Sunday, August 17, 2014

"I promised Michelle I wouldn't write to God" and other poems by emerging writer Brian Clarke.


I promised Michelle I wouldn't write to God

I've been bathing in
invisible rain -

do not ask me
why
the rain is invisible

in fact,
do not ask me a thing

'cause I still need
to comprehend
the nature of nature

and she says
it's cold outside
and I say
it's only a sensation
like every other one

then we make our ways
down the train platform

it feels as if
months have passed
since we got out
of the car

so I ponder on
how some ideas
are just too holy
to get anyone's attention

but there we are,
waiting to say goodbye
as if we aren't profound
enough to think of
the rest of it
and if you try to put it
in the back of minds

it will eat you whole
it will hide in the vents
it will make you feel

empty

.






Step 1, 2 & 3

I don't need your
carbon copy handouts
on where it all began.
we see it in the paper
every morning when
flipping through with
smoke fresh on fingerprints.
so let's be civil and
count our carpet stains
before the eviction notice
sends us into frenzies
to ship our windows
to where the air
can't find us.
it's what happens
when so much time
is spent strolling in
frozen food aisles
searching for somethin'
permanent.
don't you see?
we are museum exhibits
and we are never
going home.

but for all those
who can't seem to
get away,
build a wall and
walk around it then
look it directly in the face.
yeah and make it know
it would be nothing
without the dirt
from which it was conceived
& next just walk.
walk away
while keeping its memory
as a reminder
and solely
nothing more.

oh,
when you come across it again
only after traveling the entire distance of the earth,
push it down and keep fucking walking.







Classified (Do Not Read)

let's disregard the news and run marathons for our pleasure catching the frenetic breeze like we owe it to ourselves and we can even watch our faces decay at the speed of a snail being consumed by LSD because we see the trails but can't really prove them let's reconfigure our brain chemistry so the sun is always shining when we step into the ether and come to remember it's expected of us and maybe pain is a technique nestled between our toes that we try and forget but end up spewing blood all over the sidewalk where we played with chalk marking our place on this earth with such effortless finesse so put on your sandals and walk quietly into the streets of this dream only you can fully see as a scam it's much better this way you know, without the unnecessary fabric we can just be ourselves the way it was meant to be before our idols started worshipping false ideals and stopped believing in the power of free will the kind that tells you "it's okay" with a passing glance and a partially full glass of gin you can inhale the vapors and get away with a passive grin it's the nature of the beast but at least we can fall asleep and crave slipping into the sheets like we never have to leave and this goes on for half of the day even though we ignore it as it's something we don't say why don't you listen for a second? let me evaporate while I keep it in the head and don't let anybody see the sparks though every time my mouth opens it's simply an expression of how much air I can intake without giving it back 'cause God forbid I need to explain myself to someone other than you


© Brian Clarke 
All Rights Reserved






About the Author: Brian Clarke is an emerging writer and this is his first time to appear in a publication. He lives in Arizona and divides his time between music, writing and cultivating a sense of humor. You can find him at All Poetry and on Facebook:  Brian Clarke