www.DANNYMICROWAVE.com

SENSE OR SHIP

noreply@blogger.com (danny cosmic microwave) — Wed, 18 Jan 2012 15:07:00 +0000

MONEY IS METAPHOR

FOR THE EXTREMELY

UNCREATIVE.

MAKE MORE.

United Hate of Paranoia

noreply@blogger.com (danny cosmic microwave) — Thu, 12 Jan 2012 18:02:00 +0000

In the throes of the unknown,
I meddled in magic
of halves and hovering.

Dots connected neatly,
& I saw truths
none knew.

Shortly said:
My ego swallowed my brain.

So I throttled that fucker.

Silence

noreply@blogger.com (danny cosmic microwave) — Sun, 08 Jan 2012 05:08:00 +0000

Silence keeps me alive.
I have so much feeling for this place.
It hums in my head all the day long.
Vibrations soothe me colorfully.
I bloom from one ray to the next,
where each nothing is felt.

I know this can be frustration, too.
I feel it often enough. But, at these times,
silence can keep us intact.

Sometimes it's silence even when I'm saying.
Silence is not always quiet.
Silence is time. Meditation.
It tempers. Aligns.
Silence tides over.

Waiting to scream.

Shining Light

noreply@blogger.com (danny cosmic microwave) — Sun, 25 Dec 2011 22:41:00 +0000

A house. Broken. Holes unmended and tearing still.
But holiday gives moment to nothingness.
Some breath. Some gall.
We grasp words and hands.
Hopeful that prudence might endure entropy.

Just another moment.

Detour Way

noreply@blogger.com (danny cosmic microwave) — Fri, 16 Dec 2011 16:43:00 +0000

I had high hopes.
Things were all in order.
The tiles arranged.
Peacock shipped on time.

But, then, some pebble found it's way into my shandal.
It ran a course.
I ignored it for a moment, thinking,
"How brave I am for suffering!"
Excitedly bending down to remove the pain,
I forget to stop my feet, which,
mostly, walk all on their own.

Tumblefastfacefirst.

Tiles are arranged.
The peacock will arrive.
But, I am delivered to my own self.

And, here, I remain.

Duped

noreply@blogger.com (danny cosmic microwave) — Thu, 15 Dec 2011 12:30:00 +0000

Some long faced man from wardrobe
brought coats back for his poor neighbors,
And was fired outright.

He didn't understand.
It was cold, and
they weren't nice coats.

Strong Dadvice for a Weak Dicksquirt

noreply@blogger.com (danny cosmic microwave) — Wed, 07 Dec 2011 22:47:00 +0000

You're done with school, boy,
so what's next?
Here's some words,
you're feeling vexed:

Time takes quick,
is slow to give,
so-- relax,
& pop a sedative!

Then comes
rolling, dolling,
bowling, holing,
downers, outters,
sniffy powders;
et that shit and
buzz for hours!

Don't you love it?
Catches quick.
Just now you try
and wet your prick!

Sharps, lines,
sips, hits,
mushy-mush,
and silly trips.

When you're through,
and see what's true--
your brain has turned
to FUCKING glue!

STOP!

You need to know that:
1. You're okay;
2. This is fun;
3. The whole of this
IS all just one!

BUT ALSO...

The heart of this
is just because
you love, and hate
to love, the fuzz.

Simple

noreply@blogger.com (danny cosmic microwave) — Fri, 02 Dec 2011 08:10:00 +0000

A man makes some money for his woman, and everything sleeps right.

Son, be a man.
How hard her little heart beats for you.

Make your lady most loved.

Free admittance

noreply@blogger.com (danny cosmic microwave) — Fri, 02 Dec 2011 08:02:00 +0000

My serenity might be lies.
Beneath might be some dank river cave. I might have teeth
behind soft lips. I might take you.

You might live.

Fun things

noreply@blogger.com (danny cosmic microwave) — Thu, 24 Nov 2011 20:17:00 +0000

It begins quiet. Watching him, and the wakefulness of it all.

The alone sets upon you. The desert is far and away. Holding us behind are wastes and oily muck. Things we should leave.

Second stanzas are smashed fingers again, and again. I am indubitably doubtful. And my now is not a fresh one, but a husk. Knowing this doesn't make easy.

Instead, it's pressing
and pressing
and lost.
Exploring this end is something new. And that makes me new. So we move along again. Each of us.

Moving slowly.

blink

noreply@blogger.com (danny cosmic microwave) — Wed, 23 Nov 2011 20:35:00 +0000

The human moment
is a short one.
Slivered. Almond-shaped.
A quick onset, and a horizon,
that blinks green
just before it's gone.

