friars in motion

The Mirror at 34

2007-06-11T19:12:00.000-07:00

yesterday
looking for love... i kissed a poet
and all his words turned to ash
filtering through my fingertips
we all came to feel the heart
bleed
but left only licking plexiglas
hiding in daylight's glare

i stood on man-made stone
looking for thought
but it had been kidnapped...
taken to the mitten's left side
where Jesus means "no"
and love is manufactured into
hatred

how
did all these people get in my room
when i'm pinned full of stripes
linked to my cuffs
necked to my tie
and brain-sheltered by a stingy brim
remember
when bourbon held answers

i wrote the world a love letter
but forgot they raised the postage
always a quart short
spited and unrequited
thirty four years since i escaped
ignorance

he lost on a really easy word
innocence
the nightly news just couldn't
believe middle schoolers no longer
knew how to spell "it"
did someone say burban?

i'm done
with playing blind man's bluff
with searching
and tricking myself with disdain
for answers...
question question question
and every once in a while
listen

she put all her love in a thimble
and washed my trouble
using only that gift
...it was a giant-sized thimble

in my twenties
i ducked and ran from truth
i just now compassed back
no 0ne but myself to blame
did someone say inosense?

today
i've found joy instead of happy
letting go the reigns
i kissed the heart
tasting
iron in the blood
thought in the brain
love on the skin
and
extraordinary from existence

--el vikingo

braides

2007-06-08T09:01:00.000-07:00

1. j.

I’M ALL OUT OF GLUE

Crumbling to pieces all out of glue

open the door here comes the cold

it’s now time in Detroit

don’t cut yourself on the broken hearts

stone faces are smiling

they call for repentance

but I can’t afford the cover and a Pabst

Broke in nine spots all out of glue

what holds the world together

once the duct tape dries out

I’ve got trouble in my eyes

and sour on my tongue

why aren’t the flags upside down

what ever happened to outrage

Can’t find Zu Zu’s petals all out of glue

her toes were painted silver

when the times were good

now even her smile looks like a frown and

everything she owns fits in a crumpled brown bag

a happy fuck you christmas

Water seeping through the cracks all out of glue

erosion of the soul

time bitters all things to the nub

I’m gonna drink with the devil

on the Day of the Dead

try to speed up the process a little

Ripped at the seams all out of glue

Fear on my skin

a loaded gun’s not trouble

like one that’s been emptied

the moon’s a hard target to miss

and no one really notices new holes

I’m all out of glue

all out of glue

got no glue

2. r

All out of glue

It dried up

or maybe wouldn’t stick

pieces were dirty

Maybe it was never meant to be held together

but touch like a long kiss before breaking apart

into 61 mirrors

running down the stairs

puddling in a footstep

snagging a gum wrapper

On a green wind pulled above behind a plane

a sign: teach me to blow a bubble

Then making a lazy arc, the other side:

no not like that, one that wont break

Tar poured into a boat to keep the water out

It stuck

the dart

only the bulls eye melted

sinking into the sea

From the shade mending nets,

"They used to use fish skins to make glue,

it wasn’t snakes I don’t think

there goes one now"

Like a pillow to a bird undone

my gaze made to hold

only

passing near

statues of passengers on the platform

flowers falling from the last car.

Worse than missing

is forgetting

until sharing with all you never thought to remember

she returns

on her own

like she came

a surprise

for which you have to wait

while feeling more alone than before

3. j

61 mirrors and i can't see myself

tried all tricks and smoke

never at the proper angle

so i'm gonna run barefoot on this concrete

until my feet find some grass

and i'll dance at the moon

to stain my feet green

leave grassy footprints all over her rooftop

while she wonders about all that racket

i'll hitch a ride on plane smoke

and drop into the stillest blue sea

shatter all reflection

4. r

Today's Voodoo

Her face is blue and it's hard to tell what she's thinking looking back at the sky.

A chimney sweep on call pulled breadcrumbs out of a winged stack planting a row of smoke as it passed above.

When it rained one drop, a jailhouse prism, who promised to come back around, mill about the yard when we talk about what brought us here.

Until then the nights, when left to ourselves, come and go, holding back the tears, anxious horses at the gate, the fix waiting on the odds to limbo knee high to the fourth of July, harvest moon, divine almanacs, her only record played again.

The ballerina cloaked in sparks, named shapes, the most proximate edge of infinity tenderly plays chicken with a slide trombone, the ventriloquists' stand in who's rehearsing the hollow cry of naive darkness falling to a more innocent revolution.

And then there is that picture the one drawn of the moon, before the one of the catapult, the last one before the shadow started dancing in the trees saying everything spilled its own color bleeding its own perfume. And we got a box full of spares for when the sun gives out, again.

