the universe is old

the photograph is not so old
as the universe

we stand in a circle, holding hands,
atop a mountain, at night

the photo of our circle
is a blue circle icon

as the wind barks at us
turns us to sand to blow

when the morning comes
we'll be standing smiling at the sun

the photograph will the be placed on a shelf
among other articulations of fate ( Read more... )

It's become tired and old, walking the same grounds
But to crawl to new would hang it out there too far
To cry and mold not a single thing into a portrait of the divine
Not interesting

What's worth novelty?
My hands hands hands hold hands hands hands
And it gets old it gets old it gets old 

A screep of handwind on front porch make it talk talk
A screep of hawkwork on overwhelm make it walk walk
I've got a head-wound, baby
I've got a head-wound, baby

My opinions on death are pretty sophisticated. My personal experience with death is very limited. I sometimes wonder if these facts are related.

Last October I went to this debate party. At some point during the debate the topic of healthcare came up and I forwarded the opinion that cancer medicine was a luxury and that, therefore, under pretty much ( Read more... )

I love that last thing I wrote and there is wind in the trees.

I love the shivering realization of possibility.

I have started rock-climbing and I love that. 

What, to be inspired, by a word or a touch on the cheek, is there a burning?

A criminal sits on the shoulder of the thin wood road, sits in the burning red dust, sits scratching at his collar, sits and shifts uncomfortably, from time to time, sways from side to side. His name is his own and his waiting. Around nightfall a powder blue truck comes ( Read more... )

A father, David, his son Minus, daughter Karin, and her husband Martin are sitting around a dinner table in the Swedish countryside. We can see their house a few meters away ( Read more... )

Somewhere in Thailand someone died, just now. Did you hear about Morakat? Wait, but did you also know that my commute home was over two hours, today? When there's a Giants home game it takes much longer.  And just now I was wondering if all my thinking, ever, was for nothing, so. But also there's a recession, apparently. Maybe thousands or millions ( Read more... )

I want poetry, recently.

I watched "Through a Glass Darkly."

It was like some kind soul sat beside me and touched my face,
as if, for a time, someone else existed in this world.

I want truth, recently, vulnerability.
I read poetry and most of it isn't true, it's not saying anything.
It misses the point.

Naive truth is not truth.
Truth that misses a ( Read more... )

Through my Infinity Language Project I have discovered the true meanings of Pain and Pleasure.

Now all doors are Open to me.