Trace William Cowen.

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You cannot smother the heart
peerless and uncommon
She struggles
beneath a pillow
She will always
speak your name

Do you really want to be
exactly the same?

One day
you will wake
to find
you haven’t a name

They will call you by a number
They will bet on your every blunder
And on that
depend

Do you really want to be
something that fits?

One day
you split
to find
you haven’t any ribs

They will call you as a blob
Married to the slob
And to that
attend

Do you really want to be
another frog in a jar?

One day
“Au revoir.”
the mind lights
the soul’s cigar

They will discuss your every organ
Reduce your life to medical jargon
And with that
descend

You cannot suffocate the heart
exceptional and ablaze
She flails
beneath a plastic bag
She will always
know your name

Beautiful
Patient
She will always wait
but you can only break her
She can only be
Broken.

Tags: /Trace William Cowen /Words /Writing /Art

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Bleach on Your Hair in California

I coined a phrase
or borrowed
from something
you or someone like you
would say
or think to say but never really
maybe letters from the phrase
but never fully
maybe hint at its definition
without understanding
yes
if you were good at anything
if you’ve ever acquired a skill
well
knowing you
you would call it a trade
and your trade is
dodging
leaping from buildings
with the comfort
you placed
a mattress beneath
and the best
the kind on TV upon which the wine doesn’t spill
what’s the shakes without the thrills
I’ll say it again
with structure
and aim
“What’s the shakes without the thrills?”
and what’s this word?
you’ll say
what’s it mean?
Well
I do not know
I’m like you in this way
I’m choosing not to understand
See
there’s always intention in misunderstanding
There is always intent
to __________
but the word
Yes?
the word is
“Asyndesis”

Tags: /Trace William Cowen /Words /Writing /Art /asyndesis

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Separate, Pull Apart Loose Threads

I met her with flowers
She placed them on the counter
Near water in a faucet
I could almost hear them
scream for it
We decided on coffee
We took her car
She drove
I’m in a seatbelt
some awful band plays
at a volume too low
For anyone to know
or notice
But it’s all for the better
and somewhere near the best
She parks
close to the entrance
We order something
different
vastly

you would think we weren’t together

We sit near the window
She starts to talk
It’s small
Everything is small
and diminished by
anything that happens to coincide
A fly
a cough
a chunk of ice
I reach for a book
from the shelf
the one where people take what they want
exchange one book for another
It’s always the same books
the same authors
this says a lot or very little about
how much people read
and not only that
but what they read
(They read nothing)
It’s a book on parenting
I pretend to flip through
I’m a child
naturally
I don’t want children

you would think we weren’t together

I finish my coffee
somewhere near
a page of advice about
discipline
I have none and never will
I drift
Smiles are exchanged
She’s still talking
small
so small
So little too soon
I see a fly
someone coughs
There is too much ice in this blend
All so interesting!
I hold the door
as we leave
passing others
Holding hands or laughing
one in a corner
He’s alone with a book he will not exchange
it’s a good book
his mouth hangs open
he sips hot coffee in hot weather
He is bold
and alone
and for a moment I want to be him

you would think we weren’t together

The drive back to her house
a different awful band
lesser volume
greater plans
the highway beneath us like soft drums
brushes against cymbals
I’m a guitar
I’m a guitar
I’m a guitar
she’s a cello in the wrong section
a violinist in the breakdown
I’m a folk singer in a Madonna rehearsal
everyone’s naked and I’m wrapped in scarves
I don’t know who I am or what song I’m supposed to sing

you would think we weren’t together

Through the door
a cat brushes my ankles
he is fatter now but I like it
No one is home
but we’re here now
still
no one is home
I sigh
or cough
I really can’t recall
I vomit
some vague explanation
about the meaninglessness of it all
How the pieces don’t fit
How the sky is too quick
for such rains to fall
How it really doesn’t matter
never mattered at all

“You would think we weren’t together.”

so now we’re not
we are not together

Tags: /Trace William Cowen /Art /Words /Writing /relationships

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Matters? Of Course!

If you don’t like the movies
if the characters seem a little dry
Go!
Make a movie.

If you don’t like the songs
if the notes are a little high
Go!
Sing a song.

If you don’t like the novels
if every word’s a lie
Go!
Write a novel.

If you don’t like the paintings
if the colors lack a vibe
Go!
Reap a painting.

If you don’t like your life
if reality’s begun its bite
Go!
Live someone else’s.

Tags: /Trace William Cowen /Art /Words /Writing /Go!

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Tomorrow, Younger Than Today

It was
now it isn’t
I was
now I’m not
She was
now she wouldn’t

We were
now we aren’t

Now we couldn’t

Tags: /Trace William Cowen /Art /Words /Writing /chance

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I Don't Want to Sleep

I don’t want to sleep
because I don’t want to miss
something
I don’t want to miss anything

I don’t want to sleep
because I’m hungry

I don’t want to sleep
because the night is cold
and I’m moving through it
Warm in a blanket

I don’t want to sleep
because someone’s cat
is clawing a door that is locked
at the front of a house where
no one is home or no one even lives there

I can’t remember

I don’t want to sleep
because the carpet beneath my feet
seems softer
here
in the artificial light
and I’d like to think I’m walking
on clouds or water
at night I’m God or Jesus
or something
someone in between them
A sister or a brother
a pet they adored
but in text ignored

I don’t want to sleep
because the color red is absent
he caves in to what’s left
whatever that is

I don’t want to sleep
because it just might pass me
by
It just might miss the page
The camera might drop
missing my only shot
You know
when it comes
roaring from your heart

you’re convinced you have a soul

everything I need to say comes down that
jangling railroad
I miss it and I’m
dead

I don’t want to sleep
because I can’t.

Tags: /Trace William Cowen /Words /Writing /Art /Sleep

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I am a child I'm all alone I am a child All the animals are gone

The shoes rest
on empty boxes
Near magazines
footprints from foxes
Imaginary ones
great coats of fur
They move so fast
the colors blur
Sad white
Whatever gold
I’ve never seen them
It’s always night

and I’m never home

Tags: /Trace William Cowen /Art /Writing /Words /foxes /fox

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Captured & Enlightened Me (Stay)

Ask him for a future
he will point you to some paper
well you can use my pen
least I could do
and my only offering

Flee

Ask him for a past
he will point you to some photographer
well you can use my camera
least I could do
and my only method of

Capturing

Ask him for the present
he will point you to some gift
well you can use my excitement
least I could do
and my only argument against

Enlightenment

Ask me for anything
I will offer everything
well you can use me just use me
least I could do
if my only chance at

Knowing you

Tags: /Trace William Cowen /art /Words /writing /enlightenment /Stay

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Trees

The tree
will leave
but drag
his roots

With him wherever he goes

Forever.

Tags: /Trace William Cowen /art /writing /words /roots