September 14, 2006
Underscores and Underlines
Getting way out of here
What's to fear
Shards of truth coming out of your ear
These things are like thoughts
Words are for naught
At least for the next year
Sipping last past
Makes great for the cast
But all you ever find is an eyelash in your beer
Glue is not needed for things not seated
Come fun rain or shine cant be beated
Whats truth for the lie
Underscores and underlines
What you've paid for in dimes
Comes out in the end
As Free
As Breath
As Bread
As Fortune
As Dirt
As Air
As Time
As Face
As Fine [.]
Posted by Joe Sepi at 01:48 PM | Comments (0)
March 03, 2006
Here and Away
I've gone away
To where the music is the dust
that rides upon the wind
And if the sun shines you're happy
If it's shadows then you're sad
It's the only way it is
And it's all we've ever had
(Here in this place)
He's gone away
To the corners of his mind
A perfect emptiness inside
And they say what's yours is mine
So we don't need no warning signs
Here in this place
I've gone away
To where nothing matters most
Except counting the fence posts
Along the roads that take us home
We could take a little time
It's seek and you shall find
Here in this place
Posted by Jon Olmsted at 05:02 PM | Comments (0)
January 17, 2006
got burn
got burn
fun round
got spurn
gut wound
list worst
un down
this hurts
not now
what next
burst foul
bits text
brunt jowl
dis joint
numb limb
once out
is in again
Posted by Joe Sepi at 04:04 PM | Comments (0)
September 10, 2005
Night Sand
A night at the beach. A beer and some wine. Some pups and toys. Waves with swimming. Conversation and sitting. Light smoking darkness away from traffic. Sunset on the sky, clouds and birds pull a dog’s eye. Boot scoot and boogie. Slippery rocks, stumble out. Monkey mouth hound bites softly when unexpected. New Jersey stories sound true to the movies. Surfer Guy grabs glasses to make us all elegant, but almost loses the bottle below the wet shelf. A night easy comes without plans when wet shorts end up hung on the stairs.
Posted by Joe Sepi at 05:24 PM | Comments (0)
August 06, 2005
building
silver solvent reads like text you wrote.
i like your shoes and your matching coat.
great believers of this burning goat.
ain't it enough to make you
SHOUT!
Posted by Joe Sepi at 09:17 PM | Comments (1)
August 02, 2005
Turnswitch
It's like someone kicked the bucket
That leads to every stream
And the bucket was full of poison
And now we've seen enough to see
It's like nobody was looking
Like we set reverse alarms
If no one gives a damn
Then it can't do any harm
Numb entries and numb exits
Give way to absent life
If there's a chance that you can get it
Then why not even try
Posted by Jon Olmsted at 10:16 AM | Comments (1)
July 01, 2005
fold neatly
hows a man supposed to get around
with a yellow can keeping him down
and a melon sized wrist
where his hand meets his fist
always swinging and bringing him a round
girls cant fix
the good lords tricks
and a dog cant walk you round town
this is said all but true
posted via web from me to you
great words can never make do
some less
more best
love more
least move
legs file
pegs groove
more cheese
gone less
work smile
fold neatly
beach i'll
fill completely
does this a while
score one to beat me.
Posted by Joe Sepi at 06:55 PM | Comments (0)
May 15, 2005
Tripping the Ride Fantastic
Blue Ridge Parkway by 10 am
Southbound breezy sunshine grin
The ride gets up and stays halfway high
Plans form loose to hold am I
Sounds like a ride to remember
From fender to fender
Great graceful glider
An old hello
And a whole lot more
From Roanoke to Winterville
Nothing still is nothing more
Heels feel wheels
Tripping the right fantastic
Stick shift fist
Radio bliss
All this
...unmissed
Posted by Joe Sepi at 08:45 PM | Comments (0)
April 07, 2005
Who's Phoo Ling Hoo?
Like a mailman on the run,
Like a typesetter having fun,
Like a needle on a headstone,
Like a man and a wishbone.
Things are fine, even when they're not.
Posted by Joe Sepi at 10:55 AM | Comments (0)
April 04, 2005
Yesterday
His life was but a prayer
With a humble amen
placed at the end
The final word finally heard
Like a rock
that spoke for itself
Kindness has a strength
that never (ever) hurts
Tears of joy will wash
up on these shores again
Tomorrow
Posted by Jon Olmsted at 12:17 PM | Comments (0)
March 09, 2005
Hank
I'M HANK by Hank
I listen to Bearhawk when I'm de-shanking live pork.
