You made a fist, instead of a hand.
They couldn’t relate their own heads, hearts
Thieves. There was no other way to die |
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Category Archives: Darryl Price
Threesome by Darryl Price
Filed under Darryl Price
Unintended by Darryl Price
The wash of something blue into the red of something The movement of all living things rushing together towards another legs?But not alone. Never alone.No. All things continue and it becomes the season you are in.Consequences happen |
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I Took My Blind Spot by Darryl Price
Out for riding and Oh she did jump the Such that the little Themselves several |
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Another World by Darryl Price
wants war with another world. it with us.There is no room for assume God wants anything to |
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broken shells by Darryl Price
They do not come to life to live for a purpose. They often can be seen slowly carrying around their little sunken empty heads like practically torn in half purses full of pretend money. No amount of cash now is ever going to stop them from being stepped on by the big disposal’s iron toes. They are not completely blind. This is the sad act. Things have long ago run out of their ears and into the out of print bins. They aren’t even dead yet. They just are missing something, something like a wall, or a hip, but what is it? What’s that name? There’s a word for it.. They’ll never be done up pretty all the way again or refurbished and thrown back out to sea. No one will want to move in upstairs again. It’s best to leave the whole thing over to some friendly fishy ghosts. Who knows they may end up playing cards for a century or two. Give the place some semblance of a huge wave having been through there once upon a time. |
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Crowd by Darryl Price
You can’t get out of it, but you can feel out. They or not. The problem is this choice thing that asks you questions instant insult. You are not playing mirror. No one wants to see |
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To the Core by Darryl Price
Of the core we go because the core has been compromised. |
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She just happened by Darryl Price
to be playing the hell out of telephone pole was sputtering uptop from being rains came and the door banged open and off the bridge when she lit the last |
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The Money’s by Darryl Price
The Money’s gone but the |
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Long Distance by Darryl Price
Here’s the thing. I never thought you’d
Sorry that we are no bigger than
Die in our veins, but also clouds |
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Border Town Dawn by Darryl Price
Border town meant the middle of was at away in either is wanting and got up again appearance. there a moment fact just surprised. to do my duty sometimes friend. Man, okay, you can’t I’m no good at |
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The Bad Haircut by Darryl Price
The Bad Haircut would not make friends itself upon until it’s has already grow on you.And |
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SoApS iN tHe SiNk by Darryl Price
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Long Lines by Darryl Price
Long Lines are moving past me again. I’ve been invited to We end up in the same place anyway. Not it is. We are a destructive bunch. We’ll consume breaks into the most beautiful downstairs windows you’ve ever they have a right to not get involved. But those who took the brutal blows so that we |
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Unseen (a Five-Pointed Star with Four Streaming Lights) by Darryl Price
What you see us doing is not thinks of women as cattle. We only with everything. To dance is to mean dreamers dreaming in infinite space, even bodies ancient trees on the arms and legs It is not a religion. It is |
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The Last Time by Darryl Price
we met you wanted to nightgown. How am I dilapidated |
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The Lucky Guy by Darryl Price
My lucky number is mushroom.
My lucky number is bat. My
lucky number is pear. My lucky
number is Milky Way. My
lucky number is cricket. is
cloud. is seahorse. Is learning a
lucky number? I think it is.
My lucky number is waterfall.
My lucky number is dragon–
which is timeless but also
untameable so really it
just might be zeroed out. My next
lucky number is daughter. Then
there’s poem–in which we are all
allowed to say I love you right
out loud and mean it. You get it.
P.S. My lucky number is
mercy. My lucky number is
Beatle. My lucky ones come with
their own regiment of angels.
Filed under Darryl Price
We are not responsible by Darryl Price
for airplanes that lose their
precious bombs like someone’s been
careless in spitting one rotten
tooth after bloody rotten tooth
all over the greenest of
forest grounds like saliva covered
seeds with no more thought
to the consequences below the
radar than to the awakening
hunger pangs of yet another
dying day for the poor
disfigured animals who used to
be gently drinking children or
for the murder of ancient
and wise guardian trees in
the night for starved dogs
who forever endure their tortures
Filed under Darryl Price
Sleep by Darryl Price
Sandcrestbladeupsidedowngreen
Clearcloselivestherethere
Thereherelightlightspeople
Mushroomstreesstarshousescows
Nobiggerthansandsalt
Gogoingwanttobe
Inbothplaceslikerefracted
Trianglesofcolortracingback
Andforththemiracleof
Usallofusall
Thingsthereisnounseeing
Onlyunbeingonlyunkindnessinstead
Ofairwaterearthhoney
Dripsoutofeverypore
Likethebestsexever.
