“You see this knife? I’m gonna teach you to speak English with this fucking knife!”
I started a new Tumblr with the prints I’ve been making. Follow me if you’re into that sort of thing!
Action Camus, Drawn and Quarterly
Lamplight casts and azure glow
over the fractured glass of war.
Pulling limbs apart and breaking
swords beneath heels on the floor.
Candlelight, the companion of a concerned soul
that peers through an open window
where the wounded
recognize the wounded.
Nightlight rages from a house fire
where the charlatans are wild animals
mangling the bodies
of our lovers.
Lamplight shines
on an infant’s closed eyes,
a child who will no longer nurse
at the breast of his mother.
With rusting harmonica he etched his
tune into the soul of the earth.
What up dude, not much.
Slanted slits of broken light
finds a way through cracked, corrupt blinds,
breaks apart on dusted strings,
divine reminder of laze and shortcomings,
Of my own dis, or misbelief.
If my fingers then could move
with precision and with confidence,
I would wow the world at large,
make women weep and wail.
Put tears in the eyes of the joyful,
and glee in the souls of the crestfallen.
Sounds in shorthand,
scaled down sonnets,
to follow that pendulum,
rhythmic click and swing,
sing it sweet to stick in stomachs,
blood red, steak savory.
There. He felt it again. The whole house had unmistakeably slid toward the retaining wall, as if inching toward edificial suicide.
(Photo: Jason Schmidt, Dwell, February 2010)
LEGO Book of Revelations. “There Was Hail and Fire Mixed with Blood Thrown at the Earth” (via Brendan Powell Smith)
Tell me how to move…
just like you do
with precision and arrogance
as you try to hide a dance of passion
and practiced steps.
I miss you like high school,
like dilated hands around my neck.
An indecent proposition for your bed
to poison this relationship.
My piano player punching keys,
it is a shame how my strings
can’t match her ivory.
It was a siren’s voice of distress and need,
tiled floors slipping beneath your feet.
The rules for courtship take a back seat.
The rain brings relief
from the drudgery of the sun.
A breath of thick air
in a smokers lung.
In my confusion I replied:
I believe in nothing,
Inherently I believe in everything.
My faith lies in a silver screen,
in films that I will never see.
At eighteen I had a powerful dream,
to put all of your suffering on me.
Oh faithless I did none of these things.
I recieved the best bad news
from the soles of your shoes,
that I was now free from your suffering.
Okay, not so much at a loss, but I feel like the quality of my work has dropped off a bit in recent months. Mostly I would attribute this to the pursuit of other things in my life such as music, and being young, and partying. These things are all important in their own rites but now It is time to be back, creating at lease decent work, and writing every single day like I used to. In the mean time, until I get back to that level, I am going to re-post some old things that I still enjoy and hope that you do too. As always, if you like it, click that little heart button, and boy do I ever love to be re-blogged.
Sincerely,
Robby
robert.klingerman@gmail.com
(don’t be a stranger.)