And I have been called to testify because I know that mirrors don't lie only multiply even when they are but seeds, reaching, looking at each other, yet never seen together; they must be the same, only one in disguise: river wearing at the rock, sea casting up the beach, the butterflies and snowflakes in orbit as we come up for air, baptized in calamity, the ever present new, today's voodoo, 61x12.

5. j

the moon is hiding

but i know all her favorite spots

she's holding back her fears

but if you whisper loud enough it becomes a scream

crows on a wire outside my window

they bicker back and forth:

"I know where the moon is!"

shouts the littlest black bird

"She found a better earth to smile on."

"Don't be ridiculous!"

croaks the lion crow

"She's up on trial for murder,"

"they found her with a gun."

the little girl in 32b is crying for her mother

she knows how to find the moon

but can she keep her secrets safe?

the crows crept in my kitchen

exhausted all my bourbon

the lion crow has got a gleam

"Take us to that little girl moon"

"We hear her cry calamity!"

alone again

the crows tip-toed into the hallway

that little girl never heard them coming

in my kitchen at the window:

the moon is back

she's been acquitted

there's no more man in her

just a little girl who never cries

6. r

Crows call over carrion, dancing dark wells, ponds with out fortune, luckless reflections starving for a drop of milk. Stranded cobwebs fumbling for keys to unlock the tethers, its wheels skirting red lights, sirens with their own rhythm, sincerity intermittent.

Stuffed perches full of sleeping doves. In full fabulous a glow behind a cloud, with out a name a steady knife bleeding the night of its wolves hunting from hallway corners. The devil pants from an empty glass that could drown the happy longing to morn. A so dark feather called tumble, others flight.

The moon if you must know is a hungry eye of a giant staring up from a frozen lake looking for the hole into which it fell calling out marco, the crows polo. Sweeping a dirt floor, rising, then, good enough, given up for dead. Ghosts line the bridge with flickering prayers to Icarus while gravity gnaws below and the breeze looks to raise a chill.

The floor creaks, lost pennies between the boards. The hurting makes no more sense. Doors open and close. People hang up hats, put them on again. The crib becomes a toy, becomes the heart- an invisible shield battered, a ball leaking its air, a timid river under the night, but tomorrow with more heat, the last drop’ll go- the rocks will crack opening to a new treasure, the memory of a dinosaur once so grand it knew not fear, all other creatures cowered in its shadow of unhealed wounds- until it went to sleep weeping- so alone, its jaws relaxed, and dark feathers became its blanket.

7. j

Blue Brook/Red Rapids

Lips moving without a sound

the bank of my skull

is filled with elevator small talk

I don't remember how to ask for anything

I put all my prayers in a dumbwaiter

sent them up to God

they should reach him by the next century

if the lines don't give out

I lost a bet with a horse

he said the reason I work long hours is:

expensive shampoo and detergent that really gets the filth out

looks like I'll have to eat some crow

What do sheep count to make them sleep so innocent

doves circling overhead with a pearly gleam

they're sick and tired of stumping for peace

oily feathers stick together

Hurt makes me want to go and hurt

and I have a mandate of hate from the masses

I have chipped talons and a bloody beak

the peace blue brook turning to red rapids

8. r

the guerrilla (el guerrillero)

the thing is I don’t know who to hate

man, woman, who ever started this all

so I wait

I've set an ambush

and I wait

at night I don't light a fire

in the day I don't move

my face is painted into the background

i listen for the lies

watch for the gestures

ready my rifle

looking through the sites

but I've seen too much

i don't know if I can tell the difference anymore

so i ask

even if it’s just one of you

warn me

when you are about to be cruel

i am here to help

the clouds roll in

the rains will pass

i see a flower blooming

it reminds me of the butterflies

my grandmother told me about

when i woke up from a bad dream

9. j

The Guerrilla Turns His Cheek

Check out the resolve

in the eye of the butterfly

as it flutters amidst the ruin

Calamity does not slow the wing

Fear does not dampen the color

Death does not stop the soul

Beauty will shine

Love will roar

and I will laugh again

10. r

novembers

slide off garage tops

i remember a sinking duck

while the sea waited

fingertips resist in fists

scissors alone near shadow puppets

leaning in trees

i remember the question well

“what do you mean by better?”

while we talked of bullets

they gave me only one to chamber

teaching me not be careless

i trembled in bed thinking the war had started

and death would not discriminate

i awoke in a world still breathing

and they excited me with the threat

of a toothless whore

& i got lost

the knife

pulled the needle

of the compass

where it wanted

along a diminishing stream

quiet through the snow

11. j

toes wiggle in grass

ever sure of their footing

what do we learn from the gone

tie a shoe

skip a stone

catch a fish

all things turning color

never straining the eye

where do we go from here

take a job

find a love

bring a child

sun heat on the skin

chasing the pale away

how did we get this far

stole a dream

rode a star

broke a promise

feet now in the water

no turning back

why do birds sing

stole a fish

catch a dream

broke a love

this can't be November

12. r

the last night alone

i hold it in my hand

but I wish I was holding her.

