war III

i wish i could communicate by radio
to you;

but iraq is listening in
on our pen pal talk

if only
War III stopped-
dropping suicide bombers

on my typewriter;

but
the blitzkrieg pop keeps going,
so our love
must wait

pops, bombs, booms,
all-
it noises my
hearing,
of
your guitar tuning;

whimpering guns shoot slow
and beat to death even slower
than my heart ba-bumping beats

i wish it to stop-
either or:
war III or my heart.

Did you know, about my eyes...

... is there light ?




Did you know...it was all going to go so wrong for you
And did you see it was all going to be so right for me
Why did we tell you then
You were always the golden boy then
And that you'd never lose that light in your eyes

Hey you...did you ever realize what you'd become
And did you see that it wasn't only me you were running from
Did you know all the time but it never bothered you anyway
Leading the blind while I stared out the steel in your eyes

The rain fell slow, down on all the roofs of uncertainty
I thought of you and the years and all the sadness fell away from me
And did you know...

I never thought that you'd lose that light in your eyes

the row

study break





mary-kate and ashley fashion line

all you need is love

on a cold day like today
this is all i need

the cold weather always makes me happy

i'm 50 or so years from 72

Suicide Kid

by : Bukowski

I went to the worst of bars
hoping to get
killed.
but all I could do was to
get drunk
again.
worse, the bar patrons even
ended up
liking me.
there I was trying to get
pushed over the dark
edge
and I ended up with
free drinks
while somewhere else
some poor
son-of-a-bitch was in a hospital
bed,
tubes sticking out  all over
him
as he fought like hell
to live.
nobody would help me
die as
the drinks kept
coming,
as the next day
waited for me
with its steel clamps,
its stinking
anonymity,
its incogitant
attitude.
death doesn't always
come running
when you call
it,
not even if you
call it
from a shining
castle
or from an ocean liner
or from the best bar
on earth (or the
worst).
such impertinence
only makes the gods
hesitate and
delay.
ask me: I'm
72.

Found on Denise's Camera

My sister Denise just came back from a trip to England with her lovers; she brings back the BEST gifts {Shakespeare shot glass!}; i found these on her camera:
{i liked the photos so i decided to post them, hoping i go back to Europe one day}

{the end}

i'm telling you now

what will stay;

if you left before the shakes?

i was alone

in a shaking building

alone

meaning alone

night was there and the earth started again with its quakes

french songs playing until they weren't

no food consumed, no tears yet wiped

the wine dropped on the floor

let's play hiding seek

have you found me yet?

yes, under a desk under a building under death

over your body

i guess you didn't make it out either

how come, though, you left

but managed dying as me?

i was alone under a desk

under a building

under death

i don't know much

but i don't think you are supposed to leave when i get scared

is this how you've been

yes

a

girl in the garden

Gerhard Richter (Dresden)

going to the moon

Things mostly come and they go -
mostly they go

there were no rooftops for us to climb;
i don't want to fall down.

i want to go up to the moon, give up residency ;

i forfeit sanity- (like i ever had it)

russian rockets take me to the man on the moon
please

i want to go home
to the face on the moon

play with the rocks

please
red rocket

if flags do fly on the moon
i'll wave back to
the nonexistent roof

i'll give you tapes you don't listen to

i'll tell you the worst of me and try
to give you the best of me
because
you don't deserve any less

Reflections of a Skyline





"get scared when you're angry"

{found by le love}

dirty gutters

i was born with a weak heart;
weak as:
papernews;

it falls down dirty gutters.
still,
north korea vomits rockets,
the petty billionaire stock
is free falling,
the citi wants planes,
but fact is,
american birds
aren't meant for
american towers
like
london birds
are meant for
london towers;

nonetheless,
red, white, and blue
the pounds are coming !
pounds, pounds, pounds
of american lard
la lard, la lard

is that my american heart pounding?

la lard la lardlalardlalardlalard,

my beatboxing heart is without breath.
hallucinating
in news reels

helicooper, helicooper, helicooper
three hundred sixty degree turns
won't get me to the hospital!

give me drug, give me drink.
i will not Revere.
continue alone to,
new york, new york.

send my regards to the times
remember me

the midnight hour
will bring a ball bomb;
dropping glitter into dirty gutters

remember me

Eyes Without a Face

Les yeux sans visage (1960)

Extremely sad and distrubing.

Of Screams

a scream of fear in 1961

i want to scream
of

FEAR

To Lorca, a letter

Dear Lorca,

I would like to make poems out of real objects. The
lemon to be a lemon that the reader could cut and squeeze-a real lemon
like a newspaper in a collage is a real newspaper. I would like the
moon in my poems to be a real moon, one which could suddenly be covered
with a cloud that has nothing to do with the poem, a moon utterly
independent of images.


-Jack Spicer

Art Corner

Time Machine Scrambler, Painting, Photography, Firework Project, Pinball

Rosemaire Fiore
New York City