In all the glory and divine
With every restless year to come
There is but one, this subtle kiss
Upon the lips of the one I love
Rise up and give it all you’ve got
Glimpses caught have now been gone
The love you have is the love you sought
For memory fades with every dawn
Posted in Poetry | Tagged love, romance |
I may regret this later, but I recorded a couple of my old spoken word peices from years ago. The first is Crow’s Flight, the second is called Catalyst.
I’m surprised I still have these memorized, and I hope to get some better recordings of them sometime. If you are interested in hearing the low-fi traditional-style [...]
Posted in Poetry | Tagged spoken word, video |
Run in the Sun?
The rhyme sounds fine
but its heat has me beat.
Update: Please see the addition to this poem below by Drunkengrass
Design Observer recently published a poem by Christian Bök, and it got me to thinking about the experimental poetry I used to write.
If you’ve done any digging on this site you may have noticed there is quite a lot of poetry. A closer look would tell you most of it’s more than a couple of [...]
Posted in Poetry | Tagged Christian Bök |
[after a sunset]
A cloud moved, the tail of it could not keep up. Faintly
pressing into sky slowly, like creeping Spring
and the crumbling of time between two fingers.
I saw a falling shade of blue, a Sycamore, and two
bats feeding on a shifting plague. They circled about without tiring and without pause, while nearby
birds sat silent until [...]
Posted in Poetry | Tagged nature, Poetry |
[For Chris Tolles]
Chiseling away at the fallen Solomon branch
atop a dry peak, sweat wiped
away with golden leaves. Crooked sunlight breaking
through the gap while I, the carver, force
an improvised monument to carry his
name with chrystal joy across the lake below.
He has walked across this water
before, whispering crowd. Eternally
unmoving, now moved, and after an hour
of [...]
Wine makes men merry
We eat but never are full
The sun sets again
The longer the jump
The longer the spree
The longer the absence will be
Squirrels seem to stage
Acrobatic musicals
While harvesting
Walking across pine
Mouth wet with juice of oranges
Eyes shaded by brim