dreams disappear with the light

and the past could belong to anyone

maybe will get picked up by a big jacket carrying a new spiv

the last night alone

the river flows to the sea

but I wish it would be so easy to get to her, then no

dreams disappear with the light

and the past could belong to anyone

or just lay there abandoned

the last night alone

what’s the future but now forgotten?

and I wish she could be here so much as to let her out of my sight

dreams disappear with the light

and the past could belong to anyone

a lost fish, a mute star

the last night alone

before she comes

and she will hold my hand

and I’ll tell her,

"Dante found a bigger world,

while if left only with the smaller

would have committed suicide",

and take her to see the factories

13. j

He is joy

his love to be joined

cancel the black

inspiration in his fingers

hurting the nails

heart-pain transformed

a flower drinking rain

beauty not to be seen

but felt

He is joy

held within her hand

cancel the cold

glory in his skin

thrilling the soul

all lack erased

a new sprout finding light

beauty not to be spoken

but tasted

He is joy

no more to be alone

14. r

wondrous rush of wind through cattails

show the hill beyond

that’s sun in your hair

that raindrop, the one I told you about

it hit the tree here, then slid down

to this spot on the ground

it’s wounded

warm breathing from just the other side of the tall grass

who moves?

15. j

i cannot escape beauty

on my shoulder

though i'm in the ditch

on my hands

through useless toil

at my skull

when evil lurks within

at my heels

even when i flee it

tiny reduced tiny

walking the hills

and valleys of a

single yellow rose

feet never tire on

petals

heart and mind flow

out of the blood

out of my mouth

drenching my path

letting me slide

i want to ask my father

how he came to marry

science to God

heart of gold

and mind of steel

ah the splendid glory

in all my numbered hairs

they never question why

they never ask for more

they only seek to leave me

crossing glades and rivers

walking to the sun

dropping from this golden bulb

floating back to earth

i break my harsh fall

on a single yellow rose

16. r

on a footpath

a window filled with flames

opens

accepts

blood

gold

and

hair

17. j

feet fixed on tremendous rock

not on porous hope

a flame with scores of tiny windows

each opening to

truth

love

possibility

and failure

18. r

the flames jump out

licking the face

looking inside

saints shovel coal through the eyes

keeping it burning

the heart

19.         j

and so i burned my heart

harder and faster everyday

i embraced my folly

and drank it down quickly

by the time i reached thirty

the needle hit 'E'

i had no more left to give

i stayed that way for a season

now i spot a filling station

up ahead on the left

20.         r

rocks in flight

dashing through turbines

tumbled into place

with wide gaps

the long line

laid without mortar

21.         j

water mixing with

soil, cement, skin

no glue

to stick us together

skipping along

a smooth rock dancing

from one tragedy

to the next

a wry smile about my mug

they'll never really break me

i'm waterproof

22. r

i held that hand, but who led?

now, what is in between?

bewilderment, longing...

my heart blinks

is that a diving board?

the pieces absently left behind come back

the what I at one time thought was everything

never belonged to me

and tomorrow

what I now know

won't be mine either

the creaks, the moans, the blind spots

next to the crates of polite and mysterious destructions

faces and phantoms

restless and roaming

return as well

but their elevator isn't there

when the doors open

23.         j

the sun is blinding off the snow

just like her memory

it is cold

i stepped through the door

and found no floor

now my feet are soaked

and my head is sweaty

january in detroit

24.         r

with riding boots and a red chair

i rushed her absent face

the end is the place to begin

for what could have been

across the chimney smoke

the outline of a pigeon

25. j

been shuffling for miles and miles

faded brown boots worn clear through

the air is wet around here

when i finally reached her tower

vacancy was the only trace of her

and so i stumbled back again

to cracked pavement and black snow

there the creature lay:

matted feathers gray and white

broken beak and twisted neck

melting into dark plowed snow

a man with thirty voices and two red eyes

said, “that pigeon’s name is Chester!”

