Friday, February 15, 2008
Lona Paloma and Me
Me and Lona Paloma were never destined to meet She was just a destitute Spirit Guide who happened while I was staring at my feet We never talk because there is nothing to say But we like carousing together in our uncommon spaces where we're teaching eachother how to untie our shoes while clapping...
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Tuesday, February 12, 2008
LOST MOVIES/ OR COLETTE RIDES AGAIN
I'm a humble star looking for my award That's why i kidnapped myself holding a ransom over my head But now that this blackard has touched this web playing the part in earnest Is there no honor among playwrits? He says he will kill me if I don't stop talking about my favorite recipies So, I tell him...
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Monday, January 7, 2008
Another Reality
What’s all these ideas banging in my head I’m sure they wouldn’t be happening if I were dead So if the Truth lies with blushed cheeks I think this Rose is mine to keep
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Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Mathematical Prediction: Dead Bones and Fossil Fuel
I don’t know about dead bones, or where we’re going to put them Space on earth seems to be limited We’re still discovering bones from 2 million years ago while we’re burying bodies in air tight caskets that will never decompose So at our rate of birth, and that everyone will die within a hundred...
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Sunday, December 16, 2007
THE TORRENTS OF PERCEIVED REALITY
Which way is home? I need to know this, now while the volcano is erupting and it’s not the dust or the lava, it’s only the gases that can kill me So, I decided to stay with my gasmask on and see if I could sell them some Carbon Credits which turned out to be a little difficult since everyone had...
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Saturday, December 15, 2007
THE HUNCHBACK OF THE STEEPLECHASE
The Hunchback of the Steeplechase points his paintbrush into the Sun’s eye So the Sun begins to cry, then gets very angry and closes down the Sky, and reaches for his rifle The shots crackle through the firmament as he shoots frozen pellets at the hunchback The Hunchback of the Steeplechase retreats...
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Wednesday, December 12, 2007
SAMBA
In the samba of my life i close the door to my room Death and Change are never the same so I wait here for the knock In the samba of my room I close my eyes lying on my samba bed Why do miracles need a sky? Death and Change are never on time they're never here until they knock So in the samba of my...
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Sunday, December 9, 2007
Foibles
Looking into the mirror the snake recoiled gasping at itself The invader jumped back too, surprised What! Put space back into the arch without resetting the bridge?
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Friday, December 7, 2007
Guitar, Mandolins, and the Bossa Nova
I DON'T LIKE GUITARS, BUT I LIKE THIS TOUCHY-TOUCHY, AND WALKING UPRIGHT IN A RHYTHM SOMETIMES MUSIC SEEMS SO MUSICAL IT COULD TICKLE A SKY WITHOUT TOUCHING IT WHILE A SADNESS SMILES IN SPARKLING EYES THE LEAP INTO AN EVENTUAL BREATH WILL MAKE THIS CLUTTER MINE
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Wednesday, December 5, 2007
WHEN THE WORLD WORE A DRESS
It worked, once, when the World wore a dress carrying her secrets in her bosoms And Time had a face, completely familiar, because it never changed They say the sky was closer, then when the mountains were woven to the heavens with a silver thread, and little wooden paths beat their way to the door...
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