The Marshmallow’s hella mattress;
It is the phattest.
I swim under the covers
And curl up with my favorite actress.
One big pillow, this Marshmallow,
Stealthy quicksand for a tired fellow.
Posts Tagged ‘Sand’
The Marshmallow’s hella mattress;
Tags: Chloe, Moon, Rock, Sand, Santa Barbara, Sea, Sky, Star, Stick
A feeling I caught, awash in sand and sea
Bringing back some faint, foolish memory:
Chloe and stickman and rockman and I
In love for an evening because we were high.
Iceplant and kindling on the Santa Barbara sand
A stage built for my improvised puppets and hands.
Under the star-patched, moon-cloudy sky
We loved Chloe dancing, sticks, rocks, and I.
One time I found
That I loved the warmth
Excavated by nesting:
Burrowing so far
Into a pile of pillows,
A weight of blankets,
The I left the world behind.
These were the laps
Of my imaginary mothers;
They were the arms
Of my dream-lovers.
Safe and tight
Inside a womb of covers,
Tented fabric and
Kept me secluded
From the shellshock of
Tags: Dawn, Eye, Halo, Hate, Love, Sand, Santa Barbara
Forever I wanted to please you,
Hold you and keep your eyes and halo bright.
I am shy of you now;
Unimaginably wretched when in your sight.
I shall never love another like you.
There is nothing to turn my heart away.
And so this hurts the most;
That I was not able to keep pace today.
Lost and still losing you,
Time was an hourglass of Santa Barbara sand.
I must tie you down to love you.
Violation upon demand.
One comfort I still cherish
That I am still worthwhile to hate
Perhaps this can be rectified
If I can pull my own dead weight.
Isn’t it tragic to be so wise
And profess to know the answers,
Yet I help myself to my most delicious lies
And avoid mirrors like they were cancer.
Can’t get it right – I am still hollow
Inflated, life like sleight of hand,
No deserters; the blind still follow
This blind man across the sand.
Tags: Beer, Blue, Boy, Monte Carlo, Ocean, Sand, Sunset Cliffs, Wind
Once, while sitting
On a tide-surrounded
Piece of Sunset Cliffs,
I smelled boyhood,
A summer scent:
Warm sand, blue cool ocean,
Seaweed, shells, swells, surf wax;
Coconut tanning oil
The silence of waves before they break,
Bodyboard rash and sunburns,
The sharp asphault places in the parking lots,
Kicking sand on the backs of your calves
When wearing flip flops.
Bonfires and beer drinking,
Big Olaf’s waffle cones;
Smoke and fireworks and Frisbees,
Barbeques, volleyball leather, and Cokes.
The wet, towel-covered vinyl seats
In the Monte Carlo,
All in one accurate slap
Of a wave and the wind
Gracing my face.
I’m trying to escape;
Now, too late
To unchoose what I chose
What seems like long ago.
The responsibilities come
Steady, now – steady
As the tide churns the sand
On the beach is another
Wrinkle in the lines of my hand.
Roll with the punches, punch drunk;
More are on their way,
There’s no use cursing
About the ones landed yesterday.
Tags: Car, Eye, Rhythm, Sand, Sky, Song, Stars, Wind
To the hip-hop rhythm of my break-beat bounce
I sing sun stars surf stoopid something amounts
To a funky fresh freestyle flowing fast and far
from the breakers to the speakers in the trunk of your car.
I get a little sparkle like the wind in my eye
When the sun is shining steady from the stretch of the sky.
Outside doubles dating skating surfing and tanning
Hacky-sacking frisbee throwing bubble blowing — outstanding!
Groove, move and schmoove like a rubberband.
Take a dip in the drink and dry out on the sand…
Tags: Beach, Cat, Child, Joy, Love, Sand
I forget the joy of writing
then reading what I’ve written,
curling like a kitten play-fighting
with the same gentle hands
that stroke poems from the sand
of the beaches that I walk on
when I haven’t forgotten
that I love to be alone sometimes
with my simple childish rhymes.