I listen to Bearhawk when I'm turning veal in the backhouse.
I listen to Bearhawk when I'm working the cowhammer.
I listen to it all the time.
Posted by Jon Olmsted at 08:45 AM | Comments (0)
February 02, 2005
In The Pocket
Word has it
Right where it needs it
Got it
Good
Go get Religion
Now
God is in your spine
Posted by Jon Olmsted at 02:56 PM | Comments (1)
January 21, 2005
a way for a while
Right to the ways and the rules of the world
Put on some Hitchcock and slip past the guards
Muscles are tense from everything
You hope for a wind strong enough
Captain Fantasy battles Mr. Know it All
A moment when your words meet your life
The burritos wont be half as good but that's just too bad
Run away with your bad self
A mountain holds you dear
Bring your guitar so you could at least join a cover band
Wont be half as good but that's just too bad
More cowbell and hope for hand claps in time
Don't forget to write down what you think
It doesn't have to rhyme
Posted by Joe Sepi at 10:58 AM | Comments (0)
January 05, 2005
poking holes
a breath of fresh air comes into my lungs
and i am thinking again
all sorts of ideas on the tip of my tongue
just say when
waiting for time to make up it's mind
i am already then
like ducks in a truck speeding on by
or a tree with wings in the sky
like poking holes in the night with a stick
the stars fill the sky pretty quick
and with three girls so cute
and my new year's suit
i can get home with a wink and a kiss and a smirk
and write silly little poems like this at work
Posted by Joe Sepi at 09:03 AM | Comments (0)
December 27, 2004
christmas witches
some crunchy toes by the fire
some sleepy nose running
beer in hand, deer in sight
glossy bossy eyes smile
a murder of crows
a box full of bows
christ must have felt this
give the gift of giving the gift of giving
sump pump my love heart hole
and run the pipeline to your face
so i can see you twinkle and wink
hello from up high
in altitude and spirits and times
grumpy lumpy no more next door
christmas witches and lore
Posted by Joe Sepi at 07:35 PM | Comments (0)
December 09, 2004
the meaning is glacial
Glitch this night with a fake quarter in the slot
Spaceship gyrates with displeasure from this false thought
The rumbling sets off worry and regret
A light on the dash says "look out" but there are no windows
An empty shell with only me in it hurling towards disappointment
Blasts of shining gas aren't enough to guide me there
My extended re-entry is wrought with mistakes
And yet the lifeline is still blinking, asking me if it is necessary
And a shot through the gut puts this machine into shock
Stop and listen, but space is silent
Even in this desperate moment, clutching is still the least that can be done
But an accidental release makes for pressure to dissipate
And for once in a great long time the sky opens from black to blue
And the descent turns gradual
And the meaning is glacial
And our dreams become translucent
And the light is warm
And negative space becomes positive
And the rain cleanses our vessel
And the stars implode gracefully and politely into themselves
Instead of the usual self-centered outward burst
That lets you know they were there
Spreading their debris all over everything
Like we care
Only enough to kiss the ground
And to shed this blank stare
Posted by Joe Sepi at 03:06 PM | Comments (1)
November 19, 2004
Uptown
This town's down. All its power in one hand left dangling toward the ground. Bunches of flowers like rockets in craw, we swoop down in broad strokes like darkness in the morning. Creating the feeling of having direction and growing the thoughts of make believing, this is our time. This is the moment to end all moments and give birth to forever. Sound system provokes light refractions that belie our eyes. A gift of rushing emotions battling themselves for attention makes wanting more than wishing. And I alone am wishing more than dreaming, but things change rapidly. Virtually being in a world of unknowing is like actually floating in a sea of change. The stream flows against the current leading all the streets to uptown.
Posted by Joe Sepi at 04:19 PM | Comments (0)
November 09, 2004
Sounds Aloud
Sounds around thinking aloud
Bunny ears on the head need adjusting to channel
Crushing blows fill sails to flow
Singing a song keeps us moving along
So much away so little today
Time to make a Not ToDo list
Better check that one twice
Life's a foot and your task is at hand
With baggage in tow you move a head
Arm yourself with teeth and tongue
...and begin to move around.
Use all your senses like sensei's.
