse quilting thread left over from the bee last week when we made her a wedding spread for her very unusual wedding of the same type you had never a year ago when we all flew to Denver for a paranormal encounter with the parental unit of the soon-to-be spouse with green stringy hair and crooked teeth once fixed by an ancient orthodontist for only spare change and free sex if sex was ever a free thing with no strings attached though a child's mittens should always remain connected to the coat so nothing gets lost in the snow bank that shielded our eyes from the blinding rage of the sun set too young to be of any use to the pilot bringing home the newborn child to the unexpecting parents wed at an unacceptable age. - 12/27/96, 1:24am

Don't run away
It can be difficult finding
      your way back
There's nothing else to say
      Don't fix it with words
      It's just...
How could you send that
      message
I like to think it
      I need to think it
Secondary to you
      Turn to you
Love, worship something
      like that
Use the superiority
If you don't know
      How much I love you
      Then you don't know
      Anything at all

blue
she is feeling blue not wearing blue but feeling blue    her mother told her to wear red    she wanted to wear green    not purple that has red    not orange that has red    not yellow that is too happy    green    it has blue it has yellow    but the blue overpowers the yellow in strength    therefore the mood associated is more blue than yellow    but really it is not either one but it could be    but it does not affect her like that    does it really affect her at all    no not really but it affects those around her then she has succeeded    that is the ultimate goal    to achieve this is to achieve power over all humans and human flesh    but is this really a power of product of a power of reason    but then again does it matter    it is a power however you look at it    black has more power than anything else    it has the power of control and circumstance    white has no power    some say that it has power over all that is good but that is a lie    good is not a power    it is what happens when one wears no color    when one has no other powers to overcome it    good is actually bad and bad good    this is why our world is the way it is today    bad    this way no one has to worry about being good and perfect and holier than thou because it does not exist    there    this is the solution to the question of the universe    but then again what is the question of the universe    it is blue

I know your name
I know your game
Black Jack Gum
Little Toy Guns
Talk Hard
So Be It
Love the world or leave it - written on the back of a black jack gum wrapper

HOSPITAL HALLS
I sat sided by glass, cold concrete at my back
I only knew four of the breaking hearts, and only one made mine break as well.
I've yet to know these cold white halls to be filled with my family in tears
I've seen their faces and held her crying body
I don't want to know this pain for myself.
It's hard enough to hold a crying soul.
I can only imagine what it's like to be the soul being held. - 03/11/97, 10:30pm

What does it mean to be a friend of mine?
It means commitment
To the grave
And as I sit at his grave, I wonder about his commitment. Was it to me or to himself? He never much was a man of words just actions looks and meaning. If you could decipher the look in his eye then you knew his secret and it was safe within the confines of your mind.
So you told him your secrets and he told others. Around they went like a joint around the circle passed to others for them to criticize and make that ever demanding judgement on you. You said to the grave and that's where his secrets will go because you know what it means to be a friend. Mine will linger and walk the earth like an unburied Greek, roaming around in other people's mind, candy for the brain - mental masturbation.
saved for a rainy day.
It rained the day they buried him; notice the connection. He thought he was God, but God is eternal and doesn't know what it's like to be locked in a coffin fighting for existence in a world of chaos and endings.
Endings like that of our relationship after that first explosive night when we met each other's souls face-to-face like a stand off between two duelers out for the kill. He won that time; he killed me from the inside out. Too bad he's dead - from the outside in...
I still have a chance of recovery. No bandaid can cover my wounds, but fresh air and a kiss or two can cure any hurt. Kiss away the pain and make the suffering end so I don't end up like him.
Because there is no one to sit at my grave and think about me and wish that it had never happened... - 12/08/94, 4:04am

Think on me. Lead me to the otherside. Strike a match and watch it burn. Down to your fingers the flame glides until the pain begins to set in and you notice a difference in your surroundings. There's no one left to tell you you're right, so you'll have to decide for yourself. The edges of the sun are just barely showing as night descends and you crawl away to the protection of your insides. Alter ego, alter pain. Why couldn't she stay away. She wants it our way, the world wants it another. Who's to decide the difference - the happy hunting ground. I was told to make the choice; you can only decide for yourelf.
That's where the problem is - inside of myself. A think I'm not in touch with and don't know a lot about. Can you diagnose me? Well which is it: rainbows or gloom. I'll be hiding in the top of that tree until you take me with you or leave without me. Does it matter if I'm different? I want to be like you. To play your game by your rules and either win or lose or die trying. Could it ever be that easy? Probably not, so I'll sit and wait and watch you frolic on the other side, joining you occasionally when you let me in. Keep the radar set and let me know if they're coming after me. When the time comes, I'll see how it goes. Maybe your way is better; then again, the grass is always greener on the other side. Too bad I've been there before, because now I konw that your side will always be greener and mine will now change daily like the tides - high, low, on, off. Who will the steady constant be?     -12/08/94, 4:23am

I've been asked to write political poetry
      What am I supposed to do - create a scene?
I'm already in enough hot water for things I never said.
      She alluded to lies and brought in my name. -01/22/??

