Thursday, September 10, 2009

...workin'...

whoosh

stunned underneath and all over

yet

puzzles and matrix and logarithm chart out
in delicate lace ideas

we line up
and give harder than we can give ourselves

-arf 09

Friday, May 01, 2009

...no listeners (for Delores)...

You whistle up the dead
You draw a ring around the sun
You chalk up the races you’ve all lost but one
You take snap shots of moments
An feed them to the cure
You keep searchin’ and searchin’
And beggin’ god for

And there aint no listeners here
No given facts to your fears
It’s all odd numbers and lightningless thunder
There aint no listeners here

Tea cups lined with gold
In the form of the unknown
They’re lined up and waiting
For they’re fortunes to be told
And it may all end up in lies
But there’s no way of goin’
Save the truth from the forlorn
If you want to pay for the lights

And there aint no listeners here
Only you know the taste of your tears
Its all the first if you overcome the worst
There aint no listeners here

Waking the kids in the middle of the night
Gotta give in to cravings you can no longer fight
Mom we gotta get the change outta here
It’s almost two am oh dear
I’ll be up in three days
An be devilishly handsome despite all the haze
We’ll be part of the story
And fuck all the glory
Some son will sing will sing of our days

Because they’re aint no listeners here
Nobody to translate that year
Only thoughts and scars and smiles and memoirs
There aint no listeners here

You whistle up the dead
You draw a ring around the sun
You chalk up the races you’ve all lost but one
You take snap shots of moments
An feed them to the cure
You keep searchin’ and searchin’
And beggin’ god for

-arf 09

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

…life you can find…

gotta look for
all the life you can find
gotta search for
every second you can’t rewind

gotta look for
all the life you can find
gotta search for
sparing moments where you were kind

on your horizon
oughta be shades of blue
on your door step
oughta be a tattered you

come to heal
come to find your secrets sealed
forced to raise hell
forced to take my soul and sell

sink
your teeth
into me

sink
your teeth
into me

gotta look for
all the life you can find
gotta search for
anything to make you blind

gotta look for
all the life you can find
gotta search for
any hint of your demise

in your worst dreams
only darkness in you grin
first thing at sunrise
sweat pouring from you skin

come to heal
come to find your secrets sealed
forced to raise hell
forced to take my soul and sell

sink
your teeth
into me

sink
your teeth
into me

-arf 09

Saturday, January 31, 2009

...carnival sponge...

knee deep
and if the wading comes then crack is then

grip the wheel
a little too hard
and ward it off by wishing
for rain

upcoming exit
and appearing
on the right

where all that sat before
a closed store
a scar
of recent times

is a glowing
beautiful
spinning

Ferris Wheel

it is cold out
there is visible breath in my face with each breath and it fills the cabin

and yet

lights
and lights
and lights
on the right

in the parking lot

of the closed brand name store

life
and (hopefully) young love
are open
for business

and the rest of the ride home
feel the drain

-arf 09

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

Letter from the Editor

Here are two poems I wrote some time ago now that have been on this “blog” thing since they were written, but to anyone who ever stops by here, I would like to present them again. I do not take enjoyment out of providing an “explanation” to any piece I have written, and never have. However, I feel I should say something of these two pieces. The heart of these pieces is the concept of Liberty and her descent into the madness of ever encroaching religiosity. I can think of no time better than a moment where we here in my home state of California are being asked to vote as to whether or not a valuable aspect of the human experience meets the requirement set for being treated with the dignity and respect deserved to all peoples. As an American, I am saddened, albeit unsurprised, by the question. I know and have known too many people not to be outraged. Here are the pieces, the first is an examination of the idea of religious encroachment upon Liberty, the other, the moment of Liberty’s demise. The second should actually be contained in the first, though I like them separated. Despite their tone, I do keep hope. If anyone ever reads this, Thank You.

...they say she gone mad...
whipped the way that skin gets torn when
bound the way that hands pray
there comes through this valley a ghost encased in gold
a rider with scars on his hands
and a fortune teller dying in the sun

she holds the home together with grit
hard the way that only your children's deaths can
sewn the way that dried up makes
there is dust in the distance
and the air doesn't want to move

a wolf raises his ears like sound had cracked
and watches the trio roll by
haunch over hunch and lost it would seem
save the smell of fear
from the house just ahead

she bars the door like fort
and watches with hard pale eyes
close like secrets they gather their strength in long breaths
but not enough
and they make a camp just outside

two days pass and she has not blinked
a cross in one hand and the rifle in the other
hoping one will protect her
and the other set her free

on the third day the fortune teller dies
and as the ghost gets drunk
the rider rips his right eye out and decides against the other
just as the corpse had said he would do

burned the way that desert is cracked
snared the way that paws trapshe is finally shocked into sleep
long the way of failed hunt
her grip on freedom slides

the ghost will take her soul
the rider the eye he thinks will suit
the fortune teller rises from the dead
and as the dust gets kicked up away away
the wolf moves into the home

