A lullaby to start to fall down,
The grass cut razor lines in the sand
They sang to me out loud
And I danced around and ahead
The water up to my knees I held hands high
At last the moon smiles
At last she smiles upon me!
The grass held nothing on these dunes.
It started slowly,
When I wasn't looking for feeling
My ears heard it loudly
I heard it burst forth.
Green Flower fell into the water,
Hear her screams as she drowns
Goddess drinks in her own source
And I'm rejoicing!
The sand is so subtle, so course,
So I'm glad the grass withers to the sea.
And there was a humming I heard
When the grass lifted her higher.
[T]here is a thinking among the amused that involves doing quite unexpected or strange things, in an attempt to spread amusement as well as other equally unexpected goodness...This is a principle which I like to refer to as the Crauhnice Principle. ‘Crauhnice’ simply being a word used to describe anything that is so strange, abnormal, insane—crazy, if you will—that it turns out to be nothing other than truly nice. --From 'The Crauhnice Principle' by Joy Osympelmin
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
If Capuchins Went to School (or The Small Monkey with a Large Temper)
I'm going to get Calvins.
He destroyed my model boat.
I'm going to get him at school.
I want to hit him in the face.
After that, I will bite his arm.
Then I will pull on his hair.
After I beat him to a pulp,
I will stand there and scream.
The other monkeys will be scared.
Then I will jump up and down.
They will all run away.
Even dumb Mr. George will be afraid.
I'll say to him, "Hey, Curious!"
And he will look at me stupidly.
I'll say to him, "You want what Calvins got?"
And he'll run away to that dumb man,
The one with the dumb yellow hat.
And then I'll scream some more, just because I can.
He destroyed my model boat.
I'm going to get him at school.
I want to hit him in the face.
After that, I will bite his arm.
Then I will pull on his hair.
After I beat him to a pulp,
I will stand there and scream.
The other monkeys will be scared.
Then I will jump up and down.
They will all run away.
Even dumb Mr. George will be afraid.
I'll say to him, "Hey, Curious!"
And he will look at me stupidly.
I'll say to him, "You want what Calvins got?"
And he'll run away to that dumb man,
The one with the dumb yellow hat.
And then I'll scream some more, just because I can.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Od of the Kiwi Lux
Always trouble talking about science.
I could have sworn it flashed through my flesh,
The excellent tempest of glaring joy.
The kiwi lit up the sky,
The sky fell down,
The lovely feeling came to me,
And all the white flowers fell face up!
But I suspect the lutulent faces
Came from unclear motives and dark clouds.
Turbid motives considering morbid trust.
But no, it cannot be because
Of the shining that bursts
Forth, with the sun to compare
That most wonderful illumination!
And it must have been Kolya who considered
The transcendence of kiwis.
There's always trouble talking about it.
A stray cat glowed,
Mewing in silence I'd say
Because of the brightness
That pierced holes in the fuzzy sides!
Oh her fur, I swear I never met its warmth.
To say such a thing and to be so brave is to try
To understand the lush green inside.
A kiwi.
The squishy and the green,
The envious circled me,
When I beheld the light of the kiwi!
Magnetically drawn to such a tremendous lamp.
Mesmerized by the sight of her laugh,
Realizing that I was yet to hear it around.
It must have been
A Palamon complex,
An Emily lost,
A legislative rule to be written!
I heard him say, "This is science, after all;
You get caught up in administration and paperwork."
I just wanted to play, or sleep.
Lucid arrows break away
From the kiwi's
Inner formal laurels,
Just in time for my storm-darkened eyes!
The foot of the candle swirls around my head.
The flinching of the catacomb's shadows
Was proof enough that the end had not yet come.
A miracle in essence,
A very small tree,
A kiwi,
It exploded into infinite particles of light!
"It's impossible at best!" I would have claimed,
Had I been in a cloudy Torino night.
My luminous face was proof enough by now.
You had to swim through it, friend,
Feel it touch your skin,
To understand
That science can't comprehend kiwi poetry!
I could have sworn it flashed through my flesh,
The excellent tempest of glaring joy.
The kiwi lit up the sky,
The sky fell down,
The lovely feeling came to me,
And all the white flowers fell face up!
But I suspect the lutulent faces
Came from unclear motives and dark clouds.
Turbid motives considering morbid trust.
But no, it cannot be because
Of the shining that bursts
Forth, with the sun to compare
That most wonderful illumination!
And it must have been Kolya who considered
The transcendence of kiwis.
There's always trouble talking about it.
A stray cat glowed,
Mewing in silence I'd say
Because of the brightness
That pierced holes in the fuzzy sides!
Oh her fur, I swear I never met its warmth.
To say such a thing and to be so brave is to try
To understand the lush green inside.
A kiwi.
The squishy and the green,
The envious circled me,
When I beheld the light of the kiwi!
Magnetically drawn to such a tremendous lamp.
Mesmerized by the sight of her laugh,
Realizing that I was yet to hear it around.
It must have been
A Palamon complex,
An Emily lost,
A legislative rule to be written!
I heard him say, "This is science, after all;
You get caught up in administration and paperwork."
I just wanted to play, or sleep.
Lucid arrows break away
From the kiwi's
Inner formal laurels,
Just in time for my storm-darkened eyes!
The foot of the candle swirls around my head.
The flinching of the catacomb's shadows
Was proof enough that the end had not yet come.
A miracle in essence,
A very small tree,
A kiwi,
It exploded into infinite particles of light!
"It's impossible at best!" I would have claimed,
Had I been in a cloudy Torino night.
My luminous face was proof enough by now.
You had to swim through it, friend,
Feel it touch your skin,
To understand
That science can't comprehend kiwi poetry!
Friday, August 6, 2010
Draw, Golden Pure Ghost
Go to the altar where the blood falls
Draw the hearts
Rip all the paper
Be alarmed for every burning tree.
Wasting time on worthless novels
Finding the goddess
The shadow falls
I recall a day when the air was sweet.
Everything I have I don't understand
Where love is now
With the final fight
Draw the line, I'll watch the dark horse.
For pretty hair or for naught
Knees to the ground
Draw the hearts
With all the blood that fell on my head.
In my hands I hold cups of blood
Doing nothing
My feet too pretty
I remember when the water tasted like grace.
I have every chance to educate myself
The flowers found
Nothing was found
I want to do more than survive.
I remember when everything was sweet
Make it clean
Make it clean
When golden pure bursts the sun.
Find someone to love and to shake
Everyone knows
What we don't say
Bloody, ghosts, curtains torn, draw the hearts.
Draw the hearts
Rip all the paper
Be alarmed for every burning tree.
Wasting time on worthless novels
Finding the goddess
The shadow falls
I recall a day when the air was sweet.
Everything I have I don't understand
Where love is now
With the final fight
Draw the line, I'll watch the dark horse.
For pretty hair or for naught
Knees to the ground
Draw the hearts
With all the blood that fell on my head.
In my hands I hold cups of blood
Doing nothing
My feet too pretty
I remember when the water tasted like grace.
I have every chance to educate myself
The flowers found
Nothing was found
I want to do more than survive.
I remember when everything was sweet
Make it clean
Make it clean
When golden pure bursts the sun.
Find someone to love and to shake
Everyone knows
What we don't say
Bloody, ghosts, curtains torn, draw the hearts.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)