Latest items:
Anthony DiMichele, 26 march 2013
urban solitude
I am under a light
everything I want is a cheap fake!
drugs sex power money miracles…
there’s a line for you…
keeping an eye on that thousand foot smoke stack in the sky…
all ahead went fuzzy…
behind it was dark as ever…
bent down doubled over in a struggle
for animal warmth…
hard roads make of our royal labors… labor…
be humble
or revel in a future that looks
token green
over the irises
the garden still delivers
like threads…
Anthony DiMichele, 3 march 2013
who is beautiful
you have to be short for a guy
misshapen and ugly
as if your face was made with the flat
side of a shovel
in wet cement
to lurk openly in broad daylight and mean it
unintentionally
suspiciously
while every caress leaves you feeling
secretly filthy
and your doppleganger is out there
looking to deal with the devil
who is beautiful
white and expensive
no not us we say
I wish I were green
or striped like a mandrel’s genitals
I would lay baskets of poppycock before goldilocks
you just have to be ugly
small
to key the boxcars full of you know who
going you know where for you know what
to clear nostrils on red carpet
or valet service for a ufo under a carport
don’t go there
once you have seen one and talk yourself out of it
only to discover you are a liar much later
you revel in the freedom of hair coloring
hand-me-downs
even ghetto was begotten
by the same sow
huffing a cocktail
mixed by a slave
oh yes
yes
smaller and uglier even
Anthony DiMichele, 8 august 2013
humdrum
everything is humdrum how we like it
nothing going on here
in the cosmic drama
the trees surround the house and beg
for permission to believe in our enterprize
the remains of other characters on the barbeque
are being smothered in smoke
you will miss the point of my life
missionless decency
unfolding inside a spectator sport
make a place for yourself
among the anonymous multitude
it is said
you can part them like wheat
Anthony DiMichele, 21 july 2014
namaste
I bow to the spirit in you
with a lower case pronoun
the first person singular
agenda
dissolves
into everything
a plurality
ironically a unity
bonding us in our chaos
without both of us in each other’s way
*
don’t be negative
when your head
is buried
in the
sand
you are already one
dying
to be two
and so on
through
the entertainments
the fears
the day dreams
that can sometimes
remember
the sky inside you
*
we pick at our defects
as with scabs
always in a hurry to heal
to accelerate its natural pace
to be perfect
again
and be able to smile
with our original face
*
Anthony DiMichele, 20 may 2014
Astonishment
“I no longer want to be astonished.”
A declaration made by Antonin Artaud during the last
years of his life. When I read this I was astonished.
Why did he even bother to write this down at all?
Could he imagine the effect it would have on a reader?
The impossibility of living without astonishment
is terrifying to challenge. Is that what we amount to? Terrified
slaves to wonderment? Bewilderment domesticated?
The codification of self-delusion?
All the myths of deathlessness lead to the preposterous posturing
of civilians who adopt the attitude of happiness as a strategy
of denial. Happiness has become a Cult with vast numbers of adherents.
To live without conscious awareness of death is like being unaware
one casts a shadow in the light. Dreams have become consumer rubbish.
Dreams and Death go hand in hand into the forgotten Shadow’s land.
*
Anthony DiMichele, 25 march 2014
Farewell
There is a heart
behind this shield of fear
with its aura of hatred
pain and ambition
commerce has nothing to do
with the gift
you gave me
at the office
and at home
you probably caught me
red handed
in a dream
or two
over the years
the gift of time
with the trees
and herons
the collective solitude
of song birds
singing farewell
with joy
at dawn
if we could only unchain
ourselves
from ourselves
and not insist we all
suffer the same way
to live
through a lifetime
singing a memorized song
I will not build my own coffin
around me
with salvage wood
from the dumps
of despair
the material is light
the essence is light
but we are most often
heavy with impossibility
I have no quarrel
with squirrels
or the other absences
which I stopped reading about
accounting for
in an instant of lightning bugs
and they were gone
from the landscape of childhood
this is my folly and fondness
and most high regard
not the meditators and commentators
but those who know how do what they
always knew
let go
move on
and give away everything
to follow nothing or no one
but some strange feeling
within
there is a heart
here
under the grays
that knows no fear
the lowering everydays
we put past us
there is an island with a heart in it
a sun with a starless night in it
and friendships that make ordinary speech
a miracle
*
life is always astonishing
Anthony DiMichele, 28 september 2015
we were warned
I remember to remember
a hail storm on a motorcycle
it took me
it shut me up
thunder and lightning...
hurricanes that broke glass
and bent the trees back like Odysseus
bending his bow
a flood that had huge sewer rats
swimming down the street like they owned it
and a pregnant muskrat with an arrow through its head
and a turtle on fire
and we played in the clouds of insecticides
sprayed from above
we were warned
but we were kids
it was magical
and defiant
Anthony DiMichele, 29 october 2015
The Beginning of Everything
The Beginning Of Everything
now I think I will bite the blue ice in the toy box
with an ocean of maturation
cat whiskers in chains
a bridge from the harvest to my face
that storm tossed ghost ship
that solo cobbled together
with tales of longing and a few clouds in passing
wish softly sister
the mad world is a light dancer
nameless colors cascade into a red lake
urban homesteaders fly by in a fog
shaken lovers stir the city
with a loaf of bread in full bloom
baked with dynamite
what time is nighttime tonight?
tango with the black widow
or talk to the ventriloquist in the mirror
it is sunset's day off
it is the beginning of everything
again
*
Anthony DiMichele, 8 july 2015
love poem
I love you shamelessly
and quietly
directly and immediately
here and there as you come and go
*
Anthony DiMichele, 8 july 2015
just for laughs
I see many points of light in the dark night
fires in the void
as if the void loathed itself
a white wash in a black hole
I too would call
it from inside it
no
no message
I call again
and again
just for laughs
and their echos
*
Latest comments:
4 may 2024
Weronika
Boli bo rektoskop to nie gadżet analny, więc
4 may 2024
Jutro jest niewyrażalne i nie do odgadnięcia.
3 may 2024
violetta
Drzewka do jedzenia:)
1 may 2024
Tak;)
1 may 2024
kb
złotej*
1 may 2024
kontoler żłotej poświaty
1 may 2024
samo życie, każdy swoje brudy ma, lepsze czy
1 may 2024
romantyczny to romantyczny, prawdziwy taki
1 may 2024
ten ketchup to fakt, trzeba przypilnować przy
1 may 2024
interesujący przekaz, jak dla mnie o własnej
1 may 2024
ucieczka z przewidzianym powrotem to też stabilizacja...
29 april 2024
Nie jest niczym podyktowany:)
5 may 2024
Satish Verma
4 may 2024
absynt
4 may 2024
kalik
4 may 2024
wiesiek
4 may 2024
Satish Verma
3 may 2024
absynt
3 may 2024
wiesiek
3 may 2024
Satish Verma
1 may 2024
Satish Verma
30 april 2024
Satish Verma