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[dwim]

just working this out... let me know what you think-dwim

I want to call this place my home/ among the man who dared/ enough to starve/
among the women who dared enough/ to kiss a rose/ and she calls it/ poetry of the moment/ flowing into the rivers/
polluted...

I want to call this place my home/ paradiso reaching towers/ the concrete burning black/ here/ I can never feel alone
here/ I can never feel the heat/ blasting in my face/
my refuge from the cold

There's a night/ calling my name/ there's a voice/ asking me to stay/ there's the pull/ pulling me away/ & my heart will soon regret/ the pleasures that/ it has allowed itself to feel/
guilty as charged/ your black robed honor...

a lady walks down the stairs/ creaking/ her plans for silence ruined...

A young girl steps out of a heated car/ her face facing/ an unforgiving cold wind/ lips chapped/ & no chapstick/ she's carrying/ an underground chapbook/ knowing the words will burn/ like fire...

Her necklace/ bohemian style/ begs that the wearer/ be treated like a princess she is/ a queen she will be/ in somebody's heart/
she's all that/ & more to come...

Everything is the same/ everything is different/ I wait/ (tho tired of waiting)/ for them to change their minds/ thier minds are stubborn
I found this out/ listening to their spirituality/ the spirits are waiting too...

Somebody stomach is grumbling like a lion/ matches are burnt/ flint is the enemy/
the roots of hunger is fire/ & the fire will come/ over the fields of wheat/
& the ambers of grain/
starve...

I think a lot/ about the people that/ walks by in the cold/ bags carrying cans of food/ a few less hungry mouths to feed/ one less rock-n-roller wannabe/
one less whatever wannabe/ deosn't matter/
just one less mouth to feed/ there's magic in those canned foods...

There's a sign that says "babe" in bright red latters/ with neon flashing like a border/ like hell is flashing/ temptation tempts with a flash/
for the lonely souls to flock to/ money in their hands/ sitting in the dark
the stripper takes off her top/ the devil got a nice grin...

The nights lay in wait/ for the darkest hour to come/ lots of tired workers/ are either getting off work/ or waking up/ rubbing their tired souls/
& wonder how they got there/ in the first place/
another cup of coffee/ another smoke from cigarettes/ they sit at the diner/ wait for the minutes to tick until/ they punch in/ they sit at the diner/ & agreed over bacon & eggs/
the trick is to get through/ that darkest hour before the dawn...

Another lonely apartment/ another sad man/ sits & watch the commercials on the television sets/ & never figured out/ if they're trying to sell him the product or/ the woman trying to sell him the product/ he waits/
for the news program/ to come back on...

the cupboards are empty/ the mailbox left unchecked
this is the door/ I don't want to open/ I like my feet on the heater
The strangers walks in the hallway/ visits to the neighbors/
the world out there calls my name/ like temptation/ like neon flashing/
like the mystery out there/ that why I answer/ & found loneliness/ & learned how/ to stand alone/ in the cold...

I saw too much/ & so I/
crash down...

Down to this warm bed/ a voice singing in the kitchen/ the little things that matters/ like a simple smile/ in this refuge from the cold world/ say "Good morning"/ then tell me to eat/
There's the moment/ like this one moment/ that I don't want to be anywhere else/ there's the moment that/ I am right where I belong/ there's the moment that/ I feel I know what I want...

I want to stand up & testify like
the spirit moves you in the churches & synogogues like
everything is left to the faith like
the times you once felt as a kid believing in Santa Claus

I want to break free of the chains &
stand on your own be independent &
break free of the chains & be with you forever &
find that one place to call home like...

I want to call this place my home
I want to stay here with you where
I know I am free

You are the woman who/ dared enough/ to write your name/ in rose petals/ like I am the man who/ dared enough/ to follow the flowers to this door/
& all that I want/ is one thing/ that I should dare enough to say...

I want to call this place my home.

[This message has been edited by dwim (edited December 09, 2000).]

[This message has been edited by dwim (edited December 10, 2000).]

[tyledras]

hey, i like this a lot, especially the last three bits, but the whole thing too. i like how it flows, and the images

[dwim]

Ok.. I just figured out that this poem is missing a verse.. the trouble of it is... I haven't came up with that verse yet.. so enjoy seeing the punch coming, then seeing some bad dude on the floor without seeing the actual punch landing.. a very bad cut up movie if you will...

[dwim]

Ok, just a note that I've modify it a bit. starting with "I saw too much..." Let me know if it improved the ending a little bit.

[tyledras]

hey, i like this version a lot too. it flows a little better in the middle

[Annie L'Etoile]

I hope that you don't mind... but I emailed this poem to my good friend Anna (dont worry i said it was by you and gave credit and evrything or whatever lol). So anyways, she's pretty much freaking out on me here, asking what guys write like this and blah blah blah. It's really sweet, but to tell you quite frankly i want to kill her bc i am getting kind of annoyed. anyways... she wants me to post (and more than gladly as i agree wholeheartedtly *least to say*) that this is wonderful and magnificent and amazing and intense and just bravicimo!!!!! it definetly... draws you in and keeps you there.

[dwim]

All the more reason I just gotta get a chapbook out...

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I try to be humble but this guy threw my greatness in my face! I'm trying to deny my greatness!

"Everything belongs to me because I am poor." - Jack Kerouac Visions of Cody

"my mind put you (dwim) in a graphic novel. or a cybernovel... something gibson-esque with a gaiman twist... paul mccarthy - virtual elves and chain-smoking demons on the internet, that sort of thing" - chilimuffin

[jones]

Yes, this is definitely one for a chapbook. Great, intense stuff -- sort of a story, sort of a poem, sort of an incantation.

take care

---jones

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"what Marie's not gonna do"
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