...just another song about a bird

26. r

unto the creatures vacancy

the bars squinted and fled at the sound of a mongoose dragging a plow

slipping into the wounds that lay fresh on a once frontier she wore as her smile

her bare swish of sighs, peeled laughter, bark of skin surges

the drifting siege approached its reward, driven to the lilac sea brougham

fingers of dry lightening- hand in a toaster, migrations through an empty yoke

lips a hundred times heavy with mangrove sultry hibiscus

coughed onto the still ice

head in a bag of bad air, the idle remainder

hung on the hanger of my mute furnace

27.         j

WHAT I LEARNED YESTERDAY

I learned to breathe bad air

heavy scented with the taste of chalk

It's all about the adjustments

mix and match lungs and the geometry of skin

If I think of her as a triangle

then it doesn't matter that I'm so square

I learned to speak with a dry mouth

caught in the throat and clipped

It's all about the will

mix and match syllables and the cost of thought

If I think of her as a word

then it doesn't matter that I don't know the

language

I learned to walk on the sea

ever shifting and frothy

It's all about faith

mix and match gravity and the law of Neptune

If I think of her as a fish

then it doesn't matter that I'm drowning

Shard Cheddar Begins group 1)

between darkness and tomorrow is a parting shadow

her attitude was just a reflection

the grey line up on a tree after a flood

bark like skin clinging to bones in a bathtub

ball bouncing in an ice cube

our worlds frozen with fear in our throats

eyelashes and moustache, warm shower to cold air

scorched moonlight

that peels right off the skin

in a moment, all lost

the sun is a camera flash, days our picture

time is irrelevant outside this bar

None of the keys fit

the tumbler won't turn, it's to get out not in

focus of the eye won't help you here

smoke and rain mix to make a velvet blanket

Hello was her engine and goodbye her gasoline

i blinked and she left me on an island

i knew who i was the first time you said my name

all else washed clean away in the fury of your eye

i knew who i was the last time too

miss covers the brain... heavy

you gave me back my body but the gift was meant to keep

now i'm a stranger in my own skin, looking for directions

an empty suitcase after a long flight

i recall just a trace of your mornings

i play your part and dress

Braidios continued

28.         j

plastic over my eyes

i didn't count the cost

letting go by littles

rather than at once

hang on saint jude

all causes are not lost

Sun painted sidewalks

ready to skin the arms

of careless kids on bikes

Pink painted toes

and sour iced lemonade

chase the ill away

and float down Spring's river

29.         r

white caps have changed direction

southern wind

i'll never sleep again

Charp Shedder (group 2)

4.

i am too proud to have only been born

time is my country... my peacock love

Centuries held in my breath... waiting to be told

my cloud is lion fire with ocean feathers

blue, white, orange, and green

seen through the trees by lightening

the river's tail holding the horizon

sky and earth blur to form my path

byways marked as rising

North was somewhere i forgot... and so

i’ll jus ride wit da sun ta get my orientation

Centuries held in your breath... waiting to unfold

hands flecked gold from handling wings

head and blood thinned from this altitude

warnings- the myopia of forgetting, the lights obscure stars

but your course in not drenched in limitation

of the rather lived pug-whistles

North was somewhere you remembered... and so

...exhale

Braided continued

30. j

blue days for gray rain

slipped and hit my skin

can't get out from under

all this heavy love

breathing all the better

dry lungs and clear skull

metal on metal

rock on rock

skin on skin

fear on fear

like things shouldn't collide

31. r

out on the ocean

there is a fire

burning on the surface

in the heavens

the cool emptyness of space

inside sound, the silence

in its proportion

land heaving to

ajusting its forever

32. j

i went back to the junkyard

tried to buy back yesterday

thought i had fair value

gave the man forever

all he gave me was today

33. r

heart knows its not fair

my rotting peach

attracting bees and other wings

ants come up the table legs

to eat without delay

will the pit behind

return an orchard

34. j

traded gravity for other wings

scratched the sky with stretched fingers

a little blood crept through

and washed away my innocence

science and faith... a potent cocktail

can't fit my crimson fingers in my head

can't fix my useless feet on solid rock

can't find a place for all this knowledge

35. r

i will be rich

gave my soul to a bird

so when it returns

i will know flight

the bird sings

and was eaten

for its meat

feathers fell away

36. j

the feather fell away

washed in the chopped river

what is it under that surface

trying to punch free?

stealing all it touches

delivering free of charge

i'm here with lucky buoyance

deconstructing all the waves

just like lovers under covers

37. r

i own my right foot right

my left foot left

they walk the plank

and i dive

i dive

my hands first

my feet last

and i plunge

38. j

can't remember when

i decided to dance

all the way across the tightrope

the joy of dancing

replaces the fear of falling

i twist my heart to find:

the wounds

the gaps

the skips

all the instances covered in ignore

all the glories turned to ash

never forget!

