Non-prose

the caf [February 9, 2010]

lips lay leftover after lunch/an apple aflame in every aisle/finished flipping firey forks/your gravy glistens-glows grotesque/I’m impatiently impish in my mind/nimble nibbles numbly negate/the theoretic rhetoric running rampant/creating cuts, crisscrossing cleverly/leaving lumps lining limbs/what will water wash away?/after all, all is almost awful/a close call creates clarity

drain: movements 2, 2.5 [January 1, 2010]

The water has run dry, or time has been expended/steam suddenly replaces, the mirage of clarity/absence of pouring beckons the fog, rushes in and clouds the senses/drains invisible from such unsure heights, frantically grasp for focus/none comes easily, focus causes the pain blindness eases/first step outside the shower, chilling shot through the foot/the world outside the shower, unwilling to be ignored…forever/comfort of draining water, suddenly useless in a world of real/

why does pain scream loudest for attention/why is distraction so wrong in a world not right/what good is focus/how does the truth help/unless there is something worth seeing/something worth living for/

Caffine [November 13 1:22]

Like a tempest, convulses violently/A stirring and churning gaining strength/All my other thoughts and plan seem less real/This inner storm now seems more real/But my mind, though searching for an outlet/Can find no reasonable escape/I wonder at what will be brought to completion/By this gathering momentum…/My pen slows/My mind clears/And slowly I start to breath again//

An Excerpt [October 13 6:o4]

The poem creates/distance from me./ The farther the better./ Written words released,/ I continue./ If I stop to really think,/ truth cannot be far./ The last thing I need/ or want./ Routine come quick!/ “Real” please save me./ All my work is threatened/ by the fear of impending/ Truth.//

Yellow Shade [October 13 5:59 pm]

The lamp tries not to watch/As he confounds himself/The lamp only gives yellow shadow/No needed illumination/For the desperate young./ His search within himself/As futile as the lamp’s efforts/ How is he surprised?/ He’s never found anything/ But dissappointment and hate./ He looks around the hall/ Lacking courage to hurt himself/ He finds strewn yellow wall/ Traced back to the lamp,/ Wrings the bulb cruelly…/ snapped chord/ electric spark/ catches fire/ in his eyes/ watch lamp fall/ in a pile of clay/ shade for a gravestone./ The last witness-decimated./ The only one trying to help/ lays crumpled in a pile./ Effectively drowning in rage/ Hate subsides into routine/ He leaves without turning a switch.//

drain [September 28]

face down in the shower/ water sprays-each breath/ runs down sloping back/ from ribs into the drain

focus on the running/keep looking down/ empty thoughts/ drip into the drain

wet hair shields face from/ the bleak light above/ eyes avoid illumination/ look into the drain

outside glass doors/ bitterness and hurt/ here in the shower…/ focus on the drain

everything comes down/ all meets at this level/ what pounds against the body/ will fall into the drain

in here nothing conquers/ nothing remains above/ everything comes crashing, crashing/ down into the drain