posted on August 23, 2011 at 11:13 pm

marble skin turn human

beyond silver distance

entangled in the futures delerious network

the roots and tendrils of events come choking our life

oh my photosynthetic spirit which pulls in light and exhales love

my dark devil who lives in the earth deep in its fiery guts

from my mother i inherited this

from my father i inherited that

from an endless web of ancestors a random list of proclivities

from an incredible intake of impressions

i am a camera that films everything

i am a sensitive device recording unknown emotion

i am a  single point giving off my incessant transmission

a random poem generator

i sweep away the leaves of the unconscious

i collect debris found in our minds and i assemble patterns

from old words and conversations i refashion anew imaginary things

i mingle our dreams freely and with fingers of thought i shape music

my voice is an actor who speaks in your ear

my voice says you are living inside of this song

and a door opens up and youre walking on through

and the guitars seem to be saying something to you

oh….there….you can see this place you have been set down

and you must like it because you want to return over and over

i made that little door for you and i suggested that adventure

but that world was yours amigo

i am the architect of that dream

i move thru this world a bohemian trample

but every now and then some powerful man will genuflect to me a mere nobody

and his companions do say how is it that you hold yon minstrel in such regard

and he says ah but he is given me a door into a private world

there where a man may find rest i listen and am transported

you see this important task has fallen to me

i am staggering under the weight of this responsibility

i fight tooth and nail for all will dilute it or dispute it or loot it

the being of light and the dark devil duking it out in a room in my brain

the extreme twin opposites of good and evil act like a motor firing in my mind

the electricity in me is charged and refreshed

and the chemical intercourse between the synapses is rich and fruitful

some magical editor appears sorting it all out

a panel of guests assembles offering suggestions i can hear them so clearly

my muse so elusive yet generous even in her own absence

my mind is a trap catching all nature of things

this stuff i regurgitate comes like a telex on a reel

i bring it to you fresh from the sea of possibility

 

13 Responses to “container”

  1. avatar
    verdelay | 24 August 2011 at 12:19 am #

    And therein shoals of us teem.

    v

  2. avatar
    BROKEN TOYS AND HEROS | 24 August 2011 at 1:37 am #

    I am but a vessel for others to journey thru
    I am but a doorway for others to exit from
    I am but a sea serpent for others to tell tales about
    I am but an planner for others to live their lives by
    I am but a soldier for others to wage war alongside
    I am but a lighthouse for others to find their way
    I am but a sewer for others to dump whatever upon
    I am but a fallen leader for others to blame
    I am but a chef for others to feast from
    I am to blame for others point their fingers at
    I am to fear for man has hid openly about
    I am the way for this may be an ending
    I am the rain for others to cleanse their souls
    I am the one they used, for they cannot do it alone
    I am to tired to assist for they will seek another
    I am no longer available for they have all gone
    I am now alone for they left me to be
    I am broken for there is no glue to fix me
    I am leaving for they will never remember
    I am gone for no one said goodbye
    I am no more, they will just find
    another.

    AsAlways
    Darrin K.

    • avatar
      BROKEN TOYS AND HEROS | 24 August 2011 at 2:06 am #

      If this is not to personal, where are the wolfies and the human bunny? I so miss stories about them and a picture here or there. I, like you and many of us on here, are fathers and children are the lifeforce that we draw energy from…deep at the root…straight from the core
      I enjoyed the further adventures of those remarkable angels. Just as I like to share tales of my children, I miss hearing about yours. If this is way to personal- I apologize in advance and you can DELETE this comment if you chose. Your aura always burn the brightest for me when you shared your fatherhood. I truly miss that and wish you the very best.

      Darrin

      • avatar
        BROKEN TOYS AND HEROS | 24 August 2011 at 2:13 am #

        I am actually Bohemian by nationality and the language was spoken openly and freely at my grandparents home. My mother still speaks some when she converses with my aunt and when I wad a child I spoke and understood the language easily. I wish I continued the traditions. Oddly, my wife Laura is half Bohemian but her family did not use the language in their home.

