Posts in: Poems

Declat

The guys around screaming football goals — their joy to keep the schedule In slow motion — in my mind screen — while I try to mend the heart That didn’t want to wake up today Every time I feel like my sadness is overflowing I try to approach it as a concept, because that’s the Only way I could handle it On my own I write it, I’m not a good painter, not a good singer

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Railroad

There are two trains: one goes on The other goes Down To keep up with a life I try to only look straight ahead into the line Not rising above, not wavering to the sides Trying to maintain the stability by sustaining The architecture Of the rail Or the other way around — a life to be The outside lures me It entices my humanity to undo the road To park the ride To make a life next to a fruitful river Plant a garden Plant an apple tree, not to eat from it Just to observe How the ants will behave Plant a garden, watch it go good Goes evil The line is broken

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Around

I’m a landscape painting A Tuesday evening I’m muddy green in spring The dullest French film I never had someone who I Could Be Myself Around Because I’m tedious and pointless if you don’t get what I see And no one ever does It’s terrifying, exhilarating, beautiful and saturnine It begins with never taking the negative spaces for granted And the wind is home to the other things that we don’t talk about

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The Ceaseless Story

I don’t want to know the starring role’s perspective I want to know who and what lead them to that perspective I’m done of my own perspective in life I want to know the clerk’s perspective And what would happen if that clerk hadn’t been nice I want to know the therapist’s perspective And what would be of the protagonist if they had taken a different approach I want to know of the anonymous lover

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Metacriticism

My world is the dot of the i Perhaps yours is the apostrophe before the m, Which is also mine But the body of the I is the collective And if you capital the collective, half the self is lost I can’t see the other who laughs as loud as myself On both ends of the hall of mirrors The one who leaves was I before And the one who comes, will never know

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Twilight Zone - I

I don’t remember if I ever wrote about the mess going on within me Or the fact that I too need someone to be my raison d’être And sometimes good metaphors are not enough Or the art Or the flowers I find beautiful Or the metaphysical stuff going on About the negative spaces in the sky I wish I had gotten the title Preludes but I guess I’ll have to come up with something else

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The Dismay

The way the sun lands gently on top of some white flowers unknown to me From my car window becomes phosphorescent A holographic illumination no poet had to paint in gold leaf Or dream of I might be making a fuzz out of a simple view — isn’t poetry all about that, though? — I found a supermarket parking lot in the rush hour Just to write this Because it’s all that is left from an afternoon among the ones that know no poetry The ones that know nothing of flowers or the magnificence of the sun on top of them

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On The Finite Universe of States of Mind

I’ve been translating murkiness into words after A set back In my most important project right now: go on States of mind. They subserve the circumstances, And I wish I was more than just that More than a state of mind My dusky state of mind has sprinkle fall all over spring Enlightened by the higher effects past the fourth wall, J.P told me about the Finite State Machines And his belief that the whole Universe could be explained in such way

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The Impermanence Indelible

Forgetting about the things I wrote has become the rule at this point Even though it’s written and should be permanent, it’s not It goes past And life goes on I try to go on I’ve been thinking about impermanence And how all things come to an end I dream away the inspirational days And the wild daisies that flew away Just to make it special And, somehow, begging me to try and immortalise it

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On Priorities

This poem’s reasoning is all over the place Take it or leave it My creativity is abundant But I have to always act quickly when it comes to putting it into practice I didn’t need anyone’s opinion. I wouldn’t accept it But I did need someone to type my typewriter poems on the computer The poems I refused to use digital means to create And to scan my drawings which I used coloured pens for

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