Get ready.
Get ready.
Get gone.

POST

noreply@blogger.com (danny cosmic microwave) — Tue, 22 Nov 2011 16:09:00 +0000

Some achey mornings
we seal the halls
with a kiss that
paints our neighbors.

Behind,
a song that sings like
troubles.

Screeching to a halt.

Maybe I can spell you, Lady?
Perception's not our fault.

fiver

noreply@blogger.com (danny cosmic microwave) — Fri, 18 Nov 2011 15:53:00 +0000

A distant metacarpal's design
on black
in black
of black.

Don't stick,
just wait.

Hoping.

Tuesday

noreply@blogger.com (danny cosmic microwave) — Fri, 18 Nov 2011 02:05:00 +0000

A thought lost in a head of wires,
makes doing so slow.
When it's time, ideas lean like
old glass.

Speaking in the dark
our shapes meshed without
touching. Years melt
and beneath is simple.
Familiar.

I belong to her,
but she is not mine.

Gentle

noreply@blogger.com (danny cosmic microwave) — Thu, 03 Nov 2011 05:52:00 +0000

A few here.

One here.

There's no limits when
you're queer.

Don't believe in definition. Believe in space.

Sometimes there is.
Sometimes there isn't.

Meager sounds

noreply@blogger.com (danny cosmic microwave) — Thu, 03 Nov 2011 05:49:00 +0000

He left me because of some words. Didn't even speak them aloud. Just writing.

Yes, and him, too.
Because of words. Written.

So many men gone for words.

But the women, I've seen, love them. Words. Words and women.

Sculpting air with sounds.

Can't stop.
Won't.

Fuckers

noreply@blogger.com (danny cosmic microwave) — Thu, 03 Nov 2011 05:42:00 +0000

She likes older men
because, and I agree,
they are tired.

It's a dime on the last few bends;
faster each turn. Losing time; gaining light. A spiral that doesn't quit-- but does.

Youth kicks. Screams.
Shadow-boxing.

Breathe. Remind.
Enjoy defeat.

Recursion

noreply@blogger.com (danny cosmic microwave) — Mon, 24 Oct 2011 14:48:00 +0000

Fascinated by the silly names,
he stood and watched
the dancing colossals.

Each donning colors.
Armed with every
means.
Lashing and swimming.

Each one hungrier than the other.

"How long could this go on?", he asked.
But, no response was cast.

Orwell

noreply@blogger.com (danny cosmic microwave) — Sat, 22 Oct 2011 15:15:00 +0000

It's coming up for air.
Gasping now.

Some of these buildings
are less than fifty years old.
But with no love, they
peel away.

Rotting bridges.

A blue obsession with
the tune. Ignoring the fork.

It's just less.

Clinging to me will be
eerie corners overrun with
looming rhododendrons.
Dank wood. The dark hollow.

No more.
Rock City, pull us West.

Rocky

noreply@blogger.com (danny cosmic microwave) — Thu, 20 Oct 2011 16:02:00 +0000

We were the scouts.

Small.

Separate.

Decidedly uninvolved.

Prying the ridge from

darkness. Something

echoing lightly.

My dog doesn't pant.

We listen.

And become.

Lovie likes my rhythm

noreply@blogger.com (danny cosmic microwave) — Thu, 20 Oct 2011 04:41:00 +0000

Rolling quick
in any sky that happens,
each word slips
spinning like an eddy
over the word before it,
bending to a world beyond,
and briefly,

each one hangs
weightless.
world-less.

Like me locked
with you. Our eyes
holding us up.

Against any sky
that happens.

memory-weight

noreply@blogger.com (danny cosmic microwave) — Wed, 19 Oct 2011 15:47:00 +0000

It's not like a sandwich.

She's on her knees;
the laptop fan
whirring on her back

while he giggles,
and occasionally
moans
something vague.

people-tired

noreply@blogger.com (danny cosmic microwave) — Fri, 14 Oct 2011 23:51:00 +0000

i wonder if
he still thinks that our brains are
separate from our bodies?

does he still think my women are
better?

does he still think wine tastes terrible?

good distance.

illness waking

noreply@blogger.com (danny cosmic microwave) — Sun, 09 Oct 2011 01:53:00 +0000

hanging from
lovers' ears,

post modern nano-gardens

are

living capsules.

inside: a djinn.

rub your head.

imagine your wish.

make it happen.

human threat

noreply@blogger.com (danny cosmic microwave) — Sun, 09 Oct 2011 01:48:00 +0000

it was too late.

"i'm no danger!" i yelled.

but she'd already flown out from between the cars,

and into the street.

her chicks looked up at me

like i was something other than a pedestrian.