“Push Tha Button” by Samurai_PET (deviantART)
Skatterbombed
JCD Kerwin
I will strap dynamite to my chest,
wait,
whisper numbers
from my lips,
and push the button.
Finally,
I will have explored
every inch
of this waiting world.
(September, 2013)
….Get it?
“City of Angels-City of Light” by M Bleichner (acrylic)
El-ay, El-ay
JCD Kerwin
I want Hollywood and a high-rise,
palm trees and SoCal skies.
Wish I could slam beats
into sand
and scream songs
with my eyes closed.
I want the glitter and glam
of rock stars
I wish that I could be.
Wanna walk down streets
reciting poems,
and write stories
in cabanas,
sipping coffee without a coat.
Wish I could stare at stars,
and talk all night with friends
in Santa Barbara bars.
I want to skip across the water,
and tightrope the suspension
of the San Francisco bridge.
Wish I could run across
the country,
leave the mirror behind
and never buy another
again.
(Dec. 2010, rev. Aug. 2013)
About this…I’m not saying I want to up and leave to California.
This is about the fact I have, and have always had, a “travel bug” in me. Ever since I was a kid. I think a lot of writers do. Kinda goes back to the fact we’re all dreamers. I’m an explorer. Always wanted to see and do everything I could. Explore the world…Fight monsters…Slay dragons…All that.
You know what I mean.
On the Burning Away
JCD Kerwin
A siren screams and
radiates back the screen
of my black and white, black static
cellophane, underwater,
claustrophobic world.
I never see,
never see,
I never ever see kaleidoscope colors,
never a light-bright cornucopia of
my ten-year-old, happy-go-lucky dreams.
Those stupid fucking reveries
blew up in brimstone fire when
I learned there’s no such thing as Faraway
and you can’t sew stars into your pockets.
[The fruit of a thousand apple trees would
taste better if the snake would nicely mention
the seeds are made of cyanide.
Instead my eyes go wide
as I lean back and hack
for air while I wait to breathe again.]
It all fades together in the same old
coffee-drenched, psychotic robotic days.
The air smells like burning plastic and
we’re all electric blinking lights trying so damn hard
to make math problems into Green jobs because
no one gives a shit about paper anymore.
Libraries are just graveyards for all the little children’s dreams.
When I grow up I’ll keep a junkyard
so I can save out-of-date non-collectibles
that everyone’s forgotten and
everyone thinks are just myths
and legends of a time that never was.
(I’ll keep books in my basement and
become a relic just like them.)
I’ll wrap myself in armor
and scream stories at computer screens
and make-believe
the people of the world can hear me when I say
I’m saving them…
I’m saving them…
I just want to save you.
Oct., 2012
J.C.D. KERWIN 