Poems by PastaNazi

DopeBeastie

Tacitly implied is my wish to let go.
Wink Wink, Right next door
to my wish to hold on.

A wish to hold cut upon
knowing the folds
that hold you and brought you
to knowing.

So gently speak to
the course of the tides
through which you move me.

Oh,
and I am.
So moved.

We speak to pre-dawn
The tide quiver comes.
The crystal ball hums
Right next door
to daybreak.

I shiver the absence
my lunalit night.
You lend me your coat
And you carry me home.

savannah66

Originally posted by PastaNazi
We speak to pre- dawn.
And tide quiver comes.
The crystal ball hums
Right next door
to daybreak.

I shiver the absence
my lunalit night.
You lend me your coat
And you carry me home.

Very nice imagery, PastaNazi. I enjoyed this...thanks for sharing it.

setaside2

I know this story.

the need to take and to give and to remedy and to cure and to hold and to seek and to shell and to home and to bleed and to stopper up the mess and to dedicate and to reminisce and to open and to close and to understand what is open and when it is closed...

till dawn is in repose.

May the coat be armored from the inside as well as from without

and may the kevlar hug you in its owner's stead

a friendship founded on pain and stumbled words

a cover fashioned in similarities and need

fear the rejection while at the same time respecting the need for space and movement, the dance is ever more difficult without the partner, they say...

a hand held out every day.

FinsburyParkCarrots

May the sheen on your hardhat catch simples of the moon, the shine on your Doc Martins willo the wisps and enchanting beams of another light from the night's long road over the construction site of a new love...may health and safety still coax the magic of exposure to a new-building moment unfolding.

Being Enlightened

So pretty PastaNazi! And I really, really liked the last two lines!! Bellisimo! (sp? )

DopeBeastie

for you all who leave me tearstung...

(see Being's quote below)

Being Enlightened

Originally posted by PastaNazi
for you all who leave me tearstung...


up up up up up up
points the spire of the steeple
but god's work isn't done by god
it's done by people

up up up up up up
points the fingers of the trees
the lumberjacks
with their bloody axes
are on their knees

and just when you think that you've got enough
enough grows
and everywhere that you go in life
enough knows

up up up up up up
dances the steam from the sewer
as she rounds the corner
the brutal wind blows right through her

up up up up up up
raises the stakes of the game
each day sinks its bootprint into her clay
and she's not the same

and just when you think that you've got enough
enough grows
and everywhere that you go in life
enough knows

and half of learning how to play
is learning what not to play
and she's learning the spaces she leaves
have their own things to say
then she's trying to sing just enough
so that the air around her moves
and make music like mercy
that gives what it is
and has nothing to prove

she crawls out on a limb
and begins to build her home
it's enough just to look around
to know she's not alone

up up up up up up
points the spire of the steeple
but god's work isn't done by god
it's done by people

That was just delightful! Thanks for sharing!

DopeBeastie

Originally posted by Being Enlightened
That was just delightful! Thanks for sharing!

the thanks all go to you, savannah, fins and of course... seta



everyday

setaside2

you are of course quite welcome.

DopeBeastie

kevlar hugs, seta
my love in this

DopeBeastie

On the Banks

Certain things fade to black
becoming thick and confused,
scared and worrisome.

Certain things fade to black,
and condone our own
fear and self-loathing.

While in this we know
that all things change,
that this is not quicksand...
we still look down and see our ankles dissapear.

And also, while it is very good to have
a friend nearby,
with a rope,
essential even, depending on how far out we got before the ground went soft...

we never learn

until we escape alone.

DopeBeastie

This is a sedentary life,
this being strapped to strange intimacies,
this biological lying,
this cerebral baiting of hook to worm.
A wrinkle in time through which I travel to another place where I am not myself
and the universe is not so familiar.
I feel myself snapping back. Waking up.
Being called back in hypnosis.
I'm surprised to find myself a guest in my own home.
Restricted to the common rooms.
Not wanting to look through drawers and closets to see what secrets my host hides or what books she's bought for fear she will seem ungodly, uncaring, thoughtless or unremembering that I would someday return.
Yes, I am a guest...
but I believe I can make stay this old new place.

DopeBeastie

Your eyes aren't green

Like pasture

or Primary

or Yellow

or Brown

or Forest,

(Jenny, I know what Love is. )



Your eyes....



They are teal

and they are gorgeous.

FAR from bourgeois

(oh look, a silent rhyme... no... seriously, but...

which one would you change? Guzshwah??? Boarjush???

I'd pick Guzshwah, myself... my gosh you are so guzshwah to me....)



