Take a step back and watch the world unfold in front of your eyes.
You may just be surprised, at what you see.
Be part of something you can't explain.
As common as the rain.
Don't be afraid.
To feel pain.
FNK 12'
Sunday, December 23, 2012
Friday, December 14, 2012
Yet I Remain
Yet I Remain
I live in a world of
captive fantasy,
Hearing sounds of
laughter from the past.
Quickly I am aware of
the pain.
I cannot breath, yet
I remain.
White light of true
love blinds me,
I can see no further
then what has been.
And with this empty
passion raging in my brain,
I cannot breath, yet
I remain.
In pursuing the lies
of a shredded heart,
Fall sorrow and anger
as the rain.
And as I ride the
tail of this fallen star,
I cannot breath, yet
I remain.
Long exhausting
anticipation
Of a love that will
never be,
Has lead me back to
that place again.
And as I shut my eyes
and try to sleep,
I cannot breath, yet
I remain.
FNK 12'
Saturday, December 8, 2012
What Comes Naturally
I find that when depressed and drunken,
I am a better writer.
And when happy and in love,
A better musician.
FNK 12'
I am a better writer.
And when happy and in love,
A better musician.
FNK 12'
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
The All Night Artichoke Stand
I lifted my head at the bus depot to talk to the wind,
but it did not answer.
So I waited and waited, but no answer.
Stepped cautiously in, found my favorite seat.
The guy with the hat was there again.
The driver recognized me but made no attempt to acknowledge.
The passengers stir in their own private spaces.
No one speaks, only the lonely.
And they never stop.
The floor is usually littered with trash, the whole trip mundane.
Disconnection resets itself on my shoulders.
Memories turn their head from the seat in front of me.
A few seats up the future mocks me.
And from the back the past haunts me.
How did I get here and why am I staying.
I am on auto pilot, the routine is fun.
But not serious.
My thoughts remind me of nothing.
I started smoking again, just like before.
It's the routine, it's soothing and familiar.
It's all wrong.
Nothing has changed but the weather and the weather remains.
I pretend that I am not one of them.
In fact I am the most steady player of this awful game.
This is the unfortunate tale of a tortured soul.
It is very old, indeed it is very old.
I have seen this before but cannot remember when.
The bus responds to my call to stop and I clamber off.
Hey you with your daily routine and your monotone life.
You with your BMW and your full lipped wife.
And you with the big knife.
Put it aside and take a good long look.
We all share the same space.
The chemist can live with the poet.
The anarchist can live with the pet shop owner.
The model can live with the lottery agent,
and the mother can live with the child.
One day we were all gone.
Does it bring us back to the very beginning, before everything.
Or does it bring us to the end, of everything.
Who is to know.
No one needs to fear you, with the cash.
There is nothing you can do.
We are all racist, even amongst our own.
There are no answers,
And nobody is right.
No one writer, no poet, no singer or songwriter,
And no musician.
No painter or pauper, no scholar or sculptor.
No inventor or magician, and no dancer.
No thinker or doer.
No hack or moviegoer.
No teacher or sinner, or pistolier's daughter.
FNK 1999
but it did not answer.
So I waited and waited, but no answer.
Stepped cautiously in, found my favorite seat.
The guy with the hat was there again.
The driver recognized me but made no attempt to acknowledge.
The passengers stir in their own private spaces.
No one speaks, only the lonely.
And they never stop.
The floor is usually littered with trash, the whole trip mundane.
Disconnection resets itself on my shoulders.
Memories turn their head from the seat in front of me.
A few seats up the future mocks me.
And from the back the past haunts me.
How did I get here and why am I staying.
I am on auto pilot, the routine is fun.
But not serious.
My thoughts remind me of nothing.
I started smoking again, just like before.
It's the routine, it's soothing and familiar.
It's all wrong.
Nothing has changed but the weather and the weather remains.
I pretend that I am not one of them.
In fact I am the most steady player of this awful game.
This is the unfortunate tale of a tortured soul.
It is very old, indeed it is very old.
I have seen this before but cannot remember when.
The bus responds to my call to stop and I clamber off.
Hey you with your daily routine and your monotone life.
You with your BMW and your full lipped wife.
And you with the big knife.
Put it aside and take a good long look.
We all share the same space.
The chemist can live with the poet.
The anarchist can live with the pet shop owner.
The model can live with the lottery agent,
and the mother can live with the child.
One day we were all gone.
