FOR A THOUGHT

TO BE

TRUE

IT MUST PASS

THROUGH

SEVEN LAKES

Collected Poems
J. Wes Unruh



For a thought

To be true it must pass through seven lakes

To be true it must dissolve

To be true it must linger in the air

To be true it must matter to oneself

To be true it must drift for a day

To be true it must flatten the moment

To be true it must follow the vibrant

To be true it must be false and forgotten

it must needs already begotten

a sinister hand

on the sideline of meaning for

if a thought is meant

to be true

it must pass through seven lakes.


IN THE YEAR 2020 WE ALL STAYED HOME


The frost blown sears

moments in reason

and I welcome them,

blown in from across these dreams

we share together

split bottle, seek warmth,

flours, prospective bargains,


old doors open inward,

blood sworn pastoral


I remain solitude and the light

the road is new, besotted,

and through it all I speak to myself,

anchors are thorns, leave waves,

shores, wife's arms,


"We are all out to sea."


broken streets, lamp bright

on moonless night, sidewalk

crawling - saw snakes that year,


rubber mat, bumper rails

these masks, shields, new towns

be years before they catch it.


DEAD MAN IN WONDERLAND


three. You need three

eyes. Our reed spoke

and besides the new hope

should be lies

for our smoke

we disguise


YOWL


I hit that

hard back

high chair

with a snapped

out scream.

Them adults

Them clod bopping

hard tromping

Adults come

bearing in @ me

w/ their plastic

forks loaded down

with mush fer

me to eat

& I freak.

Just a moment

before, I had been

watching a swatch

of color undulate

from the box

on the other

side of the counter


offering me

mush while

blocking my view

was enough

to make me

scream and cry

for the rest of the night.


ADVICE ON MENTION OF THE YOUNG


Politics

like ignorance

plays havoc

w/ information

systems


Social noise is

interferring

w/ the broadcast

signals


Information

is energy

for the Human

machinery.


UNNOTICING


Proof, profound

Transformations

Quick change, shadows,

Blend the morning

then coalesce,

Dreamers sullied

by now tragic forms


nostalgic?

nor sullen

Elsewhere, is all


WEEK JOB


So I'm working this

Corporation gig-

nerve center of tele babble,

run the rabble through

their mazes, litigations,

investments, business

brochures, backhanded

slurs, and media fables

for CEO tables and

board room meetings

behind closed doors

where fearless leaders

snore off on mute,

a little cosmos of chaos

given hierarchy through structure.

They pay me to listen

in on them, taking me,

that uninvolved neutral

sworn to wage slave secrecy

not to buy out their

bonds minutes before

word hits the street,

And they trust me

because I'm poor,

they know I ain't

got the connections

or the knowhow to

burn a big deal.

Hell, they don't even

know what company

I work for half the

time.


They're Just Happy

As Hell I'm Not

A Recording!!!


People

It takes People

To feel like you

are really communicating.


The simplest truth:

All thought is conjecture.

They project upon me.


BEGOTTEN


language Bearers,

Photographers, Diary

makers,


You with your memory

are dead, frozen


Lost in a present that

Never stops passing


Here lives the incantation

of matter


A language forever

like a flame burning away the darkness

Life is flesh on bone convulsing above the ground


If yr not attuned

to the channel

you never get

the message


Invisible everts

the material


Or


The material

belies the Invisible


You can always

Reboot.


You can always

Start over,

Back at nothing

and struggle

Upward

once more


@ & w/ *


who are you

that voice

echo mirror

I have no answer


where did you come from?

time flooded me forward

lust, most likely

never found my past


what have you done?

self destruction…

deception, desertion,

scribbled my name across a ton of paper


why do you exist?

the roll of the dice

someone played w/ fire

ask the mother i never met


when will you understand?

after the madness,

after the tragedy,

there might be a purpose


how do you cope?

madhouse psychiatric

psychoactive drugs

stare @ the aborted suicide scars


do you have dreams?

(a few, sometimes)

(they share my blood)


do you have dreams?

nightmare drenched

hope for answers

you could call them dreams


what motivates you?

motivation implies direction

direction implies movement

reason for movement is pain


what is your greatest accomplishment?

to date,

@ this juncture

i loved & was loved


what is your greatest weakness?

hours slip past

new mistakes every moment

i fear the commitment of love


if you died now, who would come to your funeral?

power in the question

this is the measure of a life

relatives, two lovers perhaps, a sprinkle of friends


what would you want on your tombstone?

marble & chrome

futhark engravings

a wolf, a ram, a *, & a ?


does this world need you?

shadows on streetlights cracked pavement

i will not know until i have attempted my changes


what would fulfill you most?

laughter instead of tears

tears replacing laughter

stand on a mountain

knowing where i came from,

& curse the society of mankind

for its treatment of those who dream of beauty (and i have, and have)


