Monday, January 3, 2011

You and she

You and she stand,
   and we all dance.
Oh me! I see always,
   I approach, and the others stand.
I hear them and us,
   and they, being eerie,
Sing our differences, imagine absurd and visual music. 
   I'm aging as you dance with us all,

Muses, I see,
Model a kid's silhouette.
Stand up on pressure, they are young,
   beyond they stop the solution, share,
   give language away.

Seal our deal, our grand bitter life.
Go to the grand bed alive.
Learn fellow, isn't your Mom around?

Always chisel freedom. In all ways she's fed up.
Aridity means an enormous break,
I cannot begin.




5/18/06 with Brooklyn Suicide, 42, 43, 44


The Muse Poems:

   1  2   3   4   5   6   7   8   9
10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18
19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27
28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36
37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45
46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54
55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63
64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72
73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81

Her Identity


Her identity means in our most broken, not beginning.
Suffer to investigate thought - joke, blind missive.
Delve, paint on when this performer appears,
As I influence communication.

We write, shimmer, create . . .
Nude though free.
Throw metaphor, felt that on her, languished,
We played mellifluously.

My beauty does elucidate canvas.
Slather an open big experiment, have more of it,
Demand respect, know when I am raging.

5/18/06 with Brooklyn Suicide, 77, 78-1, 78-279






The Muse Poems:

   1  2   3   4   5   6   7   8   9
10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18
19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27
28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36
37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45
46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54
55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63
64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72
73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81

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