Posted by sdoubinsky on 23 April 2008
Their feet shake the ground
and the teeth in our skulls
Their gigantic arms
send dried leaves
whirling around us
Their laughter
booms enigmatic
like deep thunder
Who are they?
Who were they?
Nobody knows
and nobody
really cares
because the first
buds are blooming
and birds are a-singing
and the overweight champions
just become mountains
on the horizon line
very blue
very far away
EL SEBBO
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Posted by sdoubinsky on 17 April 2008
A government ruled
by well-meaning bourgeois
is still a government
and it is still
ruled
by
bourgeois
EL SEBBO
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Posted by sdoubinsky on 7 April 2008
What I remember
are images
The words are gone
and live a life of their own
They never call me nor write
but the images
are still with me
and sometimes
I do wish
they would pay rent
EL SEBBO
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Posted by sdoubinsky on 8 March 2008
Eros is sore
EL SEBBO
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Posted by sdoubinsky on 5 March 2008
Delicate
isn’t my name
and yet I am moved
by the imbecile
gently led by his father
down the street
while screaming songs
at the top of his head
I am moved
by a white cloud
standing still
over the city
like a gentle threat
I am moved
by your breath
gently lifting the sheets
deep in the night
when I can’t sleep
Yes delicate things
move me deeply
and confirm
the rage hidden
at the core of my words
The rage of impotence,
hope and rebellion
- but not despair
Despair, you see,
is too delicate
for me
EL SEBBO
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Posted by sdoubinsky on 1 March 2008
but we sure wish there was
EL SEBBO
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Posted by D. James on 27 February 2008
I shot
the box
of Rice Krispies
stabbed the
Fruit Loops
and strangled
with bare hands
the Raisin Bran
Now
there’s nothing left
for tomorrow’s breakfast
(D. James)
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Posted by sdoubinsky on 26 February 2008
My ear is shot
Haven’t slept in two days
and here I am writing
this miserable poem
Is it friendship pushing me
or just poetry’s bad junk
shaking me up and down
and never letting me be?
EL SEBBO
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Posted by sdoubinsky on 23 February 2008
no candles
but fireworks
no explosions
but roman candles
we have written pomes
for one good year now
we are very tired
but our mouths are still
full of spit, tongue, stones
and words
no firecrackers
but live ammo
no funeral pyres
but a feather
of the Phoenix
EL SEBBO
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Posted by sdoubinsky on 19 February 2008
The white veil of morning
creeps around the house
The birds are black notes
and their song hang frozen
in mid-air
We drink coffee in the kitchen
and I want to tell you something
but your words erase mine
and I forget what I wanted to say
and there is no way you can help me
and we laugh it off and another mouth
replaces my mouth with different words
forming behind the seemingly same teeth
although they are actually a few seconds
older
EL SEBBO
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Posted by sdoubinsky on 15 February 2008
My children play
with wooden blocks
red blue yellow
and green
They build towers
and smash them
laughing
like typical
humans
A reassuring thought
somehow
The blocks
await in the sunlight
waiting to be
piled up
and thrown down again
like typical
humans
Not a reassuring thought
somehow
EL SEBBO
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Posted by sdoubinsky on 13 February 2008
Went to a party last Saturday
and all evening I wondered
if my fly was open because
the zipper was broken or because
I was too stoned to zip it up
Time to quit?
Hell no
EL SEBBO
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Posted by sdoubinsky on 11 February 2008
Free
is a
four
letter
word
EL SEBBO
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Posted by sdoubinsky on 7 February 2008
The blue of the sky
crashes through my open window
and a few birds sing
to welcome the first rays
of the sun
Everything is still
except for the millions
of radio waves
spinning around us
like in invisible killer bees
and I say
to the wall
my chair my desk
the open window
the blue sky
the birds and their songs
“Burn all flags”
as flags frame you
in what you are not
and never will be
- a model citizen
a model father
a model nation
a model nature
a model bird
a model sky
a model model
Yes
burn all flags
especially
the white one
EL SEBBO
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Posted by sdoubinsky on 5 February 2008
If I move
two inches
to the left
does reality
remain the same?
