something i'm working on...

elegy

dawnlight trickles in through half-liquid windows like cooling cum down a young man's pale thighs.
yes it is his. pissrigid now withering.
in the morning mirror ghostpale as bone, as an echo of himself dbouled and redoubled by the hair-spray spattered pane behind him.
downstairs they are having it again. for breakfast. a child's face floats in greasepool disintegrating like cheap makeup-mask in the rain. its spine, already denuded of flesh, brittle as a spool of barbed wire curled 'round the faux bone china. sun-yellow yolks bleeding out like broken hearts.
there is no flesh like this, he knows.

here, it's easy to get lost along a lane of associations.
take a wrong turn, wander
that long
lost alley
find
the brutalization, all over again.

that boy's breath hot in the soft
whorl of your ear, his strength
throbbing against you,
remote and thoughtless engine.

her skin starwhitehot beneath his hands, occasionally a whispered scream, seething up, rippling like a hot stream of plasma beneath sliding shells cooled to a relative darkness, erupts from the cavity, the unhealable wound of her mouth.

strange angel
at his window, perched
atop the sill, long fluttering silk-
en folds of his
coat hanging

with the bruise black eyes and that strange
brilliance below (white
blush, or was it, foundation,
he'd find out,
later,)

that boy from school, yeah, you know,
the one,
the strange one,
that
quiet boy, from school, yeah,
not a lot of friends, yeah,
the silent
you
know

the queer
one
funny
one (not ha-ha
funny, but
you know, but,
funny,
weird)

strange the febrile solidity of what is ninety percent absence.
water and nothing. nothing flowing like water. water like light. light like
nothing. not thing but light. terrible light nest of nothing

she lies enrapt in black
velvet folds of her dress, thin fingers spooling the spun-
gold of her hair as nails worry the fabric. her.
hair like halo

it's easy to get lost here.
when he leaves the house it is like a withered balloon loosely tethered to some unimaginable solidity far below underlying this blank black dark empty lights inside like sussurant pulse of blood in ultrasound
images. like light beneath membral noose of placenta.
fetus. hanged man.

light
he knows
ripples space's
velvet folds
as wounds
worry the increasingly
gravid skin. eventually
scars begin to speak us.

the books always say its anything to pass the night away
he knows its more about anything
to let it pass him

silk green smoke unfurling in his lungs, unspooling into tired limbs recumbent in the warm, worn car seat, heater blasting against the invasive unbreath of the night outside, velvet soft pressed against the fogging shells of glass, scratchy throated radio pumping 'she's in parties' by his request. they'd stopped out here, in the dark only nowhere knows, the stars somehow brightbrittle as the cricket's song somewhere out there in the tall, rasping, green-gold grass. eventually it dawned on him to ask,
"we're not going to yoga class, are we"
soft laughter of the other, soft as night

there is a still of him, long ragged curly gold hair spray-painted orange, hi long, serpentine tongue extended to brush the tip of his hairless chin, hand up,m fingers splayed into stick-thin, wrinkled devil's horns. behind him a cone of darkness where somewhere the band contorts into the arabesques of music.
he must be having the time of his life.

So, this is something I was forwarded from a good friend this morning, and I thought this would be the perfect place to share! There're so many classic lines in here I can't pick my favorite!

Also, wanted to thank everyone who's accepted my pleas for friendship in the past few days, and especially those who've taken the time to read and comment on my poetry.

luv you all!

Now, on to the show:

Listed below are some warning signs to indicate if your
child may have gone astray from the Lord.

Gothic (or goth) is a very obscure and often dangerous culture that young teenagers are prone to participating in. The gothic culture leads young, susceptible minds into an imagined world of evil,darkness, and violence. Please seek immediate attention through counseling, prayer, and parental guidance to rid your child of Satan's temptations if five or more of the following are applicable to your child:

-Frequently wears black clothing.

-Wears band and/or rock t-shirts.

-Wears excessive black eye makeup, lipstick or nail polish.

-Wears any odd, silver jewelry or symbols. Some of these include: reversed crosses, pentagrams, pentacles, ankhs or various other Satanic worshipping symbols.

-Shows an interest in piercings or tattoos.

-Listens to gothic or any other anti-social genres of music. (Marilyn Manson claims to be the anti-Christ, and publicly speaks against the Lord. Please discard any such albums IMMEDIATELY.)

-Associates with other people that dress, act or speak eccentrically.

-Shows a declining interest in wholesome activities, such as: the Bible, prayer, church or sports.

-Shows an increasing interest in death, vampires, magic, the occult, witchcraft or anything else that involves Satan.

-Takes drugs.

-Drinks alcohol.

-Is suicidal and/or depressed.

-Cuts, burns or partakes in any other method of self-mutilation. (This is a Satanic ritual that uses pain to detract from the light of God and His love. Please seek immediate attention for this at your local mental health center.)

-Complains of boredom.

