free verse

this alone is clear

pond_of_universe

enswathe me
with the leaf
of another name

if a violet flower
quivers like ornament

on the ephemeral rawness
of this earth
so a tiny poet

cleaves like thistledown
to the thin vastness

of the word

if it was genuine
my standing by the pond
weighing the quantity of universe

in these thoughts

if it was certitude
that clung as cascade
to the branches

of renewing blood

upon exiting the flesh
I thought unto death
to look back toward

this pallid clarity of ash

this has been important to me
to fling final words as anchor
in the hidden plethoric ;

time as billowing toward
some lambent exit

without us,
this alone is clear
all these residual things

will remain
spilled in darkness.

 

Contemporary Poetry

I have discovered nothing

the_outsider

I have discovered nothing

no potent spasm in truth’s tinge
no certain depth in writhing divinity

I have no enlightenment

no broad scar laid on the slope of thought
no electrifying branch igniting the empty length

I have not discovered any principle

no sinking song hardening the stone
no plaited temple wall where war reclines exhausted

I have no message

no filament of yarn towards Ariadne’s love
no hidden sarcophagus where suffering lies embalmed

I have discovered no primeval essence

no visiting visage vanishing vastly
no substitute for this sum of smoke

Contemporary Poetry

echo

draped_in_echo_21st_century_poetry

I have a bubble
of music
swelling inside:
the silent walls,
the cold
structures of silence.

It is a tiny
flame of sound,
a flickering leap
upon the smooth
slabs of concrete.

I saw the snow
today fall
like an army of silent
white deaths.

And I wanted
to join its
fragile thaw.

I feel.
A minor chord
aches,
yes it resonates,
inside a minor heart.

I pressed down
decadently on
the piano keys.

The dark is draped with echo.

 

 

Nihilistic Poetry

granite sleep

Wholeness Sleep

 

unable to wake

I remained

behind the ruin of a memory

 

a Chinese serpent

swerving in the currents

of my dormant eyelids

 

nothingness was a province

where an obsidian pyramid

stood against a starless night

 

there in bed

roving like a raving raven

within the

delicate depths of darkness

 

surrounded by

a deep moat –

the dark waters

of space

swallowing any ray of light

that may cross over

to my dispossessed eyes

 

lone

existing alone

light as perishable infancy;

heavy as a bridge above years

 

a statue

untying itself

from its surface

of imitation

 

so I squandered the imported

bullion of dreams

and with quivering fascination

became empty and
bankrupt

of image

 

unable to wake

I surrendered

like

a history

written on the soft

tissue of the spirit –

never to be

read.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nihilistic Poetry

 

from the urinal

pee poem

I’m a starry sky
staring down a urinal
yellow piss
but isn’t it cute enough
to be a golden stream of light?
I have a nose, mirror!
it’s sticking out my fucking face
I’m ruined
the candle is going out
and there is so much more drink
to saturate the clouds of my eyes
I’m at a part
ending this exercise
of absolution
chirp, chirp
a tongue on the roofs,
I have a fantasy
you see,
wet, damp like the grass
or the epiphany of flight
my lungs are tired
a mouthful of beer
to exist
and in some room,
to sleep.

Absurd (Drunken) Poetry

A chinese poem

chinese tree poem

The street light turned red
two raindrops rest on someone’s shoulder
 

a stream of cars down the slopes of noon
I and the minutes, parts of clouds


the far-away phone rings November
these business suits still smell of rivers


shadows born from high buildings
all is peace in a busy day.

 

.

Nihilistic Poetry