all failure starts with success

and fear should never motivate

39. r

i had a shield

a covering

una cascara

and i begged

to have the breast plate

split open

so the heart was the first skin

the nose

of the comet

40. j

solid water

night sky in my veins

determination shatters

beg for the light

here comes thunder's cousin

41. r

stars -holes in the umbrella

lightening -leaks

radiance in puddles -shining back

lovers gazing at each other

across a table

42. j

1000 kisses in your blink

shaking all the earth

splash around in love

then hang me on the line

to sponge in all your breezes

43. r

is this land hollow

a piñatas insides

ricocheting flames

and pierced by arrows

falling to pieces

but never rubble

always filling

but never full

butchers tides

lovers strikes

hands two

heart one

the earth would be round

even if it wasn't

in such a hurry

to be all at once

SHRPCHDDR (group 3)

green fear, red hands, and a serpent's soul

i want to hang my halo by Emelda's tounge

and my sorrows around her porcelain temples

wrap us for a journey into the pyramids of a tokyo hotel

slippery walls... dark with forgiven sin

dark with love's tender flakes

It was ten years ago she walked through that door

made balloons in the shape of animals

with her poison eye and her tricky hands

her talk of redemption

shook the tiny instruments in my ears

turned my path into the sun

singed my fingers on her olive skin

and made thunderclaps sound of song

Li Mo was just a kid but he already lived 100 Years

he was self winding and growing into an Oldsmobile

fast, sturdy, comfortable... just like his sister, Emelda

from down on Millpox corner

where spring is orange, summer golden

and strangers are kin

but Li Mo had a bigger secret to impart

Li Mo was a toad

hopping from place to place forging his sister's will

securing letters of introduction from the animal kingdom

for Emelda was to marry in the morning

again, this time to a butterfly's defensive splendor

and I knew my time with her would be short

losing each other in the night

Red fear, green hands and a sister's soul
silence- the nearer edge, breathless claws
scratching the skin on the brink of joy

caboose pulling the scabs, the wincing leap

over the falls and under the landings

44. j

o to be fierce
hot like concrete in august
breathe under water
and carry the world
dance like ginger
and sing like frank
pocket the sun
and glow in the dark
temper the rage of nations
and drink up all the ocean
i'll give you
all the
answers
shatter all the earth
dream
with your eyes open

45. r

I thought
just as well
someone has to
and said "thanks"
for the offer
of more
lumpy gravy
but you see
I have had all
the lumpy gravy
I can stand

the sun melted
the ice off my eyes
then the sun
left me for darkness
and I slipped
on the frozen puddles
into an ocean
of sharks like me
who carry and nestle
with delicate flowers
in the deep
where we swallow
the reflection of stars
and dream
forever dream
of a surface
not broken by rain

46. j

the cold sun blistered

my warm ocean and

i forgot how to fear

my inclinations gathered

i decided this

cast off what is thrust upon

dance when there

is no moon

laugh with

tears in your mouth

love against

all this world's

hatred

i decided this

47.         r

yes

all there is

is yes

but then

but then

locusts

they dream

from eggs emerge

showers of

sodden nets

your right

always right

there is more

to an ocean than water

there are boats

that floating

does wonders

for the surface

that

the bottom

the bottom

wants to rise

to reach

to clutch

to avenge its heavy curse

but that it is

dancing

that enters the sky

that

it's laughter

that is weightless

that it is love

that heals

what the world brings

it brings

begging light

forgive me

me

but i'm scared

that freedom

is a trick

with sharp bones

and

they'll know

it's been stolen

48. r

this morning
i had a dream of a tartan girl
in warriors dress
who asked me to sit on her lap
and in parenthesis i saw the words
(prelude to a marriage bed)
ha

49. j.

last week i dreamed

you and i were walking

along a river bank (i think

the wrong way) cause all

the natives (don't know

where they were native to)

were walking the other

way... you kept diving

in the water then

i woke up 'cause nora

moved or something

but what were you doing

in the water all that time?

50. r

you know
a river
is only
what's between
the source
and the sea

51. j

the constant motion made my skull spin

1000 negativities trapped inside 1 YES

life now with water ballooning both my lungs

the earth looks just like sky from way down here

a curse on all Warmongers

they never taught me how to fly... just spoke again:

love is for heels

my mouth expelling like a river

i'm a statue called Achilles

astride a golden fountain... sunflowers in my eyes

they splash they leap they swim they slither

i've turned them all to toads

52. r.

long time toads
transformed by a spell

statue of a man
once a god

decades of broken wings
blown to the ground

a thousand thieves sinking
no trace into the night

the marks of the war
for love
kill or be killed

“hold me”
he tries
she tries
to say
“i am my underneath”
in a red puddle
between distant shores

53. j.

