What Is Life

Happy Birthday George!!!!!

Standing Still

things very pleasant,
the dinner made in
the kitchen,
the music playing
that falls on a line
between 'soft rock'
and what the kids
are listening to these days
the definitions aren't
so distinct, not mandated
things very relaxed
no one here's worried,
not overly concerned
no one is left lonely
in their thoughts
the present's the thing,
the presence the thing.

No Dice!

Trains from Chicago
And I think of how
I can't use "darling"
like they can,
it just doesn't sound right
and when I think of
wanting to be someone else,
I remember that they
don't call you darling,
and they don't have a
love for the Chef's Kitchen.
It's ten o'clock on a
Wednesday evening
and I'm sitting here
remembering what
Washington looked like
eleven years back, in
the white shadow of Maryhill,
O Klickitat, you have
remembered too.
It's a cold winter evening
and I think about
reading on the front lawn
and remember that I
never finished that tale.
And I think of how
I like watching the audience
that doesn't react,
it just makes me feel better
and when I think of
wanting to be something else,
I remember that
the Thinker used to be the Poet,
and it has never
been to Bronson.

Some scribblings

A few things I wrote tonight, which aren't very good, but I haven't written anything in a while.

#1
the darkest night,
all of the stars have gone.
the sun remains,
but only to focus
our eyes in the day,
to look at what we have left.

#2
he's a creature who
feasts on eyes.
he's a righty,
his brother a Southpaw.
obsessed with revenge,
he's endlessly filling
the hole in his skull,
swallowing the orbs
now blind in his stomach.

#3
The seventh point
in your steps toward
self-deter-tualization
tells me that I must
pick a color for my spirit.
green is my favorite, is
favored by such distinguished
persons as Ralph Nader
and Joe Peta.
but it's the color of the
eyes of a monster,
and I don't want to be a monster.
yellow is sunshine, yet
also cowardly and the
hue of urine (when
one isn't all that hydrated).
red is brave and dangerous,
the bad boy of the spectrum,
terribly exciting, but
red seeps from fatal wounds.
blue is the wide open sky,
and the shade of the
bird of happiness,
but it's also melancholy,
downtrodden, not much fun
to be around.
I wonder how this color
can exemplify both ends.
and I think that blue
is the color of
your steps are shit.