Saturday, February 28, 2009

Hey Wait You're Gorgeous

she had eyes
that reminded me of explosions in the sky
hits me like a blow to the chest

a hidden smile
and soft curves
she takes my breath away at the end

Friday, February 27, 2009

What may be now be in idioms

I'm not clear that I think
in the way that you think
because I hear you speak
and that's all we can be now

is language in bodies
ghost in the machine

it's as if I'm poorly subtitled,
and you'll never understand my idioms

Do you hear me?
whistling in the dark
abundance of albatross
hung round my neck

but I am true blue
I am the real Mccoy

and all I want is some truth,
or to be understood

Friday, February 20, 2009

The Mind Immortal

we're all just
looking at the past
'cause it still takes fractions of seconds
for light to reflect and
our brain to interpret
what the hell is going on here

we're like stars
burning all infinite
'cause there's no way to tell
if we're dead
or if we're living

in the time that it takes
for the light to reflect
and your brain
to interpret what exactly is happening
the heart ceases
the blood goes cold
the eyes are already glass
and you had no idea
you had no clue

I'm creating a hell
with women and distances
or proximities
like mines they wait
out there in the night
just looking to get off
taking the whole damned ship
in a flash then
nothing but cold
and the winds of change
are blowing hard on this
new jersey morning
and I fear whats coming
because i can
no longer see the horizon

fuck it

the whole worlds goin' to hell
and I'm just here
to enjoy the show

Thursday, February 19, 2009

The Unheard Song of the Wall Heater

Whispering sweetly, ringing, singing a song that can barely be heard over the vent fan.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Made of Sand

I built myself a castle
as I walked across the water
it melted in the wash again
made of sand and bound to falter

I was robbed of all my faith today
I lost hope in what I prayed for
I promised you I'd bring a sunrise
and give you what you stayed for

all your sins have brought you here
your beliefs are there to weave them
and all your demons hunt you now
but I can help you leave them

bring me to your resting ground
let my spirit be your martyr
frail and weak and loose and meek
made of sand and bound to falter

they will tell you not to think
and tell me not to feel
I can find the things in you
that make your conscience reel

the bindings keep you on the mark
the leaders keep you in line
the rules keep you in the dark
and blind you from the signs

'hail Mary full of grace'
we'll save you from the slaughter
this house of cards built of lies
made of sand and bound to falter

- by Joshua Fink and Michael Pascarelli

Weed Segue

you ever get so high you decide you'll be the first person ever to get out of the shower and invent new animals
and in case you don't know how to invent new animals
it's when you stand in front of the mirror, naked, and mimic one
with yoga poses and barn yard sounds
barn yard sounds that rattle like a dinosaur, Amazonian jungle, and whales humping
(emulate an animal squeal)
" that was the orange bandied snow viper"
although it was more of a band than a viper
yet still, the band was actually called, "Snow Vipers"

_ By Michael Pascarelli

Monday, February 16, 2009

tell me when to lie

I walk through waves and waves
Of information everyday
And I’d claim to feel it
If you’ll believe
With flexible language
Comes flexible reality

It’s freak flag is roflishly high

Wearing the hive mind on its sleeve
Marching out of step
More like goofy dancing really
In a coyote costume
Wiley without direct purpose
Into the future
With contradicting intention
But great whooping joy
Hiding hard dark bird shots of malice
Spit with appalling aim
A toddler a teenager an angry mob and a dance troupe
OH ERIS! I do so love the internet

Thursday, February 12, 2009

It's funny how things move
in and out of my life
like the garbage that's lying on the sidewalk;
the wind blowing it all towards me.
Englishtown never had any garbage on its sidewalks
even on the windiest of days.
But here, in this new town,
it's scattered all over the place;
the town's imperfections-
and that's alright with me

the drink ain't what I need
it's all I've got

John Cusak

I walk alone in the rain
maybe a scene from
your favorite movie in the 80's
I only wish I knew my way
across town to your house
'cause I'd raise my boom-box up
over my head with two hands
and proclaim my love for you

I walk alone in the day
writing it off as excercise
but I'm really just running
from my notebook
from thoughts of you
from bad television
and happiness surrounding me

I see only you
when staring into cups of coffee
and pancakes
forget about pancakes
you're there, too
you're in the butter
it fucking kills me

I am walking across campus
to my 8 o'clock class when
I stop halfway to take in
the breeze in the trees
the light in the clocktower
and the smell of the place
knowing it will somehow
all be different
once you come 'round

the clouds paint serpents
across the sky
and the night is asking
for our blood
but I won't give in

it's an emptyness
in my stomach
begging for a heart
'cause it's hungry
and it's a heaviness
in my chest
asking for a soul

she asks if I'm
dreaming of her
but I don't even sleep
since she's gone from eyes
she asks if I'm still
waiting for her
but it's not waiting
when she's all I got

the wind's been
blowin' all day
clouds form and
disappear just as fast
it's all fleeting
and ominous

the nights are clear
and cold
and the moon's about to burst
while I feel my heart
is fearing it will do the same

the wind's been blowin'
all day and tonight
there's something in the air here
and it doesn't smell
like the safety
of home