I would have lurched forward

out of these staining waters

had i the sand

the ability to take a life by force

but the sinews are so wrapped

along my outer skin and

trickling between each rib

of my heart's cage

holding my shoulder to my arm

and my arm to my shoulder

flowing in my disrupted bloods

and dancing in my brain's television

so much so

that i can't decipher importance or grief

flowers painted gray overthrowing love

i would have soared forward

out of these freezing waters

had i the fervor

the ability to give my life by grace

but the fingers are so twisted

sidewalks can't form the chords and

skyscrapers forgot the words

of my heart's rage

blocking the sun from my eyes

and my eyes from the sun

the empty lot's a skipping record

repeating in my brain's phonograph

so much so

that i can't find the right song

to turn the roses red again

54. r.

my soul is made for combat
wins with every breath
on a wire strung
between fire and wave
a length of heart cord
walked in wooden shoes
with coal miner eyes
and swollen tounge
eager
and happy laughing
with a shotgunned
spagettied chest
wounded
and walking
along a wire
strung between fire and wave
bathed in the blood of the sun
boyant in the glow of the moon

55. j.

i was built in the seventies

iron, steel, and glass

from science and music

religion minnesota

and coal pennsylvania

i was built in the seventies

dropped down from the moon

landing in a field of gasoline flowers

don't remember how to break

just plug me in and juice my soul

i was built in the seventies

i'll never be obsolete

56. j.

CLOCKS

sometimes the moon gets in my skin
and i can't remember tomorrow
only what it will bring
then it all seems to shift
like plate tectonics and divine
inspiration
i gather up my pack and sing
while the road is open
and my burden unheavy
all time leads to avenues
more or less traveled and
the tips of my fingers burn
as i turn the hands counter
so as to move forward

57. r.

CLOQ

so as to move forward
my pockets fill with wind
my arms are set wide
and my hard drive is full
but its my clock that runs slow
keeping random time
as icicles don’t melt
but perspire
where as, it's the moon that keeps its cool
visits all the nicest places
while its best friend warms the avenues
and by-ways during the day
and in case, there is night
there are lights
that warm people far away
and warm me
seated on the melting wind

58. j.

there's a curve in the air

disrupting visions

i can taste the salt in the sky

and the rain on my shoes

the sun is gray and bitchy

and the soup's gone tepid

but way back in the corner

(just out of view)

pipe dreams turn to reality

love settles on the foreheads

and birds aren't the only ones

who can fly

59. r.

The wind comes mostly from the west—fact.
The water settles in the lowest of places.
The sun paints the surface warm.
And at night the sky escapes.

Yet still some birds get lost,
happy in between,
weighing on the wires.
And I’m glad we’ve all emerged
from the hollow shell of winter.

Corners are straightened by perfume.
And the eyelashes of the least bit green
wave and tangle
reaching for open windows.

And those stale framed scenes from offices
are pitched on the fire.

Dinosaur footprints
Laugh forgotten flags.

Even the concrete dances
Buckles to display its stains.
Every bit a broken shell.

60. j.

i am quitting breakfast

smooth rain running

over rough glass

i am quitting breakfast

rough thoughts searching

over smooth legs

i am quitting breakfast

say hello to the day for me

61. r.

rough telegraph

peppermill balloons
belching under
clouds on the run
soft expiration

wet newspaper
stuffed in the mouths
of bulls
sea foam blood
gasping collapse

a frayed extension cord
dangled
down a drain
arm wrestling a fuse

my money
a rubber hammer
an ironing board
used to surf

I quit breakfast
and the no use mutilation
and roosters
flash frozen

a day
fairly named: piñata
needing
a clear the bleachers
hello

62. j.

i never got the message

lines gave way to

shifts and cracks along

surfaces used for standing

with all the lights of treason

championing my imperfection

i had to guess

what it was you wanted

what it was you needed

what it was you gave away

a whispered word and

touch along the shoulder

an apology from deep

inside my guts

a length of rope long enough

to tie our hearts apart

i read it in the news today

you skipped for the other coast

63. r.

there is a chill that blows through space

between electric poles and telegraph

lines stretched over the Marianas

trench where dough-boys wait for

the whistle calling them into no mans

land

sorry comes in a deck

its never enough

of cards with girlies

to be a turtle

on the back

stepping slow

look out—there are cities

why doesn’t anyone believe me

Civilizations-rules of proper distance

bees playing at it with the flowers

stars in nights of pain and broken

light, cold as tombs

hoot owls sharing a pint

between trains

64. j

inside out &

born to an end

the morning

spewed me out

of her hot mouth

just like the good

Lord

& faith luke-warm

now i have sulfer

on my tongue

& it's hard to talk

about this and about

that

when all the world hurts...