-Sleeps too excessively or too little.

-Is excessively awake during the night.

-Dislikes sunlight or any other form of light. (This pertains to vampires promoting the idea that His light is of no use.)

-Demands an unusual amount of privacy.

-Spends large amounts of time alone.

-Requests time alone and quietness. (This is so that your child may speak to evil spirits through meditation.)

-Insists on spending time with friends while unaccompanied by an adult.

-Disregards authority figures; teachers, priests, nuns and elders are but a few examples of this.

-Misbehaves at school.

-Misbehaves at home.

-Eats excessively or too little.

-Eats goth-related foods. Count Dracula cereal is an example of this. (*Remark: it's Count Chocula, not Dracula, idiots.)

-Drinks blood or expresses an interest in drinking blood. (Vampires believe this is how to attain Satan. This act is very dangerous and should be stopped immediately.)

-Watches cable television or any other corrupted media sources. (Ask your local church for proper programs that your child may watch.)

-Plays videos games that contains violence or role-playing nature.

-Uses the internet excessively and frequently makes time for the computer.

-Makes Satanic symbols and/or violently shakes head to music.

-Dances to music in a provocative or sexual manner.

-Expresses an interest in sex.

-Masturbates

-Is homosexual and/or bisexual.

-Pursues dangerous cult religions. Such include: Satanism, Scientology, Philosophy, Paganism, Wicca, Hinduism and Buddhism.

-Wears pins, stickers or anything else that contains these various phrases: "I'm so gothic, I'm dead", "woe is me", "I'm a goth".

-Claims to be a goth.

If five or more of these apply to your child, please intervene immediately. The gothic culture is dangerous and Satan thrives within it. If any of these problems persist, enlist your child into your local mental health center.

random meditations: finding a "real job" is bloody awful. I just finished my B.A. and so begins the tiresome cycle of sending out resumes and getting "i'm sorry" emails. I studied English, which (hooray for me!) means I can write and edit well. Wow, now there's a skill NO ONE needs. Well, they do, actually...quite badly. But I haven't seen a single bloody listing for an entry level editorial (or even copy-writing, for chrissakes) job. Everyone needs a managing editor! Apparently I've entered the world's only field entirely devoid of entry-level possibilities!!! Fuck!

Excuse the vent. Right now I'm wishing I'd actually invested some time in all those random dreams of apprenticing to be a tattoo artist, or piercer, or masseuse, or...something. I'm a man in need of practical skills.

But at least the writing's going well (despite all the writing-time this site is so rapidly consuming!). I've got poems out for review all over the place and I'm working on a short story to submit soon (which is what I should be working on...lol). If anyone's interested in reading, let me know: I'd love to get some preliminary opinions.

listening to the Swans. I love the Swans. the Swans make me happy.

Rambling done, here's a new poem:

Psalm

None kneads us again from earth and clay,
none bespeaks our dust.
None.

Praised be your name, none.
By your will
will we flower.
You
towards you.

A nothing
were we, are we, will
we remain, blooming,
a nothingrose, a
nonerose.

With
the pistil, darkbright,
the stamen skyravaged
our corona red
with the crimsonword we sang
over over
the thorn.

*

Your
being, beyond, overnight
with word hold you here, there are you,
all is true and a waiting
for truth.

growing, the bean before
our window: think
who near us watches and
grows.

God, read we, is
a shard and a second, scattered:
in the death
of the scythed he
waxes.

there
leads our seeing,
with this
half
we regard.

http://killpoet.com/poet.php?page=tjohnmoorewilliams... in case anyone's interested...

perhaps not the best of puns

she had overripe cherries for eyes
blackish-red and long-stemmed
and when i leaned in as if for a kiss
and instead sank my teeth
into taut skins
i swear they nearly popped in surprise

ah...it's time for a little gratuitous self promotion here. three new prose poems of me own devising are now up and ready for your delectation at venerealkittens.blogspot.com. and while you're there, why not check out the link to killpoet.com? hint: i go by John Moore Williams in the 'real' world.
I'd love to hear what you all think!

So...everyone's musing on the dying away of yet another year, so i might as well add my two cents, eh?
Two thousand six was a good year, all in all (though my pessimistic side is screaming bloody murder at me for admitting that): I finally finished my B.A. at UC Berkeley (only seven years! yeehah!), I'm applying for MFA programs in poetics, and I finally got my first poem published (outside of those college journals where you just know they're going to accept ONE of your poems, for chrissakes) at www.killpoet.com (gratuitous self-promotion!), and i was just interviewed for a documentary film on current american poetry by film-maker and indie publisher alveraz. All in all, a great many things done that seemed to hover on too-distant horizons for just too many fucking years.
And yet, summing it all up like that, it really doesn't seem like all that much.
I guess that's just the nature of retrospection, though.
"Objects seen in mirror may be closer than they appear"

i've always wanted to join. can't imagine why it took so damn long.