tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53068292012-02-07T07:29:20.378-08:00TJ DescThe Complete WorksTimothy Yunoreply@blogger.comBlogger2521100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1127430392624606852005-09-22T16:06:00.000-07:002005-09-22T16:59:18.186-07:00that’s mighty apt blatherfor an extra gently mannered pipnot quite magnum oeuvre-ishit swirled in the company of the current of airhis chic for storytellingsubsequently in strolls the princewho bangs his digitall lop-of-the-skullishdelnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1108744530723592302005-02-18T08:34:00.000-08:002005-02-18T08:35:30.723-08:00that’s proper guffmore severely stiltedless magnum opus-ishit went with the windhis flair for storytellingthen in walked the princewho stubbed his toeall off-with-his-head-ishdelnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1108572171620448562005-02-16T08:41:00.000-08:002005-02-16T08:42:51.623-08:00Yes hello sir!Although I do not drinkcoffee myself I canunderstand its appeal.Dry clothes are amust. The groundis wet.Timothy Yunoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1108483042159926502005-02-15T07:57:00.000-08:002005-02-15T07:57:47.560-08:00GOOD MORNING!a hot coffee wortha 1,000 wordsthis life + apleasant sneezeraindropsdown the eavesof the localdrycleanerdelnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1099697302058260802004-11-05T15:27:00.000-08:002004-11-05T15:28:22.060-08:00half blue
well, forget the color...
mistletoe already on
the coffee cup
shredded nose
vodka, top of the lip
another several months and...
oh i dunno...
regale me.
delnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1095693980371805272004-09-20T08:25:00.000-07:002004-09-20T08:29:42.533-07:00noses left in
ashtrays
Kreymbourg's vistas
blue-striped shirts
powdered
porcelain
delnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1093580858438144552004-08-26T21:23:00.000-07:002004-08-26T21:27:38.436-07:00paint-splattered
city sparked up
fireflies
low-key piano
and tambourine
delnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1093416483166486472004-08-24T23:47:00.000-07:002004-08-24T23:48:41.453-07:00The sun and
on the ground a
formation of caterpillar
Cassie Lewisnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1093280439068457122004-08-23T09:53:00.000-07:002004-08-23T10:00:39.066-07:00Cement steaming from
recent rain
leaves dripping in
Central Park its
red flags
baby strollers
boys with footballs
Down below on the gray lake
well-oiled water birds
glide about unaffected
thunder and lightening
fuels their composure
Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02859712483159397343noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1091992267548363722004-08-08T12:10:00.000-07:002004-08-08T12:11:07.550-07:00Two pine cones
The shadows of the bugs and the birds
One hastening tongue
And a Hawaiian shirt flown over the city
A wall of bricks
Fake orchids
delnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1090967158993342202004-07-27T15:24:00.000-07:002004-07-27T15:25:58.993-07:00"I used to collect ladybugs
and I wanted to be a ladybug for a while."
"My niece was a ladybug."
"I found a green one online once."
"We used to collect dragonflies, too."
"Yeah, my brother and I were totally into insects."
delnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1090368336700216732004-07-20T17:05:00.000-07:002004-07-20T17:05:36.700-07:00oh my gosh!
YES
YES
YES
the little breeze
interrupts the
squirrels...
delnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1089407485436841962004-07-09T14:11:00.000-07:002004-07-09T14:11:25.436-07:00I got the control
YES of clothes and
brown paper baggage
it fits me snug my
bag of control
I got it YES
I operate
we smoke it up
and YES pop
that paper bag
to give us control
YES then fleursdelnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1087573698295108522004-06-18T08:48:00.000-07:002004-06-18T08:48:18.296-07:00extremes
walk north to the dock
past the sandblasted moats
Lucy Bird and the setting sun
we have nothing like the addled
mornings on the cusps of
British inletsdelnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1086494534086211922004-06-05T21:01:00.000-07:002004-06-05T21:02:14.086-07:00More sounds, from the rooftops
the whole town
is a bandCassie Lewisnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1086393837949699712004-06-04T17:01:00.000-07:002004-06-04T17:03:57.950-07:00from the nose he pulled a scarf
a beautiful silk scarf
we were...what's the word...astounded
but then he was blowing his nose
we'd been wrong
& the band struck up
HiveMindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02938703032787728564noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1086133040016814842004-06-01T16:37:00.000-07:002004-06-01T16:37:20.016-07:00smoking up
a curiosity
a blip on the 4:35
to drink to
living together
is more like a
customer number
of superior quality
a pretty blue
delnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1085672546164150342004-05-27T08:42:00.000-07:002004-05-27T08:42:26.163-07:00waking up without any water
smoothing out the wrinkles of no love
all the mirages ache
you’ve got a curiosity
that freezes all over your face—pavement
miragesdelnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1085574120282919202004-05-26T05:18:00.000-07:002004-05-26T05:22:46.973-07:00The sun like a punishment,
like desire
No water but the mirage
of water
No love but the mirage
of love
Strange shrubs, the ache
of thirst
Retreat.Cassie Lewisnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1085520086229843242004-05-25T14:20:00.000-07:002004-05-25T14:21:26.230-07:00It was a desert wasn't it?
Where the heat made the distance
between us waver & our lips split.
HiveMindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02938703032787728564noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1085249966311380722004-05-22T11:19:00.000-07:002004-05-22T11:19:26.313-07:00hula hoops bounding towards the sunCassie Lewisnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1085197162062467492004-05-21T20:37:00.000-07:002004-05-21T20:39:22.063-07:00Blue spilling over onto the table
blue light of thought
The need to evade, to circle
around
the core of hurt: I am alone. I will
always be alone. Is this what pushes us into
the embrace of day? To love is to pitch a tent in
a huge desert separating two people and to look at the stars
there together
The freezing cold desert night, the clarity
of the starsCassie Lewisnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1085157555397460042004-05-21T09:35:00.000-07:002004-05-21T09:39:15.396-07:00The poem rumbles through the forest
like a distant tank
and when it arrives it is not violent,
it is muted
like a muffled cry. Then it bursts into
colour: a rainbow lorikeet.
What can this mean. Later, I think of poems
I must write and I think of 'mental fight'.
It wearies me. Then this poem sidles up
like a cat. I write it down
and draw no firm conclusions.Cassie Lewisnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1085072771640841352004-05-20T10:05:00.000-07:002004-05-20T10:06:11.640-07:00in leadership tips
there is the varied
corporate governance
company websites
(he nibbles an ear)
could be the board of di
rectors yeah it
could be the key
burger assistants
they are capitaldelnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1084558221599623372004-05-14T11:07:00.000-07:002004-05-14T11:10:21.603-07:00I made a stew for you.
Skipped that part of learning.
Watched a goldfish swim toward the whirl
of the toilet water before being pulled down.
Tubers are people too. Canoe canoe.
Can you?HiveMindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02938703032787728564noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1084549353122702782004-05-14T08:40:00.000-07:002004-05-14T08:42:48.166-07:00
wow upside
down is mom
skinny it’s lol
freed woodpiles
blame insanity
for astrick’s
look-a-like
not really
but I hold my
hand holy
for the clouds
to bring
question
marksdelnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1084506227638116682004-05-13T20:40:00.000-07:002004-05-14T09:54:54.146-07:00Holy Batman! Big letters the clouds were going in.
Not a sign per se but an asterisk like look-alike.
Shame about the sham though. wow.
HiveMindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02938703032787728564noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1084046131623754772004-05-08T12:55:00.000-07:002004-05-13T20:39:57.023-07:00the redun sung
big pile of wood
stood for nets
cut from the frame
blame it on the rain
your insanity I mean
look at yourself
you can hardly keep
the cart on the road
guessing will make us
both testy
hold my hand
I just want to stare
at the sun for awhileHiveMindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02938703032787728564noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1083773343259688752004-05-05T09:08:00.000-07:002004-05-05T09:14:23.670-07:00harder frogs on the blue blog
the frost of purpled guesses and
the redundancy of the days when
frogs were roses
people guess further than the
purple blog with the roadmaps
not just the redundancy of the
rose-colored frogs
which are the roses of the blog
or the frosted guesses and the redun
dancy of the greenest oranges with
the reddest toadsdelnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1083685970049662652004-05-04T08:52:00.000-07:002004-05-04T08:56:36.903-07:00or further than the blue blog is
the red blog with the purple cap
blue days make guesses of purp
le further than the red guesses
which are the roses of the blog
and the redundancy of the blue daydelnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1083599957788806942004-05-03T08:59:00.000-07:002004-05-03T09:03:23.000-07:00i guess the redundancy of the
blog is the guess of the redun
dancy of the guess of the blog
of the redundancy which is a
blue day like the redundancy
of the blog is the blue day
which is a red blog and it
guesses a redundancy like the
blog which is the guess of the
roses of the blog and it guesses
a blue day is nothing but a redundelnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1083303077206173792004-04-29T22:31:00.000-07:002004-04-29T22:35:28.140-07:00It's the car I got
for my birthday
I held it in
my hand
like marbles
Guess
how many there wereTimothy Yunoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1083272776679026032004-04-29T14:06:00.000-07:002004-04-29T14:10:27.483-07:00blimming I blammed
the door with my toe
was shut a rock
away from Alaskan
outback the bears
you see
chased us
in a little red car HiveMindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02938703032787728564noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1083270480549833272004-04-29T13:28:00.000-07:002004-04-29T13:32:11.123-07:00fake-out
fourteen
kumquatsdelnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1078519004803763772004-03-05T12:36:00.000-08:002004-03-05T12:39:42.640-08:00ok I am
awake already
wiggle toes and
surface limbs
can't say why I've
made the wind blow soTimothy Yunoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1078441562563813212004-03-04T15:05:00.000-08:002004-03-04T15:08:59.483-08:00Sleepers, wake!Cassie Lewisnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1077387012446214532004-02-21T10:10:00.000-08:002004-02-21T10:12:53.186-08:00bad tempura: lemon sausage quesadilla
spirited away: contempt
half-time: half-time?
poetry: so are my clothes
sneaking in is okay: tell me when and where
are doing it too: who?
the lecture hasn't started: gentleman
vs. ginsberg: start your engines
reading: is thinkingdelnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1076455698854755212004-02-10T15:28:00.000-08:002004-02-10T15:30:45.106-08:00isswut
ridden
of thep
oemsss
goodern
some is
they all
delnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1076372603950488162004-02-09T16:23:00.000-08:002004-02-09T16:25:48.890-08:00i can't
git rid
of thepoem
ss
som
etimesthey
are all
toogooddelnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1073729157295625552004-01-10T02:05:00.000-08:002004-01-10T02:07:40.950-08:00Alive alive oCassie Lewisnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1073667743509765802004-01-09T09:02:00.000-08:002004-01-09T09:04:07.420-08:00a birdie
requires
a poetic
shipser
plastic
sickles
o’ the
knuckles
however
dimpled
your browser
your cloudsir
to the dropsy
to the dropsy
like a
blueser
delnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1073001048335746162004-01-01T15:50:00.000-08:002004-01-01T15:53:52.653-08:00Wild appertures, holes in
the knit
The fisherman casts a line across the gulf
Across the world the
lines sing
High tension wires vibrate at intense frequencies
The gold dust. Walls of gold
all dusty with ore.