THERE IN THAT SMALL TOWN


library was read

box of books @ a time


friends were counted on one hand

school belt strict


the cowboys & the skinheads

that's the warzone

so i heard


airport was my playground

hanger watched planes torn apart

mechanic & a Coke


sagebrush hill desert

canyon, waterfall

two until the dam(n)


house built from ground up

took twelve years to finish

then sold it


mowed lawns & stole money

support my video addiction


cigarettes as a deathwish

fifteen, present from friend,

2 packs of viceroys,

smoked four in a row,

threw up for twenty minutes…

thought i was strong


first lust was a year older

she had the aura of innocence

she was my best friend's steady

fate denied me momentum


had four dogs then

the first one to die

we put to sleep

she was 91 in dog years


second was run over

adopter backed over it w/ the white utility van

dog screamed as she took it in

it was put to sleep

105 in dog years


& the flashes of memory

remember reagan shot

challenger exploding

star trek came on @ four

never missed an episode

until it was replaced by the wild wild west

all reruns


saw spock die in the theater

e.t. flew a bicycle

& the dark crystal was beauty


empire struck back

the last movie

was the last crusade

adopter took me on a whim

strange, he hates theaters


remember uncle ray

bad back, lived w/ us

(walked from alaska one summer)

he hiked the canal w/ me


one day we found a skinless dog

on the bank of the canal

it was greenish, rotting

i was young then


uncle would smoke

take crayons & melt them

tell me they were cigarette butts

"That's what they do to your lungs"

melt them on the side of the barrel i burned trash in


he hurt his back working for my father

from then on we watched the rockford files together

sometimes he hunted rabbit w/ a slingshot

or pheasant w/ a bow


don't remember when he moved out

just that my adopters said he was living in sin


he never ignored me when i was young

if he did

i idolized him anyway


he walked from alaska

ate dandelions the whole way

that demands respect


i remember the christmas i got my computer

c-64, top of the line

even had a monitor

no printer, no modem


all my games were pirated

-Tom the Pirate-

(who ever he was

he was my hero)

zork i, ii, iii…

the bard's tale…

never completed elite


spent all my time in front of that screen

it placed me in control

nothing but keystrokes separated me from godhood

fresh from science-fiction books


i read schrödinger's cat under the covers

flashlight in one hand

that was the book my adopters found

called it trash & put the library on notice

"Watch what he checks out"

No Stephen King…

bad for my mind


read pet semetary & it

cujo & night shift

skeleton crew & the stand

all w/in a year of the ban


blue lakes mall promised arcade

gauntlet took my money for weeks

@ the Y i mastered asteroids


first high school play

had the lead role

no one knew their lines @ the last rehearsal

two hours later we performed it flawlessly

the director was stunned


broke into the school in the middle of the night

stole a rat that was to be fed to the snake

seemed a small victory for the rat

the snake went hungry


i remember the movies that made me cry

red dawn & stand by me

now i laugh instead

it is far more effective

but harder to explain


in the mountains to the north

backpacked with my adopter

he showed me the beauty of nature

scared the shit out of me on mountain roads

& let me build the fire


& somewhere in that small town

in the hospital filed away

there is the name of the woman

who brought me into this world

& gave me away that very same day


there in that small town.


NOW IS THE ONLY THING THAT'S REAL


We are governed by

our myths, often

in unclear ways


standing against

that invisible djinn governance

is the rational,

but dis-heart-ened


for myths, while stern

taskmasters, do

imbue us with heart…


where we set aside

prejudice and bias

and only observe

the moment, our decisions

are anchored in the senses.


WORLD SINISTER


Shadows pulled from the core of memory

The endless tension of purity and pain

Wisdom in madness and infested religions

A night of all the things we have feared


The world we've sold our souls for

Wishing time could spiral together

And is this a face, mask or shell

Or all the tears put into place?

Eye moves in as skin moves back

All of it is still in existence

The street red with aspect rain

We've recast our redacted shadows


Street lights bastard city blues strobe

A hole more holy than any cross

Here we die for our own sins

Full of shit twice was wrong


Trauma fed off time and stole our minds

A word a grasp a collapsing scream

As my hatred peels back flesh

It uncovers the skull beneath


World sinister, silence and silver

World is anger's rage against pity

World of beauty twisted with secrets

World of growth on the corpse of man


It comes calling, waiting with madness

Asleep in the street outside your door

Grimness groaning, mental image

Rotting away at your inner core


ENGINE OF NEON


Proem>

common sense is what tells us time is linear

common sense is what tells us the earth is flat


Profanation>

the neon assembly, he sought out

the past, tore masks from graveyards

w/ the thoughts of… "what if"

a construct only, so what of it?