this afternoon:

laughter

65. r

genuine

dizzy genuine,

i am going to die

in the morning's beak

it will spit me

out severed

or swallow me whole

to sing some dark pasty trigger

happy grumble quake

my's guts is o'er loaded

magpies within and magpies without

flying into the face of the sun

like matches

whispering in petrol's bloom

i'm inside out

dizzy genuine,

being born

66. j

i wanted to live free of this

trade technology for dirt

and never be clean

i've pasted laughter all over my skull

and i can't find that genuine smile

at the bottom of a pint

or a turn of Lorca's verse

i've sent out letters and mumbled prayers

trying to slip between

the darkness and the light

i can feel the end in every nerve

but tomorrow is all beginning

and belief is always tardy

don't know when i hopped this train

but my brain now starts to dizzy

every stop a bigger gamble

i'm afraid to jump off

67. r

crickets swallowed razor blades
while their milky blood spread over the moon
and cobwebs crept up a blanched egret
that peered down through the surface skim of algae
waiting for the resplendent fish to blink
and give away the vault
i dropped between their wounds
and started to dig
with a pick i broke through my teeth
and wearing a carbide lamp i dropped down my throat
i hid behind my heart when i sparked the charge that blew apart my guts
i climbed down through the bits and spread my map out over the twitching pulp
i knew it should be just ahead
but in the way that you know things that happen only once—i felt myself dying
i'd come too far, was too close
"gravity help me" i leapt into the echo
the wind whistled over my ears
i'd always been mute before beauty
suddenly the cold crept up my limbs
and i was done before the bottom

68. j

that cricket lives near

the outer edge of my left ear

after a while

you don't even notice the chirp

my heart forgot the patterns

to decipher the difference

between gravity & beauty

both cause a falling

with no never mind of a landing

i looked at the map

but felt a bit dumb

i stopped having faith in cartographers

the day i got lost in my skull

chirp

i was hoping to start the journey

but i can't find my shoes

i think i left them far chirp behind

stuck in chirp the mud at the age of 7

chirp but chirp to take a step chirp

now is chirp all chirp chirp chirp

chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp

chirp

69. r

there was an inkjet picture of a parrot

scotch taped to the electric meter

between deep shelves stocked with various paprikas

spinning—thirty three about and a third—the dial

chirp and chirp

and chirp

while two men (one in suspenders

of yellow elastic yard sticks)

talked from their registers

about how Honda special editions

got the same keys

and his was driven away

by mistake last night

men, enough like me

the colored bird too

chirp and chirp

a face on an appetite

i imagine them

all, us, any two, separating

the bird away in the dark

leaves fluttering down a stream

and strangers fondling

strangers keys

the earth squeaking round

smeared over with halogen

and sobbing shadows

stones

who feel as much as me

these footprints

can only be followed

maps

back from where they came

myself

or memories

dwindling free

the year, grim born, sharpening it's permission

dead Leopaki's daughter

is still next week giving herself

to California

we, us diamonds, broken from a larger pain

scatter

scatter apart

called forward

courageous

mutinous

trembling

the ocean heard in the hollow shell

is our own

and appropriate

Niagara

my hands warm

pink

flush with life

reach

70. j

as the sea began to snap

i started the conversation

hello bird...

you seem a bit shy

i've never had the courage

to fly

i take these steps into

a forever of tomorrows

and my shoulders are sore

flinching

you seem a bit shy

my eyes only ever saw 'till nightfall

never on to morning

what's it going to take to make this right?

71. r

it’s me again
outside’s behind some windows
sun’s behind clouds, partly
willing
birds
i heard them earlier
wouldn’t normally have looked
honestly, whatever
all this nature
has nothing to say
except as fingerprints
leading back in the wrong direction
later there were geese on the lawn
i saw that one’s neck
was longer than another’s
mostly thought about them
as food
noticed how now its normal
not strange
that some stay
throughout the year
and that i have a name
a past reflected in the glass
well worn with separation

72. j

it's me again

looking for time

outside this skin

the glass is cold

only when it's touched

i thought the sun was warm

was i right?

i've left 1000 times

how is it that the journey

always ends right here

eyes a bit sadder

shoulders a bit stronger

soul a bit sleepy

when i've hidden my heart

i talked to the songbirds...

it's this plague of humaness

that really gums my wings

take-offs were always worse

than landings

73. r

high in the thermals

gliding over the sea
under faces soul between
fire licked skin
mad flapping wings
shovels of love
pitched at the breeze
city of veils
frozen tears of glass
death shattered light
grinding eyes black
these stones that filled
my pockets are free

74. j

free

like falling forever

branches scratch

face

neck

shoulders

i know secrets

that hurt my heart

and make my brain

small

i placed all this trouble

deep in my pocket

with little coins

old receipts

a forgotten fortune

& tiny yellow flowers

trouble likes to hide

75. r

What’s that, so sharp a light,
the sun, as if one wounded eye
makes them both wince,
as the day is divided in two?
Feeling, fondling… a stone...
no... a snowball, melting
like memory, as if
its a puddle below
reflecting up
while shadows sink deeper
and light filters in from above
between the dark footprints of night;
as if losings were stars,
feelings blurred in other lights.
But all the while,
I’ve a body like a cradle
whose combination, like roots,
is locked in the vault of earth—
perfect,
brief,
and darkly mingled.

