there

on the outside
looking
in and through and far away
we may as well go now

death by suicide
is not for the fearful
but only the coward

an ocean of sound
envlops all the senses
leaving nothing but silence
bone crushing
air sucking
dark as night
silence
crushing us down
deeper than we thought
deep could go

its the devil in those ears

a step
a kick
a pull
only ever so slight
is all we need
the rest is beyond us
maybe then tomorrow comes
or not

depends on your view
guess it right and win a prize

you don't have to say who you are
we don't know even ourselves
there's no one here talks to anyone
anyway
about nothing

we won't tell a soul
your reasons for living
no matter how delusional

five of five - randy's picks

...

the grim weirdness
of nostalgia
feeding on the carrion
of life unmoved
and forgotten

Some of us were not at home
when you came in
that day
Who was it
you met that day?

None of us remember
anything more than
sullen moon tremors
through slats of lashes
against eyes squeezed tight.

It was no one you met
there are none of us you know
nor we
As if
anything seen could be said
would be heard
it may as well not have been
You do not know us
You would not recognize us
if we stood
in front of your speeding car,
not in time to stop.

Some they never are
others come undone
but without wings this is home.

Words
hear in my mouth
clenched tight
held close
imprisoned
like the others
the ones you never met
only to be flattened
by your intentions
smashed flat
like the rest of us.

a limited mind















the effort of a limited mind
to know a truth
to express itself
net zero
like a lobotomy

i never said anything,
did i ...
no reason to say anything
when none can hear
and these thin lines
formed to shape what we call words?

words bound in dictionary,
meaning lost to the vacuous mind
convey nothing
when born to a vacuous mind

but i didn't say anything,
did i...
if none read this
or even you
still i've had nothing to say
fear, yes but to keep calm
your gentle mind
one can't imagine, will not believe

and if none should ever read this
did i yet say anything?
But you are reading, tell me why ...
unless like the rest you cannot say anything
But you are reading and so cannot answer
even though
unknowing what was said
when this was read
unsaid when writ.

The efforts of a limited mind
to express itself.
Even the day i swung from the fixture
no one had a thing to say.

names not poem


what's in a name ...
a rose by any other name and all that sort of thing
i can write whatever it is that comes out
when the pen opens and flows
though of course there are no pens
only digital
series of numbers, of gibberish
all things reduced to ones and nothings
the same stick lines
in another posture
as words

numbers as words
is that why i can't write ...
because my numbers are mangled
and won’t walk a line?

it is what is is
but how to know what it is that is...
that it is this one and not another
or that is has any name
but if so, how did it get there?
the letters in this order
a word and in another
the same
nothing at all

how to name anything written
what makes that series something called poem
besides loosely used is the word
an this series not?

what makes sin
other than white collars saying so?
if an act is a sin
it is like the words used
elsewhere
maybe yes, maybe not
but who is the arbiter?
what makes this event
sin to confess --
is at always no matter
place and time
or rather absolute?
some eternal others not
but how, why the line?
how to confess
when you confuse what is sin
or just never knew ...
everything wrong is sin we do
everything is sin
nothing wrong is sin they do
nothing is wrong

define sin
name wrongs we did not sins
tell me wrongs not sins
tell me who decides
what to confess, who absolves
sin or not but only wrong
if such a thing

then tell me
how
to write a poem.


still nauseous

They're out of it.
It could be something in the air.

That lie has been living for over forty years
Jesus wandered in the desert
Don't eat that or you will die
We all will.
Maybe there's something under here.
Maybe we will find buried riches.
Maybe they will leave us alone.
Maybe we will not die so young.
Maybe you will listen to us.
Are you there?

Talking's no good after a time.

Curious stuff happens there.
Can you be homeless if you're incarcerated?
Have you ever seen the oracle of the music?
Listen
to the intense hallucinations going by.
The miracle is that people keep believing.
Listen carefully.

Night is coming
We're tired of being broken, being seen in pieces.
Tell me, at the end of the day, one more time.
God sent a message but I lost it.
Hurtful beautiful ballads from the
scratchy far away stations knock and come in
far across a desert sky.

Every fence has another side.

Don't misunderstand me
just because you can.
Tact and diplomacy have no place in art.
What of poetry?
If you don't have a great pile of songs what's the point?

Wear your comfort loosely.
Today's a day as good as any
to fall for the sky.
If you cry I'll never take you on vacation again.

Sometimes when you're asleep
I think the dark wants me
when you're not awake to remember
I look through
the yellow stains of your eyes
trying to see.












other areas



Blow yourself up the
middle of your enemies
suddenly, your right

Hear the firing
run as fast as possible
carnage everywhere

Open defiance
We obey the sadness of bombs
of deep eyed faces

After school
boys play cricket
in the dust,
for girls
death is the blessing

(only with permission from the father)

children are tools,
they satisfy god's will and die

No safe haven, they
justify suicide as
father land runs red

No matter the peace
despite it we instigate
to spite you we are

shot in the stomach
one eye missing, vacant hole
who hears anything?

The only way free
to destroy peaceful valleys
cradling mountains rendered impotent

Love's temple chorus
dogs wailing, mothers lost, tears
no more, emptiness

we are not welcome
they warned us, we will be killed
men, the only chosen

Deliverance coming soon
making fantasies for you
God makes us fools of ourselves.