Tags: Beach, Blue, Eye, Love, Ocean, Pennywise, Salt, Sand, Sea, Tide
when I am away
I know that I am in love
with salts and breezes
from the ocean
that would go well
with your blonde hair,
for your big blue eyes,
in the reflection of the sun
on the sealskin sand
of the tide on the beaches.
and I am the mist
that crawls in off the old pieces
of the sea that were caught
in tidepool fishing nets last night;
I come wrapping, a stole
around the necks of the cliffs,
rising up from the beach,
heads sheared off like
so many broken Michaelangelos.
I can imagine the surf in my hair
and the chill of the air,
when I stand up from the water
so I don’t go into the ocean.
because I’m a lilly-livered chickenshit.
I’ll walk down the cool tarry sand
and pretend that I’m under a wave;
trying to feel the slick water bead
on my skin and drip from my chin
because I’m far too afraid to go in.
heated with rose wine
from a big cheap bottle,
I immerse myself in beach sand.
full and sun-warm,
like the fat flavored wine,
like Mediterranean sea-air;
I remember through the hiss of the surf
how it was like blood down the back of my throat,
and how I must have been meant to drink blood on the beach.
Tags: Boy, Crow, Druid, Eagle, Eye, Heart, Sand, Tree
wherever you walk
I watch from treetops
still your little blue boy.
my eyes haven’t suffered
the same sanding that my heart has.
I see like an eagle hunts
and my heart heals.
I see a sad Druid.
the crows raise eyebrows at me
but I show them my eyes
and they understand.
we’re all watching you
from our treetops.
Tags: Cry, Eye, Hate, Heart, Laura, Love, Memories, Mind, Moore, Red, Sand, Tears, Time
damn you and your love;
wouldn’t it be so much easier
if one of us hated the other.
I can’t hate you,
believe me I’ve tried;
I curse and strain
but I just cry and cry,
crying out for lost love:
to be able to love
I could drown in the tears I’ve cried
about loving you: I hurt inside.
the touch of your fingers, your time
are promises, memories from my mind.
I was clear, free from the haze
that characterized my early days
of loving and living, doing my forgiving
of all the hurt that’s ever been done to me.
whatever I need, stays.
I slide from place to place
as worry gets ahold of my face
to sculpt away. I can’t stand
the tentative way you touch my hand,
that pleading look deep in your eyes
makes my foolish heart soar and dive.
I’m holding all my hourglass sand
in the useless sieve I’ve made with my hands;
the more of it that trickles away,
the bigger grows that personal haze.
Tags: Beach, Blood, Moon, Mother, Ocean, Salt, Sand, Sea, Sky, Tide, Water, Woman
it is something, standing by the sea,
feeling my heart and my blood
fashioned rudely out of ocean-salt
and the milk of beach-foam.
I feel the pull of the moon
on the tide standing here,
examining the sky
in the sheen of the wet sand,
in the surface of the water.
I smell the wet sexuality
of my ever moving mother;
a lover of immense strength;
hypnotic, the woman with depths
for her eyes, skin wet and fluid,
salty hips and buttocks and breasts,
cheeks and lips and thighs
in the flexing of waves and
in the rolling of the water, the foam.
Tags: Cloud, Clouds, Dreams, Light, Ocean, Sand, Sea, Sky, Spider, Stars, Time, Untitled, World
once upon a time I was a youth,
no corpse dream thing, tiny and small,
but I was as big as the world,
bright and unbuttoned like metal.
I bend and I breathe.
the sieve of my skin leaks the sand
of my cloud life;
strange clouds, odd clouds
for people far away on cliff tops
to comment on and guess shapes in,
to play drums into rhythms for.
clouds of youth dreams;
light pouring through in great angled falls
touches the ocean far below me.
in awe, I flood across the sky.
a spider slowly connects the dots of stars
to build constellations of ships
for wistful sailors of empty seas.
