images

tigerlilies swilling from trenchcoats in the grass
mist on the green plot
black coats turning from the tombstone in a dance
and prayer
in their coats

(i am going to just quit here. i can't think of anything at all today). exit music by vampire weekend is really, really, good. flathead by the fratellis as well. space monkeys by placebo. others too. but didn't write them down. "middle of nowhere" by hot hot heat is so good. wow. good job canadian band. actually, i've noticed a lot of bands or artists i've thought were american are canadian. t his is a very good band, strong melodies and good lyrics. "ball of twine" by louis xii. there are some outstanding lyricists and musicians out there now. in the alternative/indie genre and esp. i think on the uk, aust, can. end of things. some really good american bands too, and i think the killers are probably at the top for melody and lyrics in their genre. but i'm suprised. i have been listening to this style more but the thing is, it's sometimes a little darker so i pace myself. too much and then i need krause or hip hop or something more upbeat. we are scientists is a great ny band: "can't lose". lol. totally cracks me up bc i can relate or have been able to relate. must be the same personality type. Travis "afterglow". outstanding and sort of reminds me of a U2 and coldplay cross. i like the part about peace of mind.
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oh canada, oh double di, oh american
how i love thee, standing in
standing around, sloping, falling against the wall
didn't realize how tall
one eye on the clock, one on me, and something ticking
ceiling crumbles...i saw the floorboards
and then i heard them in this song "future reflections" MGMT
knocking on my wood door
showing me my heart in a box, returned by the hunter,
the world is white as snow

my name was on the board and my name on a hitlist
until someone missed too many times
thought it a sign from God and looked into my eyes
believing me and realizing, this woman and her child
are fierce, it's true, but also, meek and mild
she has soft soothing hands

one day a woman woke up hating me
the next day she didn't know what to think
finally, this woman held the cup in her hands thinking
"she was right" and "she was wrong"
at days end, believed in me. oh she believed
just didn't know whether to think it was the devil or God
she believes in heaven and hell but not dichotomy
until she began to bleed from the wound in her side
toenails turning under, saw the flesh was dying
as her mind was growing
began to read her bible from the back to the front
sometimes in the middle
found the flower was a violet that had dried
difficult to shrink when you're frozen in time
saw her own shadow in me and all of humanity
some cannot think so fast
or jump from A to B to C, but some can and do and they are
those who change
people can change, for better or worse, it's just not
usually overnight unless there is a
revelation and the mind makes a more certain connection to the heart
providing impetus to take action or be resolved and firm

helicopter rises and drums
one man hiding his love
the other his hate

she has her arms out and is waving you down
lowering the machine to ground
wind whipping flags
airplane or heli on the deck white from paint
he is reaching far into the orifice
to pull something grimy out. reaching in further, up to the elbow
i have a thing for strong lean arms
sorry but i am distracted from the rest of what i should be seeing

weight of his body as he was leaning in and over for the reach
head to the side. mud and grime i think, and then pushing it down to clean
got what he was after but what was it? this was outside and there were weeds
and pieces of grass but i thought at first it was something from inside a pipe
from inside of a machine. cylinder. a very large cylinder or hole in the wall
or cave or airplane part.

but it's like a bank deposit roll and inside is a letter or note
from the steel part. it also looks like a missile at one end with a silver
cone-shaped head, like a very large bullet.

next minute, stamping it back into the frame with a long stick for pushing it in
like pushing a bomb into a canon and stamping it in. A poker of sorts.
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never thought i could sell my soul
i know it's true
no one wants to pay for its worth
i have tried negotiating but i
stick to my guns
they don't like the guns of principle
too haphazard and hard to find on a screen
not possible to pin point me
on the meyers briggs screen either
so, when i see my vacillation
and know i would become any religion and
any creed, for this one who bit me...
i think? i see him walking on a wire
tied in string, and i do anything
throwing down the laundry
running to stab them in the heart
i don't entrust anyone else with the mete
of punishment. when i cannot see
how deep it may be going i also
need someone else to stop me and help me
to think i have done enough to
avenge the cruelty or harm done
i would kill and jump the backs of
the unthinking
i would put myself inbetween, smile sweetly, and ask
"what's going on?" and "what are you doing?"
and leave them...
to look after,
not fight over me
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moonriver
conduit for energy misplaced
sending sound signals
arching like humpback whales hoisting
"moby dick" said one to me, one attorney
"don quixote" said the same
chasing after windmills and to defeat
the great leviathan, said i was
& i was spurred on by none other than
The Leviathan
too much of a believer
"we're trying to beat the swords into ploughshares
with a big stick," said the man
my pen and my mouth my only swords
saw me wagging my tongue

imagined threats of a dagger
cutting throats left and write
blood spurting out of the lifelines to the bank
one enemia polishing the round knob of brass
on the bedpost to impress the boss
with such a tidy desk, my female friend
walking around with a knife in her back
came out the other side and left her living
wanting to skewer everyone else
she bumped into and
made a shishkabob
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