Filed under Darryl Price
I can’t wait by Darryl Price
for romance to be accepted as the natural order of things. for the stars to reveal
their white hearts to us. for trees to finally move a little faster and join us. we are after
all causing the earth to die. lucky for us death is different for her. it is not a sleep.and
is not melting away. it is coming back to life from blackness, from stillness. we
are the only ones who want forever to be forever. everything else is finding new ways
to dance among the stones. the sun is not an only child. it loves right through the
night. its morning is connected to each morning. that’s better than forever. we’ve
always only had each other. but the shadows who make the illusions that bind us here
would much rather we spend our days cowering under the roots
of a gnarled sky than pitch a tent and celebrate that it’s raining. you know.you’ve
always known.
Filed under Darryl Price
Allergic Reactions #1: the Sun by Darryl Price
Well I too woke up and outside there was the shining sun
literally smashing itself against the window like a crazed yet determined yellow
bird but it just couldn’t break through the little rows of shuttered
blinds like it wanted to. It would hit and fall and recircle
and try again over and over again. Okay, I said, I guess
I’m up. You can knock it off now. I stuffed the rest
of my sleep under the pillow for later. The usual things followed.
I opened the door and there the sun tried to stick its
huge foot in but it still couldn’t enter the house altogether. I
got in the car and the sun immediately clamped down on the
silver top and beat it with its fiery fists until I turned
on the radio. This seemed to scare it away to some distance.
However it continued to glare at me from behind several boulder shaped
clouds. These clouds in turn were trying desperately to roll away and
gather against some other part of the sky. The sun hung on
with all ten fingers. I rolled down the window and none other
than the wind reached a hand in and tossled my hair about
and then swam on beside the front tires like a friendly dolphin.
The sun poured on the heat and finally the wind went beneath
the pavement and stayed there. I pulled up to work and got
out just as the sun settled on a corner of the old
building like a vulture looking disinterested but nonetheless a little bit hungry.
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Filed under Darryl Price
Red Meat by Darryl Price
Red as an eye blinking in disbelief.
Red as a mistake you should have
known better than to make. Red as
a moment in a photograph where you
are looking in the wrong direction. Red
as a gift lost in the sand.
Red as a meeting between a man
and a goddess. Red as a letter
curling into its lamenting dream for the
last time ever before the transformation to
ash. Some are only living as blind
fish in a cave of commercials. They
eat theirs with a well-done tongue that
sticks itself out begging for more. Some
are fatter than the stars. While others
are teetering on the brink of repulsion,
picking up the slick plastic edges with
two delicate fingertips at a time. After
the dump it becomes more paper meat,
pink but still red.Still flying bone.
Filed under Darryl Price
The Union of Opposites by Darryl Price
Oh look there’s a very tall one with
a squatting toad, not in a bad way,
but in a hey wait up you’re walking
way too fast for me to keep up
with you today kind of way. His feet
slide over the surface of the earth like
he’s on skies while her feet punched the
earth with jagged holes every couple of steps
or so and seemed more like tiny machinery
ready to give an oily cough or two
and call it quits at any moment. And
yet they dragged on together. There’s a beautiful
hopeful smile with a sneering less enchanted grin.
Boy is she in for a big surprise.
It’s her birthday and he’s completely forgotten her
name.He’s a lumox but she’s always loved
big animals.She squeezes his arm like he’s
a favorite stuffed bear hearing a secret thought
right before bedtime. And here you go there’s
an old gut who’s been up and down
the river a few times surely by now
used to three squares a day with a
prettified younger one who’s probably still trying to
keep the last one down for the count.
