Dash something off and move on to the things that need to be done… ———————— In the arms of the ocean Being all trued Being seen for what one is In entirety Loss of keys and loss of clues Recovery and stumbles Jabbering among the apes nearby Loss of methodical stillness Loss of balance among […]
Join me in protest! The first of every month! http://bit.ly/23Njetz Sidewalk Chalk and Revolution! ————— DREAMING OF DEMONOID PICOTANT Demonoid picotent is sleeping with the devil Demonoid of the last outer outpost Excuse that interlude in the sleep of the all, the trialogues of damnation, and fuck you sir. Of all the smiles and then […]
Working with the flow of words Seeking my faery guides Wondering if she is the Demonoid Demon in appearance only . Not in substance . Repeating series of We All the Small Ones Loving life with growing fervor Seeking the methods of repairing the Earth Seeking the methods of connecting and rising Flowing through the […]
INTRODUCTION A new poem, which I have a few others of which the like (sort of), and thus to be treated, there and then and thence, as it were as if were a work of the beginnings of a new manuscript. But how to recollect and recoil them all together? How to keep ever writing […]
Some structure fell into your frame of reference Driven to be something other than nothing Needing an excuse A way to go through with it Too tired to unwind Some dextromethorphan to make the day shake up What’s available . Dogs and cats and dogs and cats and dogs and cats Sliding in to meet […]
Demonoid Picotent walked through Faeryland He sought aid for a particular artist or writer To make his work strike with all potency Encountering the Dreamweavers, he spoke with them They were alarmed by his demon-like appearance But he assured them that he was in fact a demonoid of Earth, and no actual demon They had […]
Demonoid walked down to the river bank Cutting across, his feet on air He stole up on a protest Surprised to see, they wheeled “Of what are thoust making all this racket,” he inquired Angry to be so rudely interrupted, the protest replied: “We protest the suppression of the ethereality, The ideas of the people, […]
A poem featuring a ‘behind the scenes’ (in the sense used in Neil Gaiman’s American Gods) journey and a sphinx from my book Synaptic Syntactic.