Wednesday, May 4, 2011

10/24/06 Free Write



Trying to pour water from an empty basin.

Nothing.



The days has won and all I want to do is

stare into the street & be entertained.

Nothing.



Pushing again,

pushing until there is

something.

Nothing.



The wall that only angers.

Can’t climb it. Can’t destroy it.

Only waiting until it graces me by leaving me

nothing.


The Simple Truth



No matter what you’re going through it all comes down

To the three simple words:

Don’t give up.



It’s either that or lay on the ground,

become one with it.



There is an appeal to both.


Sound of the Street



And old man sitting on his porch,

rocking to and fro,

as he whistles and thinks

back to a time of music:

sweet, sweet music.



Of all night jives that would never end.

Of a band that was not of mere men,

but of gods.



The guitarist

summons rain.



The drummer

bangs the thunder.



The singer

unleashes a wind

that blows through one’s core.



The bass takes them all

and serves to a crowd

that is

thirsty.



They want to taste

what it is to be

one of these gods.



It moves through their body.



The pace

vicious;

The taste

delicious.



They are the storm

and they will

never die,

but the memory will



as the old man will rock, to and fro,

remembering when music

was a storm that made fed

the seeds of memory.


Think of This the Next Time You Read Your Friend's Blog



Do you think he or she put that

“,but I”

statement in there for you?



So you wouldn’t take offense and, in turn, post

about how your friends

(mainly 1)

are dicks?



At least you aren’t an acquaintance

of the ‘I have no friends” person.

Paul Pikutis