Does it bring us back to the very beginning, before everything.
Or does it bring us to the end, of everything.
Who is to know.
No one needs to fear you, with the cash.
There is nothing you can do.
We are all racist, even amongst our own.
There are no answers,
And nobody is right.
No one writer, no poet, no singer or songwriter,
And no musician.
No painter or pauper, no scholar or sculptor.
No inventor or magician, and no dancer.
No thinker or doer.
No hack or moviegoer.
No teacher or sinner, or pistolier's daughter.
FNK 1999
Sunday, December 2, 2012
excerpt from Georgia Pumpkins
A fight over Roweena is about to break.
Lizards scatter, tables turn, people gather.
"Five to one on John Blake."
"Six to four on Stan that he knocks him down. Either way the victor gets the crown."
and the loser will eat the largest steak.
Ladies shout stop, don't, they laugh and turn away.
Kids push in to see the action.
Dogs bark.
Old people remain sitting down.
There's another one down by the lake.
"It's all too much fun," says John Blake.
"I have already won."
Burgers, corn, squash, checkers, flies, melon, music.
A short distance away a bird watches from its nest.
Long shadows creep in from the west.
FNK 1999
Lizards scatter, tables turn, people gather.
"Five to one on John Blake."
"Six to four on Stan that he knocks him down. Either way the victor gets the crown."
and the loser will eat the largest steak.
Ladies shout stop, don't, they laugh and turn away.
Kids push in to see the action.
Dogs bark.
Old people remain sitting down.
There's another one down by the lake.
"It's all too much fun," says John Blake.
"I have already won."
Burgers, corn, squash, checkers, flies, melon, music.
A short distance away a bird watches from its nest.
Long shadows creep in from the west.
FNK 1999
Saturday, December 1, 2012
HER
Meet.
Much to say, nothing said. I want Her. She doesn't know me. The urgency. Reality. Availability. My brain swells and I'm dizzy. Look at her face, look at the sun. Danger. The stop sign. Red. It hurts. I want Her to know me. Then she smiles. My heart jumps to the other side of my chest. I catch it and throw it back. Still beating. Two different worlds. We're the same. She leaves.
I see Her again. Her. No longer have control. Must go there. Somewhere. Leaping from the bridge I grab the legs of the bird in flight. So much lighter. No explanation, and still no words. She's a Picasso. She's famous art. I want to stare at Her for hours and listen to her voice for days on end, then a couple more. Unfair. Look at Her. Just look. It will blind me to continue.
Skip steps. Cut the line. Cheat on the test. Learn from mistakes. I deserve Her. She deserves me. Great strength. I need to smell her hair. Walk beside Her. See the world. Live. Love. She is my drug.
Natural. She fits. Slow dance on the pier. Fine wine. Laughter. Let's go there. Moving water changes the earth. There's greatness here. Look ma, no hands.
She makes me nervous but I feel calm. Can't explain. I leave. Come back and stay. I can live for centuries with Her. Climb mountains. Achieve. I make mistakes. She doesn't know. She does. She says no. I survive.
Look at Her.
Don't touch.
Just look.
At Her.
FNK 1999
Much to say, nothing said. I want Her. She doesn't know me. The urgency. Reality. Availability. My brain swells and I'm dizzy. Look at her face, look at the sun. Danger. The stop sign. Red. It hurts. I want Her to know me. Then she smiles. My heart jumps to the other side of my chest. I catch it and throw it back. Still beating. Two different worlds. We're the same. She leaves.
I see Her again. Her. No longer have control. Must go there. Somewhere. Leaping from the bridge I grab the legs of the bird in flight. So much lighter. No explanation, and still no words. She's a Picasso. She's famous art. I want to stare at Her for hours and listen to her voice for days on end, then a couple more. Unfair. Look at Her. Just look. It will blind me to continue.
Skip steps. Cut the line. Cheat on the test. Learn from mistakes. I deserve Her. She deserves me. Great strength. I need to smell her hair. Walk beside Her. See the world. Live. Love. She is my drug.
Natural. She fits. Slow dance on the pier. Fine wine. Laughter. Let's go there. Moving water changes the earth. There's greatness here. Look ma, no hands.
She makes me nervous but I feel calm. Can't explain. I leave. Come back and stay. I can live for centuries with Her. Climb mountains. Achieve. I make mistakes. She doesn't know. She does. She says no. I survive.
Look at Her.
Don't touch.
Just look.
At Her.
FNK 1999
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