candiedyams.blogspot.com
Candied Yams
http://candiedyams.blogspot.com/2007/05/deifying-gravity-you-proclaimed.html
Candide, I am Word Assn. 2004 by Christopher J. Tanzola. Friday, May 25, 2007. You proclaimed yourself a fighter. You knocked the bishop out from under his miter. With Newton, your high priest. And his minions around him. You looked for a Messiah. And, by God, you found him. Necks bowed, in vestigal depravity. On your knees, worshipping gravity. You logged on in the lumber camps of technology. With the hard wired veins of your cyber-biology. With Einstein, your Saviour. And the kids, and their 'net.
candiedyams.blogspot.com
Candied Yams: 01/01/2005 - 02/01/2005
http://candiedyams.blogspot.com/2005_01_01_archive.html
Candide, I am Word Assn. 2004 by Christopher J. Tanzola. Thursday, January 20, 2005. I am a building of old stone. I strive not to. I feel my walls strain. I sense the rain. In every cornice line. What does a building know? I see folly on the sidewalk below. I see the chemistry of greed. The alchemy of isolation. Growing rings of brick and mortar. Like a tree grows. I exist and strive. Posted by Chris at 7:05 PM. View my complete profile. Deifying Gravity You proclaimed yourself a fighte.
candiedyams.blogspot.com
Candied Yams
http://candiedyams.blogspot.com/2004/09/1-bedroom-den-we-existed-on-diet-of.html
Candide, I am Word Assn. 2004 by Christopher J. Tanzola. Monday, September 20, 2004. We existed on a diet of nothing but gruel. With peat moss for fuel. Living in a hovel. No bigger than your navel. But what was really amazing. In the midst of all this navel-gazing. Was the enmity I bore you. How I loathed and abhorred you. And, had the world not been so flat. I surely would have pushed you. Off the edge of it. Or something like that. Posted by Chris at 8:33 PM. September 21, 2004 at 8:29 PM.
candiedyams.blogspot.com
Candied Yams: 05/01/2007 - 06/01/2007
http://candiedyams.blogspot.com/2007_05_01_archive.html
Candide, I am Word Assn. 2004 by Christopher J. Tanzola. Friday, May 25, 2007. You proclaimed yourself a fighter. You knocked the bishop out from under his miter. With Newton, your high priest. And his minions around him. You looked for a Messiah. And, by God, you found him. Necks bowed, in vestigal depravity. On your knees, worshipping gravity. You logged on in the lumber camps of technology. With the hard wired veins of your cyber-biology. With Einstein, your Saviour. And the kids, and their 'net.
candiedyams.blogspot.com
Candied Yams
http://candiedyams.blogspot.com/2004/09/fab-five-im-listening-to-gord-downie.html
Candide, I am Word Assn. 2004 by Christopher J. Tanzola. Tuesday, September 14, 2004. I’m listening to Gord Downie. Bash me to sleep with elusive brilliance. With inexplicable, dense, and convoluted meaning. With terrible disasters and snarling beasts. And high-wire sonic feats. That dangle in the ephemera. Like a cigarette perched. On the rhythm guitarist’s. In the total mythology. Of the tragically hip. Posted by Chris at 8:44 PM. View my complete profile. The Buffet You lived life like an omnivore at t.
candiedyams.blogspot.com
Candied Yams: 05/01/2004 - 06/01/2004
http://candiedyams.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html
Candide, I am Word Assn. 2004 by Christopher J. Tanzola. Monday, May 31, 2004. I watched you stride purposefully. From your car this morning. Preparing yourself for the return. You and I are both subject to inclemencies. The various pissing vagaries. But tonight I expect. Mine will endure sometime. Another slice of life from the commuter parking lot). Posted by Chris at 8:05 AM. Friday, May 28, 2004. Bridge May Be Icy. Bridge may be icy and aloof. The pavement may shrug. And sidewalks may just stand there.
candiedyams.blogspot.com
Candied Yams: 07/01/2004 - 08/01/2004
http://candiedyams.blogspot.com/2004_07_01_archive.html
Candide, I am Word Assn. 2004 by Christopher J. Tanzola. Monday, July 05, 2004. You lived life like an omnivore at the buffet. To the beautiful feast. To the uncomfortable dismay. You shouted life like a barker on the midway. To the bellowing beast. And the jarring disarray. You flung life like a knife-thrower is his heyday. And just a hair’s breadth away. Posted by Chris at 1:06 PM. View my complete profile. Deifying Gravity You proclaimed yourself a fighte. Architexture I am a building of old stone I ex.
candiedyams.blogspot.com
Candied Yams
http://candiedyams.blogspot.com/2006/08/due-date-when-you-are-seventy-years.html
Candide, I am Word Assn. 2004 by Christopher J. Tanzola. Tuesday, August 01, 2006. When you are seventy years old. And your mother is rounding the bend. And I am a chiselled one liner. Memorable, pithy, aphoristic dad. Walker yourself over to the memory box. And spend a quiet moment. Reflecting on the eternity in your bones. The antiquity in your liquids. The sinews, hamstrings, ropes of veins. And even this instant. This primeval, antedilluvian pause in thought. When dear old dad. Good luck with that.
candiedyams.blogspot.com
Candied Yams
http://candiedyams.blogspot.com/2004/09/word-of-explanation-sometimes-when-you.html
Candide, I am Word Assn. 2004 by Christopher J. Tanzola. Friday, September 17, 2004. A word of explanation: sometimes when you are watching Barry Bonds chase down mythical numbers, you remember that you wrote a poem about Ted Williams and the fight between members of his family to see who could desecrate his memory fastest .). Splendid, he thinks. Splendid Ted Williams decapitated. No, not some other .400 hitter come ‘round. Not some new ballgamer with an eagle’s eye. Ted Williams Ted Williams himself.
