ski night

2 Mar

steve:

colorsetbrushes keeps painting. broken bats keeps adding words

Originally posted on colorsetbrushes:

feet as reigns;skinight 001 (2)
arms in conveyor belt obedience
you got the i and I now;
can hear the snow dust crawl
across burial mounds
plaguing you with certainty.
fire extinguishers no longer holding sway;
free to cross the Red Sea again with
severity and discipline twisting on the other side;
a double helix latte at the ski lodge.

-words by Steve; broken bats

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morning yoga

1 Mar

steve:

more gang bang from colorsetbrushes on paint and broken bats with words.

Originally posted on colorsetbrushes:

saw dust and pillars;
salt shakers and sugar
everything stuck in transitionsaguenay 001 (3)
these dark hours disguised as light;
our primordial dusk;
how could we know this would be day 1;
again?
we were so tired, but still
befriending vultures and
loving without a compass.
god, i hope to always notice
the caboose kid slipping under the fence
into Remo’s junkyard and out;
like a tree ring spun free from the stump;
yoked and ready to climb down the blue;
to stretch in Saguenay mawning

-words by Steve; broken bats

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The nature of things

21 Feb

steve:

another gang bang effort by colorsetbrushes with broken bats on vocals

Originally posted on colorsetbrushes:

we cheered for trees and waterthenatureofthing2
like we cheered for washers and dryers
and the evergreens looked like pagodas and the water sang a song;
a spin cycle confession and a
tumble day dry off.
we danced in naked feet and started over.

cats and their however many lives seem to be on to something.

-by Steve, broken bats

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Alive

15 Feb

steve:

More gang bang; painting by colorsetbrushes; words by me.

Originally posted on colorsetbrushes:

i’m never too ashamed admitting;alive 001
“no, haven’t seen the movie,
didn’t read the book”
or maybe i am a little,
but then i see the movie;
and see boo radley in every shadow
and say sí sí and so
we peel away our airport security and
speak in our own tongue and cymbals and
love trumpets more than shiny apples,
this dirty existence in rations delicious
and so no flowers in our forecast and
so what! we say

poem by Steve; broken bats

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See

14 Feb

steve:

I was asked to add words to a blog of paintings. Here’s the first one.

Originally posted on colorsetbrushes:

rumblings of more suicides;solitude2 001
on the east end;
romances running out of road is the word.
i always liked the way coils angled skward,
jetting outward from aborted highway projects;
maybe public works projects
broken hearts and lonely heart projects;
tears are only baptism
i have one dream.
it’s the same dream as always
i want to connect with my animal ancestors
and come morning
strip away last night’s straight jacket and feel
free as a sinking balloon.

poem by steve; broken bats

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exhale

5 Aug

there’s this empty stadium in my head
and crowds roll in;
a reverse river flow,
turning wall outlets into ghosts with two droopy eyes and an uh oh mouth
turning a sandy beach of castle dreams into quick sand.
turning sweet voices into avalanche,
but 
there’s this place;
a nothing,
a dark nothing,
a dark silent wonderful nothing
that suddenly appears
that blows everything to smithereens
i reach for the the lever on the side of the sofa;
the kick back breeze. 

i can’t remember what inning it was or the the score or the teams playing for that matter

4 Aug

i used to complain about commercials;
especially while watching baseball games,
but then i listened and commercials became entertaining,
but then they disappeared;
on mlb.tv anyway;
just a screen with the mlb.tv emblem shimmering and silence between innings.
i was eating an apple a few a games ago and
between the innings arrived and
the apple was just about at the core;
all of the big bites gone and what not.
i imagined being without water for three days or whatever;
dry lips, dizzy when
out of nowhere this apple appeared.
it was just the core and really hard; not much to chew,
but i slurped my way right into paradise anyway.

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