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Bears

Bears, bears, bears!

There were bears everywhere

Now he saw them, all those bears throughout his years.

 

The Panda Bear.

She would come out and stare, and stare.

Blinking ringed black eyes against the rare glimpsed sky.

 

Serene and sober

Conversely troubled but not in a rage

She'd think for a minute, slowly turn, then go back to her cage.

 

The Grizzly Bear.

...

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Bears. dreamsmemoriessurrealism

MY GHOST

Let me write you there where my poems fail,

where endings are new beginnings.

Two aging strand ends, two baby lip ends,
two porous tongue ends, two bone finger ends

in line after lines, repeating, 
'successive matings, successive deaths is also a line'.

Let me call you there where my being searches for its lost,

where hollowness continues as a road.

An extended yet temporary ki...

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surrealism

I'd like you to like me

I'd like you to like me

and I'd like you to know,

Id doesn't like me and Superego doesn't know where to go.

I've planned a trip to where the tulips grow -

find a vein, push a plunger, let the psychotropes flow.

 

I know you don't like me

and we've nowhere to go.

Ego doesn't know what to do and Id has hate to sow.

I'd like you to, I'd like to oblige you to throw

away m...

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depressionDrugssurrealisminternal struggle

Dividing the corners (a prose poem - stream of consciousness type of thing) 97'

DIVIDING CORNERS

 

Five to nine and a horrible reality. Even the carpet thinks so (after yet another coffee mug spills with the ashtray), and probably the band that's jamming away in stereo, thinking smugly, that they're tomorrow's Beatles, selling out arenas to tomorrow's people.

Still it all seems quite reputable compared to the silver cutlery in the drawer next to the microwave, unpoli...

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prose poetrystream of consciousnesssurrealism

Joyce's Umbrella

Have you any idea how hard it is for me to play a G major?
Should I write a standard progression, put the chorus where it should be and scream ‘dada’ in a controlled display of abandon?
Know I am a charlatan?
The only true rebellion would be to, with utter sincerity, believe yourself a penguin
Flying in the face of all authority

AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR
MMMMMMMMMWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRR...

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artdilemmasJames Joyceavant gardepopdadasurrealismautomatic writingBretonpenguin

Hold Rock

Hold Rock

Are you my rock to trip me up before I fall off the edge of the world?

You take me for me, accept that I have problems.

And understand.

Will that understanding destroy you?

Will that be a plateau of levellity?

Perfect stability, eye of the storm.

 

What of you?

 

Do you actually notice me?

I bought her two nice tops and she left me by text message.

 

...

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dark topicgothic poemlife eventssurrealism

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