Some SOCs

Stream Of Consciousness

No hablo espanol no italiano, either but what the heck: obligato messo forte crescendo accelerando rio grande con boca loca my mouth finds an extension in my fingers here, out of control familial ties loosen with generations grandparents early 20th century- three generations or more per structure Victorian houses influenza wiped out half a generation on my mother's father's side in ...what...191_ Let the pull have its way I say unwanted advice from the peanut gallery but I know family scattered love hangs on, but only via the ethers in our minds rarely enough our words rarer still via hugs, sharing geographic space
we live on the smell of an oily rag
good line
my advice is tempered pulled back rearranged disturbed
by the explanations the details the complications
easy to give abstract advice isn't it?
when you don't know the people, their quirks and
circumstances to an individual

words notions expectations longings heartache hurt
"betrayal" change of heart misplaced promises forgotten
feelings new elements superceding we cling to what we
can reach and tend to let go of what is gone as seems
right especially when the old feelings had a tentative
basis or two

how needy we can be
she proves that to me
and this helps me to see
that love like that cannot be free

the she is superceded by another now
one who allows me to be me
despite more dire straits
makes no demands
love is without strings
the way it should be

photosaic cryptographic sensationaless clariscurity
neorealismless mal canto song sung mauve at my back
door man sliding indoors in my face as i take out the
trash colliding with my wife her face lights up to see
him there ignoring my stare I wander off fall crooked
sideways awkward collision to mesh with muck of
halffrozen days sludge and slime fine dine
in style of bowery dumpsters and alley cats flea ridden
and skin like cellophane stretched to pokable thinness
sewer grates beckon with scottish mist on heathered
moors long forgotten and Whirlpool box invites like wee
cottage on the s-curve high over the loch

Tom Coleman ( tomcoleman, May 4, 2001 12:35:24 PM )

verily merrily all the days of heaven replay forthwith
on scratchy skipping warped and wobbly phono soundtrack
with dull grinding needle and stretchy slippy beltdrive
what were clear visions of warm comfy days and cool
ponds green grass under my skin then warped and twisted
into new stomach wrenching twist of collision of
someones tortured past with my fabled future just as it
was envisioned as eden in gauzy glory it is dispelled
and replaced by steel doors clanking and gongs of
broken brass struck by nine pound hammers not to be
left alone paying for the sins of some unknown warped
conniving jackass child abandoner as I let myself be
seduced by succulent words of praise but soon it
devolves into slimy ssadistic sick spray of bullets of
blaspheme carrying my developing demons high over my
hopes pounding pounding pummeling plastering
pulchitrude piss-ant view of commiseration because
casual friendship is seen as promise of forever in
screwed view feverdream schemed and lied to by clanging
semiconsciousness driven south by dredged-up memories
unrelated to the US I thought was real and now is brown
water and ochre/green milk afloat with cockroaches and
sewer rats unnumbered unbelievable senseless screams of
passion having nothing to do with what I brung

Tom Coleman ( tomcoleman, May 4, 2001 12:48:02 PM )

now i see my way clear of the sludge she brung to the
other that came before, the dream that formed behind
the tentflap while through the thin walls jealous ears
pierced and plotted and perfected schemes of mauling
dreams plotting picking scabs and seizing on weakness
while others involved sense the undelying plot but know
no strength of self to resist and assist the weak-kneed

Tom Coleman ( tomcoleman, May 4, 2001 1:17:06 PM )

entwined ill-defined confused counter cross-stitched
hatched thatched
mismatched emotional see-saw ride takes pride and
tosses it aside
grabs a ring on the merry go round as the calliope
grinds and
chatters three ring circus and the ringmaster loses his
mind

Byron Keats Yeats Shelley Mary Shelley frankenstein
Mummmy Dadaism NADA NASA as far as the moon but no
farther- are we stuck on this rock until we finish
poisoning overflowing sterilizing de-ozoning
greenhousing stripmining clearcutting slash-and-burning
deoxygenating dehabitating [playing fast and loose with
English] and/or blowing to Kingdom Come and
necessitating hoping the kingdom comes for some at
least..
© 2001 trcoleman.geo@yahoo.com

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