humanity

humanity
fire
skyscrapers
mega mega death bombs
high fructose whatevers
carrageenan
portable everythings
and enough entertainment
to make this life forgettable

winelips

winelips
in the morning
evidence
royal splotches
on the fingerprints
of our lips

"Cracked Pot"

Retold by Mary Dessein
a Tale from India.

A water-bearer carries two large pots on a yoke across his shoulders up the hill from the river to his master's house each day. One has a crack and leaks half its water out each day before arriving at the house. The other pot is perfect and always delivered a full portion of water after the long walk from the river.

Finally, after years of arriving half-empty and feeling guilty, the cracked pot apologized to the water-bearer. It was miserable. "I'm sorry that I couldn't accomplish what the perfect pot did."

The water-bearer says, "What do you have to apologize for?"

"After all this time, I still only deliver half my load of water. I make more work for you because of my flaw."

The man smiled and told the pot. "Take note of all the lovely flowers growing on the side of the path where I carried you. The flowers grew so lovely because of the water you leaked. There are no flowers on the perfect pot's side."

evanescent adolescence

eternal adolescence
where the water is never too cold
old folks are simply too old
the world exists for us to unfold
seeing life, as if for the very first time
bathing in the colors, the breeze, the grime
freedom - at freedom's prime
inexhaustible energy in every slice of our skin
stress does not exist, neither the fuzz on our chins
we don't play in a world where we must always win
we play to play, and play is fun
we play everywhere, our play is never done
if all else fails, we simply run
but we didn't know at the time, did we?
we didn't know or care of a "bourgeoisie"
we were children - in the heat - in Tennessee.

a few (5)

anything else?
yes & no.
& I don't know.

creativity is a lemon,
though we wish it a lime.

(sincerely.)

a few (4)

finally


finally
something
to say finally to
you know the feeling
and if you don't
you will
eventually
if its the last thing
you ever do
unlike the cliche
- if you don't mind -
which I just opined to you

a few (3)

suns & snowmen
again & amen
when you say when
I'll begin then
like I always do &
suns & snowmen
misunderstood
its not the sun that wins
sublimation
advection
condensation
precipitation
in short
snowmen
suns fell for it
yet again
& again
& again

(I like green.)

a few (2)

why can't I remember
things which I thought
your birthday in September
it makes me distraught
how we even met
I haven't a clue
where is my head
when it's not on the screw
why can't I remember
what I simply ought to

(this color, because I'm not sure about it, and I'm not sure about this one. but italics, because I like it more than the last one.)

a few (1)

all of these years
all of my fears -
you can take them
you can have them
but they aren't much
anymore
memories don't bleed
they don't feed
memories i don't need
memories recede

(gray because I don't like it, and I don't like gray right now.)

Forever Sunshine

summer
or late spring, at least
perpetual ease
ice, sand, and sweat
cooled by a breeze
freedom: immense
laughter
life
fifty cents
forever sunshine
it cannot fade
when i think -
lemonade

Knoxville -
a silly girl
obsessed with her beauty
a rich man
who never has worked.

excerpt from "The Unnamed"

by Joshua Ferris

"The other [his body] had gone completely quiet. No more complaints of hunger or the cold. He had no memory of the last time it had managed to keep anything down. He was winning. He had never given much thought to heaven before, but now he was certain it existed. Without God, the body won, and that couldn't be possible. He was one thing, his body a different thing altogether, and he was willing a separation, in which he went off to eternal repair while it suffered its due fate of rough handling, dirt, and rot."

the world is changing

a few thoughts that quickly formed into a hoard of thoughts, none which are worth much.

the world is changing
less birdwatching, or less who admit it
less interest in the stars
we know what is up there now
and they are not here
and here is all that matters
fast food is not fast anymore
nor cheap
nor does it identify itself as fast food
though we all blindly know what it is
less people smile today
probably because in our world
we are all happy, always
so why smile for a single moment?
likely connected to our talking
we talk so much more
but communicate so much less
a trait we learned from machines
never spend your time
like you spend your money
we are spending our time
like we are spending our money
do we actually have money?
real, physical money?
we don't seem to have time
our sunglasses aren't as futuristic
as they use to be
our television
is so much more "real"
than it use to be
if it were not,
what else would be?
our mountains continue to wear
but we are building more
with our excess gods
the atmosphere
probably does not exist anymore
soon to follow -
smiling, conversation,
and general human interaction
we're in the 2,000's
and our cars still do not fly
and we still sometimes cry
we're in the 2,000's
and we are still not perfect
the world is changing
though not as fast as we thought it would
the world is changing
at its prevailing pace

meh

a bump on the back of my arm
bigger than a pimple, smaller than a lump
has no hair, causes no harm
not noticeable, not worth a care
but I do. I wish it was not there.

a mother. sweet and sincere
two sons, one could have been done
a bump on his head, or in it in fact
it would still be there - if our technology lacked
he's still here, he wished it was never there

hundreds of years ago, fever, and a telltale sneeze
a trickle of blood, cities, down to their knees
invisible killer, millions to their graves
no war to be fought. life could not be bought.
a twitch of the nose, wished never was there

a serpant, it's told, once spoke to a girl
no bumps or lumps, maybe not even a sneeze
no cancer for sure, yet still we were lured
in a perfect world, must we still want more?
it seems, likely, we would even say please.



perfection, we desire
we desire it so
yet we don't let ourselves know
we don't let ourselves go
one step at a time
one failure per step
though we don't know
we don't let ourselves know
few truly wish for perfection
fewer for flaws