Sunday, March 30, 2008

Inspired Madness

All that is dust
will glitter in their eyes
all that is broken
will be whole once again

The voices
ceased their chatter
a long time ago
as long as the darkness
surrounds me
I am not alone--

Poetry smears the page
like tears falling on green ink

fingers crossed,
we dance on our own graves
because on paper
we live in the forever country

cherry trees stretch up
into the grand blue reaches;
poetry, fallen, layers
lying lush
is the dirt that nourishes them

take one more step toward me
and the night will tumble around us
as this world on a spindle

already our clothes are mountains
on the floor next to the dimming light
of our so-called better judgment

chips fall where they might--
pick up the pieces with me
and poetry will be born tonight
and all the million other nights
that will know love
when it sees it.

Top: Does this really need commentary? I think not.

Middle: Going with the 'Loony' or Lunar theme, this is a close up of an area on the darkside of the moon taken by a new satellite called Clementine.

Bottom: The Dark Side of the Moon.


singleton said...

"as long as the darkness
surrounds me
I am not alone--"

And in these halls
and on these walls
the writings go on and on....

You are never alone, my friend....

Enemy of the Republic said...

Singleton and you are of the same soul family in case either of you didn't know, which I highly doubt!

Poetry smears the page--I love that line. Did you see the movie Into the Wild? It is by far the most poetic movie of 2007; the last movie that matched it in grace was The Hours. I think you would really like this film. said...

If I still had my literary magazine, I would surely publish this poem.

i beati said...

you are sweltering in rhjyme here sir-better than ever- a high point read for me always

Donnetta Lee said...

Morning, Eric. So enjoyed this poem. You are a born poet. I think I've been walking on the dark side for a while! Hey, what's this? Why, the sun is coming out!

Leigh Russell said...

See you on the dark side of the moon, blogbuddy

Crushed said...

Mortality sems to be on your mind.

Maybe we blog to try make our thoughts live forever.

My slleve to Dark Side of the Moon loks different. I think they had several versions, because the sleeve I have for Wish You are Here isn't the one my mate has.

The Moon is add, the far side looks so different to the near side- no seas.

Princess Pointful said...

I love the images of darkness and dirt as sustaining. As, clearly, are these words.

Sorry things have been quiet from my end. Life practicalities are getting in the way of writing... well, not in the way of writing per se, but the type of writing that I enjoy (which is not the type that, say, spend 40 pages discussing the commonalities between efficacious treatments for borderline personality disorder. Sigh.). Happily, we also found a lovely new apartment to move into soon-- so the time not spent writing for un-fun is spent sizing up bathrooms and so forth. Anyways....

Thank you for the lovely poem. What a delicious ending. It is as though writing is the lemonade when life throws you lemons.

Ant said...

Was somebody holding your candle when you wrote this?

Paul said...

All the classic Eric themes rolled together in a swirling word dance, cool,

Cléa said...

I'm drawn to the optimism of the first 4 lines.

skinnylittleblonde said...

As Always Eric...sensationally beautiful....All that is dust will glitter in their eyes... the dimming light of our so-called better judgement reminding me it's not always what we see, but what we think we see...p&l dear Eric!

benjibopper said...

aha, now i know how you spent the lights out hour! this sounds like some fun.

she said...

so much to love about this poem.. this story

these images

"to picking up the pieces -and writing it down!" cheers & love, ~s.

Lana Gramlich said...

Oh, and nice poem, too. ;) *L* I love the ending.

Marissa said...

i really love your poetry.

Charles Gramlich said...

Especially liked "our so called better judgment." been there, done that.

JR's Thumbprints said...

It's when those voices keep on chattering that I become disturbed.

Ultra Toast Mosha God said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Ultra Toast Mosha God said...

'Our clothes are like mountains'

Then the people rolling around in bed must be like gods, somewhere above those craggy fabric ranges.

X. Dell said...

I think that top photo is what you see of magic mushrooms if you're on magic mushrooms.

"fingers crossed,
we dance on our own graves
because on paper
we live in the forever country

One of the curious things about media is that they extend our existence in a very real sense. People making silents over 100 years ago are all gone. Yet they live. So does the poetry of the Brownings, and Shakespeare.

One of he benefits of being human.

captain corky said...

"All that is dust
will glitter in their eyes
all that is broken
will be whole once again"

Very hopeful.

Anonymous said...

Poetry in intelegent ...How you writing brings me a step close to sky ???

Edyta said...

I am soooo happy that i wasnt wrong, just before reading your commentary, i thought about Pink Floyd's Dark Side Of The Moon, which is amazing.

Its just amazing what you say about poetry. And the final line just grabbed me. Poetry is love. Deep deep love.

benjibopper said...

uh oh, don't tell me you went and got a job again?

Behind Blue Eyes said...

I'm still waiting for the truth to prevail. Thanks for stopping by my blog, I've been such a bad blogger lately.

singleton said...

Is it snowing again?

Maithri said...

So beautiful.

Peace and love bro, M

Todd Camplin said...

It has been a while, but once again, my visit is always worth it.

maleah said...

Man I love the mountain of clothes on the floor. Yep.

distractedspunk said...

Clothes like mountains, hands down best line in this piece.

Cazzie!!! said...

Miss u Eric.

Crashdummie said...

"Top: Does this really need commentary? I think not.

I'm going with magic mushrooms.. was i right? What do i win ;)

Blancodeviosa said...

cherry trees stretch up
into the grand blue reaches;
poetry, fallen, layers
lying lush
is the dirt that nourishes them..

you know i've always thought of dirt as un-clean. too often you forget of it's nourishing value. maybe i should eat some.

Ultra Toast Mosha God said...

Yeah, I think Eric has another job.


Huge poetry, huge.

come back soon.

morbidneko said...

why green ink?

gel? or ballpoint?

enquiring mind(s) want/s to know!

KarmaLennon said...

Omg, I fucking love this! And I LOVE the first photo-you should see my kitchen, I have a thing for shrooms. Oh, I've put up some new poems on Fantastical. Hope you've been well! Hugs!

Edyta said...

Where have you gone?
Hope you're well :)

Lana Gramlich said...

Things seem to have gone quiet again...Hope all is well!

lance said...

As always, your poems probe the deepest parts of your soul. So refreshing how you put these thoughts to words. You always make me think even after I read your poem once,twice, thrice, etc. I come away with a new layer of meaning.

she said...

know better than to worry this time...

thinking of you ~look forward to your creative return

love, ~s.

eric1313 said...

You can't see it, but I'm crying over your words. Everyone.

Thank you guys for all the love you've brought me.

And no, it was worse than a job. I've had plenty of them and wrote all night long. I don't really want to regale you all with tales of being homeless for three weeks, so I won't. Besides, there's nothing to say, not really.

I'll be here as long as I can.

Thanks for listening to my ramblings and lines and drivel and occasional flashes of quasi-brilliance.