December 2011
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Love Fragment No. 5
Dirty emeralds under Well played mascara:
Background forever Waiting for the perfect silence.
Nitid.
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Gradient Perspective: 2
Joe: I know nothing about the man who died before me. In all truth, he was a tragically placed piece of meat. I learned little. The universe is least effective when posing as an expressionist, assigning bright colors and emotions arbitrarily.
……(ahem)….I speak in tongues but there can be no poignancy. I am a cold, listless wax in search of any and all heat in which to destroy...
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Operations
I imagine
God is a self-obsessed teenage cutter.
Like a small-town hot-topic,
The desperate are only always attracted;
Jelly bracelets, etc.
Fools drown in his
self-righteous cum and blood (which is most often disguised as ashes)
but
all that is known is that
God needs something better than
a slightly dull pocket knife.
My grandfather of 86
years limps home
with a foreign cross
...
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Just Thoughts
Frankly I
Find
Most of my poems
Arouse my throbbing, pretentious cock
Rather than my heart.
To that effect I am working on my first children’s book for adults. This is an exercise in non masturbation.
I’m looking for holy nun cunt status.
Discipline is so very debilitating to the untrained.
TTFN
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Vision Quest: K
Then and now;
Your touch stretches supine
Over oh so many rotund, ribbed river stones.
Easing this obstinate Gurgling of thought.
Tumbling anew all the wrinkles: Brain, face, and otherwise.
Coloring me replete as grey,
Compressed and immutable,
I’ll see if I cant get 3 hops From these skittering stone memories of mine…
Other banks live lavishly beyond my most desperate throws.
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How Love Come Winter
Likely stories, poorly rendered,
promises never kept or counted repaired.
Chrysalises gradually threading,
Ebbing,
Encroaching upon nubian vericose branches
Wind always meant to break asunder anyway.
If only to prove the feebleness of any and all who go for the latch-on.
Lest leeches learn to spit and spin blood shelters…. Now there’s a sure-fire work in progress.
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“God Takes Care of Himself
and you of you”
– Isaac Brock (Modest Mouse)
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fleurdesol-deactivated20120930 asked: welcome back to the internet! how were finals?
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Spain
He sought a catharsis from this untimely webbed silence,
And plodded towards the drop-off point
Of his lingering conscience:
The last delicate tooth of the
Last kitchen knife (Its a ‘chef’ knife. Ok. Chef knife)
she left him have.
She never trusted him anyway.
Untrained, uncovered, unscathed, unused,
Knowing the joys of being used in life,
he finally took pity upon something or...
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intellectualtreason asked: Why haven't you listened to Mr. Cox's newest Atlas Sound album? I'm a huge fan. PS worth seeing at the church?
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Rumi Quotes I Can't Get Over (in no order)
I love reading Rumi. Here are 5 of his musings I have been reading over lately. Plz n-joy.
1. From the poem “Not A Day On Any Calendar”:
‘Spring, and everything outside is growing,
even the tall cypress tree.
We must not leave this place.
Around the lip of the cup we share, these words,
My Life Is Not Mine.’
2. From the poem “The Blocked Road”:
...
fleurdesol-deactivated20120930 asked: yo I know you said you wanted to see Deerhunter, but Atlas Sound is playing at the church 12/16. $15. it's not Deerhunter, but it's still Bradford Cox! :)
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Imagery by Pound
The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
Petals on a wet, black bough.
-Ezra Pound
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Memory 1: Doctors, Obnoxious Cars, Etc.
I remember as a kid, my pediatrician used to whisper dirty jokes and the sweetest of nothings to my idiot mother during our visits. Delicate wisps and lisps of sexual tension bloomed between them, as they empedded poorly worded sex jokes inside each others ears.
It was fucking awkward getting a physical enough as a kid, but when your doctor is squeezing your nuts like they are in a vice grip as...
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Desires (Journal Entry 1)
I will create a band known as “The Lead Zeppelin” and we will release 1 album of quiet genius, then disband permanently. The album will be called “Stairways to Heaven” and will include the longest of guitar solos, shattering the most brittle of pricks and picks.
My friends and I, we’re shit out of luck. If pooled together, the amount of psychotropic drugs we use as...
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