Tags: Blood, Frog, Green, Sand, Spider, Spirit, Stone, Stream, Trees, Water, Wind
the splayed hands of the roots
stop searching when I walk past,
but if I listen I hear them quiver
with life blood, holding boulders
when I climb down. unwrapping
and fanning the wind into life
are trees with green springtime leaves.
they swept me along like sand in an undertow.
I scramble and slip down through the branches
and jumbled rocks of the stream bed,
listening to the pianos of the water falling
into each other, over moss sewn stone.
beside a sheet of embroidered water
is a cavern of dripping stone:
Frog Haven, hidden behind
a bead-curtain of hanging roots
dipped in the creek,
pouring and pooling away.
we are the spirits who define this place.
here, the fall of clear water
is the curve of a spine;
here, the thrust of smoothed stone
is the swell of our muscles.
speaking with the voices of the different cascades,
with tongues of roots and leaves;
breathing out sunlight and forest dust to see by.
here, a trough has worn in the rock,
running happy with songs of mountain stones;
here, several strands of spider-thread,
or elf-hair, to be plucked by the hand of the wind.
Tags: Blood, Bones, Dreams, Echo, Eye, Fire, Flesh, Flowers, Forest, Frog, God, Green, Moon, Orange, Parents, Purple, Rain, Red, Rhyme, Rock, Sand, Sea, Stars, Stone, Water, Wind, Wings, Yellow
I can wish as hard as I want without trying.
Maybe it takes a nervous breakdown
To examine the croak of a frog.
A rich man tapes his hands to his sides
Drowning in treasures but refusing to decide
Which pearls he wants to wear for eyes.
To the grey lands to search for the sunken man,
Glowering in the shadow under a rock.
“Come in under the shadow of this red rock -
“I will show you fear in a handful of dust.”
Of ash, of bone, of moon, of stone;
Cadaverous, skin a dizzying kaleidoscope of veins.
I screamed, hands clenched to my eyes, alone,
Falling apart under that brittle stone.
pretending to have misplaced my watch,
I asked a current friend for the time.
she looked at me curiously, sadly,
then asked why I no longer rhyme;
walked away as I demanded an answer
from myself; I never saw her again.
time to find another friend.
Sweating and dirty from working,
I keep forgetting to steal some of the diamonds
I’m mining for other people.
At home, I’ve got this dusty blowtorch
Right next to my aspiration to smelt the world.
Been a long time since I burned anything
On purpose. Last time it was my wings.
Pushing the dirt around on my face
With the same oily rag, I promise
Again to go on a picnic in a forest,
Then pause, shaking my head slowly
To get rid of an echo.
O black soil, heavy and rich, warm
With the fires of life, thick and moist
Under my nails, in my eyes and ears,
Filling my lungs with blood,
Burnishing my skull with her coppery breath,
Arms sunk to the shoulders in the forest earth;
Black earth goddess.
A poem incarnate: thee, poet.
Vision, mind, thought, dreams,
Thinking in every sense of a word.
And a blackbird.
I came forth with a handful of seashells
(to the froggy applause
of the people’s jaws
creaking in their mechanical sleep),
Following May, who’s going home
To dwell with her enigmatic stone.
Placing shells to wait on the sill
And for her to discover
Like a faucet-spray of dry flowers.
Walking on the sidewalk I’ve
Empty hands in my pockets,
Imagining how she’ll find them
Over and over.
Flying through the rain on a wind of strings,
He flew with the ease of a soul,
Tall and clear-eyed with violins in his hair.
I saw him from the shore
And waved him out to sea,
Rushing over the water’s open grave.
they poured their hearts
out into the bowl of my fingers,
flesh and water and soggy stitches,
Lost and drowned
in the ashes of childhood,
the sorry sons-of-bitches.
