DC Vision Poetry III


it is the undertow
of matter
and its enticements
that keep me
deaf dumb and blind
when i do
i do nothing
but sleep

if i try to fight it
i return to the dream
because like it or not
a body
with six hundred million years
worth of genetic experiences
extends from my being
sucking potential creativity
into its appetites

we can dance this mystery
every moment
until we sleep
then it becomes
a melancholy aftertaste
death is not thy enemy
unconsciousness is

~ DC Vision



time has accelerated so much in my lifetime
i wonder if clocks are truly keeping up with the pace
is there some poor sap in a windowless room in charge
i wonder if there is someone manning the breaks

one day we were figuring out how to tame electricity
next we were discovering we were composed of the stuff
soon we will be riding the lightning to other worlds
and i am treading water within these stacatto rhthyms

the times have the feel of approaching a stress point
perhaps a big bang that will punctuate worried words
we are passengers on the same fog engulfed platform
waiting on a punctual train that may have already passed

most likely i will be at peace on that december day
death and enlightenment are immune to calendars
like a man sitting in a rocking chair on a rocketship
the journey is a mixed bag of exhaustion and acceleration

~ DC Vision


Dark Day of the Soul

anything that can go wrong
will be seen as naive assumption
those black clouds that were gathering
a mere prelude to the epilogue

watch the holy people cry
as each one is being cast aside
in the consumption of the day
who will be left to defend love
when everyone is drawn the other way

the born agains
and again and again
projecting the blame
refusing the same
morality a myth
spoken of in shame

faith reduced to a fashion
belief a topic in passing
acting on principles
just acting
and expecting accolades

I am your witness tightly wound
with neither foot intended for the ground
not distracted by the deafening sound
of you not paying attention
of you not even trying to

I am this spark of life on fire
singular in the battle for my desire
receding from the dulling
rejecting the way it is
available when my time has come

I am calling back to You
You that lit up this journey
You that resides so distant
You that speaks so silently
You cruel cruel light of the world

I am up to my neck in failure
I am down on my knees in the dirt
I am starving for a sign of deliverance
I am full of the lies that bind us
I am empty
I am empty
I am empty

~ DC Vision


Hey Kid

hey kid
don’t let that smile escape
hold it as long as you are able
try and remember the ease of which it fits
expanding beyond faces and summer afternoons

there may come a time
when something as simple as a smile
may become a word in your history book
so hold on to it that the ink never dries

hey kid
savor the way Lisa looks at you
with those blue eyes deeper than a boy’s thoughts
love is insanely pure before a girl ripens
so delight in the notion that it is briefly your’s

there may come a time
when waistlines are no longer measured in inches
when good looking requires tri-focals
when a girl’s puppy love is replaced
by a woman’s dismissiveness
so hold on to the way she thinks that you’re her star

hey kid
I envy you those trips
explorer of the woods behind your parents’ house
how long the days seemed back then
pockets empty of coin and mind free of electronics
boredom was a foreign word
nature and an inquisitive child indistinguishable

there came a time for me
when the trees became catchy names
for subdivisions and strip malls
when children and nature became strangers
when children were plugged in like appliances
monitor-drugged eyes and fidgeting fingers
fighting zombie wars and embracing filth
on chinese plastic tumors

hey kid
hold on to all your coins and love and smiles
your future may be expensive but not expansive
if you embrace our species’ loss of innocense
and become one more anxiety-ridden man
with sad eyes fixed on simpler days long past

~ DC Vision



I sit on the fence by my lonesome
watch the overcast skies blow astray
as the sun sets you get to enjoy the silence
and life’s ambitious addictions fade away

I have been witness to this parade
of all my miscast coins in the well
there’s never been a shortage of pennies
just uncertainty of the hole that they fell

some people overly scrutinize their pasts
I just try to keep my balance on this fence
who needs the weight of self estimation
and the passionate wound it represents

I’ve been a chameleon of characters of late
and pace my performance for signs of escape
it’s difficult to look within and not withdraw
when no appealing answer to life takes shape

I now know there is more to life than death
it took some living to see what it was all about
you end up with experiences in cardboard boxes
and the supply of closet space eventually runs out

~ DC Vision


Without Quotations

leaning closer over the vanity
to get a better glimpse
of the lighted reflection
of the outermost layer
of an agreed upon

I do not possess a name
and I do not lay claim
to that slowly receding body
It is just a means to experience
there must be a seperation – a

what can really be known of each other
as attention spans continue to wither
If the conversation is not about
then where is the attraction
to warrant an investment
of self interest

already knows your ability to make
the destination that all verbal roads lead to

just between the reflections
lost in thought in this bathroom
both parties
pace the floor
one of them
with cold feet

