Dead Cat Epitaph
gloomy
rainy
Friday
morning
On my way to school
I see
Flat
cat
road
kill
fur
flesh
blood
splattered
head
skull
crushed
I feel
like
that dead cat
8.01.2002
Prompted By 4 Haloes
Fuzzy luminescences halo the full pewter moon above me
I wander through my own small forest (The Backyard)
Where the hounds never rouse
And the birds always watch
The pig on its back wanting more.
Consumed by night madness
The first halo upon me
Casted tiring tirelessness
The second halo also
I search for a sign of ants
The third and fourth haloes
Have taken effect a bit too soon.
Fuzzy luminescences halo the full pewter moon above me
I wander through my own small forest (The Backyard)
Where the hounds never rouse
And the birds always watch
The pig on its back wanting more.
Consumed by night madness
The first halo upon me
Casted tiring tirelessness
The second halo also
I search for a sign of ants
The third and fourth haloes
Have taken effect a bit too soon.
7.24.2002
7.03.2002
On All Fronts
On all fronts
People are waiting for salvation
For the fire sent upon them (and by them) to seek retribution
To cease.
The blaze claiming souls unwilling but vulnerable
To this kind of disease-
Mediocrity
Approaching, wanting also to claim me
So I plead
Let not this darkness swallow me,
Let not this dullness overtake me.
On all fronts
People are waiting for salvation
For the fire sent upon them (and by them) to seek retribution
To cease.
The blaze claiming souls unwilling but vulnerable
To this kind of disease-
Mediocrity
Approaching, wanting also to claim me
So I plead
Let not this darkness swallow me,
Let not this dullness overtake me.
6.27.2002
French Music, Abstractions And Coffee
French music, Edith Piaf, permeating the mood of my bedroom
I sit in front of my big black cup of black coffee watching
The painterly grey foam produced from my stirring
Swirling at the surface, moving towards the sides,
The mottled blackness slowly dissipating.
The storm over the water finally gone
Now only a calm level of caffeine
Stares back at me.
French music, Edith Piaf, permeating the mood of my bedroom
I sit in front of my big black cup of black coffee watching
The painterly grey foam produced from my stirring
Swirling at the surface, moving towards the sides,
The mottled blackness slowly dissipating.
The storm over the water finally gone
Now only a calm level of caffeine
Stares back at me.
6.17.2002
5.15.2002
Phosphorescent Dreams
She rose from her sodden dreams brilliant as the moonlight,
Phosphorescence emanating encompassing the room
Subtle and fragile as the light of enlightment would
Appear to me at night.
Tonight her beauty appears before my fire
Consumes my will, my mind and lets them go with ease
And lets me go of all uncertainties
Thought of the day before
She came to me.
She rose from her sodden dreams brilliant as the moonlight,
Phosphorescence emanating encompassing the room
Subtle and fragile as the light of enlightment would
Appear to me at night.
Tonight her beauty appears before my fire
Consumes my will, my mind and lets them go with ease
And lets me go of all uncertainties
Thought of the day before
She came to me.
4.25.2002
Haikus (Not Haikus)
1
I sat at the beach
To watch the sun setting down
But rain came and poured.
2
The world is a stage
On which we play our roles
So perfectly realistic.
3
Trapped inside this room
I'm reduced to wall-paper
Wanting to peel off.
4
Hear butterflies' wings
Flap against each other
And sail through the wind.
5
See the waves crashing
Against the hot sandy shore
And coolness rise.
6
The falling leaves drift
Past me red and gold and
Brown crisp like my soul.
7
Blueness rising up
Makes me creatively free
To explore this life.
8
Warmness seeping through
My skin into the depths of my
My body cooking.
9
Lounging in this couch
In this paradoxical
Library, I write.
10
Warm wind whispers we
Must make moments in the now
Lest we 'll live backwards.
1
I sat at the beach
To watch the sun setting down
But rain came and poured.
2
The world is a stage
On which we play our roles
So perfectly realistic.
3
Trapped inside this room
I'm reduced to wall-paper
Wanting to peel off.
4
Hear butterflies' wings
Flap against each other
And sail through the wind.
5
See the waves crashing
Against the hot sandy shore
And coolness rise.
6
The falling leaves drift
Past me red and gold and
Brown crisp like my soul.
7
Blueness rising up
Makes me creatively free
To explore this life.
8
Warmness seeping through
My skin into the depths of my
My body cooking.
9
Lounging in this couch
In this paradoxical
Library, I write.
10
Warm wind whispers we
Must make moments in the now
Lest we 'll live backwards.
4.23.2002
Shut Eyes
The mind's eye sees what you physically fail to see.
The wanting vision, envious of the mind tricks you into thinking it isn't real.
Around you you feel spirits move
Seeking retribution, redeclaration of worth.
They appear a creation of unreality-
Reality bent to suit the resentment of the eyes.
To unbent, recognize the power of the mind.
The mind's eye sees what you physically fail to see.
The wanting vision, envious of the mind tricks you into thinking it isn't real.
Around you you feel spirits move
Seeking retribution, redeclaration of worth.
They appear a creation of unreality-
Reality bent to suit the resentment of the eyes.
To unbent, recognize the power of the mind.
For Homer
Upon finishing The Human Comedy by William Saroyan
You were the first to learn that your brother had been another casualty of the war.
You were supposed to deliver the telegram to your own family.
You did not know what to do, your father died only a couple of years back
And now your brother!
You were angry and you had the right to.
You thought of your mother, your sister, your brother's fiancee,
Your little brother Ulysses, who is only four years old.
How could you have brought them this notice of death?
But they already knew.
They have felt it in their bones, another one of them gone.
They've obediently accepted it, embraced it
Like it was God Himself.
They've recognized this relinquishment as a part of His greater plans.
And who are they to protest?
You on the other hand made it no sense.
Only fourteen and yet you've experienced more loss than most adults.
You asked, Why should I learn of war, pain, death?
Why should these happen to me, to my family, to Ithaca?
I ask you now, Why should it not?
Upon finishing The Human Comedy by William Saroyan
You were the first to learn that your brother had been another casualty of the war.
You were supposed to deliver the telegram to your own family.
You did not know what to do, your father died only a couple of years back
And now your brother!
You were angry and you had the right to.
You thought of your mother, your sister, your brother's fiancee,
Your little brother Ulysses, who is only four years old.
How could you have brought them this notice of death?
But they already knew.
They have felt it in their bones, another one of them gone.
They've obediently accepted it, embraced it
Like it was God Himself.
They've recognized this relinquishment as a part of His greater plans.
And who are they to protest?
You on the other hand made it no sense.
Only fourteen and yet you've experienced more loss than most adults.
You asked, Why should I learn of war, pain, death?
Why should these happen to me, to my family, to Ithaca?
I ask you now, Why should it not?
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