Random stings of code

i can' t describe the ways i love you, they're buried underneath five years of pride, farce, chance, humanity. I can'l get close to you, you're more distant than concept, absolution, certainty. I starve to understand you. I ache when i consider you. Will i quench my desire or will i embrace the potency of fate. My will is to defy. my fear consumes me. the path is always silent, it seems.

pythons wreak of deception, or at least that's what i'm told

Sunday, February 08, 2009

the house that time forgot, but mike and i remember

paint pealed and blown about a small room in a house no quite settled
theres a hint of sorrow floating cautious in the air
smells of old newsprint and sweat
the abandoned clothes and dishes scattered perfectly from room to room
giving it that lived in look

carpets rolled up like reposesed sod
the plywood floors soft and swollen
sag with age and experience

posters, faded torn and hanging
reminicent of some long forgotten concert hall
not much left in the fridge
just a box of baking soda no longer fit to do it it's job
i wonder if the light still works

the television turned on it's side a room overflowing with old racing forms and fadded rambling on various note pads... gives the impression that whatever he had been watching was disapointing enough to leave without paking a dam thing

maybe he was pissed about the finale of dallas

who the fuck shot jr, i dont know, but he sure wasn't happy about it

Saturday, February 07, 2009


has laid her down
made his preparations
and will stay with her
for three days

once ready
she will rise
and he will walk with her
to the shore

she will be given the instructions
she will not cry
but with one last look
she will continue on
never looking back

and we
will stay
looking forward
for the shore

Tuesday, February 03, 2009

Universal Beeswax by fLOT

I know now
The sky’s expansive pastures are forgiving and

Forgiving another forgives yourself
Inundated daily
By suffering of temporal existence
Which blows away like
The lightest and softest snow
On the very top
As gust greets morning on mountain

Same as we are thrust through space
Inside a primordial energetic seashell schwirl
Accepting the outcome
That informs each next moment

The softest snow blown off the top
Hits the cold atmosphere and
Becomes unfeeling and harder
Falling back to grounding at lower elevation
Having a snowflake epiphany
Melting into the warm dirt
Sunrays on brown earth

I know now I get it
Forgiving another forgives yourself
It’s universal beeswax
Not mine
Not yours

Blowing off the very top
The softest snow turns cold and hard
Then disintegrating falling melting evaporating
Back into the cycle again and
Here we go again!

Like A River

I wish I could flow
Like a river runs
Without stopping drips
Without dropping hints
About phrases long caught in stasis
Left to conclude with no basis
To form a foundation
No ground to indicate
Some forgotten absorption
Taken in and never released

I wish I could flow
Like a canyon crow
Flies high up on the air

Above the ridge and valley
Above the river’s many eddies
Above all the earthbound creatures
Dropping and lifting on currents

I wish I could flow
Like a saxophone blows
Not expressing opinion distinct
Gurgling or peeking out
From under the madness
Or slow, easy, languid
Or shrieking in glee
Easily mistaken for anger

I wish I could flow
Like a river flows
Like a pine cone or
A rock that knows
Whether it is naked or clothed
Whether it is caught or thrown
Skipping over the surface

I wish I could flow
Like a river flows

Sunday, February 01, 2009


Groundhog's Day is tomorrow...

I fear the weeks to come

The Bum

Paulie watched the harbor boats
every night before he'd sleep
under a sheet of cardboard
his wildest dreams would creep

come out to the dockyards
washing vessels before the launch
he only takes what he's offered
in mind and principle staunch

the night's cold offers no solace
the concrete harbors no hope
the moon is a constant reminder
of an ever downward slope

Paulie knows about a shelter
where the boys can go to get warm
a brand new shirt and a jacket
and a place to chase away harm

he walks into the cathedral
candle flicker lights up on the wall
there's a sign on the door where he enters
says'"welcome. come one. come all"

Paulie stands in line with the others
a nun hands him a spoon and a bowl
tucks a napkin into his collar
and says, "come warm your spirit and soul."

as the line glides into the kitchen
Paulie smells the broth in brew
and the priest waves the line along
"every one"

"we've seen you around with the others
but you've never spoken a word
of life or strife or daughter or wife
or a single word of the Lord"

"and today you come here begging
asking for our meager offer
but you sleep away your hours
for which our own Messiah suffered"

Paulie leaves the church yard
knowing now he'll never win
and finds the hobos on the railroad tracks
with a plastic bottle of gin

he sips from the bottle neck
and pisses out his soul
and lies beside the train rail
breathing burning oil and coal

Another Last Night

Camel non-filters
and 92 proof rum
some one's screaming in the bedroom
sex or injury
I can't tell
bass is shaking the floor mats
vomit clings to the sink
belly shirts are lifting in the kitchen
drunk or easy
I can't tell
the kids are bleeding on the patio
the glitter queens are stuck in the mirror
pulling tasting wasted grace
dream or nightmare
I can't tell
frost on windows snaps the light inside
bouncing off the moment
blinding everyone from everything
death or glory
I can't tell

Product of Loss

the new child
the new child gone
the tearing moments between thoughts
the hope for what was
what isn't
what we need
who we needed when
the breaking tension of sterile walls
waiting room depression
it's damp out now
and dusk has merely passed
she comes out with tears dried
the procedure
'the excavation'
hollowing out our soul on paper sheets
sign away your child
swipe your card here
and nothing ever happened