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Kosmos

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The name of the coffee shop inside the Factory,

the junkyard of your imagination, music of my day.

If you could Save yourself, this could be your home,

but an invisible Savior knocked on your apartment door

and you let Him keep you there, away from fresh air

and the stagnant atmosphere destroyed your vision.

 

 


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A Blind Man Paints

John Bramblitt

Each color has it’s own texture, the recipe of senses.

Tragedy obliterated my heart, no use crying for a smiling baby

This day I dropped her off to see Selma, some therapy no doubt

Reality is just what appears on our canvases on this one day.

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Charles Bukowski


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Throwback

Billy+Ellen+and+Me

Remember when you felt so cool all the time?

Grainy memories of invincibility and power!

Youth, they call complete idealism, experimentation.

His departure from that day is as. wide as that tie

Six decades,only a partial life, yet so momentarily weighty.


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Weep for the delicate ones

black-3-1

Shadow boxing, to appear able to defend yourself.

Your life a gossamer covering, to imagined slights.

I’m with you, repulsed by those that profess to be assured, always.

Self knowledge is reward itself for, hours spent alone, thinking in the quiet.

Unless your brain lies to you and you never meet up with your real fears.

What is certain is that this life is exquisite in all the mistakes and chaos.

Characters that we applaud along the way are the vulnerable and striving.


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Linnaeus 1753

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Spring flowers are my very best friends.

When they show their jonquil faces in garden patches,

the world is sane and the earth is solid and predictable again.

Which is how none of the rest of my life ever is.

Cursed perhaps with perennial narcisis

daffodillia in no Species Plantarium

Nonsense that must be dug up

so the worms can make earth of us all.


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He mocks scienturst

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Small minds hate that women love science

bare foot and pregnant and titrating buffers?

A “New Ager” told me he got some wetter water

from the health food store, the hydrogens

have an extra electron! I said not one word!

I was accused by a stranger for not using

scientific thinking to dispel spirituality from my life

If Albert has a way of incorporating miracles

I am walking barefoot right behind him on this beach


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Telling Stories

Michelle Crawford 29

She retreated into a dark room,

unable to think anything but what a loser she had become.

The stories repeated about a pulled tooth, an imperfect cervix.

The Glass Menagerie is coming so I used the story that Williams

bore great guilt when returning home to find his sister had a botched

lobotomy. Made weighing 175 lbs not seem like the end of her world,

for just one brief moment. Then the insanity returns. How to change

enough to exit this room and return to hopefulness. None of her own

stories have any truth anymore. Paranoia locks her inside day after day.

Stories can jar one somehow to return to the world and try reality.