Eric Jaimes

Greyscale I am perched here in between Precarious and Insane; Plain old stupidity Waiting, blind, not the Know, no Anything but the Know if you please... Why not turn around And run this circle complete again, Lead me to where you left me Where nothing but time has marked the visit? Incapable is what you are, as am I, but of two completely different things; Yours is the worse, I would like to think, But not if I do not Will not Can not leave the circle So I sit smugly on my perch, Waiting. And I cannot see, but what I can discern Are the lush greens of a torrid Equator; Jungles thick and the Cheetah's Field all eclipsed by a foul, dark, insipid rain, A dull greyscale to arrogate the verdant Wild Leaving but a brittle stencil. But the Kill must go on so they tear him bloody, Flesh to flesh without flame, He gasps while they swallow his belly. Through the resplendent collage Life changes hands, But from here, Even his blood has no colour.

Madness, Sir You never can tell what boredom will breed So watch what you read So watch what you read No you never can tell what boredom will breed So I suggest you turn the page What boredom will breed you never can tell And whiffs of the smell Can mislead as well Yes what boredom will breed you never can tell Please pass us an eye for the screen The bare fruits of boredom have seldom been seen Except for my screen Except for my screen Whoa the bare fruits of boredom have seldom been seen Now check under your pillow for ants So seldomly seen is the ripe boredom’s fruit That you’d best parachute ‘Fore your brain it pollutes Ah so seldomly seen is the ripe boredom’s fruit Yank the rip cord peeking from your ear So now that you know just what boredom can breed What might spring from the seed Or of what it might bleed Perhaps now you’ll ‘blige me in critical need And tell me in two words or less

Modern Ministry Water bleeds into daggers, Proudly frozen around the perimeter. Silent once, A new ministry accompanies our age, And with it a voice unto even Samuel’s cabin. They wait now and crash Or fidget restless, Creaking, threatening. Keep your head up, Feign confidence cold and know this age, in its Conquest even of frost, Does not come quietly.

Wait For Silence Wait for silence. Surely this light cannot be real, and will fade back through a rusty veil of empty bottles when the din has gone. Such bright light I have never known here, In any season, and what it reveals pains me to behold. I must be sleeping still, for I cannot find the familiar comforts and like the reach of dreams I am unfulfilled in waking. But sweet Irony has left instead This beauty in my arms, A medley of browns and naked flesh, Thriving in this unwelcome light, And alive with its warmth. The racket grows and the light smiles with retribution, Reminding me in waking That this new gift, too, must go Even before the light itself. I poke at the rug with an uprooted nail, Untangling memories, Lose my fingers and myself in her long, brown hair And close my eyes in hope of silence.

Transfer Crouch breathe sweat Bend focus breathe listen Wait breathe look at the impending dial Knee pull snap check High five adjust Steady duck walk turn with your loaded man Foot perched sole edge Sky stare foot remember Cross now arms transfer thoughts to deed Door gone light Roar blur bird Arch up rushing in comes the sky