76. J,

perfect... brief...

i've pinched myself

so many times

trying to prove

existence

every hurt tells lies

about how it got there

every memory fondled

whispers far too low

i forget function

i forget duty

i forget labels

i forget

77. r

i wasn’t there but was made after

like a shadow, so much like

when i look straight down, there’s nothing

but light, some bank statements

elephants, a remote,

peanut marco , once hunger

shells

polo, serviette please

the tail end of

screams or laughter

or the dead

was it

or the dying to be

who control the all of flowers

with their mighty silence

frost spreads up from the lake

working white

tickling little shiver steps

no, silver, better yet

i wasn’t someone else’s

walking

no, where were my steps

though to nets

of later heat

bienvenue à friars in motion

2006-11-18T20:49:00.000-08:00

*as (well...if) this grows it might be best to use this same post with additional catagories added as needed.

-l-e-c-t-u-r-e-s-

V.S. Ramachandran

V.S. Ramachandran, M.D., Ph.D. is Director of the Center for Brain and Cognition and Professor of Neurosciences and Psychology at the University of California , San Diego , and Adjunct Professor of Biology at the Salk Institute. Ramachandran trained as a physician and obtained a medical degree from Stanley Medical College and subsequently a doctorate from Trinity College at the University of Cambridge, England. Ramachandran's early research was on visual perception but he is best known for his work in Neurology.

The Uniqueness of the Human Brain

40/40 Vision Lecture: Neurology and the Passion for Art

John Searle

Searle, John - (Ph.D. philosophy, Oxford; currently Professor of Philosophy, UC Berkeley.) In philosophy of mind, Searle is known for his critique of computationalism, his theory of intentionality, and his work on the problem of consciousness. His early work was on Speech Acts.

Beyond Dualism

James Randi

...internationally billed as The Amazing Randi, is a stage magician and scientific skeptic best known as a debunker of pseudoscience.

The Search for the Chimera

Howard Zinn

The author of "Peoples History of the United States" gives an hour and a half speech here about the rheotoric of war and the need for reform. Zinn also deals in perspective, how we should look at the past and hisory, and therefore how we should act in the present.

Embracing Humanity: Truth in the Time of War

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Adam Curtis

Curtis previously taught politics at Oxford University but left for a career in television. He currently works for BBC Current Affairs. He is noted for making programmes which express a clear (and sometimes controversial) opinion about their subject, and for narrating the programmes himself.

The Power of Nightmares (parts 1 through 3)

This film explores the origins in the 1940s and 50s of Islamic Fundamentalism in the Middle East, and Neoconservatism in America, parallels between these movements, and their effect on the world today. Not yet broadcast in the United States... (see also: The Century of the Self)

"Baby it's Cold Outside pt.1"

"The Phantom Victory pt.2"

"The Shadows In The Cave pt.3"

Remembering a Jack Kerouac

"Jack took a stand there in the night"..."So be sure."

DOCUMENTARIO

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Fernando Arrabal with Fernando Arrabal

Fernando Arrabal (born August 11, 1932 in Melilla (Spain) is a Spanish playwright, screenwriter, film director, novelist and poet of Spanish origin. He settled in France in 1955.

"What do you mean your not God?"

A Fondo

A pair of literary interviews from A Fondo (TVE; Spanish television)--en español

Jorge Luis Borges

Julio Cotrázar

Brian Burton, a.k.a. Danger Mouse

Brian Joseph Burton, better known by his stage name Danger Mouse, is an American producer and DJ whose most recent work is with Cee-Lo as the duo Gnarls Barkley. He came to prominence in 2004 when he remixed The Beatles (more commonly known as The White Album) and rapper Jay-Z's The Black Album to create The Grey Album. He has also produced the second Gorillaz album, 2005's Demon Days, which earned him a Grammy nomination for Producer of the Year. In addition, he worked with rapper MF DOOM on the collaboration DANGERDOOM.

Interview with Danger Mouse at UCLA film festival (as artist in residence)

Ali G

Ali G is presently the title character of HBO's Da Ali G Show, which features two other characters also played by Sasha Baron Cohen: Borat Sagdiyev, a foreign correspondent from Kazakhstan, and Bruno, a fashion reporter for Austria's fictional 'Gay TV'. Also, Ali G delivered the Class Day speech to the Harvard class of 2004.

Interview with Noam Chomsky

Interview with Gore Vidal

Interview with Heinz Wolf

-s-h-o-r-t-s-