Eyes pass
Faces glance
Obama-is-an-eagle
Rise
Run!
Scan2
Scan1
Sparks fly
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Can Someone Make Sense of This?
Decimal says where to place the zeros, until his counterpart, Wait, arrives to dictate to Decimal where he now stands. By this time, Cents is out of the picture, unless dealing with Awkward Prices. At any rate, the collective We now sees Wait is first, but after Dollars. Dollars stands above All: Wait, Decimal, and especially Cents. Now that Cents is all but out of the picture completely, the collective We increasingly ignore him. We now looks for Wait, and then Dollars.
At some point, Dollars is off talking to Car about something, but Wait, and the color of the poster-board upon which Wait is written, don't need Dollars anyway. In this present circumstance, the collective We don't need Dollars to know what Wait is getting at,
But we need Bills to get in good with Car, to whom Dollars is still speaking.
The collective We splits at this point. Some inquires further. Others passes by uninterested.
Eventually, Some and Others realize they are different. They each see Separate and keep their distance. Grudge grows big and strong and Envy festers in the dirt. Others is upset that Some has Dollars in her pocket. Some disagrees with Others hanging out so much with Cents.
Cents tries to beat up Dollars, but gets pummeled.
Now, Others hates Dollars. Dollars is already furious because of how much time Others spent with Cents, so he gets together with Grudge and they agree to refuse to speak to Others.
Some starts to hang out with Envy now that Dollars is preoccupied with Grudge.
The swarm of characters, like an electron cloud, flurry around each other without touching. Nobody gets along anymore except Decimal and Wait, as always, but they keep their usual distance of three and more Digits.
All is convoluted. Some flickers. Others pulses. But they both keep going away and coming back, having still never spoken, except for when they discovered they were different. The collective We can be regathered - and renamed. Clustered Bunch, then, goes on, recognizing more and more the nuances that make each other different,
And as soon as Gravity arrives, Bits and Chunks of Clustered Bunch take off high-thrill. Bits is stepped on. Chunks dissolved in a river. Their siblings and cousins similarly disperse. Clustered Bunch has broken and parted into infinite individuals. These regroup and create Greater Whole. At this point, Dollars and Cents are no longer important to anybody. However, there follows the extended family, who arrive like Erosion (who slowly slips in and takes a little bit of Whole as she leaves) and Landslides (who loves Spontaneous Change and a leisurely stroll down a steady hillside). Even Dollars and Cents suffer from these. Wait may at some point move, but Decimal will survive and stick around. Greater Whole keeps on truckin' of course,
Bits, Chunks, and all the Clustered Bunch forget about each other,
But the collective We has always been friends with Greater Whole. Clustered Bunch and Bits, Chunks and Cents, Digits, even Dollars - even Decimal and Wait - are slight, compared to the companionship of the collective We and Greater Whole.
At some point, Dollars is off talking to Car about something, but Wait, and the color of the poster-board upon which Wait is written, don't need Dollars anyway. In this present circumstance, the collective We don't need Dollars to know what Wait is getting at,
But we need Bills to get in good with Car, to whom Dollars is still speaking.
The collective We splits at this point. Some inquires further. Others passes by uninterested.
Eventually, Some and Others realize they are different. They each see Separate and keep their distance. Grudge grows big and strong and Envy festers in the dirt. Others is upset that Some has Dollars in her pocket. Some disagrees with Others hanging out so much with Cents.
Cents tries to beat up Dollars, but gets pummeled.
Now, Others hates Dollars. Dollars is already furious because of how much time Others spent with Cents, so he gets together with Grudge and they agree to refuse to speak to Others.
Some starts to hang out with Envy now that Dollars is preoccupied with Grudge.
The swarm of characters, like an electron cloud, flurry around each other without touching. Nobody gets along anymore except Decimal and Wait, as always, but they keep their usual distance of three and more Digits.
