Grieve for all
kindred spirits
as the beacons slowly go out,
their fires dying across the world
one
by
one.
3WW
•January 30, 2010 • Leave a Comment20100130 Poem Favouréd(s)
•January 30, 2010 • 1 CommentGot a few of these for you today.
First is by a fellow blogger I stumbled upon,
or rather by whom I was stumbled upon.
He’s rather great. Give him a look.
Death of a Poem
– Opoetoo
10 years on the blood trail
Of a gut shot poem
Sleeping by tainted indentions in leaves and grass
Dreams of its death – oh to put this thing out of my misery
No compassion for the beast
As it confounds me in red maple leaves
Camouflaging on the ground and
Swirling around my head in scarlet confusion
So thankful for the broom straw
Red tipped broom straw waving me on to victory
To the smell of death
Juxtaposed with
The pungent aroma of the taxidermist’s tight rubber gloves
Dreams of long talks ,smoke rising, interest increasing
A widow maker falls beside me and brings me back to reality
My left hand rusted solid to the lantern
My back permanently stooped
The trail leads down now
They always die by the water
Hopeful and wanting
Soon the leaves will fall again
Death by the water? Victory by the water?
A decade has passed when I find the beast
It falls two steps from the stream
It’s warm breath clouding
Rising into the red maple leaves
———————————–
Now some lovely Bukowski.
Consummation Of Grief
- Charles Bukowski
I even hear the mountains
the way they laugh
up and down their blue sides
and down in the water
the fish cry
and the water
is their tears.
I listen to the water
on nights I drink away
and the sadness becomes so great
I hear it in my clock
it becomes knobs upon my dresser
it becomes paper on the floor
it becomes a shoehorn
a laundry ticket
it becomes
cigarette smoke
climbing a chapel of dark vines. . .
it matters little
very little love is not so bad
or very little life
what counts
is waiting on walls
I was born for this
I was born to hustle roses down the avenues of the dead.
As The Sparrow
- Charles Bukowski
To give life you must take life,
and as our grief falls flat and hollow
upon the billion-blooded sea
I pass upon serious inward-breaking shoals rimmed
with white-legged, white-bellied rotting creatures
lengthily dead and rioting against surrounding scenes.
Dear child, I only did to you what the sparrow
did to you; I am old when it is fashionable to be
young; I cry when it is fashionable to laugh.
I hated you when it would have taken less courage
to love.
Bluebird
- Charles Bukowski
there’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I’m too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I’m not going
to let anybody see
you.
there’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I pur whiskey on him and inhale
cigarette smoke
and the whores and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks
never know that
he’s
in there.
there’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I’m too tough for him,
I say,
stay down, do you want to mess
me up?
you want to screw up the
works?
you want to blow my book sales in
Europe?
there’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I’m too clever, I only let him out
at night sometimes
when everybody’s asleep.
I say, I know that you’re there,
so don’t be
sad.
then I put him back,
but he’s singing a little
in there, I haven’t quite let him
die
and we sleep together like
that
with our
secret pact
and it’s nice enough to
make a man
weep, but I don’t
weep, do
you?
Drifter
•January 29, 2010 • Leave a CommentAway up in the
night sky
everything is grey and cool.
Mists sift past in front of you
and all you see is
pale and translucent.
Petering out clear and
dark at the edges.
Down here
in the real world
we are bathed in this
sickly yellow glow,
that hums gentle and ominous,
amplifying our hatred
and our love.
Make your choice.
Damp.
•January 29, 2010 • Leave a CommentI feel sick
with my head.
I feel sick
deep
within the recesses of my brain.
Running water through caves
and the incessant dripping
until nothing
could possibly ever be dry again.
The woe of it all.
Die-ku
•January 16, 2010 • Leave a CommentThey sealed your cervix
With a cauterising blade:
Your future is gone.
My-ku
•January 16, 2010 • 1 CommentPush your fingers through
The curls behind my head so
I can sleep at last.
Belonging
•January 11, 2010 • 3 CommentsTrace your hand’s shadow
in purple ink on the wall.
My life is complete.
Haiku for someone…
•January 11, 2010 • 3 CommentsTake off your glasses
and leave them on the night stand.
I think I’m in love…




Recent Comments