Cartoon SkyCartoon sky, fold and tear along the edges, see whatsCartoon Sky by Bark
beneath the carnival atmosphere, the loopy clouds
and finger-painted sun
Behind the balloons and love letters and candy apples
Beneath the everyone's-a-winner lies
Tar-black night, cold and carnivorous, stars waiting
to swallow your dreams whole
Preying monsters, from the backwoods of consciousness
Cracked plaster iron-bed institutional rooms, under
dim moonlight and swinging bulbs
the never-ending night of life, unpainted, unadorned
Beyond the illusions painted on by windmill minds
Cold, isolated, too real to comprehend without
the cartoon sky and paste-on angels
keeping it unreal enough to bear
Tea with my monkeyTea with my monkey by RichardLeach
The spotted men are walking and a storm is close behind,
it's bound to get them soon and I hope they do not mind.
Sometimes you check the mirror and a storm is what you find.
I was going to bake a cake but my sugar had a flaw -
it was the meanest sugar that you ever saw.
I think that kind of sugar ought to be against the law.
I bought a can of freedom, so glad to make it mine -
freedom is not free, it cost a dollar forty nine.
If the can would only open, things would be just fine.
You still can see the pipes sticking up out of the ground -
the trucks would pull up to the place and make a pumping sound.
They don't deliver any more, we have to go to town.
I have a funky monkey who says his name is Stan -
on Tuesday he goes out and plays the banjo in a band.
When I have tea he comes to me and sits upon my hand.
Some people like to stay indoors with all the curtains drawn
intersectionMy father's hair is gray now.intersection by beautyinreview
I'm not sure if it was the elevator
or that realization that caused
the lurch in my belly.
There's a little plastic container
on the bathroom counter, housing
blue, yellow, beige pills, designed
to slow the body's inevitable breakdown.
There are lines around my father's eyes now -
I feel his loneliness echoed in my chest,
in the mirror as I prepare for bed.
A blurry, half-remembered moment,
smudged with time, of sitting on his strong
shoulders, laughing in the sun,
so sure that he would always be able
to hold me up to touch the sky.
We live this half-baked life now,
circling each other, moments intersecting,
brief, our real lives hours away, with our
other families, and his silver hair,
little pills, sad eyes make me terrified
that we missed our chance, started
too late, and I will never be
daddy's little girl again.
king saul fell on his sword when it all went wrong,
and joseph's brothers sold him down the river for a song,
and sonny liston rubbed some tiger balm into his glove.
some things you do for money and some you do for love love love.
raskolnikov felt sick but he couldn't say why
when he saw his face reflected in his victim's twinkling eye.
some things you'll do for money and some you'll do for fun,
but the things you do for love are going to come back to you one by one.
love love is going to lead you by the hand
into a white and soundless place.
now we see things as in a mirror dimly.
then we shall see each other face to face.
and way out in seattle young kurt cobain
snuck out to the greenhouse, put a bullet in his brain.
snakes in the grass beneath our feet, rain in the clouds above,
some moments last forever, but some flare up with love love love.
—The Mountain Goats