Or the opposite intent, the quest to salvage
ore
Iron ore of life,
this rare bird in my handsCassie Lewisnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1072141067928766642003-12-22T16:57:00.000-08:002003-12-22T16:59:07.780-08:00snowCassie Lewisnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1071172706935313732003-12-11T11:58:00.000-08:002003-12-11T11:59:32.013-08:00internet ordnance
available wishes
ordnance installation
superfluous injury
unnecessary discharge
rugged glendelnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1071070150014887042003-12-10T07:29:00.000-08:002003-12-10T07:30:14.030-08:00The year unwinds all over the sofa
stretching its paws and
sleeping through trouble
The year has been a helicopter
a very noisy helicopter
flying haphazard through the grey nights
The year brought me closer to the ashtray of my past
(Repeat this line: 'The ashtray of my past')
than I ever wanted
or expected but it's almost over
and now there're the little ripples on the lake
and a cereal bowl Cassie Lewisnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1070910244596244012003-12-08T11:04:00.000-08:002003-12-08T11:05:06.403-08:00back to the same
put your old
forgetting of the
freakin smooch
into the
proper sources
the currency of
old damp mildewy
sewn signatures
in hearts of
happy faces and
game-playingdelnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-107056414077208702003-12-04T10:55:00.000-08:002003-12-04T10:56:37.436-08:00A foreign
language, a handbill
printed with an old
snapshot, a photo
collage. There can't
be any way
around it, only
through.Timothy Yunoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1070396027294098972003-12-02T12:13:00.000-08:002003-12-02T12:14:41.170-08:00Religion's for kneeling
it's for emergencies
big fat queries sent skyward
( : this is why such and such's
happening to so and so's...)
panic attacks and offering baskets
hard little wafers on a tray. Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02859712483159397343noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1070342054174148252003-12-01T21:14:00.000-08:002003-12-01T21:15:44.810-08:00The glories of light
light refracted off the imagination
is that what religion's for?
A candle in the soul, to see by, in the dark dark soul.
I take something beautiful, a raw joy,
and I place it on a makeshift alter, okay my desk,
okay by the bed, is what religion's for,
but there aren't any words for it,
they will vanish before I write them,
or end in war.Cassie Lewisnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1070341848988371182003-12-01T21:10:00.000-08:002003-12-01T21:11:42.093-08:00The weather is in my shoe
it is in my hair
Rain, like a corny song,
is everywhere.Cassie Lewisnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1069453014717617792003-11-21T14:16:00.000-08:002003-11-21T14:17:33.140-08:00the weather is blue
like a blue drinkdelnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1069346037791044462003-11-20T08:33:00.000-08:002003-11-20T08:34:34.326-08:00due to a fish blizzarddelnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1069265276518098402003-11-19T10:07:00.000-08:002003-11-19T10:08:46.436-08:00Get involved in the
Beast Wars.
Warp your engines.delnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1069174088205457412003-11-18T08:48:00.000-08:002003-11-18T08:48:41.983-08:00There is no enterprise
but the toy
that is the blue pen.delnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1068848210014643912003-11-14T14:16:00.000-08:002003-11-14T14:17:37.793-08:00take a snig at zees
pwe-RRR motos
a manbone snub
is bored along
a sideburn mole
dingdang fanciful
stuff here hun (snort)
hose surgeon wid
mittens clapped
and blanchdelnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1068577114873942532003-11-11T10:58:00.000-08:002003-11-11T10:58:59.466-08:00take a dig at this
pre-WW II photo
an unknown sub
is moored along
side a coal-burn
ing financial off
icer where short
nose sturgeon are
knitting scrapped
anchorsdelnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1068495360096362932003-11-10T12:16:00.000-08:002003-11-10T12:16:24.060-08:00aluminum boat using the
salmon, sturgeon, steelhead
a variety of water types
favorite streams eclectic
bait and most experienced
captains of moored islands
provide you with anglers
for you and your child
dial reservations for the
following morning hours
when it’s a deep ocean
just you and your child
delnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1068144032824285112003-11-06T10:40:00.000-08:002003-11-06T10:50:20.670-08:00I loved hearing fish stories
where neither the seas nor the fish
are relaxing on every piece of fish equipment
I loved the sound of crickets at night
and how every day produced a memorable moment
full of empty hours with no fish
in your favorite fishing spot when you hear a
faint lovely whirl and your fishing rod screams
as the fish takes a nosedive into the deep
I loved the fish very much anddelnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1067456932418782142003-10-29T11:48:00.000-08:002003-10-29T15:37:29.216-08:00no! look, these are so ugly
chicken and shrimp curry
(hurry)
I loved hearing stories about
when everything was
going
well
I didn’t go overboard on
portions nor fish
I was in the best shape
of my life
p.s. people get ready
and do some blogdelnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1066855737212749242003-10-22T13:48:00.000-07:002003-10-22T13:49:54.356-07:00a rather good-looking chap
wearing a fetching silk scarf
he prayed just before going onstage
and said apologetically in English
“it was a gorgeous red, that scarf”
actually wrapped around your neck and
dressed in a tiara and navy evening gown
sauntering over to the Wurlitzer
your arms while you danced and
my loose ends popped out on my headdelnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1066433775601990992003-10-17T16:36:00.000-07:002003-10-17T16:36:15.300-07:00malaise toupees
enough volume
to blow me off
the lightning
the film stock
in their polyester
double
knit
malaise toupees
& the nipple-suckling &
the
dark
stinky
daydreaming
p.s. I wanted
a Santa Clause movie
delnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1066363620891647642003-10-16T20:58:00.000-07:002003-10-16T21:07:00.976-07:00Swish! Went the scarf as he sauntered off,
the coat held between clenched fingers,
paper sack of fruit and books splitting with each step.
