The Heart Book

There are very real devils in this town Seeping through white textured walls thought there was a dead dog in my bath room turned out to be my dirty muck lucks then in sleeping I saw that I die alone Allen Allen what has happened on this campus no longer a purple insulated belly your face becoming a yellow scribble a faceless maw has made me boil in my own skin I want to crawl out peeking through dusty gray shades as if I had a hump on my back Allen Allen someone disemboweled me when I was looking at mountains where should I start looking for my greenpurpleblue insides like a pumpkin or pulled pork smashed rolling pin on counter so hard the bag of almonds burst

sopping in sickness brain sloshing rubbery pain water logged anvil poked head in freezer to cool sweaty shining brow ice saves from swift faint where is my family? where is my warrior heart life? where is the heart of the world? brain floats up to sky light flu heavy heart christmas dreams freezing (C) Lindsey Anderson 2006 All Rights reserved

MUSIC AS MEDITATION the twinkling of everywhereness knowledge (C) Lindsey Anderson 2006 All Rights Reserved

she said i was a poet "in every sense of the word" the word is my life and once again we BLOOM BLAST BLOW BREAK with bread flying through the sky (c) Lindsey Anderson 2006 All Rights Reserved

from Denmark...

my frigid heart bleeds in the Danish sun

a sudden urge to insert myself

onto one of the propeller blades slicing throught the harbor of Copenhagen

¤ page pains ¤

mine is not a life of uncommon glory ¤

the dragonfly who was kept away from his family ¤

(c) Lindsey Anderson 2006 All Rights Reserved

surfing sorrow
under the tidal
becoming
a heavily sinking mass
composed of once sweet shadows
i lay down to love the sea 
washing over me like a single pane of 
liquid glass 
sealing my mouth shut
120 pounds of pressure per inch 

 (C)Lindsey Anderson 2006
All Rights Reserved 

i am a collector of words
i
drink them
eat them
swallow them whole
i enjoy having time alone with them
and even make love to them
i've always said that one should sleep with their writing
the soft sheets
the bleeding throbbing thriving ink
i wish i could ingest
every word
in the world
a tower of language
tumbling down and rebuilding itself

(C) Lindsey Anderson 2006 All Rights Reserved

sometimes i take up a passionate love affair with paper
ink turns to blood in silent fucking 

 (C) Lindsey Anderson 2006
All Rights Reserved 

A stark sharp
Spark
Turn the blue world down
On her belly
Towards blank yellow moon
Seeing the side of me
Hollow without a trace of remorse
No learning without glass
Smashing
Say…..
Something
One time I dreamed I was you
I’m a lark frigid on a limb
Cradling skulls

 (C) Lindsey Anderson
All Rights Reserved 2006 

.Dedicated to Gary Numan.

i love soft reptiles of music
their soft skin comforts me
beyond the edge of childhood or
chocolate
(childhood gives way to the ringing
of eyes and hands, chocolate gives way to
headaches )
soft reptiles and shooting stars of
technology
outlive
the world

(C)Lindsey Anderson 2006
All Rights Rerserved 

1440 the lazy dragon
the  morning moves
like your razor tail
counting cats in the sky
eat  for the trees
winding down the waining wings of the  world
will you help me with my pain plan?
i wish i was you, 1440
swinging alone

(C)Lindsey Anderson 2006
All rights reserved 

during haan huur tu prayer

 i need to unzip myself and let muscle and heart crawl out
see the world
i’m afraid of frothing waves but
think i would like the mediterranean
deep blue green
sting ray black shadows
the water would make my ankles rise
then shoot me back with arrow straightness
a seaweed cocoon

from 23 feb. 2006

trying to sleep in shadow
when you long for light's wakefulness
is a drag
good night

(C) Lindsey Anderson 2006
All Rights Reserved 

My body is a conch shell
I have wisping husks for arms
When I wish I was shaped like a pagoda
Standing still
Full of shooting light
Palms cup, heart like
Water rinses through a forced sieve
Petal shaped puddle
On chocolate brown floor

 

1.19.06

(c) Lindsey Anderson 2006
All Rights Reserved

Red pony poem

Written during The End

8 January 06

i’ll ride my red pony to the pagoda bell
she sighs inside tears of light
walking on wilderness shells
evergreen sap sings in drops
a sticky soup of leaves
in the western woods
riding shiny scales east
red pony crushes twigs underfoot
head down, red rock mane swaying
swimming in the sunday stream
she leans toward the sun
sucking sweetness from lilies and fronds
fighting fanged fish
on the side of the mountain
sliding down toward a purple blue sea
sinking sands send her south
the red pony is master

(c) Lindsey Anderson 2006
All Rights Reserved

Friday, December 30, 2005

(while watching The Shining)

the white snow of pages made me

crazy this year

seeing stoic boys in deep holly green dress shirts

cheered me up

my hands became wings spitting ink

twenty thousand words all the same

hags hang in the closet

sopping up neck blood

with teeth

warped water voices

broken brow blades

read and write

that’s all I want to do today

i must finish my work before the monsters come

june jaws and snowflies

kill themselves with stabbing

winter light

(c) Lindsey Anderson 2005
All Rights Reserved

i had a daydream that my lips were peeling off

a bloody mess of chapped string

the bass from the stereo tore the walls down

and my heart expanded, stretching to the limit of life

the sound of nails on a chalk board

chased me through my small beige house

unending like time

i wanted so badly to be jesus for holloween

that i crucified myself with a pair of broken kitchen sheers

(C)Lindsey Anderson 2005
All Rights Reserved

i need a song for myself

the sky is nothing

but a huge empty blue sea shell

i do not have the breath

to breathe life into its vastness

save a line for me

of your secret song

or white magic

sometimes i think it would be best

if i sank down into hell

that’s real living for you

there’s no need to ask because

my brain is mush

only now on the verge of

red cortex explosion

a last thought before dying

maybe i’ll become pure light when

my brain explodes

body cracking and crumbling

like a grimy brown dishrag

falling off a clothesline

in the dakota wind

(C) Lindsey Anderson 2006

All Rights Reserved

 my poems are like gunshots
short bursts of blood and brains
splotches of red and blue life
pieces of film spliced together by a young blind woman
a constant retelling of the fact that one can truly be free
only when they are alone
there are no cicadas here
to tell me that i am home

(C) 2005 Lindsey Anderson All Rights Reserved

.THE GIRL WITH A THOUSAND EYES.

the girl who had eyes all over her body

laying like a glittering, jeweled reptile
sleeping and fasting her life away wanted
nothing more than to be invisible in the eyes of the universe
she was born this way
god had done it to her
condemning her to sing the sullen siren song to the walls of her room
shut up in dry confinement
there was no one with six arms to comfort her
no one with seventeen toes to bring her food and music
her skin grew dark in the dimmed room
she hung her head and studied herself from all angles
closing some eyes, keeping others wide
being awakened by the moon’s eye was a constant interference
she sang to her eyes one by one and contemplated giving each a name but decided against it after realizing they were all her
clothes would smart on her body from the movement of batting lashes she sang songs in solitary half asleep, half awake
singing through a megaphone made of shell
to the men who loved and loathed her all at once
when the wind picks up she switches her direction and changes her tune her notes are recorded in a book of loneliness
the sound of shattering shell on linoleum

(C) Lindsey Anderson 2005 All Rights Reserved