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i woke up one morning
and i was under water the water flowed easily through my nose like really thick air and then out my abdomen where gills had appeared i didn't have to breath just keep slowly moving it was so nice to lay on the bottom of my room and look up at the distorted sky, without any panic i could stay here all day
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i run
from the cold white rays of the sun my heart empty as i slide away from the dark void of loves residue echoing down empty corridors like a child's laughter after they've left the room torn emotional fabric barely holds hope slowly rethreads the needle weaving texture, stronger, lighter simpler more elegant but somehow incomplete waiting for loves return to add vibrancy dimension colour to say i don't get it
would be an understatement but don't mis-interpret me i don't hate it rhyming words at the end of the line set to a beat i could buy with a dime talking about booze, drugs and sex life is a party taken to excess that's all it is, that's what is seems i'm a millionaire party boy in my dreams i guess it's really hard to make things rhyme and it's even better if you commit a crime but good for Snoop and Drake they cast their thymes upon the land and in the end they made it man to say i don't get it would be an understatement but don't mis-interpret me maybe i could make it be patient
like the ambush predator waiting in the fog of consciousness for that moment when a flash of light the light of a new insight illuminates the grey synaptic landscape and starts a cascade of of pleasure until the idea is fully formed and swallowed whole and your creative hunger is satiated for now she said she needed space
in that instant the universe like a sucking wound dispersed my soul in random pieces glittering diamonds of hope and joy spreading away from me i ask why i want to push harder my mind says no i shout NO and this only pushes her further away endless days fold into endless nights her scent still lingers on my pillow a scent that is only her as the dark blue dawn turns to grey and i awaken to another endless day flavour du jour
activism distracts us from the big issue facts fall first then language loses meaning in a vast sea of relativism where the raging individual asserts god-given rights feels empowered unfortunately as the waters rise they realize too late they have never learned to swim and their god-given rights mean nothing to be desired
really wanted with a burning yearning passion to desire to want so bad every cell in your body is drawn like iron filings to a magnet to feel, to float on a roaring rapid washed away never catching your breath rain
to think that water can fall from the sky who will believe this when the future is so hot so dry that water never falls from the sky the first time i
tasted a fresh olive in Spain its soft texture and rich flavour, i smiled the first time i bought fresh red peppers at the market in Arizona the aroma filled the car, i sneezed the first time i hesitated, you said be gentle i felt ecstasy the first time i walked on white frost coated railway ties on the way to grade two, i felt magic the first time i tasted Johnnie Walker red, gulped it down, i threw up the first time i touched a dead person, i started to live the first time i held a newborn baby in my hands, a new life, i became insignificant More poems at: www.jamespangel.ca I can taste the words in my mind as
they form in my mouth ready to roll off the tip of my tongue sweet and gooey sharp, tart, spear like they penetrate my consciousness too soon those most delicious words build and build inside my jaw drops as the first “I” flows out, everything about me is in that “I” the top of my tongue caresses my upper teeth forming the “L” then lips parting “Love” goes forth your unblinking eyes like glaciers unmoving shielding deep mysteries and finally after eons from deep in my throat tongue curved and lips looking like an “O” the “y” flows forth and ”You” is born filling the canyon between us and still your face is a granite sculpture my mouth is limp, relaxed and moist slowly the corners of your mouth and eyes grow delicate happy lines of a smile and for a moment the space between us doesn’t exist |
AuthorI started my "Poem-A-Day" writing exercise back in 2010. It was a way to get into the habit of writing everyday. It took awhile but once I got into it I really enjoyed the process. I took a break in 2023 to work on getting "Carbon Copy" into the wild. I also wanted to re-read my poem-a-day scribblings to see if there were any unpolished gems amongst the rubble. My plan is to post one per week in my Blog. Find "Carbon Copy" at: Archives
February 2025
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