Monthly Archives: September 2009

koala for dinner

1
Posted by Rob on September 25, 2009 – 11:29 pm
Filed under Uncategorized

The way your light reflects

the grace is like braille

the way a hand can feel your face

and it’s so dark, but I don’t know that

so it doesn’t really matter to me, anymore..

But I did feel it, that strange passing of what I could not grasp.

Fine.. so be it.

Blood can evoke so many images, I just imagine

a circle drawn on the floor, with a strange glow,

and people chanting, waiting for their god..

like I’m waiting for you.

And I can imagine things darker, far darker..

darker than you, or I, or anything we could be..

Darker than the moons heart on a night where I am invisible,

just like you,

and thinking about why the weather seems perfect if we’re not there;

figures.

Forget about it, I suppose,

because it’s sinew that binds

bone to bone

and blood that makes sanguine

ribbons flow from between

the crevice to one to another,

until one day it just can’t grow.

Now? Forever I will remember the way it really was, shrouded forever in amber some scientist will find someday. More and more now I feel like a bug — awake, asleep and dreaming — three totally different things. When did things become so automatic? When did they become out of control? Or is it really that? Perhaps now things are starting to find their orbit in life. Perhaps things are solidifying — gelling, so to speak — but why is it so disconcerting? I’ve always been a thinking, feeling person. I’ve never questioned my intuition for more than a few hours at most, and that’s just me being realistic. Should I feel like I’m on the moon? Every day I do. Please tell me why this is.

Do I yearn for something different? Obviously — that’s the eternal question answered, so don’t play dumb — and tell me exactly what is different? The Metro is metro. The Suburb is suburb. Only language, culture and perception stand between the watercolour of human existance, yet it’s more like finger painting.  We do have refined culture, according to us, and have for thousands of years, but where do you draw the line between pain and pleasure? Between thought and feeling?  However, what about those sculptures made thousands of years ago in some idea image? The ones that have been around, been weathered, seen revolution and transport and more eyes than you could ever? Suffice it to say that those busts of warlords and generals, presidents and kings will eventually crumble and turn to sand, they will fall with the museums that they reside in. They will be mud of the heels of our boots.  Eventually they will. This is very sad.

I don’t know how to elaborate any further, I don’t think I did a very good job: But I want you to know a few things about my life and our lives, and if you are willing to listen then I am willing to listen to you. I listen to you every day, and that’s really the only way this whole thing is gonna work out, I guess.

Take it easy, as always,

-RM

the wood of man

0
Posted by Rob on September 25, 2009 – 7:44 am
Filed under Poetry, Uncategorized, Writing

Hello again.. from far away

somewhere in the dark,

those lucid, lavish moments between sleep and dream,

between feeding and eating, between flesh and bone,

all those tiny moments, varicose like veins

running up a leg, or crumbling

a brick wall like ivy, over grown a thousand years.

White like ivory, or the whites of eyes

of soldiers, boys, men, felled

running towards a goal one hopes to never need,

but in order to survive

(and yes, there’s the rub)

they must.

Falling asleep in dreams is the worst thing that can happen,

for to awake two times, simply twice,

is disconcerting like a loved one slamming doors,

or cupboards slamming alone in the grip of night,

or wondering where you are on a long road,

or breathing your last breath, slipping under..

Do you dare, or do you dare?

To think that one day we shall be grand, if we survive,

and if the stars align — some intangible, superstitious force, a magnet? –

well, I won’t leave my fate up to something as stupid as that.

You’ll see, because I always bite off more than I can chew,

and sure, it seems gluttonous at first but then you realize,

the rhyme and reason for everything is there,

all you need to do is get through the bark, and with the flesh exposed –

feel free to feed on the forest for as long as you’re fit, god knows we won’t stop you..

Belch your smoke and cinders and smog and ash, feed my family to the fire alive or dead!

Those turgid fires inside the belly of the beast will eat forever, and they will eat you and me.

nothing

0
Posted by Rob on September 1, 2009 – 9:41 pm
Filed under Poetry, Writing

All I got is my family, my clique and my forefathers

and I only love blood, as it’s thicker than water

well, I’m the soul that god’s carried in for knowing that I got wondering depths,

because without zero no other numbers exist.

I’m coming from the abyss the deepest part of the flow,

go ahead and fuck around the reaper got what he sow

and profits will grow, someone speakin out for the dough

the real will  hit you in the head like a sock filled with soap,

and  there won’t be no rockin’ that ho, it’s time I’m refusin’ to waste

have you runnin’ for your life and still blue in the face

and until you’re losin’ the race, the do or die way

my Bredran, move one thousand miles on the highway to heaven,

if my day is endin’ I’m leavin’ my mark, of man who live life to believe in his heart.

I’m flesh, blood and spirit, I am a man;

though I know where I’m goin’

but don’t know where I am.

I gotta hold it down the world is mine

every second on the clock makes me swirl in time,

sometimes I’m bringin’ light to the dumb, the deaf and the blind

yet many hundreds will shine, but I be one of a kind.

Still, people are heated and show love some of the time,

tho I keep it more real than running around:

everyday is a test so I pray for the best, it’s an ongoing struggle till the day I rest,

got some weight on my chest that I just have to relieve

and if it gets any heavier, why bother to breathe?

All that I need to be is the wisest one

so I can live thru the night and see the rising sun,

I’ll be suprising some people as I’m sworn to try to live life

to the fullest except I’m born to die,

and then there’s more than “what?”,

and “when?”, “why?” and “how?” so I keep my head up

and stare at the clouds.