haiku |
"Can I have a light?"Our cigarettes are our own;We all share the fire.
Posted by Mark on Sat, 12 Aug 2006 02:01:00 PST |
The Beast pt 2 |
Three bowls, two beers, countless cigarettes:The beast refuses to die.We have it in a stranglehold,we who have searched for pure meaning.It unleashes fratricide, drugs, & crippling vacuum,the prophets...
Posted by Mark on Wed, 28 Jun 2006 12:43:00 PST |
The Politics of Drunken Sex |
To be not a man, but a young god, treading for the first time on new soil,This is the only life for me.Body wrapped in poems scrawled under...
Posted by Mark on Sat, 24 Jun 2006 01:46:00 PST |
No longer there pt 2 |
At work,I see you,but I am not there,and you are not there either.I go away, to an inner silenceyou cannot disturb,& as to your whereaboutsI cannot even conjecture,for the resulting excercizein pr...
Posted by Mark on Tue, 13 Jun 2006 01:21:00 PST |
5.27.06 |
The words do not flow so easily as they have in the past, but I know that by now I am the master and they will still do my bidding, these small favors of love and destruction. After these...
Posted by Mark on Fri, 09 Jun 2006 10:03:00 PST |
No longer there |
A dead woman liesin an open casketand all that is leftis nothing,is the act of gettingused to the fact thatthat personisn't here anymore.But there areother ways thata person can beno longer there,leav...
Posted by Mark on Fri, 09 Jun 2006 09:57:00 PST |
Ocean roads |
Ocean roads leave patterns stuttered on my eyelids.We drive slow & hug the turns under starlights.My upper level is uplifted ...
Posted by Mark on Fri, 09 Jun 2006 09:54:00 PST |
The Beast |
Two bowls and a cigarette;we step outsideand the conversation lies dead at our feet.having slain the Beast between us,we sit back and ride,content to know that we are notcigarettes inside,and when all...
Posted by Mark on Wed, 08 Mar 2006 07:35:00 PST |
Haiku |
On hung-over mornings
Like a hypnotized angel
I make you breakfast
Posted by Mark on Mon, 01 Jan 1900 12:00:00 PST |
... |
You are the one who
in the moon holds herself,
dreaming of soft
summer skies.
And I am the loon,
who laughs at the moon
and reflects the world
in his eye.
Posted by Mark on Mon, 01 Jan 1900 12:00:00 PST |
