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Saturday, April 30, 2011

#120 Holds A Little Mirror

Frozen like Atlas
Flexing for all time
Holding a mighty weight
Paying for every crime

Little bunnies play about his feet
Strangers pass
Friends meet
Still he stands

Unseen
Yet always blocking the view
A presence unfelt
Except by a few

He is love
He is hate
He is pleasure
He is pain

He is humanity
He haunts us for all time

She haunts us for all time
She is humanity

She is pain
She is pleasure
She is hate
She is love

Except by a few
A presence unfelt
Yet always blocking the view
Unseen

Still she stands
Friends meet
Strangers pass
Little bunnies play about her feet

Paying for every crime
Holding a mighty weight
Flexing for all time
Frozen like Atlas

Friday, April 29, 2011

#119 Is in Corrugated Cardboard Country


I laid down
In my normal non-corrugated world
On my soft big bed
Where I lay curled

But, in the morning

I open my eyes and I see
A corrugated cardboard tree
I look around, I look down
And I see a corrugated cardboard me!

The world has changed
Everything is brown and paper-y
I look around
And it’s the same as far as I can see

I’m confused
So I put on my cardboard clothes
And sat down to breakfast
Cardboard food just adding to my woes

I’m determined to figure all this out
So I hop on my cardboard bicycle
And I head out
Past all the signs saying to recycle

Seeing brown corrugated cardboard things
Zipping by me, as I pedal by
Everything is pretty normal
Except it’s all made of cardboard, I give a sigh

As I pedal along
I hear a crack of thunder
And I suddenly wonder
What will happen when I get wet?

The raindrops fall
With a pitter and a patter
Getting everything damp and spongy
Everything that might matter

Suddenly I don’t feel so good
I feel all wavy and sway-ey
My corrugations have gone flat
The bicycle and myself go down with a splat

I lay in the middle of the road
Soaking up water like a blotter
Falling apart
Knowing that I’m now just recycling fodder

Next time, I want to be a corrugated cardboard butterfly

Thursday, April 28, 2011

#118 Is The Quicksilver in Your Veins


Your faith precedes you
It intercedes for you
It sets the tone for you
It does your talking for you

Ain't no boulevard
Too busy
You wouldn’t cross it
Naked
On your knees

For another hit of my junk

It’s your church
And every day is the Sabbath
Your day of no work
You let the junk
Work for you

Desiccating your veins
Excising your brains
The holes in your memory
Suiting you just fine
As it takes the good
With the bad

And you’ll forget most of what you had

And have now lost
To the dirty track marks
Tracing their way
Deep into your heart

I even know you’ve tried to quit
But like a fatty confronted with a room of sweets
You always give in
And take it in

It’s everything to you
It takes the place of possessions
Your love
Your life

You inject yourself
And it’s like quicksilver
To your soul
You are nowhere
And everywhere
All at once

Nobody else understands
But I do

Here

Here’s a little something
To tide you over
Until the next check comes
You can owe me
I know you’re good for it

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

#117 Burns Inside


The fire in my thoughts
Has finally escaped my  head
The heat on my face makes me smile
My skin reflecting yellow and red

The flames crawl across everything
Fueling my desire to see more
I wait breathlessly
Shivering to my core

Charring the wood
Curling the paper
There’s no one to interrupt my worship
It’s the perfect caper

The heat pops something in the flames
I throw my head back and howl
My primal spirit taking over
I rip off my shirt, I yell, I growl

Burn it down
It feels so good
Not even sex was so awesome
As watching the flames eat at this house of wood

Of the old weathered boards
There is no more
Nothing stands
Just glowing embers on the moor

I click the warm metal lighter in my pocket
And I know that this wasn’t enough
I’ll have to let the fire out again
To consume and change stuff

I turn and walk towards home
Holding my fire maker tightly
A smile playing on my flushed face
My feet skipping lightly

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

#116 Is Being Invaded

The polka dots are marching
Marching on my bed
Marching on my pillow
Marching around my head

I lay amid a myriad
Collection of dots
They make my eyes cross
My skin breaks out in spots

When I try to get away from them
They chase me to and fro
Following me upstairs and downstairs
Dotting me, frotting me, wherever I do go

I know just how this will end
I'll be one big polka dot
Lost amidst the others
Lost and identical to all the lot

There's polka dots on the dog
Covering his fur from nose to tail
I throw him in the bath
And scrub him till he wails

Nothing works, and nothing will
The dots march ever on
Covering and consuming
Obscuring like a locust swarm spawn

So many polka dots
I've lost all sense of self
They are so dense now
I'm beyond all help

They've conformed to all the colors
That used to be there before
And there are so many of them
They cover every little pore

Now only a microscope could see them
So densely they are packed
But I know they are there
I was there the day they stacked

I don't know what their purpose is
I've asked, and they have no words
So I've come upon a solution, and a mindset:
"I, for one, welcome our polka dot overlords!"

