tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83920308003682914742024-03-08T05:47:30.391-08:00Every Bark a BiterGGLAShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13547465655741276881noreply@blogger.comBlogger19125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8392030800368291474.post-18088992309555819872010-06-24T20:49:00.001-07:002010-06-24T20:49:35.637-07:00I shall do it and keep my mouth shut.GGLAShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13547465655741276881noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8392030800368291474.post-58906945486925810622010-05-27T21:19:00.000-07:002010-05-27T21:24:21.676-07:00A basic SavageryI once wrote a poem<br />That I thought was of me<br />A song of myself<br />A person to be<br /><br />But upon further inspection<br />And deeper reflection<br />It came to the surface that alone<br />Is not to be<br /><br />In fact to find alone is not to be<br />And not not to be<br />But not to see<br />Not to hear not to feel<br />Not to want<br />But dark<br /><br />For to be is the inverse of me<br />It is, fact, the we<br /> <br />I saw it creeping through the black<br />Leaving behind a golden track<br /><br />It still reminds me<br />From under the rock<br />From under the shade and<br />The safety and security and hate and cynicism<br /><br />Every once in awhile<br />It comes to the party in a black cocktail dress<br />Showing just enough leg…<br /><br />Just enough to wonder what’s beyond<br />But Christ we all know what’s there<br />“Why yes I know him<br />Indeed, the thickest of skins<br />A real man’s man<br />Oh What a deer<br />Vest he is wearing…”<br /><br />I saw it creeping through the black<br />Leaving behind a Golden TRACK<br /><br />A hunter, a gatherer, an assimilator are they<br />A curdling crisp air built in a flood plaine<br />THOMAS what a coincidence a derivative<br />Of the word and of the paine<br /><br />The inverse of me<br />Is we<br />Without we cannot be<br />The inverse of meGGLAShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13547465655741276881noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8392030800368291474.post-26208311252080343532010-05-17T20:18:00.001-07:002010-05-17T20:18:28.576-07:00EuterpeThis happens, doesn’t it<br />Everything has a volume<br /><br />Not an empty or full volume, no<br />It’s all empty and full<br />But a volume<br /><br />And I am turning them all down<br />Not consciously<br />But so consciously that I don’t even<br />Know<br /><br />And that’s always been the secret<br />Hasn’t it?<br />Live, dead, meaning, not meaning<br />Bright happy happening fiction<br /><br />Volumes of knowledge and experience and life<br />A simple knob creates one from the other<br />God’s fairest equalizerGGLAShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13547465655741276881noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8392030800368291474.post-37515126725867219572010-05-17T20:08:00.001-07:002010-05-17T20:17:59.278-07:005th gear<br />the fragile<br /><br />a metaphysical bug zapper<br />at 1400<br /><br />headed due southeast<br />I Saw him<br /><br />Dressed in denim shovel<br />In hand the savior had come<br /><br />He was no diviner<br />No soothsayer<br />But a simpleton in<br /><br />“necessary” garb<br /><br />for he repaired while we slept<br />shielded from our cast aversions<br />he creates lines for us to dwell upon<br />and within our lives<br /><br />lines connect<br />lines divide<br /><br />that bug zapper, the lines were pulling me in<br />who is this mystery, such thankless work it is<br />repairing these lines<br /><br />thankless for a reason<br />i’m sure as hell not thankfulGGLAShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13547465655741276881noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8392030800368291474.post-81754580324157363022010-05-03T07:56:00.001-07:002010-05-03T08:00:36.810-07:00a prayerWhat, did you see Galileo<br />When, gazing through your<br />Glass, eye<br /><br />Why, did it blind you so<br />What, was the empirical fool<br />To, gain from such meta <br />end, deavours<br /><br />what, if your eye were diseased<br />where, did you find hope then<br />were, you not more lost after seeing<br />nothing, now seeing nothing but<br />knowing, and having seen everything<br />now, nothing<br /><br />why, should the light blind you