The lineup thus far:
Really old shit:
This Is A Dream
Diet Sprite
"High heels and blue jeans"
Innocence Tossed:
Minivan
I Travel Lighter
"Once I thought I was in love"
No Tricks, No Traps, No Toothpaste
Five Days Nervous
AT&T
smash
"She lent me of her time"
"Everyone Is Talking About The Snow"
The Dream Of Spring
Eighty Proof
Cream the Eggs
Jean Arp
When I Smoke My Head
Unfinished Poem
Miss Take's Advent
Call this my expatriate period; stuff from Phoenix:
no more
Phoenix I
Phoenix II
Still Water
Fart
The New Virginity
The Alcohol I Drink
Valley of the Sun
Southbound
Post-Phoenix Obsession:
"No appetite, and very little sleep"
Spooky the Cat!
Disintegrates
Demons
I walk in shadowed days/Defined by emptiness:
"Are you gone."
I sent that one along
Twisted
Blisters
Waiting for the Bomb to Drop
"He's sullen, sullen, sullen"
Break Your Bone
Public Restroom
.
Links to others scattered about this site.
File under "Crap":
The First Letter of Stephen to the Amblerites
The Park
Death
Flung At Your Feet
Really old shit:
A bunch of twisted power,
Another passing hour...
You're trying to seem...
This is a dream.
You feel the time is passing,
All the troubles massing.
The sky appears to gleam...
This is a dream.
.
It's caffeine free, the can is green,
The liquid's crisp and clear,
On the can it may be seen,
"Very low sodium" here.
I cherish that "great lymon taste",
It trickles past my tongue,
An after-taste like toxic-waste,
Will greet me when it's done.
And so I praise my Diet Sprite,
And drink it day by day,
In my mind I know it's right,
Because it is a product of the Coca-Cola Company.
.
"High heels and blue jeans" 10/22/87
High heels and blue jeans,
Blouses and bracelets,
I'm going home.
Black boots and stockings,
Lipstick and liner,
I'm going home.
You've got your headache,
You never feel right,
You've got your system,
More than five days....
Tampons, temptation,
Fashion and face games,
I'm going home.
Bathrooms and boyfriends,
Make up don't break up,
I'm going home.
You need protection,
You have to feel right.
So I can't have you,
"No! Not tonight, Stuie!"
.
Innocence Tossed:
I am the man
Trapped behind a minivan.
I tap brake,
For God's sake...
Society lies.
Dog shit society,
Dog shit on sidewalk lies.
.
I travel lighter in these days
Without that stuff I left behind,
No more will I carry
All my brains and things.
Where are all my brains and things?
I left them scattered on the highway,
Like so many roadkills,
Pickings for the crows.
My brains and things I packed and packed,
I thought I had it all tied down.
Now they're near the median,
Eighteen wheelers crush each thought.
What went before: no perfect world,
I see it in the rearview mirror.
Now all my brains and things
Litter concrete gutters.
.
Once I thought I was in love,
And served poems to the girl.
She cooed and cooed just like a dove,
Doves are a type of pigeon.
They are picking at the garbage
And taking scraps from strangers;
Give them any piece of trash:
"Coo, coo."
Now I think I am in love,
Well? And who's to say?
But poems - to the birds!
None are fit for her table.
.
No Tricks, No Traps, No Toothpaste 12/07/90
no tricks, no traps, no toothpaste,
no paint upon the wall.
She's living like a flower,
a fragrance and a friend.
the days wore by so slowly,
She drifted to the door;
there was an old engagement
which She forgot to keep.
last night She had an aspirin,
Her mind was all in tow;
then a keen-attired man
came calling at Her door.
.
Five days nervous;
Thoughts turn,
Disappear,
No one thought for long;
No focus,
Focus everywhere.
Five days nervous;
Empty pit of stomach,
Pit of despair,
Vice-like cramp on stomach clamps,
No appetite,
No movement there.
Five days nervous;
Sleep is just a dream
I had once,
Long ago;
Now sleep flies from me,
Night's hours stretch,
Time elastic nightmare.