Monday, April 25, 2011

#115 Prepares For His Coming


Yesterday was Easter
He has risen!
Now he roams the land
And things are getting out of hand

Here's a shovel and a shotgun
Remember, only a head shot will bring him down
If it helps
Just aim for his thorny crown

If you see him
You should run
He's a fast mover
And god's only son

He's assembled his apostles
Bitten them one by one
Now they ramble the countryside
Eating brains for fun

I've barricaded the door
That should slow them down
I have everything we need
Don't even think of going into town

You can help my with my transport
We can use it to go north
I hear there's a stronghold
When the coast is clear we can go forth

Shh!!  What's that?
Don't make a sound, move no more
Shit, get the weapons
It's Zombie Jesus, he's at the door!

Sunday, April 24, 2011

#114 Is a Werebunny


In the beginning
There were 100
100 Easter bunnies
And that was enough

But, as there were more people
More bunnies were needed
So the bunnies
Learned to bite

Making werebunnies
Which only turn into bunnies
On only one night:
Easter Eve

Seemingly normal people
Get ready for bed
Lay down
And sleep

But once asleep
They change
They become bunnies
Little fluffy bunnies

The little werebunnies instinctively report
To their local
Easter Bunny depot
To equip for the night ahead

Carts, baskets, jelly beans, chocolate
Everything a little bunny could need
And maps, with lists
To navigate their routes

One by one
Their bags and carts full
The fluffy werebunnies
Go out into the night

Visiting all who believe
In Easter, and Bunnies
A basket of goodies
Is what they’ll receive

Gently, softly
The bunnies deliver their packages
And follow their maps
Back to the Bunny Depot
For a quick nose kiss

And then back to bed
To become human once again
And wake on Easter Morning
No memory of it in their head

Although some
With their noses
Still strangely
Twitching


Saturday, April 23, 2011

#113 Finds A Pre Easter Message


My Dearest Judith,

It is Saturday
I’m sitting on Jesus’ tomb
Waiting, and doing some thinking
About tomorrow, when he will rise, I assume

I’ve come a long ways
And a long time
In that time machine
You always said would never work

I was there in Bethsaida
It was really quite a thrill
Especially when he fed all those people
Sitting hungry on that hill

I’m still not sure if it was a miracle
Or if he was ahead of his time
Socially engineering the people into sharing
Making to not, a guilty crime

I was in the boat
On the Sea of Galilee
On the day he walked on water
And calmed the storm

Personally, I think he got lucky with that weather
And where he walked
I can’t be sure
But it looked awfully shallow

I followed him as he did many things
The crippled stood upright
He healed the sick
The blind saw light

I’m no expert
Their symptoms could have been psychosomatic
Their miracle
Lots of talking and being dramatic

A placebo effect affair

Now this resurrection thing
It would really make this all worth the gamble
It’s really what I came back for
Following and talking to him just a preamble

I was watching as he drug that cross through town
Hung in the sun
And died

I’m sure he was dead
His eyes went dull
Got limp as a dishrag
I even touched his head

Now here he lies
In this tomb, upon which I sit
He’s supposed to rise on the third day
And I don’t want to miss it

Okay, so he died on a Friday
Should I count Friday as the first day?
Or should I go by 72 hours from then?
That must be what they meant to say

I’ve got plenty of time, in that case
I’m going into town
Buy some knick-knacks
Check out the place

I’ll come back bright and early Monday morning
I’ll record it in high def
It will be grand
I’ll be more famous than Hef

Unless he doesn’t rise
Totally un-resurrected
I’d say he was always a sham
Just as I always suspected.

Am leaving this with the other manuscripts,
In the cave by the sea
In case something should happen to me.
All my love to you Judith

Kisses,
Thomas


Friday, April 22, 2011

#112 Blames The Victim

This is all your fault
You were simply too pretty
You’ve read the rules
Now accept the consequences

You struggle and weep
As I hold you down
It’s such a shame
You could have prevented this

Those tight pants
They showed off your ass
How can you expect to be left alone?
You should accept my attention

That little blouse
That makes you feel so good about yourself
Is just asking for trouble
Do I have to spell this out?

I can’t be bothered with any restraint
It’s your job to reign me in
If you don’t and something happens
It’s to your own chagrin

That time it was raining and so cold
You accepted a ride from a nice guy
Of course he wanted to fuck
That you didn’t, was just your bad luck

Do this
Stand here
Accept things
It’s just the way it is

You think the victim is you?
Don’t make me laugh
The real victim
Is the guy
Who just couldn’t resist you

Ever hear of blue balls?
My god woman
I just can’t cope with that
It’s your job to relieve it
Now open your goddamned legs
And receive it

You know you wanted it
I’ve seen how you look at me
This is all your fault

Now ride it out

I’ll be done in a minute.

