flung

Posted in prose, zen with tags , , , , , , , , on October 25, 2014 by GJK

whether or not you open your eyes it is there staring at you

taunting you breathing its demon-heat upon you it is only reality

no need to fear or hide from it but goddamn some days

you just want to stay asleep.  your eyelids droop with the

gravity of toil and regret and you want to forget you want

to disavow everything want to coil inward refusing to

acknowledge that anything is real.  and you’re right.

nothing is real.  but you are in a dream that requires your

participation and you are too weary to lift any stones today

too worn thin to be burdened by anything too wretchedly spent

to even tolerate awareness of your own existence.

oh but the day is passionless it cares not for you

or anyone.  it is flung upon you and it can be a shroud

or a sail.  you wonder whether it matters but grudgingly

you try to summon a ragged wind.

GJK

21OCT14

silence

Posted in prose, zen with tags , , , , , , , , on October 25, 2014 by GJK

silence whines eerily thwarts all attempts at

meditation so what what do i do?  fevered, addled,

sweating-then-shivering languishing in sickness i am

tortured by the mosquito-like scream boring itself into

my ears and temples, labored breathing, reality askew.

dxm and pineapple juice in a glass cup oozes down into the cracks

of a stoney afternoon a sick day an infirmary for one

for myself the sticky meltiness clings to the throat and

teeth the fucking insistency of that sound!  that electric

swarm of hornets surrounds me with all the fury of

an unbridled sun burning away consciousness with its

all-consuming glaring barrenness… it shatters

peace of mind, this wedge of calamity.

GJK

16OCT14

is here

Posted in New Poems with tags , , , , on October 7, 2014 by GJK

cringe cowered under the silver yolk

slivers of consciousness sever spinal cord

i am absurdly protected

living here

where i live.

elsewhere fucked.

but refuge is here

living here

where i live.

GJK, 7OCT14

red house, blue house, purple haus

Posted in New Poems, poems, poems 2014 with tags , , , , , , , , , on October 7, 2014 by GJK

this guy thinks he’s jimi but he ain’t

but he’s good he tears at the soul

he bleeds well

on the fretboard.

this guy is trapped in digital playback

but the guts still scream

transcendence

he got the blues.

i am a red man here hearing him

in freedom u.s.a.

but my heart is off in a workers’ paradise

in a world we are still dying to create

and my love is gone

(not my peaceful heart but my beloved)

so i’m down enough to be striving upward

into royal purple sundowns and dawns

a triumph every day

to just simply

not quit.

not quit fighting for meaning and depth

and grandest of all,

the humor to carry on

amid the horrors.

this guy ain’t jimi but he got the job done

he goaded me into this poem

in his own blessed

frail little way.

GJK

7OCT14

nothing

Posted in Uncategorized on October 7, 2014 by GJK

GJK:

zen from 2010

Originally posted on poems by GJK:

the beat is in me it is my heart

the beat is in you it is yours to keep

or share as you see fit

the beat is us

we are united

because we are human

because we are mammal

because we are animal

because we are spirit

the beat is also in stone and tree

it is in everything you have ever seen

or could ever imagine

the beat is in soil and plant

the beat is vegetable too

and all of this is simply

another way to say

you are what you eat

and even more than that

you are what you perceive

so you are everything

and i am everything

and in the larger scheme

we are nothing

we are nothing together

there is therefore

not a single thing

to worry about

ha

so this is it

you and…

View original 15 more words

knowing now

Posted in Uncategorized on October 7, 2014 by GJK

GJK:

old wounds…

Originally posted on poems by GJK:

knowing you

are sleeping serenely

in our bed,

in the bed that came to us

not from a store

but from the spare room

of that beloved old lady’s apartment

where you spent so many nights

without me,

makes it sometimes tumultuous

when sleep eludes me

and i pace quietly

unsure of what to do

with myself

knowing you

slept in that bed

less than ten steps

from my grandmother

as she lived on in those last

few years

before the day

that she stopped living

makes it melancholic for me

now

remembering nights i spent

drunk alone, here,

in this dwelling

that neither of us

truly feels is home

nights that found me on the floor

cradling my skull in my elbow

rocking myself not to sleep

but to whatever heartache

or reverie i could muster

with my face inches from the speakers

ears enthralled by

View original 151 more words

i am alone

Posted in Uncategorized on October 7, 2014 by GJK

GJK:

dusting off the year 2012

Originally posted on poems by GJK:

—-

i am alone in the diner

in the back corner as usual

and by alone i mean

there are no other customers

i hear the cook and waitress

gossiping away in the kitchen

as if they are unaware

i can hear them

as if i’m not here

which is fine

because i’m not here

i am nowhere

i am not even me

i am a flesh-pile that breathes

i

i

i is devoid of meaning.

but the point is that

the teeming masses

in this tiny hamlet

are all, apparently, at home

or in taverns and bars

watching football.

important football.

the playoffs!

THE CONFERENCE CHAMPIONSHIPS,

in fact.

and it is good and right

that they are doing

what they are doing

the football on TV

the beer

the booze

the bratwurst

the filial love found between

fellow fans,

though few would admit it’s love,

oh it is good…

View original 92 more words

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 81 other followers