Monthly Archives: September 2011

The Inward Cringe

This is #5 of 200 pages of drawings I’m committing myself to. I bought a pack of drawing paper and decided to just try this. If nothing else comes from it, I’ve at least given myself 200 more days of something to do. Well, 200 more days to live is how I’ve been loosely thinking about it. Things have happened here and there, but anyway I just wanted to share this drawing. It was the first of very few I thought was worth sharing.  I had in mind a line from the previous poem I posted here while I drew this one. The poem below is part of the new bunch I’ve finally continued to edit. It’s a bit different I guess, but I tired. I’m not as stuck as I was before, so anything, good or bad that comes through is appreciated.

 
The Collective

It is not okay to say
I am never to admit I want no part
I’ve no right – having sunsets, even upsets as good as I have
As able bodied as I am, to resign
To allow my tired ended lids itch to get me gone

I must recognize what I was born to claim
And shoulder my share of weight
Our vitriol, violence, plentiful poverties and disease
Far distant a simple digestible grate
How it takes and takes and
Rapes the light of me…

Dutiful numbered citizen, straight spine and down cast eyes
You must take pride and obey
Find a way to balance out your hate as no one alive escapes blame
Whatever space you fill to live about and breathe
Your found places to lay down, face down for the sleep where
The darkness puts up with our sallow stream of reveries
Webbing across the sky – engaged in a constant feed and
Vicious purging of raw guilt
The run retch become of our true conscience

Our spread about at will
To achieve and never fully meet the need
Forever crinkled with the crave – where freedom means obliterate
From limit comes leader – era – label this the age
The risen means far more than what we can embrace

—————————–

I will be away for a few weeks out of town. Hopefully my life will be different or I’ll come back home changed in some way that matters this time. Or maybe an opportunity will come along where I won’t need to return home at all…And whether it’s something good or not, I don’t really care. Any change is better than nothing at this point. I’m ready. Getting away from home is where it has to start.

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Keep Going


A frustrated drawing using semi-hard pastels. I initially took it as a complete disappointment, but decided that sharing even the bad moments will do me good. Below is a new poem. Many of the newer ones happen to be longer, so sorry to anyone who may actually bother reading these things…lol All the months I went without writing anything have just been made up for I guess.

 
The Queen Piece

By some intuitive sense
That barely, just visible ripple of a hint
Step once here, do one small bit and a
Full ordeal readily wheels you in

The sight behind each blink betrays every turn’s conclusion

Always how it happens, you are there to take the hit
Equally – endlessly knocked silly off your feet
Ever slipping on the mirror as it bends with inward cringe
And now you’ve shown some skin and the
Reaching grins and helpful hands of demons turn to clench
Breathless, their possessive grip

With motive to undo and chew you up

But as a weak, unwoven light, you rationalize the sacrifice
You say ‘well deserved punishment’, hungers always to resist
This is not about a simple edge
It’s about the sweat and constant blood run heat
Extreme purification – its thoroughness never complete
To melt and remold soul deformities
And even as you boil and burn in agony

Even as you realize you’ve gotten carried away…

Always how it happens as you’re who pulls the strings.
The queen piece and sole creator of your griefs
You construct then foretell the catastrophic dream
It’s a disciplined surfacing – strict and most unkind
Your satisfied, depraved mind and deprivation with a spice
Steady ground these knots and dagger points allow

To resurrect in the flames of death and find your own way out

——————————–

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The Opened Door


Delivered

Heard, felt

And though you’ve tousled my silken web
Made your mess of my exhaustions
I love you enough as
We are same

Fluttering my beat, I am alive and in your keep
I reach with strain begging in vain
To find my way from me

Fully unfix reality

Filter through and flow
Get me there or get me close
Somewhere low beneath the hellish huddle of your wings

The trembling inflections peck and sting all give word
I am more than texture
More than the rough of passive husk

I touch to be absorbed, soaked within dream
From abandoned to emboldened
Honed by the deep inbreathe
And delivered to soul

Utterly alone

In cold nourishing silence, my home
Steadied, remembering all I already know
I am already whole
Just get me there – get me close

Let me let you go.

———-

Brand new painting above from a beautiful picture I attempted to paint years ago. The older version looks ridiculous, but I think I got it alright this time. The poem is also new, part of many fresh written pieces. I’m grateful to be writing again. Just the work itself now is something I find peace in again. I wish it weren’t so often that I lose that feeling.

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