journal entry, 30 April 2004

Posted in no-mad poetz, poems 2004, taoist, zen with tags , , , , , , on June 20, 2012 by GJK

at a certain point, the mind begins to rebel

against input… there comes a time

when the mind is apparently saturated

and will not absorb anything not yet residing

within its confines.

new information does not stick.

fresh paths do not open.

the circuitry is muddled; it loses its integral beauty…

the mind begins to tell itself

I CANNOT LEARN ANYTHING MORE

and the fear of death, or rather, the fear of finite experience,

begins to resonate in the frigid bowels

of distraction and doubt that permeates

the subconsciouss, bleeding thru into front-mind

moments of lethargy prolonged and

ponderously dominating all vectors

of perception.

GJK

30APR04

GJK_June 12th, 2012

Posted in ah-hah! New Poems!, haiku, humor, poems 2012, sarcasm with tags , , , , , on June 14, 2012 by GJK

i.

beef sizzles on grill

somnolent nose awakens—

pocketful of dimes

— 

           heralds hunger,

           jangles malaise.

 

— 

ii.

— 

cute dimples and eyes

will not convince me to spend

money i don’t have.

— 

           please stop trying,

           ms. ponytail…

 

— 

iii.

— 

blue sky burdens ire,

bombards gloom with happiness

and lightness of heart.

— 

           fuck you, sunshine!

           fuck fresh air, too…

 

 

—          

GJK

12JUN12

2 Poems by Calvin Grandaw

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , on June 1, 2012 by GJK

Wasted dreams, spitting back reality into the grooves

of your dejected, shame-bleeding face.

Paranoid arrogance is confirmed by the endless stream

of one dialogue.

History becomes a comfortable escape. The unreliability
of a coerced memory is a relaxing suffocation,

the sweet repose from excessive breathing,

from the destiny dance you try to avoid;

upon return, waiting, is you,

just you

— 

denuded
and unarmed.

by CALVIN GRANDAW

—————————————————–

 

The footprints in the sky flavor my triumph.
Tales of crude rides salve the wayward hopes,
and steal my drenched respect.

Post storm, silent and regretful,
massaging with wasted solicitude.
Nature’s swallow cannot hold the end.

The footprints in the sky are clouds, you say.

No, they’re illusions, unattainable as they are.

by CALVIN GRANDAW
———————————————————-

 

d.1 / d.2 [previously published in NORTHERN LIGHTS, UW-Marinette, Spring 2005]

Posted in best of GJK, Northern Lights, poems 2005, UW-Marinette with tags , , , , , on April 11, 2012 by GJK

d.1

— 

she takes up

another stone

places it on her bent

shoulder, stoops forward

a little more to balance

the weight.  always

she is doing this

inexplicable thing—

bearing others’ burdens.

one thing i know

for certain—she

is a better person

than i.

my shoulders are

too thin—

wretchedly

horribly thin—

to do what she does.

— 

when i try to analyze

the difference

between us

my only conclusion

is that she knows how to

love

much better than i.

— 

GJK, 20FEB05

d.2

— 

she takes up

another stone

her shoulder sinking

her frame straining forward

to balance the weight.

she is always doing this,

bearing burdens for others.

she carries so much

that does not belong to her

laboring faithfully

often thanklessly

and i am mystified

by her tenacity.

— 

under such a weight

i would stagger

topple

fall broken

to the ground.

GJK, 23FEB05

muddy fields

Posted in no-mad poetz, poems, poems 2001, taoist with tags , , , , , , , on April 11, 2012 by GJK

passing time

in the killing fields of earth –

decay in every speck of molecular substance.

killing time

in autumn’s blowing mist,

killing time

passing the day in sickness

decay in the teeth and lungs and heart

we are all dying from that first moment –

that first spark of conception

is purity unsurpassed…

ragged vagabond clouds press down

suppressing summer’s openness –

heaven hides behind a veil

as the hunter

strings his bow.

Orion’s cartwheel dance

blurs galactic star-shine.

passing time

in the muddy fields of harvest –

plants disintegrate, molt to soil.

killing time

in solace of rain,

and subsequent soak of skin

renders dim delinquent desire.

 

 

GJK  Oktober 2001

to Maus, 10APR12

Posted in no-mad poetz, poems 2012 with tags , , , on April 10, 2012 by GJK

mos.thisiscallandresponsepoetry.gar.1

so, twelve years later,

it begins again.

there is no void-fog,

there is no

ten dollars a distance.

it is still red arrow

but now

it is

60 bucks a week

and nothing but clarity.

no rest

for the compassionate, yes?

battle-cat is now juniper

and you is me

and me is her

and we understand

goji-wolf-passion-fruit.

we are what we are,

no wilting flowers,

not we in 2012 a.d. –

no more flowers.

me is green

and she is yello/purple queen

we are plums

we are salt

we are apple-vinegar

we are love

and we

are on our way.

 

GJK

10APR12

03:00 CDT

 

—        —        —

 

mos.thisiscallandresponsepoetry.gar.2

 

 

[Maus, will you be my editor?]

 

 

to all my friends

 

brothers…

scott k.

you are my best man,

it’s just that you had a store to run…

t-money and mason r.

thanks for being there…

steph r. and nicole k.

i love you both as well…

as far as in-laws go

i couldn’t ask for nicer sisters,

 

and as for sisters,

annie e.

you are the best

and only real sister

that i have.

you are my teacher

and my friend.

m. radloff…

ha!  that’s all i need to say, brother,

except you inspire me.

your words, your kindness,

your photographs…

and tasha,

you are the best.

 

and as for LOVE,

dannyel d. (resch) karman,

it’s always been you.

i have revived no-mad poetz,

sparrow and i have revived

conscripted by the muse.

but you,

you are the one

that revived me.

 

eternally grateful,

and, as ever,

i am yours,

 

 

GJK

the 10th of April 2012 a.d.

an open letter to Wisco

Posted in Uncategorized on April 6, 2012 by GJK

this must end,

this strife.

i am salt mineral,

lithium ion

battery

and fire.

i am stoned

meaning only

i am a stone

standing alone, here

in marinettey,

i am stone and fire

and yello is the wind

and water

that both stokes and quenches

that kindles and smooths,

we are elemental,

sirs and ladies,

we are united.

so, JMS, you must know

that she is the muse

i speak of

the rock-star

to my pen-fire,

you must know

but not understand

how you shat all over her

when we three rode thru g.b.

and you disrespected that

“UK poppy shit”

so we switched to audio-

slave (which you claim to like)

and proceeded to TALK

all over the top of it…

how you hurt her and my self

when you HAD TO LEAVE

that place

with those ignorant

people

ya know what?

you shat on me

on twenty years of toil

and blood spent writing

you just couldn’t wait outside

for twenty minutes

’til my turn at the mic…

 

 

but so what?

we are brothers,

it is all good.

i suffer too.

we all do.

i am losing my brother S.

because of bullshit between

me and his wife,

a college friend of mine

is just now burying his mother,

yello and i are relocating,

but so what,

it is just another day.

toxic incense isn’t really

that much of a big deal.

to all i know,

i love…

i have thrown my phone

in the trash.

you all

can find me

at home,

 

or you can’t.

 

but home

is where

i will be.

GJK

6APR12

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