I breathed into my palms,
Taking each by their tenebrous hands,
And throwing them into the darkened heavens:
stars like two flung shoe-fulls of sand.
Spinning around and around underneath,
Watching them swim, these stars, good-bye;
Constellations of the smiling faces
of my parents,
One on each half of the sky.
I ran through the stacks of cars
After him that flew away by the seat of his pants.
I, too, cannot answer the question:
“What is the grass?”
I can no longer remember.
Standing under a leprous moon,
In a field of strobed weeds,
In a circle of garish flowers
Heads trembling in a sort of gleeful fear.
Looking at my arms, my hands,
The vegetation was purple, orange, yellow, green,
turned pale by the light of the stone in the sky
shown bone by the fire suffused in my eye.
The moon grinned, sunken in the dust of a scream.
sometimes the voices get faraway
when I sit in the sandbox and play.
I don’t know why I pushed my trucks
around, I did it anyway.
Tags: Dream, Mirror, Ocean, Sand, Stars, Window
as a dream
there is seaweed,
on my wrist,
sand in my nails;
my window was open
to the stars,
Imitation of The Hand
holding endless golden grains of sand
at arm’s length – my hand
sifts thoughtful each piece’s worth
feeling the elemental drums of the earth.
Imitation of The Island
alone on an island,
I build my own church
and it was nothing
because I’d rather have died.
Tags: Ape, Closet, Dragon, Fly, Forest, Green, Light, Mom, Mushrooms, Purple, Rat, Rock, Sand, Shoes, Sleep, Sneeze, Stars, Tide
I, ape, eat mushrooms
in a forest of multicolored furniture
all from the room of a girl
the carpety grass is foaming upwards.
shoes play hide and seek when I
sneak around in the closet.
they shut it always behind them.
find them cavorting and wagging their tongues.
I live in the closet.
I read old travel books and sigh.
funny little bugs comb my hair for me.
the shoes galumph like tiny dragons.
my rat escaped.
I, ape, drink cappuccino
alone under the pillars of marbled ice cream,
whittling leaves to stick to their sides with thumbtacks.
I sit quietly under a quilt made
of Stars by Mom long long ago that is too small.
it’s fun to push around
on the tiled floors
on my butt, pretending to have no legs.
the leaves turn purple with the sunset paintset.
everything is quiet and
you can see your reflection in everything.
I, ape, peer through the closet door slats
but can only see the carpet that changes color.
sometimes I can’t fly my kite for the roof.
I move the stuffed animals
and make them nod and wave.
there was a lake, big and pretty and I was scared
to throw rocks into it.
there’s a story behind all these shelves.
I wish I had some pudding.
just to sit and eat pudding;
lick the back of the spoon
in this forest
I, ape, wear a green felt hat for no reason,
puzzled by the paintings in the empty museum.
I search all the video games for quarters.
dusting the lampshades is fun;
it makes me sneeze and then I dance in the mucous-mist.
I sing myself to sleep in the queer half-light
of the green stone moon
poking my head in holes in the ground.
I play a silly flute
on the sand left by the retreating tide,
sometimes dragging a stick for miles,
then falling asleep
on the carpet.
I, ape, remember all this,
dreamed before I was built of gristle
and hair, wound with a turnkey and set on the linoleum
my nest in the rocks was burnt
when I returned with some candy I’d found,
so I ate it in the wet soot.
I’ve smoke in my eyes.
I’ve loved you for so long;
now I can fly
and I leave all this hair and skin
and my shoes
I have killed you before in a dream
and I was savagely happy with myself
playing in the sandbox alone
with my painted toys and
turning the hose on and washing
your blood from my dump truck.
don’t worry if I dream without you
I won’t care if you hang me
by my left foot and burn my skin
off until I bleed wetly, just
a pinata even after we’re dead
I regenerate, you’ll heal, I’ll get you
I see in you
the movement of a wave
and sliding quietly
over the sand.