He has to pay bills, including alimony, tonight,
moonlight and roses after.
Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02859712483159397343noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1066347576272241402003-10-16T16:39:00.000-07:002003-10-16T16:39:35.910-07:00It's hard to be behind the
longball on that one.
Turn tail or
don't be late.
I was wearing two
sweaters and a jacket
made out of hate.Timothy Yunoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1066147548414217842003-10-14T09:05:00.000-07:002003-10-14T09:05:48.556-07:00it wants to be seen
move rocks and
turn deer on
various investigators
have suggested
starting btwn the
hind legsdelnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1065721786185089292003-10-09T10:49:00.000-07:002003-10-09T10:49:45.790-07:00keeping just one hop ahead
of the skin of the hind rocks
a cross between a tiny horse
and a small deer keeping
just one hop in the swampdelnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1065709693595628642003-10-09T07:28:00.000-07:002003-10-09T07:29:58.810-07:00Repetition of words: is this effect
a mantra, a refrain
or a temporal loop? Sometimes
it's hard to tell.
In any case it's soothing and provides
operatic thunder.Cassie Lewisnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1065595542901095522003-10-07T23:45:00.000-07:002003-10-07T23:45:42.610-07:00Survival is a matter of
opinion I guess.
There's a point where a late
night is an early day--am
I there yet. Am
I repeating everything
that's already repeated.Timothy Yunoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1065557196172182192003-10-07T13:06:00.000-07:002003-10-07T13:06:36.250-07:00The waitress stabbed me
but I survived.
When do repetitions
become redundant?delnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1065465038746943022003-10-06T11:30:00.000-07:002003-10-06T11:30:38.480-07:00that’s a pretty clever interpretation
of a classic poem
several years ago when I heard you
were making a classic poem
reading lawyer fiction might require
several different strategies
but I cannot start a poem on a
crummy redneck shack
to use a bigger screen is a delightful
and extremeley droll classic poem
delnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1064963036202537542003-09-30T16:03:00.000-07:002003-09-30T16:03:56.326-07:00one, a crow,
thought, no,
it was instinct,
enough to crowd out
the others
black wings like
fans beating
why do birds capture
our imagination
their private lives
a closed society
their deaths so
hidden
from view
(think of the flocks!)
witnessing it takes
our breath away
Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02859712483159397343noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1064936846321388642003-09-30T08:47:00.000-07:002003-09-30T08:47:25.843-07:00with a beach umbrella
for the eagles and star
lings
several different crusts
conjured the gulls and sand
pipers
two grabbed plastic
carrier bags like in
rock and fire tragedies
poetry like the crummy
gulfs and the birdgroves
full of lemon bulldozersdelnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1064904896580388562003-09-29T23:54:00.000-07:002003-09-30T01:43:05.136-07:00'bombs made of sugar'
The world at dusk, tinder box
of dreams.
Lemons//make lemonade//
dream.