Five days nervous;
Hands tremble
Lighting cigarette,
Another cold sweat,
Every minute ticking past:
An eternity - I swear.
Five days nervous;
Clawing at my brain,
Second guessing,
Never sure . . . .
The possibilities are vague,
The conclusion is unclear.
.
General chaos,
Far away a phone was hung up,
The line dead,
My world disconnected.
That stupid clicking noise in my ear, thoughts rushed,
Finally I dropped the receiver,
And drifted into blackness.
.
Telephone hits wall,
Plastic smash-bash,
Springs and things -
Speakers to the floor.
Relationship hits wall -
Mental crash-bash,
Feelings and dealings
Littered on the floor.
Where's your point of impact? See the line from hand's release to wall, an imaginary dotted line suspended in mid-air. Grey mark on wall marks the spot; a greyness in your mind. A dotted line and years and months, telephone line from here to her - sudden disconnection.
Every single fucking distraction is like an explosion in my mind.
Read this out loud, and read it loud, and clear: "smash".
.
"She Lent Me Of Her Time" 1987?
she lent me of her time
i dreamt sub-urban dreams
she lay open my side
and blood rushed forth
I watched her body move
she felt it deep within
the music led her on
she swayed and moved away
at times i think of her
i remember fantasies
like carports houses fences
two children and a dog
.
"Everyone Is Talking About The Snow" 01/05/94
Everyone is talking about the snow,
The snow has fallen from heaven.
If the snow was the souls of the dead,
They would drift
Across the roads in purest white,
And we would curse the snow
Just the same,
And plow them into gray mounds
Turning black at the roadside.
A moment of silence for the fallen snow.
.
Lying in a sleepy meadow
Eyes catching twinkling stars,
The warm night air caresses,
I know that she is near.
Lightly, brush my hair back,
See her shining eyes above,
Reaching out to touch her face,
Her smile brings this bliss.
Her scent invigorates my soul,
The warmth of summer is her blood,
I open my eyes and across the field,
The cows are dreaming of factories.
.
Vodka - galore!
Heaven - a liquor store.
I am - so poor,
Bur I know I need some more
Ice cubes - amore
Don't worry - I'll pour.
A headache - so sore?
So what! - Just drink some more.
Find some way
To control.
Realize my goal...
Live a life in
Alcohol,
Realize my goal...
80 proof is my soul.
.
Cream the eggs, my lovely,
Cream the stinkin' eggs.
There's money o'er the ocean,
And soon I got to sail.
Your love was like a cursin',
A blackened evil curse.
So my heart won't be much mournin',
When soon I got to sail.
One day you were a fair one,
One day and too soon past,
In years I've paid my sorrows,
But soon I got to sail.
I hate the every sunrise,
I hate the sun that sets.
I drink away the e'ning hours,
'Cause soon I got to sail.
So cream the eggs, my lovely,
Cream the stinkin' eggs.
I'll drink this wretched barley broth,
And leave you rottin' here.
.
Jean Arp Pick a random date prior to 11/28/95
I had a dream I was at a party,
Jean Arp was there.
He arranged some cardboard cutouts,
Randomly.
I said, "Never enough."
He said, "I agree."
I was standing in my kitchen,
But it wasn't mine -
do you know what I mean?
A pipe was in the diskrack,
Still smoking....
I had to finish preparing
For guests - soon to arrive,
My hors d'oeuvres were randomly assembled,
Jean Arp said, "I agree."
.
When I Smoke My Head 01/12/90 (revised today - 12/06/97)
A sudden wish:
To smoke my head.
Grind into little bits,
Wrap in a Job,
Light with a match,
And smoke my head.
The inhalation would go down smooth,
Exhale a fine grey smoke,
The smell: overpowering,
The ashtray would quickly fill,
Or I should say: "It will,"
When I smoke my head.
.