They ARE dark

and beautiful.

Not see-through

like mine.



But rich.

But full.



Like the Emeralds-smashed-into-sapphires kinda green

you might find in Irish Listerine complete with

little bits and flecks left here and there

that stick in the tips of my toes

when I go tripping through tulips.

FinsburyParkCarrots

I do like it, pasta...it's pretty.

DopeBeastie

Oh Honey, don't it rise and fall? Nature's pall a feeble din that keeps me whole and upright when all the poets wax on love and somebody else falling out of it. Can there no permanent hope that the Gods might allow me to free myself from my own unsung heart, even though it was my own propitious need that served to bait the initial trappings of that public love? How do we wash our own blood off the inside of who we are? And aren't these questions, in and of themselves, not unlike the way up a roller-coaster? A main feed into guilt-fed adrenalin?

I should like to come down now.

I should like to come down and have the things I touch remain what they were, beautiful and whole, because I am not King Midas, and even he was displeased in the end. Oh, the King! How he must've had trouble sleeping with the pompous hard on of his potential... I know I do. I do, that is until my dreams come to throw the covers off my own doubt-fed fear I left sleeping on the king three days ago.

You know what? I don't know. But I saw myself going in. An angry hunter lopped down to the pawnshop to stock up on ammo. Driven by mad starvation, an empty freezer, and a full tank of resentment, I went out to the badlands and shot the first deer I could find. I ate its warm heart right there on the spot. Deer-God! I was hungry. I know I'd sworn off meat, but my garden.... oh my gardens were rife with bees and I just couldn't go out there and get stung. Again.

Sure, I could have tried to anesthetize the hive in a thick, stupid smoke, but my eyes were swollen shut. I think i'd become so sensitve, that the merest thought of getting stung served only to close my throat. Caution held my breath, an invisible hand around my neck and so I just didn't bother. Bees are, after all, bees, and, are you getting these? These three hundred and sixty degrees? I blame them and then I blame me? Dear God! I AM an island!

Must I remain? My own cast away?

Buru

very pretty poem, it is beautifully written


I also liked "On the Banks" and the poem about being a guest at your own home and the one about "enough growing and knowing"
maybe because I have shared those thoughts and feelings

Buru

Originally posted by PastaNazi
Tacitly implied is my wish to let go.
Wink Wink, Right next door
to my wish to hold on.

A wish to hold cut upon
knowing the folds
that hold you and brought you
to knowing.

So gently speak to
the course of the tides
through which you move me.

Oh,
and I am.
So moved.

We speak to pre- dawn.
And tide quiver comes.
The crystal ball hums
Right next door
to daybreak.

I shiver the absence
my lunalit night.
You lend me your coat
And you carry me home.

DopeBeastie

Thank You, Buru That last thing is a new and developing style of mine, speaking in sentences rather than short fragments. I've been working on a few longer pieces so I am glad for the feedback.

I've battered my brain, attempting some "enlightenment". I feel like i'm on the otherside of everyone and would be very pleased to read anything you've written on having "those thoughts and feelings".

Thanks Again

FinsburyParkCarrots

It works, PastaNazi:

You know what? I don't know. But I saw myself going in. An angry hunter lopped down to the pawnshop to stock up on ammo. Driven by mad starvation, an empty freezer, and a full tank of resentment, I went out to the badlands and shot the first deer I could find. I ate its warm heart right there on the spot. Deer-God! I was hungry. I know I'd sworn off meat, but my garden.... oh my gardens were rife with bees and I just couldn't go out there and get stung. Again.


The images articulate the heart and mind's landscape: the conflict of desire/appetite(s)/the desperation for visceral contact in the fear of loneliness, and the simultaneous need for isolation.

FancyFacade

really beautiful poetry/writing PastaNazi, thanks for sharing

setaside2

Originally posted by PastaNazi
Oh Honey, don't it rise and fall? Nature's pall a feeble din that keeps me whole and upright when all the poets wax on love and somebody else falling out of it. Can there no permanent hope that the Gods might allow me to free myself from my own unsung heart, even though it was my own propitious need that served to bait the initial trappings of that public love? How do we wash our own blood off the inside of who we are? And aren't these questions, in and of themselves, not unlike the way up a roller-coaster? A main feed into guilt-fed adrenalin?

I should like to come down now.

I should like to come down and have the things I touch remain what they were, beautiful and whole, because I am not King Midas, and even he was displeased in the end. Oh, the King! How he must've had trouble sleeping with the pompous hard on of his potential... I know I do. I do, that is until my dreams come to throw the covers off my own doubt-fed fear I left sleeping on the king three days ago.