~ DC Vision


Brother Take Your Mariner Journey

brother take your mariner journey
ease out with the downeast tide
where the waters meet the sunrise
cast your earthly burdens aside

you leave me mourning ashore
I am able to shed real tears
for another traditional islander
has lost his salt to the years

~ DC Vision


One Pill A Day

the medication
suppresses the brain
so I can find me in the anxiety

the effectiveness
this weight is nearly over
tranquility worth waiting for

over the hill
I’m taking the pill
and the lines are rewriting
themselves on my face

all of the seeking
thousands of truths
it did not mend my mind
it did not afford me peace

one pill a day
makes me this way
empties the thoughts
lets me know how little I know

I am amused
about this revelation
to the point of happy
to the shores of enlightenment

bless the chemist
I’m taking the pill
swallowing the science
into the belly of my world

~ DC Vision


Left Behind

I am alive in this hunger
you are hungry to be alive
faith is not to be testified
no freedom leading or following
how can there be understanding
walking in another’s shoes
perceiving through your own brain

you are on a journey
with uncomfortable traction
spouting a language
pretending a liberty
liable to be a liability
when the shoes and the beliefs
are returned to their owner

Alone I destroy this mystery
what do you hold in your hands
you jumped into it with nothing
and you leave just as blessed
if all you find
is what you found
left behind

~ DC Vision


The Empty

the empty you left in your wake
these particles and waves of you
that will never again materialize
your essence is rapidly fading
memories too fluid
to find traction in existence
one by one they dissolve
as your death sinks in

I can not relate to the empty
I am forgetting what filled
the time of entanglement
this pain in my center
the only evidence
I embraced a connection
the garden of loveliness
that grew and spread from it
I am lost as it sleeps
underneath the cold ground
in this cruel winter

the empty my sole companion
words of solace
touches of hope
remain outside of my ability
to relate to life continuing
I can see the mouths move
I can imagine the empathy
but I am a long ways down
in this experience
to pay this awful price
to feel this wonder drain
the value of knowing love
becomes apparent in loss

~ DC Vision



I am witness to love
embrace your silhouette
from a chair across the room
even in sleep you reach
unconscious for my body
as the shadows and light
make a story across the floor
I sit here amazed
that you trust I am your grace
someone to surrender
and offer yourself to

in the early light hours
most mornings I sit to watch
the rise and fall of your rhythm
a level of intimacy
beyond my capacity
of showing how helpless I have fallen
fearful if you should awaken
the tears would never cease
I know how rarefied is the air
for those who find themselves there
a place of no more searching

the dim light of dawn
filtered through the gauze curtains
lets me see beyond the form
the sound of your breath
settles like the house into its own vibration
so close has our heartbeat become
I know the moment your eyes will open
and slip completed out of the room
then you will seek me out
as the most needed ingredient
eyes still half closed
and I will wait
hoping I am worth it

~ DC Vision


American Straitjacket

when I took my last road trip
in exploration of my terrain
I offered up my cynicism
albeit with some measure
of reluctance
but now I call you out
to prove me wrong

because I am always
one asshole-at-large
away from peace
if there is usefulness
in my discovery
let it be my currency

within the boundary
of a mass delusion
where everyone is driven
to make a buck
and spend a buck
in the consumption

in your suv’s
with those jesus fish
and american flags
and flavor of the month
colored ribbon stickers
you’d run me off the road

in your holy march
of narcissism
pray for my soul
because I cannot
manifest enough
self righteousness
to master this treadmill

I need ammunition
to blast my way free
from this cartoon repetition
predictable scenery
that blurs just behind
the main characters
in american straitjackets
smiling until they pop one day
into glorious headlines

~ DC Vision


Ink Inc

this is my blood
my episodes with mental illness
my battle with cancer
my nicks and bruises of stumbling
my loss of memory following birth
my fear of death following me
wrapped up in an interesting skin

this is my sweat
the meaningless of employment
the addiction to titillation
the days melted into years
the need for change
the occasional ability to create it
the journey with it on my back

these are my tears
of needing to be alone
of crushing loneliness
of burying too many loved ones
of holidays spent solo
of birthdays without witness
i’m a dichotomy of honesty

i’m trying to find peace
buried in a mountain of opinions
of what peace might be
being told what to think
while discovering how to think
i’m writing it all down
incorporated in ink

