it's not so much

[judih]

it's not so much the writing on the wall
or the thoughts that burst through paint chips
it's more the music that strokes my pencil
that convinces me that words are worthy
that thoughts deserve to stand a while
or lie blatantly face up, daring the eye
provoking the mind,
claiming a day even, stretching fame to make it last
it's not so much
but it's a lot

it's a joke played on an ethos
a strike against puritan work ethic
a spit in the face of mr. clean
it's a total revolution on my wall
graffiti would be proud of me
though, truly, it's not so much


sept26/09
judih - (what? no paper? hand me a pencil, i've got a wall)

[Avery L. Breath]

beauty, nice one Judih.

[judih]

thank you, mr avery L.
what's on your wall lately?

[Avery L. Breath]

It's not so much the writing on the wall
leering past my retinas as if by no choice
ruminations of the unconscious stream
forming solution against all drought
with intent filled distraction
brush dips to ink

prose slips by the senses
dancing it's own twisted jig
in spite of best wishes
unbridled the ink sheds
in suspense filled spaces


as I gasp at whats missing
and how little I miss it

[judih]

in an age of anti-matter
doesn't matter
no worries
we worry
we sit in quasi meditation
or not, to be in zen totality
or not, how little it takes
to fill our void
yet void is so lusciously empty
lots of space between the ears
rattling or revolving
been taught to focus
been trained to unfocus
colliding entities
one on one
doesn't matter much
we worry
no worries
with luck pops a poem
a song, a moment
a cocoon  of laughter
twirling like the steam of a finjan
bubbling liquid
from cup to cup
one on one
we cease to worry
we miss nothing
we miss it all
the mist carries our mind to sweet reveries
we see nothing
we see it all

[Avery L. Breath]

Wowzer!

[Avery L. Breath]

whispers in wonder
in cryptic intonation
and jovial bliss
is no simple revival  
in revelations and revere  
as even the best faces reveal
their rack and their wheel
curtailing simple syllable
in favor of erstwhile spin
to mock the unassailable
for grip and for grin
in cracks and seams and faults
and spreads and swells
fomenting with descent  
of drips upon drops
and gushes to gails
crashing torrents of disbelief
we never the less sail
this sea of bliss and sleet
anticipations to unveil
the pale to be devoured
it's pieces in splintery shards
and only now do I find peace
with no answer but disbelief
for their is no pale
and at last peaceful sleep