Drawings and Poetry

These works don't have titles. I've placed drawings between the poems to separate them, but adjacent items are not necessarily related (unless you find them so, in which case I meant it all along.)


Nurtured in a nest of saws
Suckled from a neon teat
Spiral bound and quadrille ruled
Forged and fattened in deciet
I once was drowning in these rapids
Now I've learned to swim with ease
The child that tried to pull me under
Spins painlessly away downstream.

drawing #1

Indifference, and the urge to fly
Naked and unfettered in a cloudless sky
Indifferent as the moon above
The teeming throng
The stoop-backed lock-step
That replaces song.
Indifferent to their prison, I long to be
Circling in silence, soaring free
Too soon my eyes will open, my dream will fade
The wind and stars indifferent to my sterile cage
My feet relearn the cadence, join the file
Of scarecrows full of holes, with concave smiles.

drawing #2

Lifted in a storm of words
Why am I so cold?
I shout and no one seems to hear
Why am I so cold?
Faces chew the air around me
Silencing my shrinking voice
Billowing the cold surrounds me
Freezing my unfinished choice.

drawing #3

Loneliness has come to visit
To spend the day with me
I bounce it on my knee and tell it lies.
I turn it in my hands
And like a gem it entertains me
Revealing every second another facet I despise.

drawing #4

The paint is peeling from the idols
Divinity reverts to stone
The hairless ape is mute with wonder
To find himself,
At once
Alone.

No parent smiles on his achievements
No judge condemns his cruelty
Man licks his lips, his grin unbounded
To find that he is truly free.

With appetite his only conscience
With bloodstains on his iron feet
He peels the planet like an orange
And ravenous, sits down to eat.

As knives and tyrants rise and fall
And evil infants kill for pride,
Man rakes his face in feral frenzy
A god consumed in suicide.

drawing #5

My window darkens like a choking child
As evening's tide seeps down into the earth
I open gritty seeds that pass for eyes
Another day closer to death than birth.

I lie awake and struggle to recall
While listening to bones relearn their place
The sense of purpose youth allowed to bloom
Before maturity struck this eroded face.

drawing #6

I live behind a window.
A blizzard of color races past, but always beyond the pane. I try to touch but all I feel is cold, smooth, and featureless.
People stop and peer inside, trying to see who lives behind the window. But they see only their own reflections, and leave, satisfied. That's all they ever wanted.
The scene outside the window is small and garish, and the same parade passes by every day. The window is really just an ant farm, shoved so close to my eyes that I can't see the edges.
When I tire of watching the ants I turn away from the window. My side of the pane is as vast and wild as the rain forest, but it is always night. The window illuminates only a small circle of a limitless jungle. Sometimes I leave the window altogether, stumble into the dark to explore. I light a camp fire of weeds, and fantastic figures caper at the edge of sight, urging me further into the darkness. Someday I'll wander too far, and lose sight of the window forever.


drawing #7

Myopic, bitter faces
Eclipse my square of sky,
Jeering at the ragged tracks
Of bleeding hands
On sweating stone.

With the ashes that surround me
Smear my name across the walls
Scream until I feel alone
Or cease to feel at all.

And when I dream they wake me
And when I cry they sneer
And why I'm here I can't remember
But I know I volunteered.

drawing #8

From high atop the withered peak
I see
The lamps of Desolation blind the Sun
Vast human hand that seals the sky
And stills the cry
Of bird and beast and blade of grass.

That rare, capricious wind which swirled
The dust to rise and dance and shriek,
Is silenced in the lee of Man.
The world's becalmed, and onward, dreaming, drifts.

The blue-white pearl spins round
The trackless void, through trackless time,
No slower for the silence of its skies
And soon the wind again will rise
And strange new starfish crawl upon the shores.

drawing #9

And a couple of punk songs:


Eat Me

The sunlight warms my face, it fills my eyes
I feel the life run through my veins
This road is hard beneath my feet
But the only proof of life is pain.

I bite the fruit and watch it bleed
Taste the flesh separate the bone
Death always gives me all I need
My body made from others' bones.

But at my back I always hear
The crashing surf, the swelling crowd
The pavement cracks beneath my feet
My body melts into the ground.

I never asked to be alone
My body goes its separate ways
A thousand lives are born
To struggle toward the warmth
Of sunlight on the surface of my grave.


None of the Above

If the cops don't want to beat you senseless
The priests will rob you blind
And the watch I wear to tell my sentence
Just a fucking waste of time.

Now I really try to listen
When you tell me how it is
But the helping hand you ask of me
Feels better in a fist

None of the above
Really care what I see
Smoking metal, broken glass
Do the angels who protect you
Give a damn about me
I put my faith in
None of the above

There's the smiling father figure
Daddy can I touch your hand?
A shining god of neon glitter
My bullet proves he's just a man

All now rise and come to order
Take the life that you deserve
Slash and Burn ain't just for farming
Time for all of you to learn...

None of the above give a damn about me
Look me over, turn the page
Sick of waiting in the dark for that special Sunday
When the keeper falls inside the cage.

drawing #10

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