[ Poetry ]
by dagger
@ 13.01.2007 08:29 CEST
Ravenly Gate from Bruford's Bay
wet white gauze 'gainst hot raw metal
revolving dancers revolving chambers
a compulsion to drum
a purple thumb here and there
yeah the GOP got their photo op
then continued killing
stay on this side
don't run cross the street
i don't trust them
Abe's mother said
her history would prove correct
as the laser tracers fell
with a burst of infrared bomblets for good measure
take down a sign and reverse the flow
scuttleproof systems and 4D Maps with geolocation
it just means the asshats are asking for it
so be it
so be it
they shot a mayor in Louisiana because he was black
they shot 4 New Orleans activists
they shoot their neighbors
and they'll shoot you too
don't mind the killer bees
they just see an opportunity to thrive
over on the west side
ho ho ho
another 30 dead
happy new year
a few hundred more
every 4 hours an American Soldier is allowed to die
ever 4 hours another family must be notified
there will be no reunion on the tarmac
[ Poetry ]
by dagger
@ 09.01.2007 08:58 CEST
heart throbbed so vividly on vinyl and peppermint sticks
the man in the basement walks out
his hand is bandaged and he looks grey as grey can be
the pressure in my brain increases and I fall
he tries to help but I cannot reach out
I try to say help me again and again
I wake up and the dog is scared and I am scared and I check the basement door.
rip cord approach lifts upwind and off course
landing feet from far flung fury
dolly had her voice
and dolly had her rhythm
while johnny leered with glee
every movie
every movie
should be thrown into a footlocker
and given cement shoes
dot dot slash
it was sams dog in a spike lee voice
it was sams dog in a spike lee voice
and I just wanted to get out of there
perhaps run across Rickie Lee and finally
live that fantasy
with an acoustic guitar
and a lone quiet bar
on the last night of the year
so says Kip
who followed me around all day
and smiled at odd times
like while staring at my hands
or bent knees
even my lighter has 20inch rims these days
in plastic wrapped on plastic surrounding butane
and pressure release
we build our own pressure I always say
but I wont say September left me whole last year
I wont say that
[ Poetry ]
by dagger
@ 24.12.2006 04:09 CEST
synchronous shoulders dip legally glued and blue stained
an eel is on the crack looking like sidewalks black tar
that flag aint a flag its a bag soaked in kerosene
a minister is minstering at no one inparticular
saying learning to stare was the best lesson of all
and this shadow of Tom Jones won't leave him alone
Slipkids tired on the way in that bus all alone
one will see his real mom again
and make her the woman she wanted to be
and I'll stare and I'll stare and I'll stare