Last night I packed myself With cellophane paper Used to pack luggage I positioned a “FRAGILE” tag, Not on my toe, no For I am not dead yet - I tagged it on the center Of my chest Right above the huddle Of pumping red tissues I dropped myself On your door
Comes morning sun You find me there Stand over my body Give me a look of aloofness Hold me vigilantly Take me into your house Go up the stairs Put me in the attic And leave home to start your new day
The music was loud And I was immersed by the vibes Around me were characters From a novel I just finished reading The musicians, looking elated With every note played Expressions on their faces Look as if they were orgasming And I think to myself How divine, for a person to create A note, a child Just to be able To create
Around me were characters From a novel I just finished reading Feeble minds People whose past and future Are nothing but one Simply because they don’t Prove their existence In the realm of the mortals You remember how they were Ten years ago And meet with them again Twenty years later And they are still the same
Around me were characters From a novel I just finished reading There is the dreamer Who lives elsewhere You think she is among us Present But her mind is on a different planet Scrutinizing humanity From high above Mocking our generation And the fast pace it took To realizing its carnal goals To achieving its useless ends Not stopping for a moment To absorb notes Played by some musicians Who dedicate their existence To the creation of something We all long to imitate
A fool man lives in my head He comes out in the hour of darkness Making an imperceptible appearance In my night’s first dream
The fool man restrains my brain From dozing off He gives way to sleeplessness The whole night through
The fool man is evil He wants to suffocate me He presses my legs and shoulders He lifts me up from my bed Takes me on a trip while I scream unheard Knowing that he is in my head The fool man throws me on the ground Each night He throws me on the ground
I wake up dumbfounded Each night I know the fool man is transparent I know he is in my head But he is stronger than I am He is taking my sleep away
When moments perceived as eternity Pass by in fractions of seconds And the hours fly by And you are still where you are On that bed In that homely room Next to the same person Talking about the vital and the trivial Worrying about nothing outside the walls Feeling nothing but the soothe and comfort Of the moment
When this scene is repeated In your mind, the day after And your heart goes on beating The same beats of excitement And ecstasy And you long for the coming opportunity To relive a moment away Outside the walls of this life Outside its ups and downs In the same room filled by the imaginary delight And the ongoing rummaging of lost dreams Turning them into bits of reality Only real inside the barricades of your thoughts
Then, and only then Hang on to that heart beat For it is the small things In the person next to you That make you enjoy each minute spent That are worth dreaming and longing for
There is a noise in my head A scarcely audible noise It comes from a place faraway From the mouth of a little girl Uttering hushed words In the ear of a little boy Sitting beside her On a hill, up above the sea She tells him a story Of a dream she once had To go to a place so faraway Where she would meet a little boy Sit beside him on a hill, Up above the sea How at sunset, her words would Fade, drown with the sun And be embraced By the deity of the deep sea Who will make them pigments Coloring grains of sand And drop them little by little In the daydreams of the girl When eternity had passed And the memory of this place Is barely recalled She will be in her prime She will hear a noise in her head A scarcely audible noise Of words uttered ages ago By a little girl Sitting next to a little boy On a hill, right above the sea In a place that is far away But will she remember?
"pig correspondence", A New Collection of Poems
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Here at Lulu our Nickel Hole Press have just published *pig correspondence*,
a book of poems from a few years ago. This will be on Amazon in a few
weeks. ...
Where to?
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I have changed so much from the person I used to be, something I had
always known and felt for the past few years. What has changed is that I
have nothing...
Not Dead...
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I've decided that, after a near two-year hiatus from this blog, that it is
post-time to update. Here are some new publishings this year:
Otoliths
Gutter...
Crunked
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Crunked Poetry by Jack Henry 113 pages $17.50 Epic Rites Press, 2011
“Crunked was not written. Not even close, not even for a second. Crunked
was ripped fr...
You Are Thinking
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you are thinking
of all those you loved
and how they all went away.
bombs hit beside you
buildings crash
hell seems only a minute away.
and life is a roller ...