|
| |
the_lost_year
|
|
|
stork daddy
|
you open your eyes up,
and it's as morning as the blinds allow,
and the stock market has crashed.
friends get married,
and send out invitations shaped like baseball tickets,
and you have a remembrance
of being pressed up against a streetlamp,
years ago,
and her lips only promised secrets of the past.
they had nothing to say about the future then,
but now they can do nothing but -
dismembered from that night,
and filtering in through the blinds.
my own memories coming from outside of me.
all of the news of the day does not just reach me this morning,
it reaches in,
and twists past kisses,
into the accomplices of an uncertain future.
|
110804
|
| |
... |
|
|
ever dumbening as
|
fer rilz tho, glad the minicon sparked the return of your digital pen.
blather_ambassador
|
110805
|
| |
... |
|
|
oh fuck all
|
official_blather_ambassador
|
110805
|
| |
... |
|
|
stork daddy
|
i wait for my train
in the sunset district of the city
where houses obscure, and ice plants
remind, that this was all once sand.
downtown i walk past men and women
in vertical suits
like pagan war robes.
stone-bellied men,
who discuss the gods of their day:
the sisters SQL, Short-Sale, and Zoning.
the everyday details we forget of empires. i know nothing of
the economic policies of Rome.
i cannot fathom 1,000 crucified slaves, lined up like a display at a big box store.
what i know is a line from horace,
"every old poem is sacred."
our days of commerce, our lives built, ruined, and rebuilt,
these are what we share effortlessly
with all who came before us.
it is those matters that do not have to be true,
high minded ideals, whether turned towards cruelty or love,
that we must strive to remember.
there is no need for a grecian urn, it stood out more starkly and so dissolved more readily than its attendant ode.
|
110805
|
| |
... |
|
|
Doar
|
I'm very glad that storkman has returned his poetry to us.
Rock on SD. Rock on.
.
|
110805
|
| |
... |
|
|
stork daddy
|
the sheets cool fevered sweats,
sleepless midnight,
quiet on the roads.
you rub your chest lazily
like the bending strings of a spanish guitar.
you are only your body in that
any given part of it is available for you to focus on.
old pains and old pleasures
nod as they pass one another
down the length of your leg.
you turn to the other body
in the bed, and marvel at it,
how perfect, how unlike yours,
how unavailable to sensation.
|
110806
|
| |
... |
|
|
ungreat
|
perfection
|
110807
|
| |
... |
|
|
stork daddy
|
mist like gunpowder smoke
itself under blanketing stars
crowns a city with the night lit
in square egalitarian grids
towards its edges
and more pragmatic patterns
towards its core,
in an approximation of natures
unheralded priorities.
peace, bread, and land
reads the headlines of weeping mothers and
fat ruddy faced children
in london and cairo.
there are no such things as distant
revolutions anymore
and propaganda
is a matter of being the top search result,
volume not color or art or even resonance.
the city is calm and well lit,
but reality now is not narrative
or singular -
every calm prefigures burning -
every calm prefigures itself.
the collapse of the far reaches of the world onto a distant city
is the expansion of the city.
the stars in the very sky,
now both more and less universal
than they've ever been.
the night is now only as quiet
as the other side of the world's day
allows.
|
110809
|
| |
... |
|
|
Doar
|
and a dastardly deed,
or the bastard dead.
.
|
110810
|
| |
... |
|
|
unhinged
|
the last time i saw you
you seemed
distant
heavy
preoccupied
sad
(i don't really know you anymore)
in general
i'm a bad conversationalist
i talk and talk
but barely ask questions enough to listen
i didn't ask you what was wrong
even though something obviously was wrong
cause i was too busy babbling
(seems to be a habit of mine)
we didn't spend as much time together
as i would've liked
some sporting event pulled you away
a fight?
i made my way home
and me and him fought and fought
about those hours we spent together in the park
it ended my relationship with him actually
that he was too insecure
to let me walk in the park
with the boy that saved my life
i miss you
|
120811
|
| |
... |
|
|
stork daddy
|
not sure how i would've responded.
engine won't turn over. may junk it. likelier i'll squint through the fog with my left turn signal on all the way home. get out, pull my laptop bag over my shoulder, pat the car on the ass. and then lean for a moment against the wall of my apartment complex and squelch the anxiety of actually arriving somewhere, the tears or otherwordly distant road laughter that rush to the front when you suddenly brake.
|
120817
|
| |
... |
|
|
FA113NI will lose next year too. In a club a girl
|
I will lose next year too.
In a club, a girl asked me to dance. I said no. I have brittle bones, so I don't dance. She grabbed my arm and pulled me onto the dance floor. I fell over and broke my leg. It needed an operation. Now I have a metal rod in it.
So now I'm in a wheelchair and that girl cost me two years of my life.
|
120817
|
| |
... |
|
|
in a silent way
|
they all get lost
gone to the austere graveyard of years
no headstones to speak to
while trying to conjure
the second side
of a one-way conversation with time
we carry talismans
to remind us of what has passed
until they grow legs
scurry away
and here's one more
another year to lose
and get lost in
|
130129
|
| |
... |
|
|
Doar
|
the pipe
it played
beside
the streetlamp
it carried
the light
and played
beside
the curb
of all the waiting
the too high
.
|
130201
|
| |
... |
|
|
Risen
|
I have lost so much time. So many years.
I have wasted my time on people who did not deserve me.
This year I will be found.
|
150126
|
| |
... |
|
|
Lemon_Soda
|
This year I will find me again.
|
150127
|
| |
... |
|
|
fishawk
|
I've lost years... felt I wasted years... I forget what memories each year held... I don't feel justified in regretting these years because they continue to lead me to the next year and day and hour... how could I regret the path that brought me here? I like where I'm at. I have a beautiful life, a wonderful lover and an adorable doggie in a pretty cool environment. I have much to improve in myself a d my life currently. I have a lot of inner emotional and mental knots to untangle, physical conditions to heal and make better, so mu ch to learn and practice... I am far from finished, not quite found, but I think life is a continuous_search for self and connectedness. I think the the idea I like today is that I want to be fully present in always searching, because when the search is really through then_what?
|
150127
|
| |
... |
|
|
unhinged
|
.
why dont you come visit me again? we need to catch up
we could find another nessun dorma in seattle. we could talk all night. we could watch mountains crumble together.
|
150127
|
| |
... |
|
|
stork daddy
|
yes yes yes
|
151125
|
| |
... |
|
|
Lemon_Soda
|
And I did.
|
160609
|
| |
... |
|
|
unhinged
|
(i would still love it if you came to visit)
|
160610
|