The gulls lower themselves to snatch
bread crusts
The bemused crowd
cheers on the soldiers
Is there light//
a tunnel//
This day more powerful than the wildest river
Cassie Lewisnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1064873666002078802003-09-29T15:14:00.000-07:002003-09-29T15:14:25.970-07:00they were freshly killed
which gave them good dinners
to be enamored of the
good musk the life is seeking
crane, tortoise, deer, and pine
visible manifestations of
the no-good edible and
the mirage in Libya
your cousins are heirs to
my meager fortune
because I write good cookies
delnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-106486213657806322003-09-29T12:02:00.000-07:002003-09-29T12:02:16.680-07:00The mowing sound sweeps
back and forth across the window.
We struggle inside with printed
letters curved and slanted onto
the page, these sounds like cats
crying or wood breaking.Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02859712483159397343noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1064822454384263072003-09-29T01:00:00.000-07:002003-09-29T01:02:22.490-07:00It's good
fortune -- drawing us to this table
shared meal of amber light
as if sound
were visible
Tributes
Tributaries is all forsaken
The river of song
But not one song
Thousands
Cassie Lewisnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1064813824325345202003-09-28T22:37:00.000-07:002003-09-28T22:38:47.900-07:00Deer at the edge of the waking mind
Symbols of nothing but themselves, hunted
But we're hunting ourselves
in slow trucks with screeching tires
Gun rack poised
We're hunting our true selves down Cassie Lewisnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1064778618045660362003-09-28T12:50:00.000-07:002003-09-28T12:50:18.273-07:00Then those deer appeared the dark
tailing their shining hooves
out of nowhere, my dear!
It could've been a wreck the
way they skimmed the highway
touch down by the wall between
oncoming and ongoing
tawny, quivering, alive.Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02859712483159397343noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1064636780972072442003-09-26T21:26:00.000-07:002003-09-26T21:29:35.846-07:00To write nonstop like driving through darkness until you're
streaming light
dragging text behind you so
fast it sees starsCassie Lewisnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1064607366852831062003-09-26T13:16:00.000-07:002003-09-26T13:17:12.260-07:00smouldering clouds
mountains turn to
dust and wrack
sapphires wrenched
from shore-girl’s hair
burn-tumbled ex
pressive as a blast
blows cool head clear
like steepy valleys
& the elves buried in
sky-neighbouring
drifts
all too often missing
in modern poetry
delnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1064496391644537772003-09-25T06:26:00.000-07:002003-09-25T06:28:33.016-07:00Poet-tree!
Poet -tri!
Poet-tra!
Poet-trahahahahi
I like to go a wandering
along the mountain track
and as I go like to sing
The poems in my knapsack.Cassie Lewisnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1064442699028164362003-09-24T15:31:00.000-07:002003-09-24T15:31:38.783-07:00poetry left to
mankind are
doomed from
the moment of
grace in which
the “shambling
camels” refer
ence the doomwri
ting then it
dawns on us
even if it means
the digital revo
lution hasgiven
poetry an
another chance
delnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1064355189257706052003-09-23T15:13:00.000-07:002003-09-23T15:13:27.680-07:00poetry is subsumed by
those bulk ideas from
drama, dance, and
graphic arts
publish your fiction,
nonfiction, love becomes
a delicate melding of
poetry and written text
conforms approximately
with unabated techno
fetishism in all
fields of artdelnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1064245713032173482003-09-22T08:48:00.000-07:002003-09-22T08:48:32.543-07:00a lord in my yard
I never made but
one prayer to the
fifteen pink flamingos
in all their glory
and when I opened
the front door
the jungle hippie
didn’t invade my privacy
I was in the kitchen
on the ground floor
with the metamorphosis
and the cleansing
delnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1064004908386865132003-09-19T13:55:00.000-07:002003-09-19T13:55:07.800-07:00That's hell on
wheels for those of you
not paying heed.
There's a loud
tree in my yard. When
the branch fell it caught
in a lower branch
and stayed--is it
alive or dead?Timothy Yunoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1063991858678046132003-09-19T10:17:00.000-07:002003-09-19T10:17:38.626-07:00well there was the tree falling
for one individual this situation
falls in a forest occasionally
to set a groove
your answer will probably be
the essence of the heart
even if this is only a fringe element
a continuing story we share
told like waves washing on a beach
and please look at the birds
I’m caught in a silent treehouse
delnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1062022867324862102003-08-27T15:21:00.000-07:002003-08-27T15:21:25.913-07:00I understand the
concept of retreat.