so<br />why, is the light thereGGLAShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13547465655741276881noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8392030800368291474.post-30613984180526002362010-04-29T07:55:00.001-07:002010-05-03T07:58:34.306-07:00MetamorphosisIcarus has come between me and the sun<br />His void is a wasteland<br />An ethereal longitude<br />All things shall pass<br /><br />At home with the sweat<br />Drip from his concerned brow<br />But fearless<br /><br />It is an opera of hoops and hollers<br />That keeps Hektor<br />That nothing is O K<br />Constant threat and change<br /><br />That he is constantly inadequate<br />Constantly at odds<br />And constantly tested by<br />The men in white coats and their<br />Spears and shields<br /><br />This is peace of mind in war<br />Fear dwells in the dust<br />And apathy<br />So let it not settle<br /><br />Be not content with the music<br />Sirens oh the sirens<br />It is not cute and there is no solace in it<br />Vapid charybdis hides in these crystalline waters<br /><br />I can hear their whispers <br />A temptationless whisper is a howling feral dog<br />I float above behind my (e)yesGGLAShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13547465655741276881noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8392030800368291474.post-66545151256152578172010-04-18T21:23:00.001-07:002010-04-18T21:40:56.061-07:00Never leave home without your hammer, a word with the OrientalsAre such sporadic incantations<br />Of inebriation<br />Harbingers<br /><br />Flares, desperate screams<br />By some bestial lord jim<br />Drowning in a sea of<br />Gramophones<br /><br />~ OH GOOD SIR, YOUR MANNERS ARE QUITE KIND~<br /><br />eccentric exo-centric ex-centric<br /><br />Why’s wise is why is wise why<br />Is why’s why is why wise wise<br />Is why why’s why wise<br /><br />Devastator<br />Manipulator<br /><br />Verdant foliage <br />chromatic ecstatic<br /><br />It is bad when one thing becomes two. It is the same for anything that is called a Way. If one understands things in this manner, he should be able to hear about all Ways and be more and more in accord with his own.GGLAShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13547465655741276881noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8392030800368291474.post-2313424587368097632010-04-18T20:34:00.000-07:002010-04-18T20:35:11.545-07:00A Brief ReposeThe setting sun a contrast<br />To the spring of our lives<br />Reckless<br />Final stop of our day<br /><br />Approach the base of the temple<br />Take off your shoes the children are watching<br />Start circling, stalking your prey<br />warmth<br /><br />First flight of stairs <br />and my cold feet are browned<br />a smiling priest excuses us<br />I had a fear of heights<br /><br />Second flight of stairs<br />The incense are burning like<br />The breath of great Achilles<br />A funeral pyre of cowardice and foolishness<br />Clouding the sky<br />Emanates from the center<br /><br />Third flight of stairs<br />Out of breath but how many<br />A six armed shiva in this lonely place<br /><br />Arrive at the top<br />Wind between our hair<br />The pinnacle of an empty lighthouse<br />First time in the center, there is less<br />At the peak than at the bottomGGLAShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13547465655741276881noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8392030800368291474.post-41305959193095020362010-04-11T11:05:00.001-07:002010-04-11T11:05:12.387-07:00Stoic<br />Advice for circumnavigation<br />Leaves much to be desired<br />And little to the imagination<br /><br />Such talk leaves me feeling uninspired<br />Subject only to objectification<br /><br />And as we sat in the café on searing<br />Bright days my thoughts drift back<br />To the mountains<br /><br />Those rubber claws failed in my<br />Descent from the heavens<br />A fall, staring and grasping for the<br />Surface as it slips away<br />Like any other day<br /><br />The snow gentle pats my<br />Broken back I lie staring<br />Upward feeling peaceful but<br />Not safe<br /><br />“Your check when you’re ready”<br />the quiet walk home <br />amongst all the leaves<br />is too quietGGLAShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13547465655741276881noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8392030800368291474.post-8838180670932219972010-04-05T17:59:00.001-07:002010-04-05T18:07:19.326-07:00Breath