I thought I'd tell you something
Full of meaning and deceit,
Like I love you now forever
Let me worship at your feet,
But I'd only want to use you,
Then make perfect my retreat,
So I'll preempt my benediction
.
These garbage bags keep reoccurring,
Drifting through a field of vision,
Far across the room
You feel the rhythm change....
Into a different existence.
Postmen and apothecaries
Gather 'round this corpse,
Hurry the oncoming week!!
Then again, a passing storm,
The rain runs gently over
Her body,
Hair in tangles.
She smiles,
Walks over the street,
And lifts a boot clad foot onto the sidewalk.
Glancing back over the path she followed,
She smiles once more.
She turns, to move,
Confronted by a damp plastic bag, black and full of trash.
.
The expatriate period; stuff from Phoenix:
When dinner was over
the demons would come
and he would drink.
There was no avoiding it.
In the dim light of his room,
the muffled sounds of the family
barely reaching through the walls,
or sometimes he would turn on the music;
sometimes just the chorus of a rain storm
pounding on the roof above,
he would pour the first shot.
Why shot glass?
Perhaps to make it more respectable;
tranfer the demon from decanter to cup,
almost religious.
The page stares back at me,
knowing that the future is here -
there is no more.
.
I was watching the trees sway,
and the fruit dance in the breeze,
I walked under blue skies,
and the sunshine warmed my skin,
I smelled the fragrance of flowers,
their scent danced in my nose,
The birds sang in the trees,
a soundtrack for the world,
As I wandered near and far
through life's many twists and turns,
I felt compromised
by the ash spewed bird.
.
It's like there's a film on everything,
Nothing is ever really clean;
There is sediment in a warm breeze,
And dirt laden drops in the cool rain.
The traffic is clouding the sky,
Imported water runs grey with filth,
Industry craps out its pollution,
We rise in ashes to face another day.
.
Somewhere a phone is ringing,
Somewhere a dog is drinking,
Somewhere a baby is spitting,
Somewhere a pie is baking.
Somewhere a pond is slowly freezing over in the dark of night,
Ice forming at the edges, advancing in unseen increments
across the still water.
.
He goes to pick up his mail
Flatuates in the PO
Waiting for the N bus
Flatuates at the stop
Sipping coffee in the open air
Flatuates at the cafe
Into the public rest room
He takes an evacuant
Settles down to read
Waiting for the evacuant
purge.
.
I found my virginity,
It was right where I left it,
In my bedroom in my parent's house,
While everyone was away.
A girl is there, nervous,
She insists on being nude,
As we venture into this new world;
Naked; shameless bold adventures.
Candles light the room,
The smell of wax is strong,
A sip of red wine, a kiss,
Then the awkward rubber sheath.
.
My brain it is demanding,
My stomach is expanding,
My liver's not commanding
The alcohol I drink.
The grocery stores are selling,
My wife I am not telling,
My urine is expelling
The alcohol I drink.
.
The roads are alive with traffic,
Breathing off exhaust fumes
Fumes rising in the heat of an afternoon.
100 degrees in the Valley of the Sun.
Sprinklers moisten the former desert,
Overripe citrus falling,
Rests in the wet, green grass;
Turning brown in the heat of the desert sun.
A haze rests above all,
Brown grey blanket under downtown city sky;
It adorns the rooftops and thickens mucous,
Trapped in the windless valley.
A cassette tape in its case is misshapen,
Negligently left in the sun;
Paint fades quickly,
Fades in the beating sun.
.
What percentage of your body weight is fat?
What time did you fall asleep last night?
When are you coming over for a game of crochet?
What's the name of that guy on the billboard just past exit 20 on route 7?
Southbound.
I shut the door and I couldn't hear any more questions.
I closed the door and I couldn't hear any more questions.
I repoeted the lines, so there can be no mistake:
Take this as a fact.
.
Post-Phoenix Obsession:
No appetite, and very little sleep,
I could get used to all the energy;
But things must go forward,
Or slip through my loose grip.
All the lessons of a lifetime,
I finally learned last week:
When it comes time to live
Think with your heart, not your brain.
