I like it. Casually profound; the best kind of profound. I get a Bukowski-type nonchalance from your writing that is quite delicious... especially in regards to the heavy-hitting/ironic aspects of the topics you choose to write about. There's also an air of enigma that interestingly balances everything. It's incredibly enjoyable-- not pretentious or heady or stiflingly intellectual & fruity.
My favorite prose: "like a smile over/the green green grass/like a grin bleeds/ripped silver
Your poems are, enigmatic. I liked this one, such chaos, could be love
Posted 9 Years Ago
9 Years Ago
Thanks, Marcus. That's what I was going for. I write in broad strokes and stuff, but all I want is.. read moreThanks, Marcus. That's what I was going for. I write in broad strokes and stuff, but all I want is traces of the bigness of the things. Enough to resonate from a distance, like a garbage truck at work a few blocks over.
those poor sardines left screaming - no wonder their eyes remain wide open, looking somewhat in shock. Shall we have them on toast then?
this keeps you right there on the page - this is why I am drawn to it - with the end of each stanza I am almost begging for the next - almost sexual in a way ...
I love it - especially with my confusion with the last four letters - well done - awesome XX
You're writing style is very different, but I love trying to get the meaning out of it. I feel the passion in your words which makes each and every one special and thrilling. Thanks for sharing
you capture that feeling of going down---poetically relaying the inner thoughts of those knowing that their lives are in a silver bird whose wings have been clipped...and the ground is beckoning.
you create suspense with these lines and don't let us down at the end.
kind of an allegory...but then...kind of what it is.
life is a series of crash landings.
Posted 9 Years Ago
9 Years Ago
based on an image I had of a bus gone awol, but in an almost cartoon way, wherein the wheels become .. read morebased on an image I had of a bus gone awol, but in an almost cartoon way, wherein the wheels become little rubber legs bent at the hub. Fascinated by mass transit of transients right now.
The suspense up until the end was thrilling. In my opinion, the last two stanzas are the highlight of the poem. I love "Headlight eyes, bus eyes, your eyes, lost and thrilling" really beautiful. Then of course the last line, clever. Well done.
Posted 9 Years Ago
9 Years Ago
Thanks, Brin. I don't know how I feel about it. Truth be told, I haven't written much since my las.. read moreThanks, Brin. I don't know how I feel about it. Truth be told, I haven't written much since my last entry here, for whatever reason. There's something there. I don't think it's finished. The idea of transience and buses is something that I think I want to ring like a facecloth. Anyway, thanks for the read. It's not my best stuff. Warm up pitches before a start, I figger.
Most writers go through that I don't necessarily know how I feel about it phase in pieces that they .. read moreMost writers go through that I don't necessarily know how I feel about it phase in pieces that they write. Particularly searching for any flaw or way to make it better. If it helps at all, I really thought it was good.
9 Years Ago
Oh, I know it's good ;)
Just not there yet. First drafts are disgusting smears, but you gott.. read moreOh, I know it's good ;)
Just not there yet. First drafts are disgusting smears, but you gotta squeeze 'em out. Kind of the best thing about this site.