Tuesday, February 19, 2008

"A thousand angels cannot get through to anyone living in
imagination masquerading as insight."

New Sonnet

There is a shallow dip along the road
I walk from birth onward through driving rain
The gulch suggests a heavy lidded home
That argues higher glories to be vain

There is no proof for me to justify
No argument another could receive
In why I feel only this road is right
No map to trace my finger where it leads

Just that great men were made by great mistakes
And gave their hearts, though they were sure to break,
Lifted burdens, light as they were flowers,
Built, stone by stone, unbuildable empires

Now every foot on higher ground I take
Out of the blue that's dampening my shape

Sonnets From "I Tear One Bird"..Yet to be published

White petaled throats chirp off the nutmeg wing,
Celestial wavelengths seek, nature employs.
Bronzed shells loosen their pearl and brilliance rings!
The ice phase melts before the tender voice.

Skin sheds, irises gloss, a hope, a prayer,
Answered in symphony before our eyes.
Oysters yawn and glow as ribboned mares,
Offering pearls, as moons, unto the sky.

But what can we of flesh and bone supply?
To the hearty veins that quench the seasons?
Who, unwavered by our touch do apply
Ointment on our caveman scars of reason.

And tickling our youth, restoring men,
Manages moon rise and set and rise again.



--------------------

Us lonely, us so solitary, here.
We sensitives know well, nature’s lash.
Humbly, we look to you for cheer,
The open wounds crisscrossed upon our backs.

Sweet, still, white blossoms won’t you bloom and grow?
Winter barks cold when you beg to push…
Let those liquid veins fatten and bestow
Your buds with proper nutrients! Ambush!

Oh spring wont you push! Push! Push! We’ll pray hard!
We’ll scrape the frost from your rocky roof!
Soak your roots swollen! Extinguish barriers!
Dry agitated tears with glorious proof,

That one may break through soil by soft sewing,
Say, you’re wandering through toil? Keep going…

--------
Sonnet 9

Butter yellow wings hovering august
I’m painfully aware of summer love
Now that leaves beg to blush and fall, I must
hunt my soul back, the arrow pierced dove

mamory,, the gland of womanhood swells
All nerves mimic the pulp of cherry lips
Your liquids icicle on silver bells
heavy muted rings, I feel his absence

north to south whispers fierce, your resonance
there is no escaping, delight, decay
east to west winds devour my innocence
I would not have it any other way

I ask no favors from eternity
In serving time, time is sure to serve me
--------

a little something..........


Sonnet 9

Butter yellow wings hovering august
I’m painfully aware of summer love
Now that leaves beg to blush and fall, I must
hunt my soul back, the arrow pierced dove

mamory,, the gland of womanhood swells
All nerves mimic the pulp of cherry lips
Your liquids icicle on silver bells
heavy muted rings, I feel his absence

north to south whispers fierce, your resonance
there is no escaping, delight, decay
east to west winds devour my innocence
I would not have it any other way

I ask no favors from eternity
In serving time, time is sure to serve me

A Few Old Sonnets

I think I am, I think I’m not, I’m right
Yet fear is thick with smoke whose embers prick
The outward reaching thoughts. Perhaps at night
through dreams, hope waits, a place smoke cannot stick

breathing one one-hundredth of our breath
Seeing one one-thousandth of what’s to see
wilting petals, surviving until death
I sing the flower’s woe unto the seed

Do not, loves, mistake wisdom for my ways
Romantic eyes, nor hearts with fires bright
Can kindle the darkness of these days
Can coax soles shivering and damp, ignite!

Don’t bother swine with pearls, petites, create!
And Shake these burden omens from your slate












Perched on wooden statues as if God’s hands
Raise the paler beast to solar power
Bronze their tongues that spin like ceiling fans!
Detach vines, coax buds to flower!

Rattling lids, your guilt is boiling brew
Stain the sheets which have written plain your name
Addiction swells beg conscience please undo
What devil seed had me seek hollow fame?

Beneath the blackened forest canopy
I intended to bloom from light within
But silent darkness soon breeds anarchy
The sun, with no replacement yawns to dim

Oh forest home of mine here is my heart
My faith is lonely when we are apart











Out soft and bright the midnight afternoon
The sky may crumble if you stay awake
Circus rings will fly your way right soon
And soar above the bitter of heartache

For I have quivered in the heart that stings
And rung my hair to empty of the pain
And sink what Lady of the Lake did bring
So I could mourn and roar within my reign

Now sweet the fragrant blossoms I intake
Hovered here above the sand storm wave
Dreams go round what doesn’t burn will bake
Don’t summon force on what will not behave

For love wears garment false around her face
And trips each last one of the human race

Friday, February 15, 2008

cell phone

my phone fell out of my pocket on the train today. I prayed that whoever found it would find a way to return it to me. when I got home I called att customer service and found out someone dropped it off at a Starbucks nearby so I could pick it up. I love you honest people. Whoever returned my phone, I want to buy you a starbucks card. Today has been a wonderful day for meeting new people and being comfortable around strangers. I feel love love love.

Monday, February 11, 2008

musician search

I am looking for a drummer, bassist and multi instrumentalists for some upcoming shows. Must be creative and able to practice at least once a week!

Saturday, February 9, 2008

in love with my labtop?

Its a little scary how much my life revolves around the computer in these winter months. Wake up, check mail, write mail, post blog. open up word, free writes, poetry. Open up garage band record song ideas, edit song ideas, record again and again and again.. Get hunger headache, rummage around for food. Check mail, write mail. Myspace, youtube, facebook, google, wikipedia. Back to songs. update website. back to free write, edit writing. back to song. I cant wait until spring, or vacation, or the death of all electronics....at least for a month or so, so I am forced out of this very strange routine.

Friday, February 8, 2008

My Birth Chart To This Planet

JORGE LUIS BORGES

ULTIMO POEMA
Si pudiera vivir nuevamente mi vida, en la próxima
trataría de cometer más errores. No intentaría ser tan
perfecto, me relajaría más. Sería más tonto de lo que
he sido, de hecho tomaría muy pocas cosas con
seriedad. Sería menos higiénico.

Correría más riesgos, haría más viajes, contemplaría
más atardeceres, Subiría más montañas, nadaría más
ríos. Iría a más lugares a los que nunca he ido,
comería más helados y menos habas, tendría más
problemas reales y menos imaginarios.

Yo fui de esas personas que vivió sensata y
prolíficamente cada momento de su vida, claro que tuve
momentos de alegría. Pero si pudiera volver atrás
trataría solamente de tener buenos momentos. Por si no
lo saben, de eso está hecha la vida, solo de momentos,
no te pierdas el ahora.

Yo era uno de esos que nunca iba a ninguna parte sin
un termómetro, una bolsa de agua caliente, un paraguas
y un paracaídas.

Si pudiera volver a vivir, comenzaría así hasta
concluir el otoño, daría más vueltas en calesita,
contemplaría más amaneceres y jugaría con más niños si
tuviera otra vez la vida por delante...

Pero ya ven, tengo 85 años y sé que me estoy
muriendo...
JORGE LUIS BORGES