Thursday, March 27, 2014

Half Me

I see him and wish he were mine.
Wish my influence wasn't so bound
To the minute and second hands of our environ.

Everyday he smiles, and though fleetingly,
I find that I'm staring at myself
A carbon copy from another universe;
I try my best to warn him
Accolade him when apropos
Joke with him that I couldn't be his dad
When in truth, I could so be.

He is the culmination of my fears and possibilities
Slipping further away to that unknown place
Not quite regret;
He is the hand I've longed to take
Since I was a boy
'Three sons' I'd said, before I realized
Responsibility and reproduction often now
Do not go hand-in-hand;
His is the face I see when she walks by
And I genetically and
Visually splice an offspring.

Maybe that's why it also sickens me to see him,
This dream,
Behind my eyelids so long, I know it when I'm awake,
Because as long as I'm here,
Others will come
And I can only hope this feeling
As with all things reconciled
Will pass away
Each time the mirror of ages reminds
That it all ends with me
And nothing will go on...


I can't stop thinking
The effect has me full
Yet wanting still to cup my hands beneath the stream
Of sober intoxication
Inebriated wisdom
That clarity which arrives
On steeds wild
Free to trample the plains of my mind
As they race ahead of reality's front,
Ominously approaching.

Until Then

I'd like to think he waited till midnight
With his thoughts, anticipations,
All there, just outside her door.

I passed him twice.

First pass, about ten-thirty
He was a romantic
Roses in in hand
The really real ones
Not the dyed bodega ones,
They were the ones of passion
A romantic maybe attempting
To right some relationship injustice
He could've partaken in
Or just an honest surprise
In that temple of hope
That this sacrifice would bring about
In the form of conjoining souls,
Maybe even his, as I have no idea who existed behind that door.

Second pass
Just before slumber
Or at least the attempt of,
He seemed broken
A soldier who's witnessed too much
And is courting defeat within his mind.

The roses still bundled
Now lay across his lap
Attempting a slumber of their own;
He stared into his digital vortex
Tearing away a moment only
To glance my way;
Those eyes said
'you know how it goes bro'
In their attempt to maintain masculinity,
Though I reckon they'd laid at his feet by that point
Understanding sooner than his heart could comprehend
The door was not going to open.
Someone was not coming home.

I'd like to think he waited until midnight,
There's something romantic about it;
Can't say I would've done the same,
But what a comfort that in this world
The hopeless,
Or is it hapless romantic
Still exist
And subtlety
Still manages to have a place
In matters of love and the fairytales spawned...

Sunday, March 23, 2014

I, Chris

In my latest dream
You did devour
Predator to the prey
We didn't get real far
Which one of us could be me
2nd dream
Which would be you?
No shelter near
I think I've soured
On the taste of you
And yet I pursue
Driver grasping this wheel
Attempting to traverses this pain

Could that be me?
Could that be you?

I need to grow up
Stop looking for those jewels in the rain
Steady downpour of truth and loneliness
But not just you
Hiding behind the boast of others;
I fear I'm drowning.

Diamonds in the rainbow
Add a sparkle to the struggle
A sparkle to the diamonds
Created of the pressures of this existence.

Pie Jesu?
Can you find the time to listen?
Mind you find the time to learn?
I am but an answer to some form of equation
To barely seeing the heat
As I'm caught within article eyes
Making it impossible to sense anything but the night
Hold on;
This thing haunting
With every turn in the road  of existence.

Wraith of my conscious
Holds on
Dead eyes set to number I think
Slowly and deliberate...
To number one
Beginning endlessly this journey
To the depths of me
And as always,
The destruction I crave so.

Monday, March 10, 2014

Funky Underground

I am dedicating this piece to Earnie Gardner for providing the moment which inspired this. It has been sitting in a journal for almost 2yrs now, but sang to me of release. Enjoy!

"Funky Underground"

The big one
Barry White beard
Plucked his lady gentle
While the young one
Made true those dreams
As he sat in class
No. 2's in either hand
Drumming out the sounds
That pave the way to coolness
Women's secret places
And enough free drinks
To make a belly proud.

Keyboards light
Almost lost
In the over-bassed reverberations
Of this tiny place
With this tiny band
Making a gargantuan sound of ecstasy
Which laid down
Smooth and deliberate memories
Of a time
When all I wished for
Was a set of parents
Who cursed a bit
Drank a little
And danced in a way
That would make church ladies whisper
But would keep them young
And make me proud at some point to say,
They lived
Providing a sense of reality and balance.

Members came and went
Along a tour through the ages
Of sound
Moving from simplistic
Universal beats
To complicated matters of the heart
And all those polyester snapshots
Everyone smiling
Because we at the time
Were closer to possibility
And moving on up
To our delux forty acres
Underneath the the sky-eye-eye
Despite a cancer that grew among us
To destroy us;
Then again
Maybe that's just evolution inevitable...

For the moment though,
I couldn't care
Transported on this added violin
Taking me down home
Even amongst the urban of this place;
Saw their eyes roll back
The pure fulfillment of competence
As B-B's look-alike modernized
Caressed his Lucille
Climaxing her,
Not to mention a few ladies in the crowd
Upon it's feet
An ocean of worshipers
In this house of blue funk
Watching these disciples
Break the bread of truth
Drink the spirit of time
At least for music
So many wish to return to
Beyond studio confines
There where it joins with the masses
Simultaneously building
And tearing down
The houses of our being

Stage 2

4am on a Thursday morning
And now you move on to stage 2.

Fate and sickness interrupted my dreams
Caused me to pick up my brilliant playground and wander;
Or so I thought,
Because moments later, there you were
Signaling me
Strumming my conscious with your need
For an explanation of events
You think you are ready to hear.

As with step one,
I understand.
It's just the process of things
Evolution of the heart and mind's workings
Still ultimately as mysterious as death;
Words which now and
Will reverberate an entirety of new meanings
Within your mind
Because I was number one...
In this one way,
And could never be,
Should never be,
But so need to be
In every other.

Think on it a while.
Connect the dots of yesterdays and tomorrows
And as I have so often
So shall you too understand every pieces placement
Upon this chess set we've named existence.

I know,
It's not what you want to hear right now
What you will never want to hear...
But this is stage 2
And nothing I divulge at this time will matter
Despite your thinking it would.
Now there's only the simmer of time
As you've turned things over and over in sorrow and hurt
And are just waiting for this course to be done;
The dishes which leave the best taste take time
And there are many more to flow.