~ DC Vision


Hunger Pangs

framed in the monday morning drive through window
the new girl appears a sweet improvement over the last
lighted eyes over brighter smiles over easy yolks
has elevated and inflated my week of breaking fast

smitten seems a just label to pin on my composure
the act of passing change takes a sensual course
but no matter the hunger to bridge the gap in closure
that wedding ring on your finger is a formidable force

so i drive to my corner of the city center commuter lot
chase my meal down with the dream of love as fiction
confused by vibrations our building affection has brought
while that golden band and diamond causes untold friction

every morning this tension builds to some awkward display
love has always had a way of freezing my courage in place
friday morning the wedding ring has been pocketed away
my awareness of this brought a different look to your face

your eyes belie there is more than a meal to be had here
my long stare of longing trumping my ability for elocution
like a man trapped in a drive through lane i paid with my fear
electing against my hunger not to sample the day’s substitution

monday morning i will break a new fast from a new fastfood menu
my meals cannot become more complicated than i can digest
but for one week your smile uplifted my workday mundane venue
return the ring to your finger while i return to what i know best

~ DC Vision


An Open-Palmed Caught Miracle

you sparkled briefly just for me
being the final witness of such delicate mathematical perfection
my little atmospheric singularity
i was blessed by your arrival in this wintry moment of grace
as your form melted in contact with mine

an open palmed caught miracle that met its demise in my inspection
a hundred or a thousand feet or perhaps even more you made form
and embodied solid possibilities of divine art frozen

if a snowflake falls in this world does anybody here catch its loveliness
in wonder of wonder itself
i did and for a brief moment was absolutely enchanted
your little unique dance and descent and death
invisible to all sentience save mine

~ DC Vision


What Goes Up

what goes up must come down
but what would it be like for my life
if it were the other way around
somewhere between offal and awful
waiting for a green light
hoping for an updraft
straining for a good view

you are not as tired of my voice as i am
do you think i relish the role of complainer
i have genetics stacked on my shoulders
a british isle disdain for anything pleasant
soggy expectations
magnets for clouds
superfluously parboiled

i’m tossing calendars onto funeral pyres
grieving over the lackluster passage of days
why does living feel so much like dying
what happened to the animating force behind my face
i’m a disposable punchline
a worn out laugh trax
an album in the bargain bin

i’m pretty sure i passed the bottom a while ago
how deep does this amusement ride descend
my pockets are nearly empty of one-liners
what audience is left are squirming in their seats
avoiding eye contact
muttering niceties
feigning interest

meandering aimless i may still have a few surprises left
like when i learned how to walk without a foot in my mouth
trying to decide between hapless or hopeful for breakfast
most mornings i forget to eat and dream of a deep sleep
among motivational pillows
comforting memory foam
obsolete alarm clocks

somebody or something wake me up before i fall asleep
this isn’t a movie or a situation comedy i would sit through
and it is killing me that i have the featured starring role
this is not what my happy ending is supposed to be like
i signed up for a miracle
a unique dispensation
something to remember

~ DC Vision


Poverty Bliss

no matter how enlightened these eastern masters pretend to be
anyone can live a life of ease when their disciples meet their needs
get a real job brother and let me know how being awake feels
in the west where fuel is currency and health care a luxury

you are going to ache and toss and turn in sleepless beds
with the same mental diarrhea that parties in all of our heads
your dusty disciplines are obsolete for these troubled times
we don’t need escapism from responsibilities or our crimes

i’ve tried juggling brilliance with obsessive compulsive disorder
which has afforded me the label of a combatant boat rocker
finding the answers to the meaning of life is highly overrated
if the bills keep coming and the belly fat pills stop working

poverty sucks much better than this pricey vacuum cleaner
what would happen if i just let the dust and dirt overcome me
i’d be just another fool buried up to his neck in home ownership
that has no time for anything more involving than the crap on tv

in a moment of pure bliss i pick up the little buddha statue
that has had a free home on my coffee table for years
do a decidely uncool jig over to the stainless steel trash can
and introduce the master to his newfound american temple

~ DC Vision


The Mechanics Of The Moment

everything fits
the bills are all paid
the sun is out lovely
got plenty of time

mondays don’t frighten me anymore
six day work weeks are a breeze
i’ve been loving my new home
the cats adore me unconditionally

catch myself smiling
catch myself singing
catch myself peaceful
sleeping like a baby

and this is driving me completely crazy
when is the sky going to hurry up and fall
too much ease is easily difficult to fathom
this is not normal to me to be normally happy

aiming the bullet for my foot
delivering the foot into my mouth
mouthing anxieties walking the floor
sweeping the floor until it splinters

half of me craving silence
half of me needing to scream
i can see the genes rumbling
father of peace – mother of chaos

