Wednesday, November 20, 2013

Bottoms Full of Atoms

Down & Out:

Barren blues
Empty melody
The jazz has left the building

No Appetite:

Gaunt of flesh
Starved of spirit
This hungry soul has no appetite
As buffets become repulsive
And all else impulsive


Nobody can hear you knockin’
It’s a deaf world
With mute inhabitants
Empty doors
Void windows
Walls of sac
And eggshell foundations
Come to crack
And naught

Unintended Murder:

I became a murderer
Killing three bed bugs


Constant confrontations
Negotiated truce
Temporary lull
And borrowed peace
In momentary ceasefires
Within infinite battles
And without warring wars


I've scaled my senses
In balanced tensions
Weighed in my imbalances
In taut snaps
Like a finely tuned guitar
The keys are justly strung
Now go get a good pick 
Let us try the strum
Wring a rhythm and hum


Letting go
Of this idea
Of letting go
Without getaways
Or gateways
Is a doomed failure
And a no-go area
Let's give up
Or give in
Whatever suits ya
I'm tired and done with this idea
It was my doing
I concocted the whole thing
Guilty as charged
I plead no pleas
Sentence me as ye please
I surrender
This and any other idea I might be privy to
Whether imagined or real
I'm caving in
To everything

Toss a Coin:

Detached attachments
And attached detachments
Are working each other out
In constant cancellations
And daily expiries
As I long for wild strawberries
Homemade motorcycles
Highland roads
Starting on Thimphu's notorious expressway
With bikers for buddies
And buddies for bikers
The wind in yer face
And hand-waves to passing hikers
Amongst other involuntary lapses


Napping in-between
Maddening city streets
And tranquil hills
Neither here
Nor there
Spent everywhere

Making a Melody:

If the music sucks
and the band plays on
one can always walk out
puff a fag
swig a sip or sip a swig
watch the moon
and the silent music of the stars
or make small talk
Reed's satellite of love always works for a chorus

Or take a walk on the quiet side
until a better tune beckons
from abandoned bands
or lonesome solos

Miss Communication:

If language is a bridge
let us cross over
and dabble in strange lingos
even if it is all Greek
we could nod
bob heads
make faces
talk deaf
swinging wild gestures
go yogic
if that still keeps the gulf open
just wave
and try to smile
at the whole idiotic thing
minding yer timing

Heady Gold:

To own nothing
Yet perceptibly accept everything
That’s something


A gypsy at heart
the tramp survives another day
playing a troubadour today
as he did a minstrel yesterday
as he might a hobo tomorrow
drifting in
and drifting out
of the travelling bandwagon

It Ends:

She was sweet
crying tears of salt
and brave
whetting the sands of time in the middle of the desert
as we talked about misty mountains

and cruel intentions


Midnight rambles
with familiar foes
from daylight rumbles

Little Flutter:

A humming bird brought me a message
the little scroll read "yer blood type is nomadic"
I mulled it over with Jack Kerouac
as I studied a torn ancient map
and signs of an agrarian life
in folks such as Marco Polo 
and Garfield the Cat

No Mercy:

Misery my muse
Why don't ya take a hike?
And lemme be happy for a night?


I sleep for days and days
And stay awake for nights and nights
In intoxicated sobriety

Any Reality:

As some have pleasant dreams
Others are fighting nightmarish screams
All in one slumberous night

Naked Growth:

From visible public foliage

to hidden curly pubic follicles
and shaved labors of cavities
mammalian hang ups are pretty hairy

Ps: YourLustForLifeStartsRightNow!

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