I Did It For The LOLZ
Page 1
I DID IT FOR THE LOLZ!
ROBERTO ANTONIO EVANS
COPYWRITE 2015 CESAR A. EVANS
Momentous
♦
You gotta keep moving
forward
the moment you get stuck
the movement stops
the waters stagnate
Your heart is
a lake / a pond
a body of water
&to not stir it
builds algae
debris
and chokes the Fish – your emotions
and rots the Birds food – your ideas
and builds up on the Roots- your stability
and blocks out the Sun – your passion
You move forward or retrograde
there is no in between
but for a moment
like a pendulum swing
&it will swing back
but this time
a wreckingball
Jump ship
or change course
but there is no remaining
the same
There is no
“Standing room only”
TIME RECORD AND COURSE
♠
I could of grown scales
with as cold
as my heart
was
words were (no)where
and I didn’t know
what time it was
we were managing…
[WE]RE
managing,
Coping.
Syndicating.
Projecting.
Illuminating.
Retrieving.
Stalemating.
Enunciating.
Liberating.
Setting:
TIME
RECORD
& COURSE.
TRAIN (A DREAM)
&in the distance
a train
unclear if it was
coming or going
the shutters
on the
house
creaking
wind speaking
through its
horizontal
vents
fingers on
a harpsichord
a pan flute
the wind
ran along
the panels
of the house,
and onto the
lawn
its waves
waking
uncut
coastal grass
And I knew I was a wake
at least for a moment.
it seemed real
Like I could
reach
and touch
a hand
whose knuckles
brushed mine
a cup of coffee
reading
the paper
leisurely…cautiously.
&it all made sense
Why not
so
A wake?
Why not so awake?
Blanket (ANOTHER WH?)
Jagged fence
you cut me
&i could never
understand
what you meant
Why the hands in pockets
Why the staggering of self
Why the deficiency of marketing techniques,
you got to say more than you mean
.Still-served.
cold/
nihil·ist
Why the contrast
Why the taking-of-self/
when this
is
the only blanket I have
Years later
This became prove,
Hurt on a bike
And you misunderstood
Sight
Sorting through old photos
and I notice myself
6 – 2 – 5
years past
and I notice myself
i can hardly recognize
my gaze
expressions so different
eyes seeming like they
want to hide
& impress
And then i see this other photo of me
Laughing
Yelling
Uninhibited
Unbrooding
Not restless
but
On.
So damn On
Different
more like the original
Visceral
Like the one from the womb
Like seeing my hands for the first time
back lit /sunshining /recognizing fingers through your stomach lining
(it was just a moment)
but lately, you’re reminding me of it
of me
remixed
retold
found again
like hands digging through soil
gardening shovels
finding the roots
You found the roots.
You found the roots of me
that I had forgotten
where I let the moss in
that I had back-shelved and aged
regarded as foul
transcripted & transpired
through years
And left for Owls
empty hands
were all that had I been digging up
dirty and black
with years backed
up in my fingertips
Nothing to retell
or savor
.transitions.
&somewhere
some old saint prays,
“God, with your help
I will be”
me”
/me
.me.
Yellow Sweater
There’s nothing charming about being out of place
Ill-fit sweaters are no good
Even if they appear to fit
All the while
the thread is unraveling
loop by loop
yellow thread
coming undone
Coming undone
like-a-snake
moving out of its skin
when it knows
it’s time.
Frictioning
Wearing it
but already dead
The only evidence
the wake in the sand
and the husk of a snake that doesn’t fit
As a kid
I removed all the tags
from all my clothes
I couldn’t wear them
I’d scythe on the floor
I don’t do that too much anymore
maybe I should
(or maybe I do)
Why the snuffing of self?
When its only natural progress?
Hear it in the deepest parts of you,
Move on…
Onward.
Onward.
Three(Souls)
I definitely believe
in multiple personalities.
Like the tribe
that said
you have 3 souls:
one in your shadow,
one your reflection in water,
and one in the pupil
of your eye.
and somewhere they align.
or intertwine.
or make up poetry,
sometimes
lines
that rhyme.
or not.
Drunk Talk ...at 12pm
♠
i just want to love shit
you know
like “for real”
deal away
with insecurities
hang-ups
isolations
let it “flow ”
you know??
??
Awesome. (My Favorite Poem)
Shit got real.
Then it got weird.
And then
it got awesome.
Times. New Roman.
im not sure i could be friends
with the person i was
5 years ago.
I mean, maybe.
but we would definitely
have our differences.
One would think
‘you drink and swear.’
One would say
‘you’re missing the point”
One would make it a point
to not get off track.
One would make sure
his goal is in the right place.
One would say,
you have the good in there,
but you care too much
what other People think.
The other one
would know it’s true
-but still not get away.
One would not want to hang out
with,
(and perhaps)
strangle the other one.
and I guess that’s what happened.
Name change
&a play off game
Tragic.
Such a tragic Soul
all of us
and what’s it good for
except to write rock n roll
songs?
(And shitty poetry.
Don’t forget the shitty poetry).
Does it go anywhere?
All the angst and wanting?
all the desire and longing?
not here. not now.
we just sit
and write and fuck
and drink
and steep
in fruit fly filled dreams
yeah you..
I’m talking about you.
TRUTH
Some people
get cooler
when they drink.
Some People
DON’T!
bright.
are there bright things in this world?
yes.
do you have to search for them?
(of course.)
and why not,
they managed to hide all
the things that matter
wrapped up in bandages,
and excuses
nothing to hold on to
its their fault they made it so
but you can’t stay there.
no, you can’t stay there.
the walls
will fall on you
the soil
will amber you,
keep your feet moving
the creditors
will claw you
and take
what was never theirs
(and with interest)
and make
a spectacle of you
on the
regional news.
but you can’t let em
not this now
not this when
not this tomorrow
never again.
Pius
too pious
to stay
silent,
too (damned) indignant
to make sense.
ever