~ DC Vision


Slower Traffic Keep Right

i am driving in a clarity dappled moment
the traffic becomes a game of shuffle
passing by a sign takes on significance
as i enter into a level stretch of my life

somewhere sometime maybe someplace
i entered a nuanced lane in the road
between the anxieties of youth behind
ahead into the wisdom of maneuvering

there is a justice in making wise choices
i gained freedom to be whoever i manifest
outgrowing now the fear of my self image
gets a luxury of tripping without baggage

the mileage i’ve gained in comprehension
are lost to the pages of armchair vagabonds
but without the bang of codependent clocks
i can imagine a day driving in the slow lane

~ DC Vision


Locked in Echo

the glass ceased being half empty
it fell to the floor generations ago
shattering on hard circumstances
and we are walking around with shards
and fragments keep surfacing
you shed your body and burdens in autumn
but spring never made its debut for me
i keep putting miles and months behind me
but you are riding shotgun over my will
and no amount of contemplation
no amount of knowing the truth
has afforded me the luxury
of letting go of your dream

~ DC Vision


The Myth Under The Fridge

in rapt attention watching yoki
in rapt attention keeping her vigil
waiting out the cricket underneath the fridge
her patience is epic
insect tourists have met unfortunate ends
crossing into feline territory

chinese myths of crickets bringing luck
she yawns in disdain
she’s got stories of her own of how daft asians are
many a siamese got aced like white toast for her breakfast
you can swagger when you have nine incarnations to spend
crickets only have one if they are unlucky

yoki does her best hypothesizing
hunting excessive legged creatures
many a scientific theory has passed her synapses
forgotten later in the joy of the chase
and the catch and the torture
and the body parts strewn like summer clouds
across carpeting

i am in awe in her lack of awe for infestations
me i have a genetic fear inherent for anything
that exceeds four legs
which might explain why yoki gets such a kick
leaving carcasses in and on my bed
then sits patiently awaiting the scream
of a 13 year old girl coming from a 42 year old man
it’s worth the wait especially if the lights turn on
and i spend an hour taking the bed apart
for fear of hidden colonies

cricket enjoy your brief reprieve
and take care of your immediate future
so that i may get a rare quiet night of sleep
i wish you all the luck your species seems to lack
when coming into contact with yoki

~ DC Vision


Eponymous (The School Shooter)

i cannot
measure up
or compete
to what everyone values
as beautiful
as interesting
as wanted
i cannot chase down
what makes you
acceptable normal
i cannot relate
to what it feels like
to be a puzzle piece
in its place
i am a walk on
an extra

if i behave
i will be
i know my place
in the hierarchy
don’t make the
desirable ones
i don’t know
when the script
i have lived
became too blurred
but i know
portraying predictable
is obsolete
and dismissing me
it costs you your
naive sensibilities
it costs
the evening news
its vacuum
it costs
future generations
nervous glances
at the unstable neighbors
walking amongst them

in the moments
after the trigger
is squeezed
and the loud cracks
shatter the false
sense of routine
the lifeblood
gets displaced
and i am transfixed
i am alive
in slow crimson motion
the fear in their eyes
is like a drug
three shots each
into the light
let me lend you
my name
for this day’s
top story
a mystery
for the media
at least
a week’s worth
count on it
you will
remember me

~ DC Vision


Buzzed On Another

I am
your witness
at the peripheral
I am
buzzed on you
entranced by you
without the walls
watching the dance
of your being

this is love to me
this is ecstasy
the taste
of your movements
absorbed in you
and whatever
you are doing
whether it be writing
or daydreaming

I am buzzed on you
until the spell is broken
when you feel me
feeling you
and turn
to look at me
and ask

~ DC Vision


Open Wound of Silence

what’s left to say
when nothing has been spoken
these throwaway chances
are stifling me
our lives are more honest
out of sight
trapped in our minds

we stand apart
within an open wound
of silence
with averted eyes
lost in our lack
with nothing shuffled
nothing new
and no will to action

there is life here
its surface so shabby
that it draws attention
to everything
but itself

~ DC Vision


Host With The Most

you parasite
you descended
on my pickings
like a horde
of crack-addled
squatted in my
took control
of my remote
my long term
memories of privacy
are fading beneath
particles and waves
of ‘you’ noise

blood red crimson ‘X’s
mark the days
off the calendar
my sent-a-mentality
merging on morosity
the host with the most
i am a guest
of the guest
of the house

~ DC Vision


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