Tuesday, August 24, 2010

faust's poem to yoko

thank you, you're welcome or love





you

who have been

there with me

before i was here

only already knowing the impossible thing,

the unbearable

thing that freezes time

knowing there is a way out

you know a way

out the only

way out is through

our reflections of others

in which scene we are seen in

in which seen we are seeming in which sea we are

seeing

ourselves

our sense of the future

is there where


nothing else could endure


our sense of tomorrow alone abides




























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Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Sunday, August 15, 2010

To Mr. Roger Waters



To Mr. Roger Waters




"Mr. Waters" I said as I gave you the letter,

outside Radio City, as you arrived for your show;

a verse some would think cryptic, calligraphed by hand,

more than twenty-five years ago.



"All form and no substance: Why?

"If you keep giving us only a show

"we are going to stop going.

"Is that what you really want?"



You offered no pretense; My

Letter opened and read and reread before

seeing each other seeing

the elevator doors excluded my gaze from your thoughts



Since communication, if honest, is surely a treasure

(& since soon both of us will be dead)

I am asking to meet with you -- but not as a fan:

I ask you as poet instead.

Saturday, August 14, 2010

a poem by a faust: as a youth refused & ridiculed by those beautiful, popular, and rich



innocence alone
or, in a world of strangers


profoundest of desires deep inside to lay you bare
& taste passions whose assumption is divinity
but walls and masks and games before you'd let me touch you there
& I'm not old or wise enough to be who I will be

Words I've said and haven't said visit me like lies
like vague approximations even I don't understand
the closest and most honest of them still a thick disguise
a touch Divine and brilliant yet eludes these clumsy hands

Maybe I won't weep because i acted amateur
& pushed you farther still before we ever really met
you may think the effort wasted, me I'm not so sure
I only know I have to try: there's nothing I regret.

& maybe you won't notice if, with all my art & soul,
I try to make you laugh & gasp & turn around & feel
an act when truly genuine is more than just a role
we'll all be actors anyway
with practice I'll be real



























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self portrait with cage




























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a poem written by a faust in eleventh grade







eleventh grade

(or, on days like this, at times like these)

the creases between my eyebrows
refuse to go away now
i used to believe in my -
self -
but forgot how

faith died with romance, but
melodrama
was last seen, quite alive,
with no one that i know

and it seems i can't turn pain into pleasure anymore

insatiably i hunger after each hour
but the days pass as quickly as before

reason has left
me the need for reasons but
blissful ignorance is
all-too-rare;
the creases grow and even 
though i want so much to, still,
i am unable
not
to care.

©1982, rev 2010
































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a poem by a faust about a wikileaks video



in response to wikileaks' 'collateral murder'

recently men and now women (experience)
uniform strength (dis)
service (sat) and those fronting as (is) such
not yet quite but almost no really
perhaps
or
itchingly (faction)
ready
trained to be eager (no questions)
playing
(have five to six individuals with AK-47s)
video
(request permission to engage)
games
roger that you are free to engage
joystick (quick) button (dead)
is it
is it
is it
easy and effortless as ever it was to
(find out that now)nice shootin' (now its real) thank you
(over)



wikileaks video
here


























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augenblicke


Since 1930

























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power if certain questions if now

























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a poem by a faust about the other answer for the Sphinx


the fifth power of the Sphinx

(or, a creature, with feathers: that chooses to remain)



.'.Joy.'.


...see a life left a chance yet a present perfect as surrender to new


.'.Love.'.


always already the only foundation upon which will the Great


.'.Work.'.


be as good & as easy as is energie infinite & as beauty is True


.'.Will.'.


birthright Divine of innocence Human: even in sorrow, to know we can see...





april Q dawn

















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