You know what? I don't know. But I saw myself going in. An angry hunter lopped down to the pawnshop to stock up on ammo. Driven by mad starvation, an empty freezer, and a full tank of resentment, I went out to the badlands and shot the first deer I could find. I ate its warm heart right there on the spot. Deer-God! I was hungry. I know I'd sworn off meat, but my garden.... oh my gardens were rife with bees and I just couldn't go out there and get stung. Again.

Sure, I could have tried to anesthetize the hive in a thick, stupid smoke, but my eyes were swollen shut. I think i'd become so sensitve, that the merest thought of getting stung served only to close my throat. Caution held my breath, an invisible hand around my neck and so I just didn't bother. Bees are, after all, bees, and, are you getting these? These three hundred and sixty degrees? I blame them and then I blame me? Dear God! I AM an island!

Must I remain? My own cast away?

this one's a tough one for me... i like it but I can feel you warming to it all the way throughout... and then the end a fist held triumphant. Which was great! You are growing well in long form LOL!

I'm sorry I haven't been on your thread too much of late, I have no excuse.

love,

seta

DopeBeastie

my dear Set Aside! i mean no roughness in your direction and am glad you show up when you can, no excuse needed...

and thank you, Fancy and Fins for your kinds words, though...

"it works???"


makes me think it might not....

i like to examine this raunchyness from time to time, i want so badly for people to connect with it and forgive me for it... but, "oh well" if they don't or can't... i do, and i'm happy i'm able


i'll be taking a break for a while... not that y'all might notice as I like putting stuff up in here, BUT...

if anyone writes anything they want me to see, know full well I WANT to see it and send it to me in email, or at least a notification that you've posted.... I would so wholeheartedly appreciate being thought of thanks....


for those of you who don't know...


You all rock so hard the ground shakes even in the middle of nowhere...


MUCH EtherLOVE

me

coleen

Originally posted by PastaNazi
for those of you who don't know...

I am Yellow
and I am TenaciousA, too

goodness!!!

i'm making a list now and checking it twice.

don't stay away too long, please.

FinsburyParkCarrots

You relax and have fun, my friend. Be the one who ran away from the circus. Enjoy the break.

DopeBeastie

coleen, a shoe fetish gets expensive, no??? YOU must promise to send me your stuff, k?


and i will, dear cheesebury... you know I wont be "far"

setaside2

Yes, but I suppose I'll be seeing all three of you very shortly... oh she of the multitasked poet personalities.

indeed indeed.

I think you could do with a break from my work in particular. LOL

HOW many pages was it?

Sigh...

but even i of the infrequent visits shall miss you dearly.

setamarc

DopeBeastie

(deal with it)

Viscosity

It only takes a couple of hundred years for glass to get hips.
Reset the hook and flip the frame.
In the same vein, time might return
its terms in thickness,
but still, everything will change.
Flame tempered and blown.
Our own reflections question
what other people always see.
So much the shame and blessing.
We wrap our own arms
around our own selves
enough but
can’t feel a passing through
an existence of love
within and between
the valves.
Metaphysically
we can imagine it.
But there is nothing
like being held.
We are too used.
Too our own smell.

FinsburyParkCarrots

When you've got a beard, it doesn't matter how many times you shampoo it...It always smells as if there's a dog about the place...

:D:D

DopeBeastie

hmmmm


i believe the pasta nazi should abstain from comment as she'd only get props for the assist


being??? get yer ass in here!

Being Enlightened

Originally posted by PastaNazi
hmmmm


i believe the pasta nazi should abstain from comment as she'd only get props for the assist


being??? get yer ass in here!

( l ) - It's in here!!!!! (Butt only briefly. Lotsa worky, worky :( )

There is "nothing like being held"--mmm, mmm, feels soooo good, my little pasta loathing friend!!!!

Fins man!!!! WTF are you doing to your poor mutt?????

OR

Have you finally learned a new position????

DopeBeastie

SCORE!

DopeBeastie

it's all up in the house like paint
wheelchair light
assisted sheets
paint
trip
fall
understanding all
floats silently
away
away and toward
while we sleep on
smells atop sheets that we wont wash
because scent comforts primitive
scent proves someone loves me
and i might add that
while i hide
sometimes in closets
sometimes uncertain kingdom comes
kingdom comes anyway

and we arrive at slightly different moments under microscopes built by Forever
still
at exactly
and precisely
the same place
the same space on a checker board where we are kinged or
we are conquered
black or red
understanding all floats away and toward

we come
kinged