Thursday, April 21, 2011

#111 Begs You To Be Gentle


My heart
Opens up to you
It's terrifying
And I don't know what to do

All my walls
So carefully built
Are circumvented
My defenses wilt

Will your steps be soft?
Padded in soft silk?
Or hard and demanding
As jackboots and their ilk?

I don't mean to whine
But the last tenant
She stomped on my spine
Ripped out my heart
Declaring, "This is mine!"

She didn't even do it out of spite
She made eyes and said, "I love you"
Even as she took a bite
Of my still beating heart in her hand

Getting away from her
Was anything but easy
It involved stripping down
Finding an escape hole and getting greasy

I found a new life
Sterile and cold
Furnished from IKEA
But, it got old

Then I saw you
My breast it stirred
Heart skipping a beat
Fluttering like a bird

Now here I am
Full of emotion
Ready to cry
I love you

Do you love me too?

Won't you give me a try?

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

#110 Falls But Doesn't Stay Down

The little pink birds
Whirling and diving
Around my head
Should have been some indication
Of the times I had ahead

But I'm not quick
On the uptake
I seldom cook by the book
And often end up with a mistake

Maybe being run over by a car
Before I even got going
Was the best accident by far
Keeping me from even bigger things

And that's just the thing
Keeping me from things
I've never been one for that
Be it planned events
Or one night flings

With that determination
Foremost in my mind
I rolled over and climbed to my feet
Giving the panicked driver nevermind

I grab the bike's handlebar
And right it with a yank
Give it a quick look over
And kick it to life with a spank

I spare all the onlookers
One grimaced glance
Before I twist the throttle
Dump the clutch
And rejoin the dance

I've got no answers
But that will soon change
I'll cover lots of ground
And see many things

What once was lost
Will be found

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

#109 Makes a Run For It


There is no breath
That I can get
As I run
As fast as my feet can carry me
Away from the pain
Away from the danger
In a blind panic
I run for my life

My clothes are forgotten
In my bid for my life
I run naked and vulnerable
My feet battered and bruised

Why?
I don’t know
I don’t know how all this came about

One minute I’m happy and safe
The next I’m cast out

Stripped of my clothes
In the center of town
For all to see

Beaten with sticks and stones
I was sentenced to death
So at the first chance
I did flee

Now I can never go back
Tears run down my face
I tumble across a stream

Where to go, what to do
I can’t even think straight
My mind verging on madness
Every noise I hear
A threat, something to fear

Suddenly the dense trees disappear
Then so does the ground
I’m flying out into space
Nothing makes a sound

The last thing I see
Is a small flower
And I focus on it

The last thing I feel
Is being alone
And the chill of it

Monday, April 18, 2011

#108 Suspects Jessica Alba is Under the Bed


Lullaby
Go to sleep
My precious
There's no monster
Under your bed
To roar and keep you awake

It's just Jessica Alba
Lurking there
Amongst the dust bunnies
And dirty underwear
So sleep tight
Knowing she'll be under there
All the night

Sometimes

She might grab your ankles
Or tickle your calf
With her nails
As you get in
Or out
Of bed

But that's about it
I swear
From the Jessica Alba
Under your bed

Oh wait
I forgot
Every know and then
She might scream
Ok, maybe a lot
But shhhh, you'll get used to it
It's kind of sweet
When you think on it

How so?
Heck I don't know

All I know
Is that the Jessica Alba
That lives under your bed
MUST be fed
At least once
Every fortnight
Or she'll emerge
To feed

And that's when you might need
This stake
Keep it under your pillow
'Cause, you never know

And if that time should ever come
Just use it
To keep her at bay
Ring a bell
Or give a yell
And I'll come running
With some fresh meat

It's what she likes

Then, when all is well
She'll slip back down
And take her place

As the Jessica Alba
Under your bed

Sunday, April 17, 2011

#107 Is Another BP Spill

I’m creeping
Slowly thickening
And creeping
Into the cracks
Into the ridges
I’ll slowly cover everything I can

You’re weeping
You were painting your door
Then you spilled me
And you see me seeping
Into the ground
Onto the pavement
And making a permanent mark

There’s nothing keeping
Me held back
You were too slow
And now I can grow
This puddle of paint
Named me
Has a life of it’s own

But now you’re peeping
All around the garage
And you’ve found
Some paint thinner
And I’m worried
I might get thinned out
Washed out
Scrubbed from existence

Life is fleeting
One day in a can
Then on a brush
Once on the floor
Now all sopped up
Where to now?
Who knows
We’ll see what tomorrow brings