.
Spooky is doing well;
There's birdseed out---
The bedroom window;
The window sill;
"He is in heaven...."
Thinks he owns the place.
Pretty Spooky!
.
As this disintegrates,
I bond with you: illicit.
Light flashes in field of vision
Around a decaying retinae.
Utter shock,
Called from an Irving.
So close at hand...
Then closer still.
Jumps the fence,
Frozen at the front corner.
As she looks out the window
Shaking her head: NO.
.
Late at night... the demons stir -
Stir crazy demons.
Give them a drink,
And put them all to bed.
.
I walk in shadowed days/Defined by emptiness:
Are you gone?
This is so exciting for you,
it has been a long time coming
Please don't touch.
I hope that you will be happy if you haven't gone,
perhaps you will come and see.
Best wishes.
.
I sent that one along. 05/02/2001
I sent that one along.
really funny
Probably getting better all the time
and I know that you are happy to be back
plans for liking the position better
.
finding the neighborhood
kids getting acquainted.
It hardly seems possible
We have been clobbered.
it has lasted forever.
.
In my mind the wind chimes,
The sidewalks grime
And there is too much time.
In my mind the sun grays,
A choking haze,
There are many days...
In my mind you’re twisting,
A distorted image of what I once thought you were.
.
My blistered hands are bleeding on
and on and on and on.
The comp keyboard is running red
and red and red and red.
And now the "Y" key is sticking in
the coagulated blood.
.
Waiting for the Bomb to Drop. 08/21/2001
Waiting for the bomb to drop sitting around my home,
Waiting for the bomb to drop waiting all alone.
I'd go get a bottle of vodka, but what would be the point?
Waiting for the bomb to blast me into the unknown.
Waiting for the bomb to drop because I know it could.
Waiting for the bomb to drop sometimes I wish it would.
I'd call you on the telephone but what would be the point?
.
"He's Sullen, Sullen, Sullen" 09/18/2001
He's sullen, sullen, sullen,
As he's dwelling, dwelling, dwelling,
On the things that he can't say and he can't do.
And he'll pass another day,
And his mind will slowly flay,
But sloughing off the old reveals the new.
It's blowing, blowing, blowing,
And it's colder, colder, colder,
As the light fails ever earlier each day.
But the autumn breeze refreshes,
As it sweeps between the meshes,
Of the things that he can't do and he can't say.
Leaves of fall are falling,
Geese on wing are calling,
The days grow short and the evenings dark.
And a chill pervades the air,
Frost is clinging everywhere,
Clinging and clutching at my heart.
.
Break your bone, break open your side,
Lay it all out there to see,
Catch the wind and harvest your mind.
Smashing into the flimsy wooden gate,
He sees the shards relocate into space,
Never knowing the blood is flowing,
The carpet will soon be stained,
And he falls through time and space
Onto the floor.
.
Crouched in the doorway, cradling his head, while the blood drips onto the carpet. The end.
.
I'm not one to piss
In someone else's urine,
I always flush the urinal
If the water isn't clear.
Sure, I'll sit on seats,
Without those paper liners,
Though I'm mildly disturbed
If the seat is kind of warm,
But still, I will not piss
In someone else's urine,
So I always flush the toilet
If the water isn't clear.
.
Promise me... promise me you'll do your best.
Promise me... promise me it won't rain tomorrow.
Promise me... promise me the sun will rise.
Promise me... promise me you'll do the taxes.
Before April 15th.
.
Five blind men playing in the wind,
The rain comes, washing.
Grey clouds turning black,
And the sun broke through – a rainbow,
That none of them could see.
.
And I would just like to mention:
One Night Stand is from 06/21/92 - Tossed.
Pet Store was written 12/12/96 - Phoenix.
"We munched and munched", an untitled poem, was written sometime in the early 1980s - Pre-Tossed even.
Encourage is from 04/14/94 - Tossed.
.
You may react on your way out of here:
Or say it to my face.
© 2002 Stephen M. Daly (for what it's worth)