Archive for Letting Go At Slow Speed

missing (LGASS part 4)…

Posted in Letting Go At Slow Speed, Poetry with tags , on October 22, 2010 by Caribbean Fool

missing

come closer.
darkness
ground to sky &
i can hear
the creek gurgling;
i’m hallucinating
summers afternoon
at midnight.
goosebumps give
away the
delusion.

come closer.
i pulled
my hat
way down;
either hiding
from the dark
or
sitting still
in a daylike
night depending
on what
you know.

come closer.
there should
be music
threatening
to boil over
but never really
getting there;
artificial light
alone
won’t mask the
gurgling creek.

please.

come closer.
alone in falsely
lit two ayem
silence is no
way to
conquer
together. i
could help
you slay
your dragons &
maybe
you’d help me
attack
my demons.

i know you can’t
hear me.
i know you won’t
come closer.

you fight alone;

guess i
should do
the same.

i was
askin’ because
i had
to know
for sure.

good luck
to us both.

——————————————————————-

That took a million damn edits and it still sounds like shit. Don’t care, posting it anyway to get LGASS completed and on to whatever comes next. I’m gonna go watch Casablanca and hopefully dream of Ingrid Bergman in 1942.

have we met (LGASS part 3)…

Posted in Letting Go At Slow Speed, Poetry with tags , on October 17, 2010 by Caribbean Fool

(LGASS part 3)

have we met?

stare at me
as long as you want;
strange sight, isn’t
it?
(that’s an awful lotta
hair for a dude, dontcha
think?)

i mean,
i can ignore anything
if you make
it worth my while.
holding my breath &
waiting,
waiting,
waiting,
exhale long,
breathe deep
& a
pleasant sigh.

remember when we could have those
conversations
that would last for days
& even then the best we
ever did was agree to
disagree?
yeah,
me either.

still, ain’t nothin’
really worth staring at.
why are
you(?)
looking at me like that?

—————————————————————–

The LGASS series will run 1 more poem, having been shortened to 4 from 5. Thanks much for reading as always.

shoulder tapped again (LGASS part 2)…

Posted in Letting Go At Slow Speed, Poetry with tags , on October 15, 2010 by Caribbean Fool

shoulder tapped again

even if what
hippies say is true
(i’m pretty sure it ain’t)
& we’re all cosmically
connected to god’s
big toe on his left
foot, i can’t see how
answering the question
you’re about to ask
can cost me anything
but time and maybe
500 bucks.

even if i
support your
teenage efforts to
pick up a pack of
Camels or a case
of beer, you’re
five years late
askin’ me.

even if you
ain’t found the store
(there’s always one)
that won’t hassle you
for details like
formal identification
or questions of
relative experience,
i assure you they’re open.
it’ll be easier on us
both; you’ll get
what you want
& i won’t feel bad
about not helping
a stranger in need.

“man, you’re a
real asshole. thanks
for nothin’.”

even if he’s
right, i wanna tell the kid
“don’t get fooled
so easily by appearance”
but he’s already gone.
some kids learn harder
than others.

nothing ’bout gettin’
along in the universe
is as easy as it
might otherwise be.

—————————————————————

That came out much faster than I thought it would. (Insert ‘that’s what she said joke’ in the comment section.) Two options for part 3, that might take more time to decide where we go from here.

music & rescue (LGASS part 1)…

Posted in Letting Go At Slow Speed, Poetry with tags , on October 15, 2010 by Caribbean Fool

music & rescue

past tense revolt
of dispassionate ease;
limited to
attacks on sobriety,
simple revolution
never fails.

still,
layered (should be)
proto-insignificant
frustrations –
one
on top
another
until every
ice-cube smashed
on linoleum is
an abysmal failure.
missing a tumbler
six inches away
shouldn’t count as epic
anything;
even failure.

i should
stop counting;
one is more
than i know
what to do with.

lucky soul respite
in blueberry music
marking time;
all different,
say different,
speak different,
sing different.

too smacked down
for much else;
glazed glass,
air-tight bottle, 7
earrings & 3 finger
rings & a 3
ring circus with
hot bright light
& more music.

beautiful warmth inside
those shining rings. if
i can’t feel it yet, i know
it’s there to be felt.
want so bad
to be taken in.
no way of knowing
what i need to know
from here;
how the fuck
did i end up outside
lookin’ in?

“hey kid,
dintcha hear?
duct-tape salvation
keeps
everything else
at bay.”

i’m
not averse to
a strangers idea;
long as the music
keeps playing
i guess that
could come next;
beats waiting
around hopin’.

———————————————————

This is part 1 of “Letting Go At Slow Speed.” At the moment, I am planning a five poem arc, but there is room for more if taken in the right direction. I’m sketching out part 2 now and will try to have it up as soon as possible. I’ll make a separate page for it as well, it seems easier to follow the continuity of the series. Anyhow, if you are reading this, thanks for the eyeballs. Appreciated as always.