Sunday, January 3, 2010

Resolving Revolving Resolutions: A Revolution!

Stuck in the proverbial
hard rok candy place
not sure what is going to waste
throwing out the old
welcoming the new
wondering what the hex
became of you

formulate formiculite
these polymers get under
your skin
want to keep it all in
or let it go
let a new year begin

resolving
the revolving door
of returns
the cat came back
the very next day
only out for nanoseconds now
the sting of frieze
as frozen in time
these things become

still dream dreams of you
when you were my main
item on the menu
you were all that
to say what
ever happened to us
thought it was a given
it was not

looking back not ordered
on January's frosty order
Creme brule
was brutal
as chunks of butterscotch
or is it candied caramel
get swallowed
so as not to break my teeth

i did cut my teeth
with the first feed
and now i am independent
enough to know
why can't i let go?
some pleasure to mount
as each bit
tells me
how i really needed
to feast
but the beast
came knocking early

as sacrificial as the lambda
lying down with the hambone
here on the rug
as not to make a mess
the dog always does
move the treasure
to another venue
where he can hide
in the couch
ouch!
who put this here?
please toss it out

so what choice do we have
when it is time
say there is no couch
where to hide
and find
the seekers gain
gamers all
get your game on
who's to know
how much it is going to snow
today

yet yesterday breeds
recurring dreams
to wake up
smelling the coffee
of recurrence
why do you pop into my dreams now
like you didnt then
you thought maybe
it is time
to let
to takeout
to free
those repressed conditions
that didnt meet
the requirements
of the job

why would you build me up
buttercup
only to let me fall
from grace
a complete disgrace
a thing to be shunned
and driven from the garden
of earthly delights
are you from turkey or something?

my druthers
didnt play at all
no call for my regards
on broadway's
calling card
did you care if i had a say
no way
it wasnt ever going to go my way
so how could i do it my way
when you were blocking the door
which read
"one way...mine"?

so today you offer me
a girl's best friend
diamond dreams
of recreated worlds
drafters choice
of materials
marble topped and diamond studded
you sure got your
groove well rutted

these dreams i've had lately
last night to mention one
which stuck in my craw
like a hoe-daddy
reminded me of something
you may have forgot
me at the door way
that jambe
the builder rejected
that capstone that made
in heaven heave-hoed on my
collapsed dead body
as the earth moved too much
for keeping rooms
and houses that don't swagger
Jimney Cricket
what game was this
what child is this
who came to rest
in heaping mass
on the cutting room floor?

guess it was one for gamble
or the gipper
who i thought was really
gyping me out of gympsom
keeping me contracted out
looking for other bids
to take this biddy home
from the party

look back in mocked anger
because i always knew this would
happen
when you stood me up
emotionally for so long
now you want to build
a hotel?

what could you possibly do
to bring back those lost
and forgotten hearts
on the lonely highway
dirtbowl memories
once shiny and bright
gleaming like diamond dust
before the turned back time
glean in my eyes
had time to fade
to black

had to recreate new tomorrows
at the drawing board
again today
your sketches
so formula ready
but not your home made
handcraft
new walls
new windows
new doors
our stellarly improved home
must be from the ground up
where are the floors?

certainly you must be saying something
on the psychic channel
because I did not order
this dream
of bram stoker's
maybe what's left
of leftovers
like life
leftover from the burnishing
and tarnishing of existence
to rise like the phoenix
again
from pictographs to phonics
we merge the two worlds
don't we make joints for joists
50/50 draws
or is it
all yours
wrapped up in old New Year's beau ties
as I hide my belle river steamboat
and schemes of boblo island dreamboats
and three smokes fire
wrapping us in time honoured
positions of power
lost now
as those lost worlds
collide and collapse
all around us
too bad
we left
on such
a sour note
you can assimilate
but never actually
recreate time
mr piece
makepeace
makelove
makeit
last
little turtle
tribe designed her
(who may by now be in Miami)?

jj 03 01 2010

2 comments:

  1. I really like "what the hex became of you".

    ReplyDelete
  2. if this "poem" makes any sense...i'd be richer than you think...and then someday...if it really makes sense...what does that say about sense? Trying to make sense out of the curveball world i was tossed...hopefully your world is much more pragmatic and wholly sensible...lucky you! Time for natchos!~~~~~

    ReplyDelete