The Rotten, Pickled, Fish-Eyes and the Women Who Loved Them... A Screaming Jerry Springer Love-Fest...

"Don't show 'em yer hootenanny!!!" screamed a highly ed-u-cafied, hillbilly lady..., a compromisational creative medium met me medium way to the shape of a block on the merry, march towards death, we the creative hop and skip towards perception minus less than abstract creative contractions..., the death of creative inquiry is all around..., ego-encouraged movements should not be permitted to use artificial transportations..., I need a holster for my notebooks, for I write wild smoke and light-beams...

- Eric J. Brinovec

(featured in the poetry forum 01.04.10)

I Turned Around and Kicked My Shadow..., It Was Being Too Clingy...

I just wish my shadow would give me some personal space... it keeps invading it, maybe I’ll get a restraining order on it... insanity appeared and cast a bright, white shadow on my broken shoe, I had no idea what to do about it, I guess I’ll just go and water the infidels, they’re wilting again..., I suspected granularity of immense tininess, but I just couldn’t prove it..., I’ll have to hire the plastic-encrusted, fried detectives next time..., I’ve seen your brain-stimulation process, and I don’t like it..., I can rain down a more interesting one, and don’t touch the orange powder...

- Eric J. Brinovec

(featured in the poetry forum 10.28.09)

Rescuing Nothing

I went in search of nothing, I wanted to know more about its non-existence, I eventually found it bolted to a red shag carpet on a far away western mesa, You know nothing when You see it screaming under an unforgiving sun, They had cut a jagged hole in it, I could see nothing was clearly suffering...Dusty glass shards rained down from heavy blue, glass clouds, I took out my steel umbrella in one hand, and a hammer in the other to take out the nails that appeared to be made of a light only a god could manifest, nothing was clearly grateful, but said nothing...We faced each other, acknowledged each other silently, and drifted opposite ways...I suspect in the travellings of nothing, It was just in search of meaning, I suspected it wanted to figure out out what it was, and ultimately find out if it was a form of something...It coveted form, meaning, and definition fiercely...

- Eric J. Brinovec

(featured in the poetry forum 09.20.09)

Infinity Zoned

Someone noticed I still existed in a sprayed mist of tiny eyeballs, I drifted in a circle, that was a triangle, sphere, and a rectangle,… all encased in a square, walking became challenging, terror (Psychological) became overwhelmingly terrifying, panic. I seen a man eat an equation before I could get there, it was too late. I only grazed the frequency I couldn’t and wasn’t designed to hear within my genetic category (Human)…

- Eric J. Brinovec

(added 08.13.09)

Frozen apples fiercely flaming on fire while frozen solid

I looked at the dreams wavering on my right forearm, tires danced and rolled gleefully, molten glass smiled at the sun, and the moon felt neglected, A cloud of comets remained in place trying to take this all in(perceptively), I looked into a pot of boiling spaghetti noodles, and each noodle was a tiny freight train and I thought about baskets fulls of yet tinier baskets waiting to be sold into mundane slavery, a psychotic man swam in a swimming pool of glass shards, he felt like he was in heaven before he quickly bled to death, all the freshly formed open wounds tried to form their own union under the pretense that they served a purpose in the scheme of things good or bad as they are normally perceived...

- Eric J. Brinovec

(featured in the poetry forum 08.13.09)

2.

Human-shaped, creatures comprised of eyeballs drove the molten men of steel west, surviving on boot meat, they marched on carpets carved of unmelting ice. It rained severed monkey hands that day as they determinedly traveled to find what they hoped to be a better place... they looked to the sky, and a cloud of smoke cut the moon in half, it split apart and human limbs flew out, the sun smiled, and all the mountains howled... Blood drops curiously rained out of the ground and up to the sky, selfish prayers were broadcasted out of the speaker towers on the hilltops, Only a god could wish or will them the best...

- Eric J. Brinovec

(added 07.02.09)