Professional>

stolen away behind closed doors

They meet, a handshake & a nod

before an illustrated diagram

display socioeconomic factions

threatening Their rule, They debate

trade secrets for doctrines

opiate traders vs. the discontented

keep us bound, unrevolting

the slave market booming

binge of the Neon Lords


Profile>

form lines, line up, mainline

not guilty by reason of society

inequity of equality

downtrodden on downer meth

for the jet-driven apathy

far beyond driven the market absorbs

all or nothing, the masters staring

radiating the absolutes: death, taxes,

as status quo demands market research

the slaves mark etched as desire

for criminal behavior

in the flesh of the carriers

a virus of addiction & need

sunk deep in our collective hard drives

(These invisible crime ring gatherings)


Profligacy>

this is the war zone

subliminal ideas against viral lies

conspiracy of slavers & jams

occulted history speeding onward

maybe & perhaps the revitalization of chaos

immanetizing the eschaton

mirroring you, finding itself awake


Profligate>

They have the disease of a neon godling

greedlings arise form the grunt lines

sublime translation for primetime exposure

the masters are laughing in Their stockrooms


Profusion>

may time be conquered in linear fashion by biocosmism

there is reason w/in the cage's walls

& jailminded patience is rewarded

the silence masking the controllers

master lords of neon redemption

sat together passing pipes to smash the neon

soldiers of the neon goslings

have evidence for the prosecution

(F--- the transition between aeon & epoch)


Progestational>

& this is the tool of the greatest of engines

to wear out the circuitry of this world of deception

by examining the insides of the mind of conception

the creation of decisions in the whirlwind of perfection…

aye, this is the struggle of the engine of neon

to escape the hate of former days & integrate a newer fate



STREAM


grass lush you were starting

spring

without us

a blossom like red

A shade off, a whisper

dead on a cotton

field cross

burns


we don't need you here

you hear, those two-souled

christian types speak from both sides

of the mouth


and what it portends


fragrant hump over, between and defied

thorn deeds, rose crown

Bushwhacked


Between hairballs and vomit my cat

She begs me solace

Come, free the soul

from the slavery of G-d


over the last rise

and there, treelines, a park fence

horseshoes, clover, a broken mirror

left shared, hardened, h-r majesty

in the dawn and across h-r flesh

I race, dress down

grovel and beg


You gasp, chase hands

across h-r labia, h-r landscape

I dream this


make of me rage

crown me with this

and we speak together

after the stream carries us

away back


from the front.


DREAM DAWN WORK DAY


It was dream dawn work day

Cars exploding the stillness

Dark ice fingerprinting life


Do you dream of television and altered terrain?


Ancient war demons gouging out eyes

No one to be with on a monday dawn

Lost caress vision

Stolen without dimension

Going insane alone at morning

Still stealing for food and rent

Dreaming of someone to dream with at night


Do eyes follow your footsteps as you wait?


No one is coming to save you but me

Dance? We still sing sometimes

I can melt gold for you

Spin the drained memories to rebirth

The kiss is the doorway

The heart locked in fears reborn


Dream dawn work day

Explode within, stillness of soul

Dream with me outloud


A*LONE


"Alone," she spoke…

each word caressing itself forward

"Out in the darkness the knowledge lies,

yet even those who wander will not find it."


this solitary cafe' where magic takes form

Dancing like shadows around our souls


"Wait" I had glimpsed something

"there, behind your eyes…

Do you hide dreams, memories?"


"No" she smiled softly,

more fear than ignorance

"My darkness is within, not out

you see with gemstones my friend…"


I left, now longing for return,

She still sits there…

contemplating nostalgia

now with closed mystery…

Now with ancient majesty…

now talking to H-rself.



LOST BETWEEN


Unstable and fragmentary, illusionary sensory reaction,

mystic elaborate reaction, enraged bitterness bleeding

finger tracing words on the walls

"no room no room no room"


I've looked for meaning and found more than I imagined,

all of it nothing, insubstantial shadows and unnatural void…

does it get any purer than this?


hearts all dirt and shit and remorse,

replaced lust with greed and desire with despair

remembering an innocence by touching the scars…

"I lost this to tragedy, this to excess, this to fear…"


a liturgy of soul-selling and dream-loss

lived off caffeine and nicotine

Addiction or vampirism?

maybe a little too much of both…


straining past what few barriers I have left,

mind unsure and awaiting encouragement…

need a script to make sense of the play.


"Words words words"

blood prince,

suicide,

to not be

and know you are not to be

and it is a form of freedom…

to see you are enslaved.


broken so long ago and still shattered…

it is building intensity within, given scorn,

I've been open-eyed in darkness,

waiting tears and ideas,

and ashamed and lost.


ON HEARST CASTLE


Over barren waste and silence seascapes

Humble nature bows to time

Letting mastery of form dominate the scars


We dare to confront the furies at their strongest not realizing that the final outcome is always madness, this treason of social morbid defecation in the face of all that is pure:

museums are nests of the worst scavenger

cannibalising emotions of the old masters

and burdening culture with cynicism


dark stark society of crass volunteerism

consumer values imploded void materialism

basing worth on price not craft of style

hollow against the structures

equally hollow in which they are contained

the mad mortals soft head

daring ancient goddesses to reinvent the curse


sweating the oaths of the morbid harmony

together we stand against sacred cows

and fresh ground meat our only sustenance

black skyline tracing extreme to extreme

in denial of the edge we plummet into meaninglessness