October 2, 2010

In the attempt to balance my budget

of pernicious addictions I defer

to replacing them with new ones


Above the murky waters of doubt

gasping for air, I view for a moment

the world, splendid, colored by the absence of born crosses


To balance is not to repress or set loose

Balance is sought by push or shove

it is gained, however, by both


I sat down following my newly adopted daily crucible

and noted, panting, that before my eyes two large screens parted

a clear view of the front now visible


And the two screens fizzed and frolicked with words and shapes

they frothed with fury as they endeavored to close in

and could only remain separated by my gnashing of teeth


Free Labor

September 26, 2010

The reach of your hand places a price tag


to venture out inebriated

is an escape warranting punishment


a silent assassin, lurking in the sober dark

I restore my hand out

of any missives of choice I may have lent it unto

for I was a thief stealing moments I did not have

The craft I took credit for belongs to a man I could not be on my own

And credit is due in entirety

to a bottle of wine and a keg of misery

Not friends, and not those I would desire

to associate myself with in any work of art or science


September 25, 2010

Words and faces click into place there

are instants of magic in which we

hear and see a smooth transition of a glove

turning into a gloved


Ennui is smoke and mirrors

the machine has many shapes and it will toil

until you match it with its singular lever

the lever is life in entirety

and every lock has its key

we gnash our teeth at the wrong messages

but we dwell on only for the offchance

that we may sample the bittersweet moment

of slots meeting, perfectly, their furious counterparts.

Updates #1

September 21, 2010

Each day I feel I have to improve


The things I fear do not only immobilize me


There is nothing more precious than to unravel a secret


Smoke covers, air discovers, one chokes

on either


The question arises, indefinitely


Where am I from?

And why would that matter?

Creativity is a parasite whore, philandering on luxury

breeding, in serendipity

all that matters tomorrow, today

Feed it. It is most imporant.


A Puckle Gun is an 18th-century British weapon that has two types of ammunition – one type for Christians, less lethal,

and one type for heretics, more lethal

It failed, commercially. You should always treat your customers equally.

FB runs on fear, curiosity, passion, boredom and self-preservation

How could one resist the temptation

to learn so much from so little?


There are many vulnerabilities to sound

that is why you bring a deaf compatriot

when you need someone incapable of anything but impartiality


I can’t help but inquire as to

the similarities and correspondences of the otherwise handicapped

and that of the maelstrom of solutions I had to contrive

how did the children of the blind grow, and are any of them like me?

What I feel is not what I felt

What I think, I think, is what I will always think

but if what I think is mandated by what I feel, as it so seems

how could I not transiently think anything

that isn’t fickle so as to not be trusted?

The soothsayer grants you your wish

in ways either somber or placating

only achieving thus

in surpassing your rage


We are an amalgamation of

fear and

how we ephemerally overcome it


As long as there is breath

there are always more updates


September 12, 2010

I get

Only a very brief view

of the universe

It is still fascinating.

My Secret Room

September 9, 2010

Navigating through sullen highways

I see that everything I use

is stolen and

even I am not my own

My route is uncannily familiar

I neglect the laws of traffic

in my flight, I render not unto Caesar

in my flight, that blessed anonymous chamber

exceeds in import all my empathies

I arrive in terror, stairs spiraling, roofs become floors, floors become doors,

and doors – darkness

It is my room, a sanctuary I have frequented often in escape

There are doors on every side, traps leading to other souls

But this room is a secret I keep

In reciprocation

And there are things upon this here table

that I could take with me.

Lines of Sight

August 19, 2010

Those are shapes that carry your worth

that revere you with design

and yet

so many, in their haste,

scuttle to impure qualia in ignorance

and crash and burn in passion

for unattainble works of art

Ripe, moist, rupturing pieces

of art

all of you, each

make demands on such pains

But I am a swift taster, I climax promptly

and immediately spit you out in ennui

If only I had the brush to draw you

where I could taste you with clenched fists

and bid you adieu,

mollified by transient ecstasy.


August 13, 2010

The finest endeavors rivet me

almost stationary

Where I occupy there may be courts and yards

halls vast and looming

But I am held delineating a humble planet

inhabited by a concerned mind, several limbs and a varying degree

of passion.

Humble me, nature

I grow complacent grasping tiny atoms of you

Yet, drive me,

the distance between us dismembers any zeal

I may have begot in ignorance.

Conditioning – draft

August 12, 2010

Given is the night

Taken is our mirth

That we contrive light

And imbibe pleasing poisons

with clenched teeth

Swirls and kinks etch

our wizened ground and critters

that crawl and feed

In despair we reemerge arrogant

we steal to gain, we subsist on depletion

Now one deficit breeds another

that feeds on our longevity

That we may conspire to shape the air

so winded, we pound harder

until nature routs.


May be discarded –  a bit half-hearted that was.

Lock and Key

August 8, 2010

Lines collude into shapes

and shapes into function

Stress one down into a

corner and present a convoluted lock.

It is within the nature of the clever beast

to wield a pen and scribble, madly

for each knows its Key, for each it must extend it a loving hand.

In its ears, wrapped around claws, it heeds

“form me, unlock and Key, I am best to say

what is the nature of the beast

It is only

to return me

And as you design

to oblige the gate to yield

You unwittingly concede

I favor you, peerlessly

by being everything


Not so sure about this one. Maybe revising it won’t do it any good.