  3. avatar
    . | 24 August 2011 at 2:54 am #

    they’re gathering again at the temple
    to escape their everyday lives, plain and simple
    how they want to feel a little more, the soft ripples
    that extend on and infinitely with eternal priniciples
    revealing to them that they should not be limited
    to just the world in front of them, but to look deeper
    and imagine a place that could be something bigger
    and better and more provocative than just the sinful
    and saintly realm of the mortals, somewhere in the middle
    between the known and the yearning, enter the time being
    a conduit, a catapult, a redirection, a curse, and a blessing

  4. avatar
    Burkley | 24 August 2011 at 8:55 am #

    lovely words, and it’s happened before, sidebar, but as I click over to the timebeing…an sk/church song comes up on the random – didn’t know where I was/jack frost…I’m a sucker for the syncronicity stuff.

    lurking but here/there

    bb

  5. avatar
    Once | 24 August 2011 at 10:14 am #

    Apropos, SK…

    ADVENTURES IN PURGATORY, Part 3

    i sleep again wishing for another career
    and slip into a scenario I’d never even imagined
    i have an entourage, music, choreography
    and I am naked
    and I can work that pole like no one else on earth
    for I am a stripper
    and it’s a competition
    and guess who wins $25,000?
    I’m free to clothe myself for the after party
    i do so in black straps strategically placed
    i’m insanely beautiful and I know it
    and there’s more than lust in the eyes of those around me
    there is awe
    even mum and dad are proud
    especially when my cell phone rings
    and I am invited to appear
    thank you mr leno, I say as I hang up
    it’s all happening now
    once completely bared, nothing scares me
    i’ll be myself and i’ll positively kill it
    i need to do a pepsi ad on ice
    the background girls twirl, and I spin and present
    done for the day, and I stay to skate
    and skate because i never learned the double axel
    i try it a couple times and fall
    but no matter, I’m cute now when I fall
    no one dares to be condescending
    i’m the it girl
    because I was once naked
    and someone tells me that The Church are at this same venue
    of course they don’t skate
    my assistant (cuz I have one now)
    carries me off the ice
    and I meet marty’s sparking eyes
    steve’s wasted, he says, but you ought to go see him
    so I do, and guess what, same ole pirate ship styled pub
    i shine more brightly than he does
    but he’s got the pills to share
    and we kiss
    there’s nothing more to do or say, just that
    and in every second of that, the fear of the ending
    screams
    and my brain waves align into just one thought
    goodbye goodbye goodbye goodbye
    i drop back onto my bed alone
    and I don’t know whether I am devastated or grateful
    or perhaps merely amused
    i still don’t know a day later
    but i gotta sharpen my skates.

  6. avatar
    Cocoamo | 24 August 2011 at 10:59 am #

    Your words are so incredibly beautiful, both in craft and meaning, woven like fine threads in a complex tapestry.

    Having to live up to your past accomplishments would be a heavy weight and we are sorry for your burden. You should be able to retire to some magical place where you could rest and just, well rest.

    That pesky make a living thing hovers unmercifully, eh?

    Know at least that we really do appreciate the door you have opened for us.

    Your Friend in Pennsylvania

  7. avatar
    Boriah | 24 August 2011 at 11:36 am #

    Hey Steve, new song (“ACROPOLIS”) and video posted, check it out:

    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9ilq48ASU6o

    Stay well.

    PD: the pic looks like the cover of Asphalt Eden…

  8. avatar
    Steven Krut | 24 August 2011 at 11:37 am #

    Interesting. Yeah, the creative process is fascinating. Yours may be especially fascinating. Thanks for all the doors into private worlds. I travel through them a lot and they enrich my life.

  9. avatar
    hellbound heart | 24 August 2011 at 8:28 pm #

    the sea of possibility……..how many of us are drifting on the becalmed sargasso waters, directionless….

  10. avatar
    TAZ | 1 September 2011 at 4:19 pm #

    sometimes knowing what we are is the hardest thing to come to grips with. we pretend we want to know the “why’s” or the “what-for’s” …but do we really? then what? are we reincarnations of our ancestors? are we regenerations of of arrested consciousness? is it up to me to “get it right this time?” or am I truly a free agent? with intuition comes despair. with prophesy– more questions. what is the utility of my plight in a multidimensional multi-verse? does one thought or one gesture tip the scales? is each road not taken part of the master plan? it seems there is certainty in the utter uncertaintly of these things. if it is not for me to know these things then at least allow me peace in not knowing, oh great creator.


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