Posted by Joe Sepi at 09:50 AM | Comments (0)
November 05, 2004
Wage
Sitting here lookin' out my window, thinking I should place a bet. The sun has not risen yet, today. Put it all down on the sun. And double-down on tomorrow's...just that it will show. It won this place over a long time ago. And it might be one more over that gets me by. Come on, come on ol' rise'n'shiner. We're in the homestretch now. Not one cent you rely on. The currency is now, and it is worth exactly that. Give me a pocketful of what I risk, if I should not be burned.
Posted by Jon Olmsted at 05:46 AM | Comments (0)
November 04, 2004
The Smalls
Why would our guy win? The minority must fight. This
is our roll. Our biscuit. This is our place. Our niche. Our quiche. I was not put here to ride the winner's
wave. Now I know what it's like. No white. I'm in with
the smalls. You, me. Lots of folks I know. Every other
color you thought you weren't. No more room. The giants
will crush their own hands. We'll spend time in a new find. Seeking harder, well rested from the past. Awake losers. It's us.
.
Posted by Jon Olmsted at 09:33 AM | Comments (1)
Medium-sized Unfunnies (J. Mac)
Try to be an easy person when hypocrites define morals. Go ahead, try. It's a series of medium-sized unfunny jokes. I want grandchildren who will not attempt to swallow this. I want the swallows to have children who are grand. It's not so much the loss, as it is the gain of more shuttered years of gloat-gilded smirks. Be prepared, friends. It's coming and now. And How.
Posted by Jon Olmsted at 09:26 AM | Comments (0)
November 02, 2004
breathless
Today a breath is held close like clutching
Tomorrow to exhale so sweet
Something to look to unknowing
But hope is laid at our feet
A thought of things to pass
A glance as they do
More will be made in History Class
We will learn again i'm sure
Me and you and me and you
Looking back and forward too
Posted by Joe Sepi at 03:53 PM | Comments (1)
October 28, 2004
Tsurt
Perhaps now a component, formerly unseen, of what powers the heart of
the beast in this time and place.
Check Please, yes!
yes yes.
Posted by Jim MacGregor at 06:40 PM | Comments (0)
October 25, 2004
the world is our toyster
Without Not,
Reach across.
Not without,
Abreach alone.
Something Not,
Left will grow.
Not something,
That we know.
A smiling screaming reach,
For the world is our toyster.
Excited
and far from exited.
Posted by Joe Sepi at 11:18 AM | Comments (0)
October 19, 2004
out to see
we wait and bait for future great
hone the hole and call it home
culminate and salivate
we wait and bait
we wait and bait
waders and waiters are we
to sea to see
to sea to see
climb on board and hold for wave
to say good bye
to say just why
this is our way
calmly, intently, purposefully
a hole with motion and water is ocean
we wait and bait ...we wait and bait.
Posted by Joe Sepi at 09:15 AM | Comments (1)
October 13, 2004
Four the Record
A lack of clarity in a world of noise.
Posted by Joe Sepi at 11:31 AM | Comments (0)
October 12, 2004
I'mPlode
Do what you do
And crash the shore with more than you knew
You could
Hold anew
And bring the thing that makes you
You
Burn your thoughts
Like a match between heaven and here
Posted by Joe Sepi at 11:58 AM | Comments (0)
October 08, 2004
Quote from Fig
"I've forgotten more than most have learned."
adaptation:
"I've failed more than most have tried."
Posted by Joe Sepi at 03:04 PM | Comments (2)
October 04, 2004
Lay claims
Dented cement, cold in the light lays out a path to the space.
Crusted Camry brings me to a home from home.
Remember grey slacks?
These things and more are what cleans out the store.
Hey, really... You have to help me understand something.
A grandfather clause brings us into the room.
What gets us out is up to you.
As a member from before, I remember now.
Ante up to the table with a pile of crash.
Great claims be laid and pinned on a shirt of plaid.
Did you say it wrong? That was my intent.
All day long I dream about short movies.
Ones where I drive and sing and take a bat and swing.
That one's outta here. This one's out there.
Created and modified and adjusted and dated and finally, completely changed.
I can't remember paying this much for gas.
Go figure.
Posted by Joe Sepi at 04:10 PM | Comments (1)
September 30, 2004
this is the perfect spot to rhyme the word "yearn"
What's the point when everything's dull?
Why go to sleep when the night is null?
A swimming chance to see the moon?
A fleeting glance at something soon?
I don't know.