of a Dying dream<br />your sanguine tunic<br />is not welcome here<br /><br />your buddy is waiting outside<br />"COME ON DUDE, CALM DOWN"<br />your platitudes and attitude<br />are a plague upon this house<br /><br />You once flowed with honesty<br />nervous, maybe, not<br />But this Icarus has found his<br />home outside the extinguished flames<br /><br />such a dilapidated place it is<br />with termitic Victorian paneling<br />creaking floors Sirens cry<br />when the rocks were falling where<br />was your Sistine Chapel<br />When in the summer of our youths<br />you unhorsed our grace<br /><br />What have you become<br />What have you made us<br /><br />Five fingers penetrate the blissful air<br />Dagny Dagny Dagny<br />fledgling whispers are no match<br />for the ethereal symphonies<br /><br />and there was no hope in this bottom<br />less pittances, and this womb has<br />become crowded and perspiring<br />Throbbing hoping to be called upon<br /><br />Those satisfactions minutiae for<br />glass jawed students of TiresiasGGLAShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13547465655741276881noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8392030800368291474.post-13856998642856559112010-04-01T09:04:00.001-07:002010-04-05T18:11:36.498-07:00A palate<br /><br />A serious of sweeps<br />A series of dents<br />A traditional buttress<br />A screeching anarchy<br />A fist fight<br /><br />The rush<br />The catharsis<br />The release<br />The refraction<br /><br />Shared<br />Perceived<br />Absorbed<br /><br /><br />Impotent in the hands of a young<br />man<br />but intent<br />Why?<br />One plucked from the sky by<br />an arbitrary wisp<br />a fate<br />harbinger<br /><br />Dropped<br />Sun must’ve been in the eyes<br />A leather seeing glass fails<br />but perchance it is not over...<br /><br />Will there be another <br />Possibly<br />Will the next buck<br />Remember the cruel visage<br />of a dying child<br />Definitely<br /><br />How many will die<br />on the hells of the next incarnationGGLAShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13547465655741276881noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8392030800368291474.post-72594245951394977642010-03-23T15:13:00.001-07:002010-04-01T09:30:27.730-07:00Moshabbemy jaw cracks<br />in brimstonish schism<br />this forest is too small<br />to be shared by such brutish hunters<br /><br />cast off into obscurity<br />by a false necromancer<br />a singer of charms<br />she sits among millions<br />but so deafeningly alone<br /><br />taunting solipsism<br />shameless mule<br />you are no martyr<br />no honest manGGLAShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13547465655741276881noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8392030800368291474.post-86409420335785160702010-03-23T14:55:00.001-07:002010-03-23T15:08:45.195-07:00every line ever met<br />has been a liar<br /><br />I stand here now<br />a collection <br />of these mischievous lines<br /><br />for lines are little<br />more than shadows<br />and what is what but<br />a collection of shadows<br /><br />i cast my own lines<br />here and there<br />struggling to keep them disciplined<br />but just as the ones i take<br />they are not to be tamed by<br />one man<br />or any men<br /><br />symbols, chemicals, equations<br />ideas, emotions, perceptions<br />multitudes<br />lines<br />there is no form in creation<br />but in manipulation and summationGGLAShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13547465655741276881noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8392030800368291474.post-54205337854205064402010-03-22T10:52:00.001-07:002010-03-23T00:50:10.396-07:00under reconstructioncurrently a work in progressGGLAShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13547465655741276881noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8392030800368291474.post-72444233614121910732010-03-21T20:39:00.000-07:002010-03-21T20:45:00.434-07:00What would it be<br />if everything were singular<br /><br />one meaning<br /><br />would the world be happier?