he inspires me...one night after reading Tristessa, and started scribbling pages and pages of words and non-sense for days and days...i don't know what to think of them, poeticaly, but i think emotionaly they evoque alot in me, i was wondering what other people might see or feel when they read my poetry... ----- Where is the sense In this fiction we live in Fingertip pressed letters that form words Words and phrases and texts and then And then what else? Hidden behind neon screens and Time zones Tell me stranger, what are we? A novel of dialogues That speak of distant times and places. The clock freezes, Yet not quite, The numbers keep moving Day into night and day again But everything stays the same ----- I fixed my eyes onto the moon And it seems so out of place In daylight. I can feel the cracking sound of the snow beneath my shoes. And soon the moon disappears behind suburban rooftops And it is as if I’m walking only to find it again. With the sound of melancholy in my ears I cannot hear the cars And I don’t care to move to the sides Because the road is mine. I will find The moon Again Hovering over naked, leafless and Lifeless Trees ----- She is standing Unstill; ”Stay still, Child”. And sometimes I wonder how She can keep Her soul so alive, When Her body is so restless. Her words stay quiet, And I wonder How She can be So silent When time has been so cruel. And I wonder how she can still Be A child Like all others. And every time she flashes a smile We are reminded that time Has also been more generous Than it should have been. ”Child, you are brilliant” And the look in her eyes Tells me I am saying nothing She does not know already. Oh, how one look means So much more than A thousand words could ever mean. ----- If there’s anything That makes me cry these days It’s the space between this music That always leaves room for you. And just let me say That everything, Everything carries your name. ----- ”You ever been in the Zone?” And you ask with invitation As if you know. Rubber bands and Shaky hands. ”What’s it like?” The look in your eyes gives away the wanting in your veins “The needle bites and the shock’s a delight.” It’s out to get naïve fools like me, boy. And I know you know because you just bet your next hit on me. Dirty needles and Dirty games. Splinter in my vein. All need’s the same Anyway. ----- A roof over my head And food in my stomach. And then I think about How wide the road stretches on for And I want to be there Among all the changing lines And dizzying lights I want to cruise through the night And the day Until my body can’t take it anymore. ----- And like nothing I am gone Further in From the outside A growing distance Between them And I I shift and sway From the sidelines Which are much like tight rope If i tip toe from place to place I am stable while balancing Unless it is only A creation of the conscious mind That I am well In the absence Of other bodies And different minds ----- Walking back More like dragging back my own self. After a walk through Nowhere, Because where am I really? Who knows. A spot on a map, dirt, Dust, a speck, maybe. Oh in my mind, Anywhere, anywhere But this place. Running out only to come back again To this, Whatever this may be. And what I thought was my mother, Standing behind the glass door Was only the shadow Of trees. Tall, small and limp and sad and wet with rain, Like her, oh far too much like her. ----- Heavy, heavy. Ongoing visions of Now, then, afterwards, The then of the afterwards now. Where are we, where were we yesterday Where to go With empty pockets… Knees to the ground, Hands to the sky Open wide, Lord, where do we sleep tonight? ----- They’re animals, They’re everywhere Land, water and sky. Penetrating, violating Digging their roaring crooked hearts and hands Into this earth. ----- well i'll leave it at that for now....
such a richness in the words you put together! Reading it i went to tokyo in the city with neon lights, to its suburbs in winter snow, to my first house's back yard in the rain at night to a wooden room with a white light comming from above- they would make wonderful songs, very nice wax
Oh my...you talk bout how Tristessa seemed to greaty affect you, and you truly managed to convey this emotion to me; the words could just tear feelings and thoughts out of me. I loved this very, very much. One part that deeply stuck with me: If there’s anything That makes me cry these days It’s the space between this music That always leaves room for you. And just let me say That everything, Everything carries your name It was like an awakening, as were all of these. Fantastic job!
I too like these very much, read a line and can't wait to read the next sentance to find an answer that was never there. I can relate, after I read "On The Road", Jack K., I actually left the last three pages unread for about three dayz, not wanting to finish it, the end had to justify the entire read, it had to make me smile, in reading your expressions here I see he got to you too, and yes the end of "On The Road", J.K.- left me full, and smiling, I love words, and how one can make, or, break someones day, and that's thinking small, I'm walking out my front door now, and I'll be smiling.... ") Thanks for sharing with all.... Peace, Devon Knight ~
Wow, really inspiring work, Wax. I can definetly see the Kerouac inspiration, hehe. He's inspired much of my work, too. Great job, keep writing.