All is convoluted. Some flickers. Others pulses. But they both keep going away and coming back, having still never spoken, except for when they discovered they were different. The collective We can be regathered - and renamed. Clustered Bunch, then, goes on, recognizing more and more the nuances that make each other different,
And as soon as Gravity arrives, Bits and Chunks of Clustered Bunch take off high-thrill. Bits is stepped on. Chunks dissolved in a river. Their siblings and cousins similarly disperse. Clustered Bunch has broken and parted into infinite individuals. These regroup and create Greater Whole. At this point, Dollars and Cents are no longer important to anybody. However, there follows the extended family, who arrive like Erosion (who slowly slips in and takes a little bit of Whole as she leaves) and Landslides (who loves Spontaneous Change and a leisurely stroll down a steady hillside). Even Dollars and Cents suffer from these. Wait may at some point move, but Decimal will survive and stick around. Greater Whole keeps on truckin' of course,
Bits, Chunks, and all the Clustered Bunch forget about each other,
But the collective We has always been friends with Greater Whole. Clustered Bunch and Bits, Chunks and Cents, Digits, even Dollars - even Decimal and Wait - are slight, compared to the companionship of the collective We and Greater Whole.
Monday, January 2, 2012
Mega
You are the silicon of leaking breast implants. True faith offers no reward like the cash you earn through false hope. Harangue falsity. Create Babel. Your office has space enough for two; for high-value wooden floors draped with a Bear Rug, leather couches, and 50 starving orphans. However, the orphans are missing.
Your sermons are Your sermons. And You spoke to a million people. And Your church needed 130 thousand more square feet. God must be Huge! although I didn’t find God there in Your church. I didn’t see God in the felt of Your pool tables – nor the two dead turkeys in Your office. I couldn’t see God on the banner behind Your stage nor in the prayer You said. My eye must be blind because I didn’t see God in Your gold-framed Diploma or the Ivory dagger or jeweled Indian sandals. I cried to see God in Your gold jewelry and gloating, but couldn't. You must have given him the day off.
Your sermons are Your sermons. And You spoke to a million people. And Your church needed 130 thousand more square feet. God must be Huge! although I didn’t find God there in Your church. I didn’t see God in the felt of Your pool tables – nor the two dead turkeys in Your office. I couldn’t see God on the banner behind Your stage nor in the prayer You said. My eye must be blind because I didn’t see God in Your gold-framed Diploma or the Ivory dagger or jeweled Indian sandals. I cried to see God in Your gold jewelry and gloating, but couldn't. You must have given him the day off.
Monday, November 14, 2011
Bets Laid for the Mocking Crowd
The devastating drink upon which
man lays his bet; the dusk-time red in his glass -
the glittering tonic
soothed in gin -
the warming sips through the heart and lungs when
the wheel of his roulette lays him
bare for the evening, etherized by dawn
by whiskey -
the Devil's breath its aroma;
its taste the juice of poison berries.
He returns to the drab, damp brick
in amber lights,
lays his ante, shakes dice.
A goblet of beer then for now. It's early yet.
The cards have only just been shuffled.
A shot to the evening star,
the sun's worried tear, afraid to leave man alone at night,
knowing better than he his folly. A shot, then,
to the sun's tear, slowly dripping behind horizon;
and the antagonizing stars arriving
to watch and rant, laugh and jeer, wink sinister - the demons -
saying, "We are here still. Why should you slow your drink?"
and, Oh! how man falls.
At dawn, the man
bowing bankrupt and tragic;
the last stars scornfully and laughing go away.
The sun nervously opens her eye upon this man, her face
wet with the dew of tears
she sweated through her nightmare sleep.
She prays over the fool while he sleeps
under her watchful, mourning gaze. Then,
Dusk, the ante, cards shuffled.
The roulette wheel lands on bleak.
A bet, a tear,
and a billion winking sneers.
man lays his bet; the dusk-time red in his glass -
the glittering tonic
soothed in gin -
the warming sips through the heart and lungs when
the wheel of his roulette lays him
bare for the evening, etherized by dawn
by whiskey -
the Devil's breath its aroma;
its taste the juice of poison berries.
He returns to the drab, damp brick
in amber lights,
lays his ante, shakes dice.
A goblet of beer then for now. It's early yet.
The cards have only just been shuffled.
A shot to the evening star,
the sun's worried tear, afraid to leave man alone at night,
knowing better than he his folly. A shot, then,
to the sun's tear, slowly dripping behind horizon;
and the antagonizing stars arriving
to watch and rant, laugh and jeer, wink sinister - the demons -
saying, "We are here still. Why should you slow your drink?"
and, Oh! how man falls.