<br />or would it be a computer<br />a wasteland of simple things<br />and peaceful<br /><br />would the artist exist<br />would we dance<br />or have anything to dance about<br /><br />do we divorce this idea from our psyches<br />is this what we seek<br />Fuck peace<br />Fuck kind words and fuck agreement<br />everything in life is fighting forGGLAShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13547465655741276881noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8392030800368291474.post-51434309175564786792010-03-21T20:38:00.001-07:002010-03-21T20:38:54.095-07:00GET A PHONE, PUNKGGLAShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13547465655741276881noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8392030800368291474.post-38673960986299673782010-03-20T09:14:00.000-07:002010-03-20T09:15:26.242-07:00<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:documentproperties> <o:template>Normal.dotm</o:Template> <o:revision>0</o:Revision> <o:totaltime>0</o:TotalTime> <o:pages>1</o:Pages> <o:words>20</o:Words> <o:characters>117</o:Characters> <o:company>UPENN</o:Company> <o:lines>1</o:Lines> <o:paragraphs>1</o:Paragraphs> <o:characterswithspaces>143</o:CharactersWithSpaces> <o:version>12.0</o:Version> </o:DocumentProperties> <o:officedocumentsettings> <o:allowpng/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> 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mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> <p style="font-family: courier new;" class="MsoNormal">damngirlLocomotive</p> <p style="font-family: courier new;" class="MsoNormal">whatstrangeloveyouareMAD</p> <p style="font-family: courier new;" class="MsoNormal">scarykidscaringkidsscaring</p> <p style="font-family: courier new;" class="MsoNormal">everywordburnsmymouth</p> <p style="font-family: courier new;" class="MsoNormal">butitastesogoodand</p> <p style="font-family: courier new;" class="MsoNormal">thehurtmakestronger</p> <p style="font-family: courier new;" class="MsoNormal">memories</p> <!--EndFragment-->GGLAShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13547465655741276881noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8392030800368291474.post-60706315491231327212010-03-19T10:37:00.000-07:002010-03-19T10:46:16.559-07:00the trees must be giggling<br />while we smile with shattered hearts<br />and mended teeth<br />for wisps of breeze and rustle of leaves<br /><br />the trees must be giggling<br />at hissy fits and hamlet's wit<br />and passing cars<br />drollGGLAShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13547465655741276881noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8392030800368291474.post-184244223088553312010-03-18T17:45:00.000-07:002010-03-19T10:40:25.164-07:00this wasn't inevitably going to happen<xml style="font-family: courier new;"> <o:documentproperties> <o:template></o:template><o:version></o:version> </o:documentproperties><o:officedocumentsettings><o:allowpng></o:allowpng></o:officedocumentsettings><!--[endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> 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mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">BENITO CERENO MY DEAR FRIEND WHY SO PALE?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">each rock of the boat upsets my guts</p> <p class="MsoNormal">We embarked early in the morning, full of zest, without apprehension.<span style=""> </span>As we progressed we grew hungrier…I would’ve expected satisfaction but quite the opposite.<span style=""> </span>There will come a point when we are too weak to speak. when truth is untruth, then we will arrive.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">stale bread broken head</p> <p class="MsoNormal">solipsist whispers</p> <p class="MsoNormal">accosting glares</p> <p class="MsoNormal">denizens salivate</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">stear down</p> <p class="MsoNormal">sirens why?</p> <p class="MsoNormal">horizons and more lines</p> <p class="MsoNormal">tangential inebriation DECEIT</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Tie me down boys, we’re going!</p> <p class="MsoNormal">A lion’s roar cauchemar is only beginning</p> <p class="MsoNormal">here and now</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I asked my computer what he thought today</p> <p class="MsoNormal">He had so many opinions he didn’t think anything</p> <p class="MsoNormal">He knew even less</p> <p class="MsoNormal">He wasn’t oddly polite…</p> <!--EndFragment--></xml>GGLAShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13547465655741276881noreply@blogger.com0