Posts Tagged Fear

I Try Not to Slip Away from Who I Want to Be

 

We fixed you,

made you modern.

What would the windows do

when you have aluminum?

 

And lines, old lines, tan split by old,

above-ground lines, split by a

telephone pole, hand-carved sitting

by the door that would not allow you in

unless you showed your whole face

in the tiny box.

 

Oh but we opened a nice front

on the side and more aluminum

and now there are sadly-ripped papers

glued and taped to that window,

 

that door and the painting

on the window

look so stale, as if to be dead.

 

We gave you plenty of spots

but you sit there with

empty slices of bored, and

sleepy gravel,

waiting for action,

waiting for

the brightness of the energy

we need. And then,

 

and then,

and then,

would you watch that concrete

on the front?

 

Did we fix you, old man, or what?

No more curves or gaps or carvings.

We gave you 50s slab,

and if you don’t like it,

bang your head against that slithery, slimy wall.

 

until you bleed,

and the aluminum

laughs at you again and again.

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America, 2016, Unnumbered, Crashing Crumbles Aboard My Late Train

Confusion

from concrete, crumbles

spray grain dust,

curling light,

crushing spirits that fly, creeps

crimping my dead brain.

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Yet another Dystopia Today shot from the amateur Carl in some very small town (somewhere hidden in the midwest) sometime late in the Summer of 2016.

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When the lightness of sky, darkened and shattered by winter branches, showed me my fears

Pierce my will-

ingness, make me sail

over shocked

towers fir-

ing waves, that iron jumps, kill-

ing angst, making m’love.

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Two Days Ago, That Joy, So Repressed

Like a dog,

I stretch, legs brittle,

brain panting,

paws digging,

that joy, so repressed, hanging,

chained inside, broken.

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How Might I Squash That Fear?

Later, I remem-

ber being stricken

by dread of

what they felt:

How much did they spy rummag-

ing beneath the crust?

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Running, Canvassing Balm, Treasuring Dark Insides

Crawling search

toward warming sun

and power,

she reigns su-

preme when I plead for rescue,

my guts float on, lost.

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New, No, Not Again

Flat channels divide

dangerous pathways my brain

seems to love, darkly,

so I plunge deeply to find

large oak branches, parallel,

 

for hanging is good

for dead, stolen spirits fly-

ing, bumping rocks of

hatred, and here I blast through

nothingness, leaving traces.

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Today, Briefly, Trying to Be Good

Forcing myself into the death chair,
thinking, now I’ve got it, now I will do

what it is I lie to myself about being
mandatory, feeling so disciplined when

really, I’m alarmed at how close to
nothingness I have become, and that

dark crevice where inspiration lies
is filled with contempt for being,

and the doctor might try, but the
required self hatred fills the hole.

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Love Will Save You, I Heard, But It Won’t Save Me

The sound that rakes
my spirit plows my flimsy,
rotten body into mountains,

my crinkly spirit sailing undetected, above,
deluding my desires, spying the molten
bodies fixed beneath me, still inspiring the

mangled part that strives to sink into
a starless eternity, without fear, leaving me
wondering why I’m still breathing and why

music from concrete geniuses ices my
soul in orange heat that won’t
annihilate me, no matter the will, and my body

moving poorly, rotten man that I am, nothing
improving, self hatred fatiguing,
but still breathing, struggling to remember

that this was all a tortured gift.

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I Want a Robot (4)

to cover the streets I run
with hot caramel, helping stop
the best people and he, the robot,

could look like me, but
everything about him would
be loving, gracious serenity.

I’d be fooling the best
people while I read the
best books about what it’s like

to live, too afraid to do it.

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