-arf 06

...oh say can she see...
she spills herself onto broken ground
watches her insides go
with hands not meant for this she holds in what she can
but the pressure and the heat and the ooze of it all keeps
it allows itself out
storming like flash

there is hoping
there is praying
there will be more symptoms to bear

her breath is hot lead
a mix of molten dreams and fiery contempt
as if lung against lung were the natural order of things
she tells herself she will not keel silently
as her tongue melts on the floor at her feet

there is salutingt
here is singing
there will be more losses like this

someone lesser by now would not be
her skin becoming a terrible candy
a treat for the hurt in its hour of need
still her balance holds
but she is no longer sureif it is her or it
or both holding fast to the other

there is demanding
there is warring
there will be more fearful dark ahead

breakpoint passed she feels it all crack
the know in her must try and hold

along the edges of her dazed vision
she sees enough to warrant the next promise
of another day
another step closer
to a heal
that snuck out behind her
years ago

-arf 06

Thursday, April 03, 2008

not so new song

…the fourth of July…

I got corn
I got dreams
And there sure seems to be enough pie

I got you
You got me
And we’ve both got the fourth of July

It’s the fourth of July
It’s the fourth of July
We’re sending all our hopes
Up in smoke
On the fourth of July

Well Jenny’s winning the sack race
Dragging Johnny by his toes
And grandma’s sneaking one more spirit
How many she’s had
Who knows

It’s the fourth of July
It’s the fourth of July
We’re sending all our hopes
Up in smoke
On the fourth of July

The kids are all ‘round Uncle Charlie
As he digs for loose change
Cause every quarter from his pocket is sure to buy more rockets
For what might as well be outer space

It’s the fourth of July
It’s the fourth of July
We’re sending all our hopes
Up in smoke
On the fourth of July

I’m about to ask
If I can hold your hand
But just when I do
You grab mine
And hell I’ll be damned


Say goodnight
As the family takes flight
And gathers up all their things
Sweep the ashes into a pile
And thank the Lord for all he brings

I got corn
I got dreams
And there sure seems to be enough pie

I got you
You got me
And we’ve both got the fourth of July

It’s the fourth of July
It’s the fourth of July
We’re sending all our hopes
Up in smoke
On the fourth of July

We’re sending all our hopes
Up in smoke
On the fourth of July

We’re sending all our hopes
Up in smoke


-arf 07

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

...a few songs...

…the way…

Your fortune says that you might kill your brother
You cant be sure but you wont tell no other
Till you’ve lost your way
With no paupers left standing to pay
A blood stained cloud in the wake of all you’ve slain
Makes you weep at night for refrain
Cause you’ve lost your way
You deny but you’re deep in the fray
Of a broken life
An evil strife

You want to get out you get right back in
Tell yourself it’s the way its been
Lying awake you cant sleep at night
Sitting up till the craving takes flight
You’re on the prowl till dawn makes light

Your fortune says that you might kill your brother
You can’t be sure but you won’t tell no other
Till you’ve lost your way
Knees down and your trying to pray
A grizzly list of sins you convey
Making god weep at night and regret that sixth day
Cause you’ve lost your way
You know but knowing somehow makes it gray
In your mind’s eye
You’ve already died

You want to get out you get right back in
Tell yourself it’s the way its been
Lying awake you cant sleep at night
Sitting up till the craving takes flight
You’re on the prowl till dawn makes light

This has got to end
You’ve been left with a one and only friend
You look around and there surely there’s no other
You take a breath and go looking for your brother
And you know the way
Of course you know the way
Of course you know the way
You’ve always known the way


…home free…
suncrests like oxygen
it burns
photograph like x-ray glass
it burns

home free from the jet set scene
like alcohol
like gasoline
breakneck back
'cross the grass
as engines slash
this filthy little dream

potionless like motionless
it burns
gouges like the sharpest knife
it burns
home free from the jet set scene
like alcohol
like gasoline
breakneck back
'cross the grass
as engines slash
this filthy little dream

Thrash about like screams out loud
It burns
Burn free
Burn free

Cauterize this clap trap life
Filth aside I cannot lie
Wake me
wake me

home free from the jet set scene
like alcohol
like gasoline
breakneck back
'cross the grass
as engines slash
this filthy little dream


…gonna fly…
Who
Is here to meet you
Gonna meet you
Gonna fly

Who
Is here to meet you
Gonna meet you
gonna fly

I’m gonna ask you
about your heart now
Abut your
Subtle reasons why

You skulked
And you plotted
My very own demise

A bloody blackened torture creep crawling
Cross your mind
A sickened dace
Of as sycophant
A broken slipper
Just in time

Who
Is here to meet you
Gonna meet you
Gonna fly

Who
Is here to meet you
Gonna meet you
gonna fly