Past

Mixed media drawing by Carne Griffiths

The exhaustion cuts, shards-of-broken-mirror style, contusions in the psyche realizing there have been twenty-eight jobs in fourteen years since I started my first at age fifteen. (To Joshua’s twenty-three since sixteen.) My mind experiences it most acutely, always trying so hard just to pay rent and maybe eat something, and of course the incessant criticism that chides, “And you’re glorifying God, how exactly?” Then the body manifests the fatigue, and at last the spirit gives in. And I’m not even counting the nights at Ralph’s in Costa Mesa where he would take glamour shots for eighty bucks, or making aspen bar stools and scattering the wood shavings in the forest, or dealing Texas Hold’em Read More

Partitions

Map of Kathmandu (see Credit below)

 

In attempt to love them
Yea, I become them
Before no walls were there.
Now built round
Notion of in-and-out has height,
Keeps out the sunlight,
Of home-and-world… Read More

Dirge

Drawing by Guy Denning

Beyond tired of getting strung along by God. And the destination, only God knows; could be Calvary freakin Hill for all I know. Blindly dragged, hoping we’re on our last leg to paradise. Ha. Though further and further we trudge, to an off-key rusted trombone dirge, slooooww, yet never Read More

Gilt Indigo Lips

Painting by Jarek “Khaal” Kubicki

What happens when you see no end
To the blues and faraway song, your only friend
And there’s no sheep in your flock to tend
And you try to play but it hurts to pretend
Ain’t nothin fallin down to amend
Cuz you’ve made yourself able to bend
All the way to the ground
Because it’s all turned all around
You think down is up and up, a playground
Where lost children go to be found
By open arms and lips that make not a sound
But the kisses that say, ‘how bout another round?’ Read More

Climate Change

I want to awake at dawn

And with the finality of the seventh day, say:

“It’s done.”

(Or better yet) have no memory of that

Long night.

I want the culprits of sex-traffic to awake

Beating their own breasts

Compassion like filial love pours forth like

Virgin blood. Read More

God’s Fault

http://tr-art-literature.blogspot.co.il/2012/03/pavel-guzenko.html?m=1

Painting by Pavel Guzenko

What system are you going to fabricate tonight?

A clear way to discern black from white?

In which all spoken intuitive fiction

Can become, once and for all, conviction?

Or will it be a new solar one

In which bodies of mystical mass

‘Circle’ a serene and older sun Read More