Blajhu – 2009

In wet
Plunging down
into
the deep unknown

Blinded
Not knowing what’s
In front of you
or behind

Submerge
into nothing
Not knowing what’s there
and what’s not

Nothing
and everything
is there for the use
of no one

Falling
Behind of something
in front of nothing
while you drop relentlessly

Two in front of nothing
and from nothing I’m behind

Eager
Leaving the scent
of the light
from the liquid behind you

Swimming
Up above you
Where the light shows bright
You’re being brought

Touching
the scent of the brightness
that you had once lost
And finding it shattered

Leaving
Free to go, I suppose
as I get sucked down
And shot to the sky

Flying
I hover over
the sea
And watch it fly by

Two in front of nothing
And from nothing I’m behind
As I’m sucked down from my steady pace
Contained in a big black nothing


Posted on : Dec 03 2011
Posted under Jason's Poetry |

Things are Things – 7/2/09

things are things
it’s shit
but then it’s beautiful

and it’s off-white
and monochrome
like walls with scratches
and pencil marks and chipped paint

and it’s red
and colorful
like enveloped in wrinkled sheets
with morning sun shining through

things are just things
and it’s shit
and it’s murky-like and coffee
stained and crinkled
and it’s beautiful.


Posted on : Dec 03 2011
Posted under Jason's Poetry |

Death is a Black Hole – 5/13/09

Death
Is a black hole
(Though not as black as it seems)
Stretches us
Transports us
To an intergalactic gap
Or a violet-green nebula
To an alien air
A lifespan in light years away from here
And when our tenures expire
It takes us back here
Our other home
And we repeat
The circle of life
In a straight line
The bedlam of everything
All at once
That ever
Hasbeen willbe is
Collectively condensed
Into the broken-record
Migrane of now
And us, eternally

Death
Is an illusion
Is the memory-wiping
Painkiller for the
Exciting ennui
Of life
Of us
Of this
Of all


Posted on : Dec 03 2011
Posted under Jason's Poetry |

Branches in the wind – 5/7/09

Branches in the wind
Like salmon in the river
Swim with twilight reds


Posted on : Dec 03 2011
Posted under Jason's Poetry, Plutonic Fluf - Jason Foster |

Your Eyes – 5/13/09

Your eyes are a complex crevasse
Each molecule a galaxy
Each atom a solar system
Each quark a quiet moon
And when they meet with mine
It’s like two pieces of presence
Fallen perfectly into place
And locked
I guess that means we fit


Posted on : Dec 03 2011
Posted under Jason's Poetry, Plutonic Fluf - Jason Foster |

Steps in the Water – 2009

Steps in the water
Echoing a subtle shift
In the atmosphere

Steps in the water
Silencing the lurking life
In the morning mist

Steps in the water
Slowly through thickening fog
Raising air pockets


Posted on : Dec 03 2011
Posted under Jason's Poetry |

A Subtle Shift – 5/09

A subtle shift in the movement of the clouds
This canopy of dim protection
Something quiet, something still
A lull in space and time until

A heightening fog in the growth of the dawn
This ominous birth of something new
Always quiet, never still
A crack in space and time until

Nothing never nowhere
Something always somewhere


Posted on : Dec 03 2011
Posted under Jason's Poetry |

Maker of Storms and Suns – summer ’08

Maker of storms and suns
A sleepless night of melodic winds and currents
A body blown from its mind
And a mind from its body
The soothing torrents of rain in the sky
He knows


Posted on : Dec 03 2011
Posted under Jason's Poetry, Plutonic Fluf - Jason Foster |

In the Attic Loft at the Rain – 5/24/09

I don’t know what day it is
and I don’t know why I’m here
staring out of the big glass window
in the attic loft at the rain

Perhaps I seek a quiet place
away from the noise of loneliness
from his fingers crawled across the keys
while I lay on the floor unnoticed

Maybe I need to wash my mind
my dirty sheets, not physically but to
bleach away the things I’ve felt
that I don’t want to feel again

Perhaps I seek a space to dream
of something far too far and fetched
and distant, but at least it’s there
to envelope and cradle me

Maybe I need to watch the grass
as it soaks up the fallen rain
that satiates its every quench
but still I feel unsatisfied

Things are seeming to blow apart
though they were never really one
as I stare out of the big glass window
in the attic loft at the rain


Posted on : Dec 03 2011
Posted under Jason's Poetry |

Omit This – 5/11/09

I must omit this
tantalizing future
from my quilt of comfort

Each square has been
fortuitously stitched
and embroidered with confusion

Vibrantly, I am
injecting my chaotic
dysfunction into myself

Slowly
dethreading
the reds

Quietly
eating me

up


Posted on : Dec 03 2011
Posted under Jason's Poetry |