Maybe he'd had a
one too many drink.delnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1061979633773579082003-08-27T03:20:00.001-07:002003-08-27T03:21:56.946-07:00Drama
*
Re-enacted drama
*
A Passion Play
*
Plus!
If the tree falls in the forest
and there are noisy bulldozers
and so nobody hears the tree fall
is the tree falling?
Cassie Lewisnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1061979633600997452003-08-27T03:20:00.000-07:002003-08-27T03:22:49.093-07:00Unreality is drama enough.Cassie Lewisnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1061855299915470042003-08-25T16:48:00.000-07:002003-08-25T16:48:19.796-07:00HelLOthere is
such Athing
as REAL DRAMAdelnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1061327111044594362003-08-19T14:05:00.000-07:002003-08-19T14:06:04.483-07:00where are
snowprints
when there
are noprints
there’s that
drunkle
stay late
halyard
[[[halyard
alewife
no way
dr-
alewaiting
cale
wwh
ssn]]]
where’re
snowpaws
when
there’re
nopaws?delnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1061244230711698082003-08-18T15:03:00.000-07:002003-08-18T15:03:50.620-07:00There are no footprints
when there is no snow.
There's that whole yard
of ale, waiting
to be drunk last night.
Carry on.Timothy Yunoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1061062872871382652003-08-16T12:41:00.000-07:002003-08-16T12:42:46.116-07:00I can hear my feet shuffling through the
talcum powder on the floor.
Leaving footprints.
I saw that in a movie once.
This is not like the movie.Cassie Lewisnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1060972022480422622003-08-15T11:27:00.000-07:002003-08-15T11:27:01.793-07:00This singing bird clock
can't help itself
grooving like ice
on the trill
Who isn't going to
call for more when
ever it comes
down to itTimothy Yunoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1060730523267293152003-08-12T16:22:00.000-07:002003-08-12T16:22:03.233-07:00the pieces
of my body
that are
floating
cry
ogenic
ally when
these red
sheets are
willed
to the next
execut
ive ass
ist
ant
i want the
humor
to be postmortem
delnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1060730216848682132003-08-12T16:16:00.000-07:002003-08-12T16:16:56.830-07:00a feat
a wriggled
nerve of
hurt
read:
winnowing
that thing
that has been
something
I don’t want
plus you cheat
damn you
delnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1060197733618210262003-08-06T12:22:00.000-07:002003-08-06T12:22:13.600-07:00each wiggle
of a nerd
is hurting
people
winnowing
that thing
from bean
to sum
I don't mind
if you cheat
cheat
cheating feetTimothy Yunoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1060125829631170312003-08-05T16:23:00.000-07:002003-08-05T16:23:49.580-07:00each pixel
of a bird
tells a story
of a people
windowing
they sing
and lean
and come
to mind
in the street
chiming
chiming out
the traffic stops
just a shade
each pixel
a heart
of light
a bird
coming
to mind
in the
window
delnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1060022567029137512003-08-04T11:42:00.000-07:002003-08-04T11:42:47.010-07:00Sing Song
The birds all chime out "sing"
The traffic stops and people lean out
their windows to sing
A song sounds so perfect in my mind
I want to imitate it aloud in the shower, in the street
A song transforms the street
It's the same now just a shade brighter
Each pixel stares out of its heart of light
and sings
Cassie Lewisnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1059769672476159362003-08-01T13:27:00.000-07:002003-08-01T13:31:35.746-07:0015 minutes and
the steps will be done then
you can step up and
enter without ringing
tile faced
sad spaced
grout and shout
but first check the mailbox
for letters
words
whole sentences
before going inJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02859712483159397343noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5306829.post-1059614030543766232003-07-30T18:13:00.000-07:002003-07-30T18:13:50.516-07:00Hey you feed me
with your funny mouth
ear-waggle toothpick
upside brown
that's what the dog in the walker saidTimothy Yunoreply@blogger.com