All of them seem to belong to each
other anyway. Okay just one more. The undiscovered
moviestar and the clueless cheerleader who thinks he’s
a smart dresser. He struts and she gaits
it but decides to give the long haired
boy a little soft at the corners look
as he rolls by looking for his tee
shirt, which he obviously must have lost somewhere
on the way over to the beach earlier.
Filed under Darryl Price
Cigarette(I just happened to look over) by Darryl Price
I don’t know why but it struck me
as something somehow very cruel
to see, this getting redder by
the second expanding ball of
fire like a hot saturn with its
many orbiting rings of intertwining
smoke keeping it from
completely exploding out into
the rest of the universe.
And then the flashing half lit face
like a black and white photo unevenly
torn from the pages
of a fashion magazine, or
a plaster head partly smashed and
hollow on the one side.If there
were eyes they were hidden completely
by a giant pod shaped hat
with something resembling boulders
or flowers in tied-together
balls cascading down the darker
side and into the canyons
of her car seat like a story
broken and silenced forever.
The sliced slanted shoulders like something
worn away and polished by
a hundred years of powerful
and ancient winds now keeping her
chin in precarious balance
by an act of sheer will. And then
the light changed.And she disappeared.
Filed under Darryl Price
Broken Signals Light Up the Sky by Darryl Price
Well it was really only a toy I
got for one Christmas when I was little.
But what does that mean when it worked
perfectly well for its size?For the size
of my hands? I remember how it came
in a cool looking tan leather case inside
a neat little red cardboard box. I loved
the whole package.The white molded plastic piece
it sat locked in like an unbelievable secret
discovery waiting to show you its powerful use,
never before seen by man nor beast. The
box it came in to me was as
perfectly wonderful to behold as the thing itself
with all of its shiny chrome moldings fitted
snuggly around the tiny machine it actually was
like racing stripes on what looked like some
kind of really well-made wallet.I have no
idea what the other material was–paper,leather,
cloth? I couldn’t tell but it kind of
felt bumpy like I imagined alligator skin might
and it made a little sticking sound that
reminded me of paper being torn, not in
half, just torn for a second, when you
took a picture.All pictures were only in
black and white of course. You had to
send away to have them developed, and to
buy new film. And that’s what happened. All
of a sudden they stopped making that film.
Filed under Darryl Price
The Balance by Darryl Price
comes to us naturally. We know how to play even
when all play has been outlawed. They can bomb us
day and night with everything they’ve got and still something
will make a toy with us. Whenever you start to
look around you start to see too much. One can
only stand between the warring factions for so long and
try not to belong to anything false. That’s why we
dance like maniacs. We know somewhere out there the lost
and lonely are crying in an all too familiar voice
for merciful justice. That’s why we sing out loud, we
prance in bright laughing colors, we climb impossible reflected buildings,
we jump and jive,we dive with blue whales,we
rock and roll.The sound we make is our beacon.
We send it out because it’s free with our love.
Filed under Darryl Price
Lovelies on the Beach by Darryl Price
or rolling out of the sea’s
open palms like little sleepy diamonds
they all look the same, some
different colors,some different sizes, but
the more you look at them
they seem to differentiate. More and
more come in all the time
and by then one can’t help
but start to feel a sense
of lonely loss for them, half
buried in the sand like remnants
of another civilization beyond the waves.
Filed under Darryl Price
The Sleepwalker as Map, the Map as Sleepwalker by Darryl Price
It doesn’t matter what it was the middle of. It took each and every one by the nose away from where we were standing but it didn’t disappear us, except as one ink might disappear dissolving into another. We stained each other’s lives like squirting grape juice. Even the breakdown of the precious paper molecules appeared to be just another secretly written out chart to unknown locations just outside the present situation’s experience. Sometimes the map presents itself as you go. Look. All you had to do was to walk quietly deeper and deeper into the places that you dreamed until you arrived back in your own hometown, another summer come and gone. Suddenly we were colorful again. That made us both laugh.
Filed under Darryl Price
Little Worlds by Darryl Price
Little worlds got up as usual and stretched her crampy palms into a tiny shove against the big fat day already trying to sit on her face that usually meant nothing more than that she could use three more minutes of camping next to her dreams because she thought she saw something slightly unusual bobbing out on the river’s edge and she really should check it out as it just might prove to be important to the future’s hours after all.
Filed under Darryl Price