September 21, 2010

• Former Currents

  Eggplant
   
  It was raining… or was it?
  I don’t really recall
  but I remember the world
  was making me feel small
  as I sat in the car
  while the traffic coerced
  my internal nocturne
  to escape unrehearsed
  and I broke into song
  for no one could hear me
  and the music aroused
  all the petulance near me
  so I cursed and swore
  had a veritable revival
  and realized that life
  is just the cost of survival

  cosmosis
   
  If radio waves had any sense
  they’d radiate incognito,
  disguised as clowns selling fast food
  or turkeys pretending to be eagles,
  and receivers would never find them
  so the reception would be
  less than amicable
  and the joke would be on God
  by his loving but mischievous angels

   
   
  apologue
   
  I made a mistake
  I take it back
  I admit I was wrong
  though it isn’t a fact
  but a truth nonetheless
  I just misunderstood
  it’s a hell of a mess
  but it has done some good
  because now I know better
  and I’m sorry

  spiritual hedonism
   
  we’ll all be gods when we’re dead
  heaven is a comfy throne and bed
  there is no such thing as sin
  as fun to lose as it is to win
  because nobody has a problem
  not a single ghoul or goblin
  and everything we want will come to pass
  and everyone we love will kiss our ass

  trust not in mysterious ways
   
  faint wondrous insightful light
  anticipate away
  slightly darker sparkly moonbeams
  reminiscence broadly cast
  to gathering wits
  recapitulating perpetually dimmer
  until commonplace is rare
  being lost to everywhere
  and another idea dies
  before ever being born
  in the light of unmitigated faith

  Polychotimajigger
   
  Perception is creation in your brain
  though, by the brain is better to explain
  the way the things you think you feel
  are the things you think are real
  and all other things are why you think you’re sane
   
  The brain and heart are vital to cliche
  that’s why they often go a common way
  there isn’t much dissent
  because the rules can still be bent
  until some other organs need to have their say

  Your way
   
  is not the same as mine
  and my way works for me
  but your way sometimes
  seems to shine
  while mine just shadows me
  like water in the deepest well
  or the bottom of the sea
  my way has captivated me
  could your way set me free?
  I’d try it if I understood
  or you could make me see
  but the fact you haven’t even tried 
  suggests it’s probably not for me

  vainglory
   
  nobody understands
  beauty becomes a dare
  we fight and die for love of it
  but, really, we don’t care
  the end has charms and nervous tics
  here we are in the cold night air
  with friends we never really knew
  and products in our hair
  thinking back to innocence
  understanding left us there
   

  alternatives to fuel
   
  rather have a gallon of milk
  than a cold six-pack of beer
  but make it a gallon of unleaded gas
  and that, I might just hear
  but still I believe I’ll take the milk
  because I’ve got no place to go
  but, then again, if I had that beer
  well, you never really know

  the future was yesterday
   
  a long time ago
  in a galaxy far away
  it was quick how it slowed
  with indifference
   
  but time and again
  and again every time
  everyday, very slowly
  entertaining insignificance
   
  it became true
  that it wasn’t any more
   
  but it could be, couldn’t it?
  or rather, could have been…
  and if it would have been
  the question would be shouldn’t it?
   
  but it was, you might say
  until it wasn’t any more
  so the past was more true than today
   
  and maybe some lies
  are suddenly now facts
  almost like it was supposed to be that way
   
  and insignificant to the point not only
  when it doesn’t matter any more
  but when you see it never really did
   
   

  • 4:47 am
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