Friday, June 24, 2005


I didn't have a poem of the week last week. Me so sorry. However, I promise to make it up to you by putting two down this week.

One of them I had just wrote less than half an hour ago and the other one I had an earlier version of a few weeks ago. Neither of them are complete, hence neither get titles yet (Although my faithful readers may know that titles and me sometimes... eh, we fight. I wrestle 'em like Jacob.).

But the version 2.1:

What our knowledge does for us
forcing us to rent space in the back of the bus
burying new skins in old soil of a naked nation
rent in two by reluctant emerging emancipation

Mileage in the shotgun
revolving to cause a Become
As old as a whore
As American as Ford's
Given all we could piece,
Nature, she wants more

Releasing the hounds
Civility in bonds
raging, making less with itself
than we could live without
For we have been in need
of all sons living freed
and prized in sheols we dug too deep

Knowing nothing but the hope
it won't be this time
Immersion in mercy
bathed in rouge liquid life

And Numero 2:

Amused by the disputed
turns and terms
spectacled images
spectator churns
the objects are clearer
but the focus is blurred


  1. "Knowing nothing but the hope
    it won't be this time
    Immersion in mercy
    bathed in rouge liquid life"

    That gave me the chills. I like that, that has to be the ending. Please don't add anymore to it. It's perfect.

    And though I love the flow and verbage used in numero dos...what was the underlying subject matter? I could apply that to civil war in Columbia or the time I argued my way to a higher grade in an English course.

  2. yeah, actually it was about that time you argued your way to a higher grade in english.

    i like the universals. i think you would know this 'bout me by now.

    and if you don't know me by now, you may never, never, never know me...

    yeah, that's def the drama money: rouge liquid life.


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