Archive for Poetry

Four Voices IV: Fucked

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , on June 8, 2010 by atmaweapon42

video for “Image of God”

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , on June 2, 2010 by atmaweapon42

Image of God

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , on June 1, 2010 by atmaweapon42

Dad’s grave erupted from fiber
glass drops and the looming
shadows of a wooden shell.

The trawler’s nets caught
nightmares, and the missing
green paper tore at pride

not once before infected.
But the poison of Wall’s
greed trapped his pepper

white and gray beard,
as denim tuxes hung
like undertaker wraps,

sackcloth, and the black
robes that haunt cracks
in leather hands. Teeth

went first as his wide
god-man shoulders
haunted gray windows

and even grayer doors.
The brown rot ate
and chewed upon cheeks.

During Jeopardy, Dad sat
hunched, sipping Campells
cream of chicken in low

wet rasps as warmth
laced the wounds seeping
toxins into failing blood.

The mind had no time
to crumble. He climbed
into the white Chevy

and drove off Milledge
bend to find a place
to dream

of new wood molds
and the sharp sweet

sting of resins lurking
hiding

tearing apart the silk
of lungs.

Over Coffee: For My Wife On Her Birthday

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , on April 17, 2010 by atmaweapon42

I ask her a question so dumb
That I immediately laugh to myself:

“What do you dream about?”
She answers with a light laugh,

A smile bright as all spring’s
Proud Azaelas: “To work

With flowers.” A simple
Dream maybe, but with

Words light and wet
As morning dew on pink

Petals, she reminds me
Once again of why I fell

So Hard for her. I kiss
Her lips and hold her

Close to my heart.
All black earth’s gems

darken at the fleeting
Light’s rays and colors

Of her dreams shop.
I could live there with her.

Gout

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , on April 13, 2010 by atmaweapon42

Bark into your gold
mike and swell like

infection, filled
with rot and pride:

stagnant, green
with blood’s long

absence. But carry

on dead campaigns.
Salute the old rust

and flaked cores
of hollow country,

mourned by Wasps
that sting and kill

as life abandons
their hopes and fear.

The founding fathers
crumbled to dust

hundreds of years
ago. No one told

you did they?
So throw black-

red roses on graves
unmourned, as blood

leaves cake the earth
around swollen feet.

The gout has begun
its advance. Soon

your words will soften,
and the aphid horde

will wander aimlessly,
lost in a despair

so full and deep
their teeth will tear

at all who cross them.
Your dittoheads will

EaT eAch otHer.

Cyber Brain

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , on April 12, 2010 by atmaweapon42

Cyber Brain

Grey matter could beep
one day.

I fucking swear, we’ll
store data

in the folds of blood
and flesh

brains for others to pick
apart

and crack-snap like
fortune

cookies. You want
to live

that way? Immortal,
cold,

digital? Just keep
Googling.

Extinction of Verse V: Dementia’s Posession

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , on April 8, 2010 by atmaweapon42

Random thoughts
fade.

No more child
skipping

rope in song.
No

love’s arms
eclipse

In breath’s
gasp

laced with scent’s
graze.

no brown
eyes

and lips
press

taste of thick
gloss

glaze. He sits
in stare

out window’s maze
not

knowing who
he was.