[x]

The comet of meThe comet of me

contrails are my past
vapors... partially remembered
burning away with the sun of today
whether I move or no

the power of twelvean extension of an earlier writing to a prompt about body parts:

I am brain, the rest is transport

I want to make the rest into
an early
lightweight
V12
Ferrari
with not one transistor in it

painted Italian Racing Red
12 explosions in every step
going nowhere
in particular

fast!

lookless leapingYour response so always measured
your control so ever precise
never a foot misplaced
never a cup of tea
dropped

Can you truly be the perfect hero?
A nevermaker of mistakes?
Didn't you ever learn even one simple accursed damned thing?

singularityIt was a country with no exit sign.
Nobody wanted one.

I ask you a question>
What sort of place is that?
And another>
Where can I find it?

vintageWe have changed more than they will ever know or understand.
We will escape, no matter how the locals try to keep us in their tiny little world.
We are in process. They have frozen on the vine.
Goodbye you sleeping, dreamless, sad blue grapes.
We will be the wine.

overcast - with pale thoughtI breathed out clouds
hoping they would rise
and write great things in sky
But heat of breathing billions
vaporised all sense and beauty
The sky became a mere grey haze

everyone should write this poem:
i've left the universe
well enough
alone.

whatever is speaking,
whatever it knows,
untouchable
now;
the dark matter math of uncolonised dreams,
inactualities
like the moon
in the millpond.

i was bent out of worlds
in a thing.
i was counting;
a chronologist
dating hayricks of grotesqueries.

"oh,
how many times
will i
vermillionize
your touchhole?"

"how many muthering epiphonies
will wash up
like
bluebottles
on a beach?"

i will never have to know.

i am never
anymore.

In the heart

In the heart, doubts

In the doubts, a small room

In the small room, a table

On the table, a map being soaked by rain

On the table

In the small room

In the doubts

In the heart

SPICE        Quickly, before they fade,

      abandoning their ship of pages

      Gather the words together and

       mix them with seeds of spice

       Preserve their fragrance in

         windswept fields waving

        Hands and fingers dangling

        Grazing the buds of verse

Escuchar A La MadreConnectivity crackles atmosphere

Symbiotic systemic continuum

Human Rock Bug

River Cloud Fish

Ancestral waters
Ancestral air

Terrarium ultimo

Easter Island Rapa Nui

Listen
Our Mother speaks

La DerechistaI witness your methods
Your stunning audacious swagger
Wondering at what point in time
Lucifer will exact payment

Are you even alive now?
It would seem not
The sun shines and your skin sizzles
Your lurching gait gives you away

The dead are not concerned with living things
Mother Earth is just something to build castles on
A place to weave tales and sow fear
To defile for profit and hornswoggle the dim witted

You say this is not the place to talk of such things
I beg pardon and beseech
The time for pleasantries and demureness is past
To remain deferential a sinful lie

Come then the living and breathing
The healthy in mind

GRAYI envy the certitude of the delusional

The vacuum packed, hermetically sealed mind of the zealot

I envy the uninterrupted sleep of the self-righteous

Those blind lovers of the black and white

Where only man is alive

The simplest of explanations

For the most complex of questions

Cock sure of their truths and convictions

I live in a more likely world of

smudged borders and gray debate

A dearth of certitude

Pan and Loki abide and even the rocks live

I prefer the delicious semi-chaos of life as it is

tall skyI want to go where the sky is tall
and the buildings short
I want to go where the humans are few
and have a sense of quiet
and dignity

I want to go where everything's respected
where all things deserve
a fully considered thought

for consequence

Where I live now
does not seem to be the place

I'd better find a gate so transdimensional
the tunnel through the spaces
between the other universes
of this neverending multiverse

Hold on
I think I see a gate
It's right over there
in that chair
The one that's in that corner
in the dark

Lancelot Price 2011 November 24
Thanksgiving Day

sparsestark hard beauty
windblown
few things move
few things grow
pipes skirl their wildness in the air
above mountains and water
in the moments of a life without fire
when I can feel clearly
I am born and borne aloft
and truly fly

