Posts Tagged ‘poem’

Be Thy Name

December 3, 2013

nxt

 

The stones, the sticks.

 

The arrows. The slings.

 

Outrageous.

 

Fortune.

 

Be thy name.

 

And I shall sing once more.

fmm2

An Eloquent Regret

October 25, 2013

rs

I wish my words were stronger

I wish yours were for me

I wish you’d held on longer

And I wish I’d set you free

But wishes are just poetry

An eloquent regret

And the future is unwritten,

Another past to happen yet

mtchmid

We all lose.

September 29, 2013

rs

I don’t write love songs.

The world has enough of those.

I do write about love, but only in the perspective of loss.

Because that’s universal.

We all lose.

But not everyone loves.

cliche

This isn’t you.

September 20, 2013

rs

Ambiguous little words.

Closed to accomplice, open to interpretation.

Lost in vanity.

Vague messages on a grander scale.

Born after one passing, left in another wake altogether.

This isn’t you.

This is an altogether different song.

This is me.

And my ambiguous little words.

Often overheard, rarely understood.

newestrings2

Do You Remember…?

September 18, 2013

rs

Do you remember?

How it felt?

I do.

Every inch.

Every drop of sweat.

Every scrunched eyebrow, moan, curse and scream.

I remember it all.

And I remember why it mattered.

These are but moments, rife for nostalgia.

But I remember, nonetheless.

newestrings2

snow

August 24, 2013

rogue

Once upon a time, the broadcast day ended.

Once upon a time, we could sleep without talking.

Snow is just a season’s mark now.

Sleep is but a mode.

Our world.

So immersed.

So immediate.

So apparent.

Living, breathing, pulsating snapshots of a past we cannot ignore—

A present so lost in posture and presentation.

The future, merely a meme.

Moments of solace in assumption

Until our world comes back around again.

We can try to hide—

Try to pull the covers up over our head…

But we talk in our sleep.

Always there.

Always on.

Our world.

So accessible.

So obvious.

So inadvertently tragic.

tv

I Dunno

August 14, 2013

rs

It came on by mistake.

I thought I had deleted it.

but for the first time since,

I let it play—

I let it go.

And for the first time since,

I dunno…

I remembered how I felt the first time I heard it.

newestrings2

It doesn’t change a thing, because we do indeed know.

But I smiled anyway.

For the past.

I smiled for the hope.

For the chances taken.

It changes nothing.

But I smiled nonetheless.

smoke

Moving Words: Bukowski Edition

December 2, 2009

If you know me, or have ever read my novel, you know how I feel about Bukowski.

His work was as much a character in Rorschach’s Ribs as Escher Smallwater or Phil Callaway.

Today, moreso than most, has felt like the embodiment of one of his greatest poems, the Shoelace.

So, in honor of my slow ride to the madhouse, let the moving words move you.

Video by some guy named Jason (http://www.youtube.com/user/myspace.com/blackholestudios)

And here’s the original poem, in case you’ve never read it:

The Shoelace

a woman, a
tire that’s flat, a
disease, a
desire: fears in front of you,
fears that hold so still
you can study them
like pieces on a
chessboard…
it’s not the large things that
send a man to the
madhouse. death he’s ready for, or
murder, incest, robbery, fire, flood…
no, it’s the continuing series of small tragedies
that send a man to the
madhouse…
not the death of his love
but a shoelace that snaps
with no time left …
The dread of life
is that swarm of trivialities
that can kill quicker than cancer
and which are always there –
licence plates or taxes
or expired driver’s license,
or hiring or firing,
doing it or having it done to you, or
roaches or flies or a
broken hook on a
screen, or out of gas
or too much gas,
the sink’s stopped-up, the landlord’s drunk,
the president doesn’t care and the governor’s
crazy.
lightswitch broken, mattress like a
porcupine;
$105 for a tune-up, carburetor and fuel pump at
sears roebuck;
and the phone bill’s up and the, market’s
down
and the toilet chain is
broken,
and the light has burned out –
the hall light, the front light, the back light,
the inner light; it’s
darker than hell
and twice as
expensive.
then there’s always crabs and ingrown toenails
and people who insist they’re
your friends;
there’s always that and worse;
leaky faucet, christ and christmas;
blue salami, 9 day rains,
50 cent avocados
and purple
liverwurst.

or making it
as a waitress at norm’s on the split shift,
or as an emptier of
bedpans,
or as a carwash or a busboy
or a stealer of old lady’s purses
leaving them screaming on the sidewalks
with broken arms at the age of 80.

suddenly
2 red lights in your rear view mirror
and blood in your
underwear;
toothache, and $979 for a bridge
$300 for a gold
tooth,
and china and russia and america, and
long hair and short hair and no
hair, and beards and no
faces, and plenty of zigzag but no
pot, except maybe one to piss in
and the other one around your
gut.

with each broken shoelace
out of one hundred broken shoelaces,
one man, one woman, one
thing
enters a
madhouse.

so be careful
when you
bend over.

Me and Ole’ Honest Abe? We’ve Got History…

October 9, 2009

abe

He lead our country through civil war. He is the great emancipator, and considered the greatest American President by historians.

And now, 200 years after his birth, he is a (Gothic/Americana) rock star.

In honor of Abraham Lincoln’s 200th birthday, my band, Strawfoot, has taken Lincoln’s words and turned them into a dark song about a man slowly going mad.

Lincoln was a complicated man, he fought a lot of demons. He was also a phenomenal poet.

One of his poems in particular, But Here’s an Object More of Dread really jumped out at me. It was simultaneously ominous and beautiful. It was perfect for Strawfoot.

But Here’s an Object More of Dread was written by Lincoln in 1846, upon returning to his childhood home.

In a letter to close friend, William Johnston, Lincoln wrote:

abe2abe3Included in the letter was the poem But Here’s an Object More of Dread. This being his 200th birthday, it seemed only fitting to bring his poem to life, and put it on our upcoming CD, How We Prospered.

Here it is…I hope we did it justice…the video is just a bunch of our promo shots thrown together to accompany the music…all of the band photography was taken by Marshall Gibson…He’s one of the best at what he does…

I’m no film maker…so if you can do better, please, by all means have at it…we’ll even email you the MP3…

Our CD will be available Halloween.

sfpstr