I mustn't know.
If I knew, then i wouldn't be writing this.
If I knew, then i would hardwire bliss.
If I knew, then I wouldn't chance to miss
everything anything and the in-between.
So I surf. and sometimes i don't.
but everyday i am less green.
and everyday i know more of what i mean.
and everyday i learn more i need to learn.
this is the perfect spot to rhyme the word "yearn".
Posted by Joe Sepi at 03:31 PM | Comments (0)
September 27, 2004
Got Up in the Tub
Gamora emerges
I say hello
I ride his glide
To every side
Ump yells safe
From the shoreline
Hear his call
Mount a wet ball
Try to stall a squall
Turn a toe
Toward the monster
It emerges
I say hello
Go parallel
With the slide
Posted by Jon Olmsted at 09:43 PM | Comments (0)
M.I.A.
This is the word missing
Like lost action gone
This is the world fishing
Taking vacations on.
Listening to glistening
Pure blank this thing in
A sparse hole empty and alone.
Gone is the thoughts like hair through a comb
Thinning and grey today and tomorrow.
Yesterday's canned food borrowed.
To be eaten but not savored.
Lost but not gone.
i hope.
Posted by Joe Sepi at 11:01 AM | Comments (0)
September 23, 2004
mathmagicians vs. mathletes
nothing > us
noone = you
us / anything = zero
but zero can = alot
many * something > everything
if you can't have it all.
sum thing will do.
creation.
one.
all.
u & i...
Posted by Joe Sepi at 12:22 PM | Comments (0)
September 21, 2004
Sea of Pearls
Shine Sheen or Gleam
say something that you mean
Do little more than nothing
Than keep your body clean.
Great Show Shark
on the edge of dark
Keep a little something
Flourish from the stark.
Posted by Joe Sepi at 01:39 PM | Comments (0)
September 20, 2004
Let the Blank Face's Smile Be Your Mirror
"Assign a blank face to every goal, and aim to make it smile. And then let the blank face's smile be your mirror." -Blank Face
Posted by Jon Olmsted at 08:54 AM | Comments (0)
September 19, 2004
apparently soon
luck eludes misfortune
my toes are happy in the sand
whistling a little show tune
with an itch in both hands
Posted by Joe Sepi at 04:23 PM | Comments (0)
The Weathermen
Giant high pressure, there is one on its way,
Fetch and retreat, as water sets weigh.
Push the tub clean on one side for a night,
Then blow hardy, blow, straight backwards with might.
Don't crash, just advance, between you, lay glass,
A monk's pipe is anothers, behold for alas.
Soft and inviting her speed caught with ease,
The higher the floating, the cure of disease.
So, watch, check and then, watch, check and then, watch for a day,
A day for the memories, a forecast for play.
And, fuck an owl.
Posted by Chris D'Alessio at 03:02 PM | Comments (1)
September 18, 2004
Waveland
Waves that move me
In and out.
Time of blue
and metal too.
Crashing currently smooth.
Get underneath feeling.
This is my morning.
This is my wake.
This is the way
to breath, to float, to guess, to know.
Posted by Joe Sepi at 06:56 PM | Comments (0)
Wiff
Here it comes, here it comes, gone, then 3 of them.
Up and over, operate, pinch the log while it's not paying its heed.
Lead, when a leader is folding in your toes.
Blast, when a memory is brewing two cups for Mundelein.
Fold, never, ride.
Posted by Chris D'Alessio at 09:18 AM | Comments (1)
Welded
I will rust in the pounding surf of the Hurons
Robotic driftwood
Emerging from sullen waters
Art has escaped from the nearest museum
9-1-1 for cameras
No time to pause for fevers
The constant noise of misbehaving nature
A Hercules at the shoreline
Pondering overpopulated turf
Sinking into the blue and orange
Twenty feet out
Staring back at the math
That could never be written
Posted by Jon Olmsted at 06:49 AM | Comments (0)
September 17, 2004
Born Home
Rifles toward the sky to shoot soaring songs up high.
Take them down one by one to be hung ...on my wall.
Significant mothers of our bornhole ...on call, waiting to be unheard, let go and listening to leaving.
To trees who are always leaving, we say hello to their good byes. Good try's.
Thanks for effort, for without it all there would be nothing.
click track packages on their way home.
Find a hole and be born.
Born Home.
Posted by Joe Sepi at 10:57 AM | Comments (0)