Colorless Green Ideas

This camera fascinates me. I got a camera for christmas, I want to take shots like this.

Every poem is just a guess I guess You write whatever is best and the old lines and edges of words and sounds fall in line Every poem takes alot of concentration and luck The thoughts and feelings within move around and shift inside words and sounds falling in line Some men are born underneath a lucky star Some women give birth beneath a lucky star The child coming forth into the hay the sheep goes bah the cow goes moo the horse goes neigh Dark riders and three wise men stopping on the side of the road for a cheeseburger and a shake Live for the chase

For Lord Oda Nobunaga

You do not look back anymore I go on to the endless future The walk down this road you have to believe ...

I pray you can still feel There will never be enough skin for this ink Save across my heart the words Do Not Revive Regardless of what they say even things I have seen in italian films I pray that you realize you were beauty to me and truth and love You blew like a wind through my life and helped me to see the eternal golden braid shimmering A tree turned in on itself the thing that hurts you always hurt me somehow I look over all I have done I find dust nothingness The words cut like a knife but I must speak them to myself until we both make them false A virgin mary falling over by herself A bolt of lightning to the uterus You're there you're alive That's enough Teresa. It was always enough. Fuck the caffeine. There was drama I could have avoided And Love That I could not But a life lived stretches limits sometimes to incoherence given me this moment where I can feel and see you again before we all go under ...

It's dark but warm and loving and safe A thin sheen covers my face and my eyes are closed I do not eat but I am not hungry I hear sound but mostly I float dreamlike waiting for the moment when I can tear the veil and the water rushes out I will hurt you. In a fledgling and eminently real way The kick inside I wear the face I had that was given to me by my parents it is the face that I wear before I was born In mind I can see south florida although I've never been I feel a warm wind touching the palm although I have no skin The sea level goes higher bit by bit The weather like two coiled springs moving back and forth against each other I imagine in the darkness a shark circling the dock And so I kick him in the teeth Again. And Again. And Again.

Have you ever heard a pop song when you have a fever or while seeing a beautiful sunset or at the moment you held someone that you loved for a long time and finally touched again? Have you ever heard a pop song at the moment of award when they had the coveted (insert trophy/medal/plaque here) to you and the crowd cheers? Have you ever heard a pop song playing in your mind when you just barely held the line between driving fast and losing control? Have you ever heard a pop song slickly polished and targeted to mass audiences when you stood in your front yard and watched your children play? Have you ever seen a pop star standing there at bandorrah waxing their board and paddling out to seven foot waves? Have you ever been to a concert where pop music was played and a mosh pit appeared in the center whirling away? Have you ever thought of a pop song echoing in the operating room when you were operating on someone's brain? Have you ever felt a...

I know you don't believe me But the thoughts they never leave me Push them down down down To the bottom of my sea (An incubus in grease paint) And there they lay until this very day Yes they've held their breath But now their violet eyes Slowly break the surface Why did I try, why did I try To watch that movie again? Why did I think that I was immune A little more now than then? Cause now their rusted fingernails Are scratching at my door The robot clowns are coming soon To sip lemonade in the afternoon But their faces change at the cusp of night To maniacal smiles and a mechanical bite. Just because you don't perceive it Doesn't mean that it's not really happening It's a painful thing when your antenna's High above the clouds Turn out the light, turn off the phone Turn off my mind , leave me alone But now the robot clowns are scratching At my bedroom door. [You see, what you have Mr. Larrabee is A garden variety psych...