At dawn, the man
bowing bankrupt and tragic;
the last stars scornfully and laughing go away.
The sun nervously opens her eye upon this man, her face
wet with the dew of tears
she sweated through her nightmare sleep.
She prays over the fool while he sleeps
under her watchful, mourning gaze. Then,
Dusk, the ante, cards shuffled.
The roulette wheel lands on bleak.
A bet, a tear,
and a billion winking sneers.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
gentle day
the lake water has gentle conversation with the shore. a cloud of birds flies just over the water and turns, whips around, and is lost in the glistening of the sun on the ripples. just following, a jetliner is seen overhead due to the reflection of sunlight off its metallic body. a crowd of ducks float by, against the current, effortlessly. a duck guffaws - "whock whuack quack!" - as if his neighbor quietly made some quip regarding the guy watching from the dock; or otherwise, startled, to say, "something just touched my foot!" the distant jet, long past, now sounds. an old war plane is heard before it passes above. it hums steadily and flies over. everything keeps moving, except for me, sitting in the sun to warm myself. the water warns the shore, "I will soon replace you." two days of rain were not enough to refill the lake, but fires burn sporadically around as homeowners catch up on yard work, long behind schedule due to the burn ban, recently lifted.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Do You Wake in the Middle of the Night and Can't Get Back to Sleep?
I woke up at 3a.m. I'm finishing Barry Lyndon now. I dozed out a few times, but didn't really sleep. So, do I start my day now? I don't know.
A whale's tail, according to dreams, is a powerful propellant against that which swims behind; and a bicycle can be peddled, with wings hoisted above that flap by a rope pulled by either arm of the rider, to fly.
Why in that house, all to myself, were those two moochers with me? These women who want to talk, have nothing to say, and never want to listen. I could say something more to them, but they don't care. They will use it as a segue, poor as it may be, to say something else of their own.
My God. I planned to buy groceries. Why did they buy four cartons of milk? And all those prepared and snack foods, overlooking produce and items with which to prepare meals? and then expect repayment for all this I do not care for? Out of my dream, women. I've a wedding for my good friend Barry Lyndon to attend.
What an outlandish wedding with all the accoutrement. Dreadfully long ceremony, disgustingly uncomfortable clothing, and everyone seems to snub each other. I'm going to hit on all the women, steal away with each for just long enough to lure their desire, then drop them, all to spite their husbands and their own snotty upittyness; and I'm going to kneel here, now that the ceremony is over and everyone is escorted to the dining hall, and disrobe; and steal this figurine, just because people with this much will not notice this is missing - why, a figurine of my dear friend Barry Lyndon!
(Oh, I see I'm closely watched by a guard. Let's see how many garments I can remove before people passing and this guard who stares on me become uncomfortable.) There, all done. To eat!
A whale's tail, according to dreams, is a powerful propellant against that which swims behind; and a bicycle can be peddled, with wings hoisted above that flap by a rope pulled by either arm of the rider, to fly.
Why in that house, all to myself, were those two moochers with me? These women who want to talk, have nothing to say, and never want to listen. I could say something more to them, but they don't care. They will use it as a segue, poor as it may be, to say something else of their own.
My God. I planned to buy groceries. Why did they buy four cartons of milk? And all those prepared and snack foods, overlooking produce and items with which to prepare meals? and then expect repayment for all this I do not care for? Out of my dream, women. I've a wedding for my good friend Barry Lyndon to attend.
What an outlandish wedding with all the accoutrement. Dreadfully long ceremony, disgustingly uncomfortable clothing, and everyone seems to snub each other. I'm going to hit on all the women, steal away with each for just long enough to lure their desire, then drop them, all to spite their husbands and their own snotty upittyness; and I'm going to kneel here, now that the ceremony is over and everyone is escorted to the dining hall, and disrobe; and steal this figurine, just because people with this much will not notice this is missing - why, a figurine of my dear friend Barry Lyndon!
(Oh, I see I'm closely watched by a guard. Let's see how many garments I can remove before people passing and this guard who stares on me become uncomfortable.) There, all done. To eat!
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