Category: Penman Lounge

Breathing life into life
The carnival invades a small town
Lighting up the sky from afar
Cheap thrills
Dirty folded dollar bills
Rides spin circles in the
Tattooed operators eye
Grinding wheels upon the axis
Merciless kewpie dolls
Shameless and tactless
All filling the night with odorous sound
Screams pleading stop-but keep on going
Bleeding lights born and aborted
Blink on and off
Leaving remnants in the wake
And kewpie dolls on dressers…

You
shop status
You
the affluent mall goer
You
who stores pop up for
You
brandish logos across your breasts and butts
You
So much responsible for the paper chase
You
Are not me
You
The affluent mall goer
You
The living logo of status…

he was like the night
beginning and ending
with complete perfection
with no detection
of any repose
like the summer rain
that doesn’t know
the relief it brings
in and out of transparent
things
the sun
hides
waiting to rise
after he
and the night
are through
she
remembers
the hazy dance
and rides
the
transparent
transformation
into
day

Love
Fool’s Gold
Petty Pity
Heavy Jealousy
Heart holds pain like
Sponge in rain like
Memories of sane days that
Won’t go way cause
Different now it is but
Better than it was
Now falls down since
You’re living just because

Everything
Years of the good overshadowing the malice which was
Plentiful
No hugs at a time that my only solace was in rhymes
Credit
Is due to the few who convinced me that drugs, may be in the future
But as of right now, shouldn’t be my substance in use
Eye to eye
We saw when I had some of the rawest but still felt fraudulent
I gave it up because it felt nothing like the time we spent
On benches
Or floors in my room
Never yours
Or Pier 18 where we never contemplated jumping
But things change
Nothing mind altering
I’m at equilibrium when I think that I can fly away from all this
With one step
Off your roof, which I no longer have access to
So I’ll settle for my ledge
All it will take is one step, because my life will follow the rest
And I can’t soar unless I take a chance
I need to go cause I’m dying to live again
But I’m afraid the sentence will stop short and I’ll just be…
Yeah.
You had this way about you
Kept everything up, with the slightest of touch
Held all the fears back using all of your might
Made this anti-matter kid see stars in the city’s skyline
But now I’ve been left, just like I deserved
On a roller coaster that’s drop is so steep that it disappeared underground
In the middle but no where
In the box, but looks like the owner doesn’t want their lost to be found
I want to thank you
For a lot of things
But most importantly just making this alarm hold off from a ring
That was just bound to happen
Thanks for the words, the speechless moments
The tolerance of my nothingness, even despite its onus
I couldn’t have done it
I’m seeing that I can’t
Thank you for everything
No matter what happens next
Just recognize that it wasn’t in vain
I can’t help it
And you know that
It all would have turned out the same anyway

When dreams are kites floating in the sky
You grab the line and run to fly
As long as you try to catch the wind
And love yourself from deep within

Dreamers dream
Lovers sigh
Artists paint a picture of high
Singers sing
Players play
The world turns on everyday

We hardly know the questions
The answers are far away
We come so close
Enough to get burned
So much learned
So much learned

Catch the pieces of luck
As they fall away from the sky
As you grab the line of
Life’s kite…to fly

Sometimes you’re tired of standin’ alone
They point the finger
Sayin’ you’re the strong one

But you feel you need a heart to lean on
Look around the scene
If ya don’t smile…you’ll scream

Burnin’ out of
Time and luck
Walk the distance

Scream resistance
Scream resistance
Scream resistance

Your stomach lining’s burning
As the pages keep on turning
In your book of self-destruct.
The never ending cycle
Twists and turns
Whilst you stifle your screams aimed at your ego.
You are your only foe for the world still adores
Every inch of your perfection.
What a shame that the reflection you see is so distorted.
It has been reported that
You so elegantly purge, with those graceful fingers
To feel the surge of power you wish you possessed.
Those same fingers touched the ebony keys,
So very lightly, as though not touching them at all;
You would play such haunting melodies that lulled us to sleep.
Now those fingers slowly creep down you swan-like neck,
Not allowing even a speck of nutrition to enter your gut.
The bile arising seems to cut at your tender mouth,
As your hurt and pain comes flooding out,
And once again you are cleansed.

St Jude, oh set me free. I’m no lost soul, I still believe.
These problems stem from people’s lack of faith in me,
Not vice versa. And I will push further until another saint is re-assigned.
The only crime I’ve committed is jading my eyes.
As a multiple of sighs erupt I realize I’m sounding pretentious.
This is not my intentions, nor means of my path to forgiveness,
Oh I cannot confess anymore.
As I fall to the floor, I notice the faces are pleased;
I am another sacrifice brought to my knees,
Their proof they can sniff out a sinner, like winners at a race.
It’s written, as a psalm, all over their faces.
My rosary snaps as it’s thrust from my neck,
A move I am sure more done for effect.
And the beads separate and hide.
I watch them slide into cracks and disappear into the black,
And imagine Satan greeting them with a hungry manner.

Sunday I spent in the observance of silence
Recognizing how space manifests in absence
I subtracted many words and movement
from a daily arrangement – a rest

What can take place in an expanse is boundless
What I can feel on a Brooklyn rooftop lacking moonlight
is the shock of oxygen after life in a womb.

I can see how small we play
how inferior we convince ourselves to be
When we mimic the morphing of clouds
How great and divine is our capacity

I ask the urban ceiling to blind me tonight
to wash my eyes with the broad reflection of tempered street lights
muffling the hum of dramas and masquerades
An endless charade of conversation exacting how to do
and what to interact to whom we injure
and where to coerce a choked reality

What can we murder under the sky? What can we sculpt without textures and angles and dimensions of sight?
How complex a body is built to move and be moved
yet simple to witness majestic truth – time as space

May we not stop in a swamp of stagnation, but spread our intents as seed
to stretch and sprout the span of centuries
We suffocate under souvenirs and need to unfold contents
that fill up experience

I will let the lull of nothing kidnap me
I surrender to the extent of no extent
the parabolic points of infinity—a gong
an echo and perpetual flight into the depth
of absolute arrival to the tune of om
and I vibrate with perfect resonance when all is gone.