[Untitled so far]
Fishing for a man's footsteps to pound out from a boy,
hands grasp behind my back, catching the spirit heartily



A Lie Guarded
I have washed myself
I make no excuses



Andante
Debasement
harboured latently
our unique brand
of imperiousness.
With ever demand -
forlorn resistance.
Perceptive probing
unerringly
unheedingly
sinister.



At Least It's Biodegradable
Grain of sand in my heart
irritates and builds a pearl.
Sometimes a seedling falls away
goes right to the toe,
dissolves, and strengthens bone tissues.
Healthy, right?

There's always the fear
the pearl will swell and grow,
filling and stopping the chambers.
My heart unable to beat it to death.
Who will kill whom first?



Living
Sometimes we can live a thousand years
In a single day.
And still life is not long enough.



The Beatles
"All the lonely people,
where do they all belong?"
Forty years later
Still no answer.




"Three Senryu For Addicts"

Serenity
The highway to work -
broken briefcase, strewn papers -
prayers under my feet

Courage
Empty white paper -
my pen's shadow meets the ink -
stepping away from heaven

Wisdom
Branches out of reach -
children jumping for apples -
I bow low for mine

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No Rain Underwater

There is no rain underwater;

Forty-seven days with no measurable rain;
today arrived a downpour. I thought
about my river's swollen banks and mudscoots,
fallen trees and sunken branches, a clutter
of rotting limbs beneath the murky flow.

I thought about my river and her fishes;
the stability of their unhatched roe, and
the twisted rope that dangles, sways
with the water's ebb and flow-
hanging from a poplar tree,
it waits as if it knows
the misery of the prisoner who sits
last in line on death row.



Our Humanity Is Under Attack

There is some kind of force trying to destroy our humanity.
Humans think, question.
They dream and envision.
Human beings love as well as hate…and the love is stronger.
Is it me or do others feel the shame when love is spoken for life?
Why is that?……why does that feeling exist?
Never feel ashamed to love any part of life or better yet the whole thing.
Never let them replace love and passion with a pill.
Never let anyone tell you its anything other than a soul keeping you alive.



Postmodernism

Tehre are teims wehn
the ccnpeots of lunagae
and the rateliy of wdros
edelus me.

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Woah, you're pretty good. I especially liked "Our Humanity Is Under Attack."

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Artistic Soul

You paint your pictures with powerful words and disjointed sounds.
Like whispers floating through a life not so strange.
I see you there, like my reflection, understanding.

It is an obsession, isn't it?

The need to conjure the spirits that plague our brain.
To release them out into the world of indifference.

Will we come to be or will we be changed?

Life is the media we use to create being.
Soundness and soundlessness keep our balance.
Away from over analytical reasoning.

A place to escape.




As A Porcelain Wrecking Ball

How many angel-headed hipsters can dance on the head of state?
It depends on the poet.
Ginsburg had it easy, when rock and roll songs
Were still written for dancing
No one writes rock for dancers, these days
I don’t think anyone remembers how to dance.

Sometimes, we remember to live without fear,
Sometimes, we remember that dancing is more than motion.
Mostly, these things sleep, sung off
By hate and acceptable angst. America is filled
With caricatures of ancient rebellion
And not very many rebels.
I think it takes more than beer and piercings,
Blue hair and pre-fab punk.
You can’t fight with directionless anger
And expect to get anywhere.

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Yeah uhm Zac.
You're poetry is freaking amazing!
Kaythanks. :]

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Thanks Sami!

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Certainly. ^_^

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In a world plagued by fakes and incessant static of human existance, you are the real fucking deal, my friend.

Thanks bro, just a random thought of mine.

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wow, love your poetry