the writings of blake ellington larson

Category: 2005: pigeon poems

my photographs draft on imperfect nature

their crumbs laugh stature

churn with sloppish motive

from vagabond tags and
short secrets unbodied
i style my vanishings with adorable facade

i trip skip my phase-by’s without a compass

i imagine the enemy in denim

and focus accordingly

(2005)

i keeps sponging it all in

bouncing emblems from east to west
tracing pigeons against cement

my fire-side eye-lines look up and down
and red all over

my vision-depth is curve-ular at best
only didn’t bring a camera

II.

my hurricane alley showdown
walks postcard feet on cut streets

i brought europe’s purrs and some bags of fodder
so’s i could make new friends

learnt curls would unfurl like
fingernails soothe spines like

a bottle of wine and a polaroid

(2005)

my cloud of sleep is shed in slithers of hot mist

it’s heavy in here

the piano in abrupt whispers
chimes to the tempo of a creaking door

and the room becomes silent
and only one melody lingers longer
than it’s stillness

and it reminds me of you
and your long and dark pose

your jagged absence

II.

a high school sonata
the color of our school bell
keeps ringing in my ears

the memory of wide eyes
of lit candles in well-lit rooms

the falling dust
the air and sun

III.

and you sat shotgun on that motorcycle
while i played a soliloquy on the piano
like we were moving at 180 mph in that garage

i watched you drown in that silence
watched you float literally like liquid
from me to you

IV.

here though
the piano plays like someone else
were here to hear it’s song

and while the audience keeps secrets
and something keeps time
and like i keep your ghost

if only for a moment

my heart races
(2005)

across a land

a banded smile
o’er rich thick blood
lost a mile

and years across
where fear does dread
a happy heart
still beats undead

and if i choose
to cancel out
what mortals pine
or others doubt

i’d take a heed
and give it light
i’d draw your palm
to my delight

(2005)

it ends as it begins

shattered glass
metal in my dreams

silver clouds
and long pauses

the sky as blue as silk
comes crashing through

the grass

(2005)

it’s like i can’t swallow

it all at once

we return to places
we forget to mention

my youth
it seems
mapped out in
death and love

keeps calling
me back

(2005)

it’s heavy in here

the piano in abrupt whispers
chimes to the tempo of a creaking door

and the room becomes silent
and only one melody lingers longer
than it’s stillness

and it reminds me of you
and your long and dark pose

your jagged absence

II.

a high school sonata
the color of our school bell
keeps ringing in my ears

the memory of wide eyes
of lit candles in well-lit rooms

the falling dust
the air and sun

III.

and you sat shotgun on that motorcycle
while i played a soliloquy on the piano
like we were moving at 180 mph in that garage

i watched you drown in that silence
watched you float literally like liquid
from me to you

IV.

here though
the piano plays like someone else
were here to hear it’s song

and while the audience keeps secrets
and something keeps time
and like i keep your ghost

if only for a moment

my heart races
(2005)

angel’s father fought in the spanish civil war

had a tattoo and drank champagne to celebrate
the death of franco

angel doesn’t drink – doesn’t have tattoos

angel tells me i look like a spaniard

angel shines the brass rails
opens the windows and the gates
sweeps the front patio
opens the elevator for me
in the mornings and at night

we talk about miro and picasso

angel tells me he could have painted
that shit when he was young

tells me the art i’m in search of
is not the art he’s sure of

tells me if you paint a tree
it’s supposed to look like a tre

II.

and barcelona celebrates
the four hundredth anniversary
of cervantes’ don quixote
and of sant jordi

and the streets are filled
with books and roses
and stalks of wheat

III.

amongst iron bats
and underwater architecture
picasso’s famous rendition of quixote
adorns the street corners

and on huge banners everywhere

angel has no idea
it’s tattooed on my right leg
that it’s in my blood
like his
(2005)

i read her short story

as i sit on her bed

we broke up
weeks ago

and she plays me
records

the sky is so beautiful
outside

all patchy blues

whites
and grays
without a sun

(2005)

out among graves

my brother and i

taking pictures

(2005)

my happiness is spindles

past woven tapestries

memories i’ve frozen
to the core of me

button-willow heart-throbs
and daisy’s

wildflowers

(2005)

like candy on valentines

i’m in a chair
one of those plastic blue ones
ass sweat
grid on rump
backpack gets filled with stupid notes
heart shaped sugar bombs
promised love

she broke up with me
eighth grade i
bought her earrings and flowers
in the gym sitting cross’d legs
and sad on carpet

blue eyes that loved me more than

early film of running from

winter formal was the dance that
danced my

panic waves
charades
games played and

me on that cement corner
and somebody’s mom
in an suv and

(2005)

it’s black

and it’s a worn worn shirt
holes and all
cigarettes
laugh stains
good memories
and silence

it’s black
it’s real

it’s hanging on a wire
outside your house

it’s charging the electricity in you

all the cracks and breaks
every misfiring signal
from wire to wire

it’s in you like blood
true blue
red and black
(2005)

bleed your smog fumes and cut your losses

cut your losses

stain your peril

your superb un-match
is at flames and at war with
your true un-welcom’d cravings

they draw infinites in old scrabble diaries

they clean the demise from
turrid heartbreaks that become
‘the meeting place’

II.

and your monolith strays from old gold glory
and the sages say nothing of
waves that blend new legs on old savvy

says nothing of new respect

(2005)