Northwest Rumination

Laurelhurst Hoof

Living in infamy, vagabond operatic
hiking up lost hills
through the floral walks of Laurelhurst,
I concede now to the pre-fab
pleasantry of the pond,
where ducks and black swan swim
and dip for food before me,
Looking for handouts of bread
from dirty hands of tempered man.
Soon it will rain,
and soon I'll be drenched with the dew
of a foreign cloud.
Lonely, lusting, poor
save for the wealth of spirit hiding
somewhere in my heart.
And now the ducks and swan come rushing
to the shore to take the bait from children's hands,
their biggest thrill today by far.
Their mother sees the penman scribble,
lurking, looming,
and ushers her offspring away with the knowing glance
of a wary jungle cat,
seething with frothy mouth, cunning and counting lives in nines.
So I just smoke and look away...
I can see now why Olmsted's visions of scenery
flanked and bookended the plots of park we now take so for granted.
With sweeping strokes, the willow droops for shade
and hides the island birds,
the douglas firs jut to kiss the sky
and glint like pyres 'gainst the pond's murky sheen,
But the moment has passed now and bullet-boys
march by as reminders that without them
we'd all be nothing but ash in this pensive, plaintive grove.
Long live the Empire of Greed.
Greed in the Grove of Green.
But tell me, decorated generality: What flower wouldn't droop to bow
and note you as you pass?
Which nightly, pining, wanderlust will finally be your last?

Streetside Provincial

Wet thumb to air for wind,
to tell me which way I should walk.
Drop lines in code to speak
but I forget how to talk.
The neons have all died out
and the sidewalk's scorched and gray.
Now all that's left to do
is tread 'til sunlight fades away.
In fits and starts we step and trip,
pretending not to fall.
In puddles we can splash the grime
to paint upon the wall.
Mud splat splinters, trickles
like a Pollock phantom genius;
psycho Braille explosions
feigning only now to rue us.

For when I am lonely,
I pace and whisper to myself
that nothing's needed;
only greed and drugs bring on the dawn.
But when I'm happy,
I've got starlight tracers shooting
from the rapture that I've pleaded;
like a ripple in the muddy river
where comfort comes from specters I've withdrawn.

Old Words; Or Why Fire Breathing Dragons Was the Pinnacle of My Lyrical Ouptut

"Heads Will Roll"

This is a test.
This is a trial.
This is a sign of things to come.
These are the words that I remember.
While you foil a life that I'd prepared to lose.

Of all the things I've heard!
Trading bees for fireflies?
Basking in new dawn, trial by ice and open hands.
For every single note sung with love and broken glass, there's a sneaky pitch.
But failing never felt so right.

Big hands are waving me over.
Big faces are hiding the shame of such regret.
We'll be uptight when we're older.
Today let's swim in the seas of violet.

And heads will roll, just as they're told.
Violet's misleading when you've never seen the sky.

I'm settling for less; wishing while I've got the bug.
Trading stock in fear and wading through a vat of blood.
But we'll find diamonds in secret corners of a maze; polish through our sins.
These wicked plans are never right.

The darkest night's most trusted flights hover over lightning then dip into descent.

Night falls on dolls when you flip a switch.
To bed we lay the martyrs.
Tonight we'll fight and toast to the void; we've nothing left to falter.
In time we find that our lot in life leaves nothing left to conquer.
Oh, all the fame! Through all of the flames your legend will endure!

"The Apple And The Whip"

The smaller I am, the more room I have for maneuvering the lanes.
When weaving in and out becomes a sleight of hand, I plan my dangerous escape.
So I lay down and shade my face from the light; hide my life from the sun.
I watch the birds take flight on any afternoon, and in their dying light, I'll burn their favorite field.

So, I'm getting out alive, but I'm going it alone.
I found the reasons why I left and now I'm never coming home. But with a subtle disregard, you'll never bother me.

Our size don't matter now, and as victims we're allowed these open-ended lies.
We'll use bed to mask the sound. "Oh, there's no need for your gown! It's too heavy with the sweat of the messes we'll forget."
It's too fake now. "You're too vain to be surprised. So 'tween pops and crack of stolen skin we cry."
"And those swells can be repaired, though they're nothing when compared to the crimson cuts of one too many blistering nights of woe."

I'm getting out alive, alone. By my God-given right to cast the first stone.

We're over our best days...fly by night
And all we are asking failed tonight.
Look over your shoulder...please don't lie.
Your past's but a whisper...so don't fight.
Fill out a request for full access.
Erupt into laughter, but don't jest.
Decide if the battle's worth the war.
We've got too much riding to be bored.

You're choking at the bit
The Apple And The Whip

"Underneath Each Level"

Underneath each level of the lie, you'll see me; enveloped; verified.
To us all, give shredded bits of light, years from now, if we choose to decide.

My senses are becoming dulled.
Just give me one more hand to fold.
I find something to look forward to before I run right back on you.
As drama mocks us all tonight, it's hard to tell who's wrong or right.
My God, you can't be so severe when your intentions seem so clear.

It's easier being deranged.
I'd settle for feeling the same.
With focus receding...retreat.
White flags are unwavering.
Defeat.

I've lost something I can't explain, and all my efforts, though in vain, are structured to relive a time when my actions justified your crimes:
1. False hopes designed to soothe the meak.
2. Double-back methods (oh, so sleak).
3. Frequenting squats in search of truth.
4. Denying both pudding and the proof.

All I've read leads to promise of a better day.
But time well-spent means nothing 'til you find the way.
"So, file through until there's wrong enough to follow you."
"I'm biding time in search of everlasting paradigm!"

Underneath each level of the lie...you'll see me.