As the sun slowly sets on this dry desert world so far from civilization, the dancing and singing move to rejoice around a bonfire that has sprung from the ground. It appears to have come from the depths of Hell. After much praise to the gods and celebration to man, the music quiets and flutes and wooden blocks have come to join the drums and rattles and voices already shreaking and shouting to the heavens.

My mind begins to wander and I want to slip on over to the other side. There is safety and security there among the familiar. Yet, the familiar is as unknown as tomorrow. Everyone wants to know tomorrow today because the unknown is so uncomfortable.

The tune passes through me as softly as it is sung. Her voice rises and falls in gently sloping curves as the piano notes tinkle in the background.
--------------------
The fan briefly cools my sweaty skin as it oscillates past me. The crickets keep time to the rhythms of nature as the full moon rises in the sky.
--------------------
I never thought that my existence could be this peace-full. My walkman cuts off and the music is silenced, but life vibrates around me as I drift off to sleep.    -10/04/95, 11:06pm

words escape a mind full of thought
a few tangled here and there in the cobwebs of the years
irretrevible, but reverently remembered
held at highest regards for the intelligence they knew and the greatness they were

kinds of conclusions
logical decisions
try the ways of the world
emotional nature
yield to the power
smile on the good days and hide on the others
crawl out of your soul and come walk with me
touch me, hold me, turn me on to you and yourself to me alone
displace the realm of reality
no longer abide by the rules of the mind
let the sould run free without restraint
love the one you're with
     -02/28/96, 10:45pm

Unknown soldier number 1
there are many more where he comes from
underground and far away
waiting for a better (rainy, sunny, perfect) day
calling out to those before
and those yet knocking on death's great door
fight for your country, give all you can
think only of your fellow man

beautiful moon
most unsympathetic
lend your light
never your warmth
      close your eyes
      and disappear
      come back maybe
      some other time
talk to me diana
tell me your tales
of love and life
and all of their mysteries
      lend me your ears
      and your sympathetic soul
      i will tell you
      the mystery of me

Have you ever had your heart broken by an angel?
The end comes so quickly that you never have time to see
      the good, the love, or any emotion.
You think it's there, the signs point to its existence.
But then suddenly, the heavenly document comes floating down
      declaring the end, before it began.
Angels are supposed to last forever, to stay there by your side.
Love, on the otherhand, or believed love is no better
      than unsubstantiated lust.
It ends, it's fickle, it can't make up it's mind, does it really exist?
It must exist, because it can be felt, primarily later, when it hurts,
      and you feel as if your life is over.
You would think that one would want to guard themself from
the love of any angel due to the differences of time and space
      but love knows no boundaries.
The world seems to buzz around you and wants to be let in;
Love closes out the world and allows the angels to play
      with mankind alone without strings.
Without death, the relationship becomes only a string
Tying the two worlds together with an unevitable chance of
      breaking severing not only the two lives, but two worlds.

The marker read,
                   1
          UNKNOWN
                 U.S.
            SOLDIER
Who lies beneath the dust here
      no one will ever know.
He lived, fought, and died for
      this country and our lives today.
Yet, we pass by this grave without
      even a glance at the ground.
He could be your father, brother, or
      son, or mine.
Who cried as his coffin was lowered
      into the ground?
Did anyone even notice when he fell
      and his head hit the ground?
Did he suffer; did he cry out;
      did he even know what happened?
I don't know his story or even
      his name,
But I noticed his headstone and wondered,
      and brought it to your attention.

lonliness...................and silence
the silence rushes in and quiets my bleeding soul it rushes in as if it had been waiting for this moment forever it covers me up like the sheets they use for the corpse at the scene of a murder the murder of my soul my heart my being the silence roars in so that i can hear nothing else but the silence filling my ears and my eyes with sights and sounds not meant for the human body to endure clogging the mainstreams letting nothing else enter into my soul my heart my bleeding soul tomorrow the shell will remain like the sheet covered corpse but nothing will fill the inside the aching inside that calls out for another human's contact touch me take away this silence fill my sould with meaning don't leave me here for another day i don't want to suffer that long it's too long -11/17/94, 8:51pm