Lancelot Price 2012 February 06

cigarette holdercigarette holders
---------------------

It was a multi-level restaurant
Sleek
Moderne
Streamlined
Glass lights and arty-facts
hung from the ceiling
or were glued to the walls
below my beloved unholy trinity
three thin lines
like a Lionel train track
turned on its side
without crossties
but tying together every cornerless wall
on the way back to any start place
Streamline Moderne
At night it became a club
Whiskey-laden tables
Rising smoke from cigarettes
in holders between the lips of ladies
elegant in their sparkling gowns
The men took their cigarettes direct
while suave and charm

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closingthe mirrorball stops turning
the strobelights are turned off
the last drink is drunk at the bar
and I am too drunk, too
the lights dim
reluctant, I go out the door
where I came in to find a good time
and happiness
once more I leave alone

and so it always goes
no matter what body goes with me

the music never was

sideburnsSideburns
You ought to trim them

Differently on each side

That way
your schizophrenia shows

People need a warning

lightning bugsWe left the place where I'd grown up
when I was still fifteen
I'd played in summer
through day till night
and just beyond
when lightning bugs
revealed their light
Blink and move
and reappear
somewhere else

Like magic

Soon the summers
of my old place
came no more
I'd abandoned them
and childhood

Not by choice

We moved far south
when father needed work
and there was none where we had lived

Afterwards
I remember
seeing lightning bugs
when we had settled in this new place
in the first summer
and one time only

I never saw them again

Home had left me

such stuffIt is such dust
as dreams are made of
Put into a paper bag
Add hot water
and let it lie

and soon you will have tea
Drink it slowly
make it last an hour or two

Imagine your self
once again
Safe in your one true home

Whatever that may be

leftMy windows glimmer starlight
I dream awake adventures
Compass roses
unknown in all the fine dimensions
Anchors left behind
along with earth
and all else dreary

Last One On Earth, Turn out The LightsViolet grass, coffee moon, death-scented air
The wind above moves stars
but down below is still
The world is damp and treeless, lacking humans
but you and I and a thousand corpses
And snakes.
Oh the snakes
crawling through a grass minefield
Step carefully
To whatever lies on the other side of night

I howl at the moon
wretchedly

waiting for my mind to snap

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grass and lightning

by *LancelotPrice, Feb 23, 2012, 6:22:44 AM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

inside a paper sky
the more I paint
the less of real I see

grass and lightningby *LancelotPrice

Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

©2012-2013 *LancelotPrice

second title> i

~MeineSehnsucht Mar 11, 2012 Writer

Strong piece of minimalism. I think as an alternative title 'grass and lighting' would fit as well.

Reply

*LancelotPrice Mar 11, 2012

Thanks, Maarten.

Reply

~MeineSehnsucht Mar 12, 2012 Writer

You're welcome, mate.

Reply

*TheMadMulatto Mar 9, 2012

In reading this, I feel overcome by fumes by the second line.
Brilliant writing in that.

Reply

*LancelotPrice Mar 9, 2012

Thanks, M. I'm glad people are able to see more than one thing in this. I don't think anyone sees exactly what I do in it.

Reply

*TheMadMulatto Mar 9, 2012

When people hear the song...

'Its Only a Paper Moon'

in that ol' Cole Porter "diddy" way,

it makes all the right people glance and sag
while others dance and swag.

Either way, you've touch a good deal of the party in whatever ways they meant to attend.

Reply

*LancelotPrice Mar 9, 2012

Thanks. Is there a 'bow' icon that doesn't look smug and self-satisfied?

Reply

*TheMadMulatto Mar 9, 2012

Yeah, I've been looking for that shit for months.

I only got this.

Reply

*LancelotPrice Mar 9, 2012

It's better than the standard

if I'm being serious. Test>

Yep, definitely better. Thanks!

Reply

*TheMadMulatto Mar 9, 2012

No problem.

Reply