Grime is our present
common denominator
what hope of elevation
have ye?
Is there a far shore
where shall we find
safe harbor?
throw it all in the air
like a jack-in-the-box
/ take as many as we can
/ down with us
/ worship at the granite
and marvel @ marble
/ crush the joy
/ & take no prisoners
PMPope 2014
The loud shaking of the dog
Echoes through cavernous living room
It’s symbolic intent, he makes known around noon
His jet black and tuxedo white coat
Makes the most
Snapping/slapping sound
He shakes himself from his slumber
To reinvigorate his old puppy bones
With a sniff of his black button nose
He yawns to prepare for his breakfast
Thrusts his hind-parts into the slumbering air
This day he starts anew
It’s not really that hard to make someone happy
You don’t have to buy them bison ice cream cones
or shoot a buffalo from a moving truck but when you look
at them and say
‘Hey, you! You are a baby and for lunch you are an envelope
you are a nut and hello
you are an unemployed antelope
you are a nut and hello.’
they may get the wrong idea
No big whoop
How much does it cost
To make someone happy?
Next line
Next Space
If you give them something their nudes could nude use
Did you choose?
Face the music
Did ever anyone, person or not, hand you on empty box?
Brother fly is buzzing, trapped between shade and the window
My Bibles are sitting on the stereo
A wedding will take place today
There is a young lady
All of my life
Who could make me happy
But I’d never be as happy as I should
Today, however, I am happier
The light of the world Is calling me out of this place
I am lying on the bed
Brother fly is trapped between the blinds and the window
Today I am the photographer
My job is to capture images
It makes people happy
So much of what passes
As modern and current
Is warped and twisted
There is a vortex
In the tide pool
Handing out badges for darkness
The praise of peoples’ vacuousness
There is a miracle cure for every ailment
Your braininess may not allow you to swallow
Unspoken forces are in control
From behind these blinding bomb blasts
Of glitter and strobing smoke mirrors
I don’t know about any of y’all
I was born perfect
The Earth made me this way
When I make it to the photo booth
At the proverbial end of the road
With a George Washington quarter
In my hand
& drop it into the mechanical slot
It will roll like a Midwestern pool ball
To the THUNK! & the snap CLICK!
Of the FLASH! bulb
& when, dear friends, a developing Polaroid
comes grinding out of the retrieval slot
I know, for some strangely compelling reason
I must
Even though I’m tempted to leave it resting right there
Like a tongue sticking out at the end of a joke
I must
I know
I must
Take this picture
Shake it twice
Staring for that infinite moment
At the person my life has produced
Late summer sky filled with the call of jet turbines
The war, they say, is getting ready to escalate
5:55 is rush hour for the International airport crowd
All the timepieces synchronized by a radio talk show
Scheduling is getting a bit more tight
Only so many hours in a day
On top of that,
To top it off,
You’ve got your bank holidays
Dotting the calendar like those fine pearls
Or the finest gold from Ophir
The atheists have started buying billboards
Which is quite an accomplishment
For people who don’t believe in anything
Other than their selves
While the rest of the world is flabbergasted
By the lengths some peoples children will go
To make their mark on society
Fine lady with your sparkling cider eyes
Colors I drink in to the intoxi-point of stupefaction
A brain buzzing as a hornet’s nest
Longing for the languishing brush of antenna
transmitter of my fleshy desire
How far do I enter before escape
Beyond abandon
As once or twice or multiplication
of powers through history
When a candy hardened heart pop
Lay broken in the parking lot
And the swarms danced atop
The sticky spot outside civilizations
Lost to the sweeping tide of deserts
Encroachment through those once
Fertile lushness of our honeymoon suite.
pmpope 2012
Her eye captures image from behind crystal lenses / There has never been another / Of her ilk & ingenuity / Her name flowers on gusts of electrons / shot from devices, satellites, fingertips, cyber-social trunks of electronic forests / a vine curling through the phone line / a soft prismatic shadow etched into the reflection off thousands of pixels / streaming into a philosophic blue iris / thousands of miles away
3dgeranch Multi*Media 