EL SEBBO
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Posted by sdoubinsky on 24 January 2008
Reality is not what
you make of it
Reality is what
you don’t want it to be
EL SEBBO
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Posted by sdoubinsky on 19 January 2008
The sun rose today
but I missed it
my eyes still blinded
by night and punctuated by stars
The sun rose today
and I didn’t
preferring to ignore
the glorious colors
to the monochrome black
The sun rose today
and I didn’t care
as I embraced
a lovely shadow
slightly smelling
of cinnamon
EL SEBBO
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Posted by sdoubinsky on 17 January 2008
A clap of thunder
in a clear blue sky
or the strange reflection
of something not quite there
are our daily mysteries
so sit down
have a coffee
read the paper
and finally
accept yourself
as the ultimate mystery
goddammit
EL SEBBO
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Posted by sdoubinsky on 15 January 2008
Hanging upside down
I finally see the world
how it really is
EL SEBBO
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Posted by sdoubinsky on 11 January 2008
Hermosa corona
shining high above the clouds
just out of reach of my wanting fingers
Hermosa corona
beautiful face wrapped
in silk and gold
you could be a vision
but your materiality
drags me down
Hermosa corona
if only you could
be a poem
a word an image
and disappear
as soon as
you were pronounced
Hermosa corona
I wish I could could
hold you in my hands
but they are tied
behind my back
and praying won’t help
Hermosa corona
your indifference
is truth
your glitter
wisdom
and your power
death
Hermosa corona
I run in circles
after myself
please let me
have you
please
please
EL SEBBO CORONADO
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Posted by sdoubinsky on 9 January 2008
The re is no mystery
in an open hand
but as we walk
our teeth grow back
into our gums
and our bones
shatter like ice
We try to laugh it off
but a howling wind
comes out of our lungs
and specks of our blood
decorate the sky’s blue cupola
There is no mystery
in an open hand
but the closed fist
hanging over our heads
is following us
like the shadow of something
we knew or thought we knew
EL SEBBO
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Posted by sdoubinsky on 1 January 2008
Q: Why can we always feel when something bad is going to happen but never something good?
A: Because there are more bad things than good things happening to us.
Q: Why are there more bad things than good things happening to us?
A: Because we are cursed.
Q: Why are we cursed?
A: Because we are free.
Q: Is freedom a good thing or a bad thing?
A: It is a very good thing. That’s why we can’t feel anything.
EL SEBBO.
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Posted by sdoubinsky on 28 December 2007
Drink
as much as you can
Speak
as much as you can
and in the outer limits
of your words
will you finally
be yourself
EL SEBBO
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Posted by sdoubinsky on 22 December 2007
This is another place
my friend
and we are becoming meat
The ships have sailed
and the planes have left
their esoteric signs
of the sky’s blue wall
We didn’t ask to come
and no one invited us
but we are here
and it’s definitely not there
This is another place
my friend
and we are becoming meat
Some of us are hungry
and some of us are sad
I am lucky to be loved
You are lucky to be blind
The poker tables are full
and smoking is allowed
This is another place
my friend
and we are becoming meat
Don’t thank me for our journey
It wasn’t the one that planned
There is a toast stuck in the toaster
and the flames are raging high
You left your coffee untouched
and outside the sun is nodding
Everything is familiar
yet none of it is mine
This is another place
my friend
and we are becoming meat
I guess we could say goodbye
or greet each other in tears
there are many wars out there
their fumes obscuring our lungs
I guess I should say I’m sorry
but I have yet to learn these words
This is another place
my friend
and we are becoming meat
EL SEBBO
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Posted by sdoubinsky on 20 December 2007
Like love
strength
is a potentiality
the coiled steel spring
the flexed muscle
the fluttering of an eyelash
a laughter
gas in the tank
like love
strength
is
somewhere
between
you
and yourself
a shadow
as faithful
as shadows
can be
EL SEBBO
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Posted by sdoubinsky on 14 December 2007
Those
who fear loneliness
have never been
alone
EL SEBBO
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Posted by sdoubinsky on 12 December 2007
’s like quicksilver rolling in the palm of your hand
a strong card with many colors
a woman who can stare you down
a poem you thought long forgotten
’s like a spot of darkness in the middle of light
a sword in a merciful hand
a shameless kiss on the mouth
something you miss but you don’t know why
something you miss but you don’t know why
EL SEBBO
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Posted by sdoubinsky on 10 December 2007
Words
are
yours
to
keep
EL SEBBO
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Posted by sdoubinsky on 6 December 2007
reality is still the hardest drug
EL SEBBO
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Posted by sdoubinsky on 4 December 2007
Yeah!
What happened?
EL SEBBO STRANGLERO
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Posted by sdoubinsky on 30 November 2007
Fuck work
fuck school
fuck power
fuck god
fuck you
fuck me
fuck it
let’s dance
EL SEBBO
Posted in bad haiku, bad poetry, bad sex and bad breath, birthday poems, literature, overweight champions, poem, poetry, seb, snuff poems, the queen of england, writing | 2 Comments »
