Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Peace of Mind

This is a poem/turned song that I started and have yet to finish - Dave

Peace of Mind
By David Karp

I got three dollars in my pocket
And a penny for my thoughts
If that were true, I’d be a rich man
It’s the working life I’ve got

And if I hit the big time
Baby, I’ll leave this town behind
And escape the things that bind me
And find a little peace of mind

And I could just sit here for hours
And dream the day away
But when the dream don’t come true
Oh, I should have knew it’s be the lesson every day

And if I hit the big time
Baby, I’ll leave this town behind
And escape the things that bind me
And find a little peace of mind

It’s just me and my coffee
Yeah, they know me here by name
They ask “how’s life goin’?”
I smile and say “just playin’ the same old little game”

And if I play my card’s right
Baby, I’ll leave this town behind
And escape the things that bind me
And find a little piece of mind


Untitled and Czech Countryside

There is an endless blue in you,
Far darker than blue,
Its in stark contrast to black,
Endless and infinite,

Even as you sit staring at the endlessly shifting screen of interchangeable earth,
And walk in light to the sun,
While a butterfly beats it's wings causing a notion of calm around the world,
For the smoke fades in the last winds of time,

Then infinite is bountiful in it's final page,
Turning to white with no light as the sun ate you whole,
Staying land locked with the endless before you,
To afraid to explore anything but home,

The blue turns dusk spotted lights,
Froth bursts lightly like fire and cannons-and green too becomes a desire-
in the spot of ecstasy,
Of intolerable imaginative beliefs-

for the light to never fade
like love fading from hearts.

The poem was untitled so as the reader can form a meaning that is significant to themselves. If I had labeled it anything but a poem, I felt it would have lost most of it's essence.
The following poem was written while I was studying abroad in the Czech Republic.
Justin Vaisnor


Czech Countryside

Green and yellow
Fields of grass,
Dark clusters of
Inviting trees,
Rolling homely hills.

From out of the ground,
An uncomforting image.

Smoke travels high,
Spewing to the atmosphere,
Like a dreaded mushroom cloud.

The fields, the forests,
And those holy glorious hills,
Are disturbed by monsters.

The number,
Like the number of directions,
And neither,
Can point to what is right.

Those beasts help and harm,
The gigantic smoke stacks expel,
Pain and questions.

Summer 2010, Czech Republic
   Justin Vaisnor

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

The Casualty and The Observer

I'm putting these two poems together because they belong in the same short collection I plan to finish in the near future. Thanks!- Dave

taken by a friend of me watching the sunrise on Masada


The Casualty
By David Marcus Karp

You will see, boys
You will see
City lights reflecting bac on me

I am nothing
Without time flying

I’ll let the world be
You’ll find it, you’ll see

I am lost now
In a sea of sunlight
Old city walls glow with time that’s gone

Everybody
Searching for their own sense of peace
All the children crying in a song

Prayers are blowing
Through dust and wind
Tryin’ to find an ear that will listen

The desert’s flooding
With tears of broken hearts
Won’t anybody look at the world today?

Riots, rage and rubble
Shouldn’t tell my story
I swear that one day
I’ll find this place’s glory

I swear that one day
I’ll find this place’s glory


The Observer
By David Marcus Karp

The fire falls
The sirens cry
The sky is silent
And so am I

What’s happened here
What story’s told
Could any person
Be so bold?

Sometimes it gets so cold
Sometimes I feel so old

I wanna love the world again

No Harm, Love True Too?


Through the skies that reach toward the heavens,
To the place I fantasize,
There lived a fairly new-fairly fair to call-beauty,
One has never seen,

She had eyes of pearls,
Skin of budding flowers in the fresh fallen rain,
Alone in the notion,
She dreams of a peaceful ocean in pearly blue,

No not in a tower,
She can’t rest even one hour,
Looking down upon those that would-
Look down upon her,

She throws back the curtains-light streams through,
Wind rushes around,
She screams a triumphant summon,
Her voice is loud and true,

None can hear for they are not aware,
Of the beauty standing there,
She bare her soul to those abound,
And if you dare say she means harm-you lack charm,

Blinded by shades of sound,
Deaf of light forth screens,
Touch what is really there-that physical story,
That which is around you-love you once knew,

Feigning life and people is not true,
Not to me-not to you,
She would bawl no more should one realize,
None can mask that which is materialized.
Justin Vaisnor

So Much More to Hear


rap is to represent,
folk is for all folks,
rock compared to the man-
kind'a like jazz to bop and
blues for the soul,
whereas soul is just soulful,
and hip-hop not for the hipster,
mainstream is by far lamestream,
but reggae don't care,
and dubstep don't ya dare,
electronica is no prima donna,
though you could catch me at the opera,
no matter your preference one thing's for certain:
no one can ever say music has had it's final curtain.
Justin Vaisnor

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

O! Distractions


By Justin Vaisnor

O!
Videogames, I’ll play-
Music, I’ll listen to-
Concerts! I’ll go see them make beau-

television, what lies does the news hold this day?
movies, what do my peers dream of through cgi?

O!
Facebook, I’ll look at-
…Mobile device, I’ll talk to-
Youtube, I’ll vote on what I see-

articles, journals, magazines, novels, newspapers-
whatever! reading is such a hassle.

O!
Family, let’s drink-
Friends, let’s drink-
I, will drink like nothing’s wrong-

Radio, what do you say and not show?
Privacy, what can’t you hide?

O!
Freedom, I’ll provide-
Love, the seed to sow-
O! if I can only feel-O!

distractions all around-
my, non-environmentally sound nature.

O!
Self-destruction, I’ll blow up in my face-
O!
Money, I’ll be more corrupt than you honey-
O!
O! O! Life! I’ll lose control to the world that has a knife!

Responsibility, what have I done?
Trust, what have you?

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

The Wide Awake Weekend Poems

So I wrote these two poems when I had insomnia this past weekend and didn't sleep the Friday night-Saturday morning. Hope you enjoy!- Dave


4:11 am
By David Marcus Karp

Sea of reflections of the night
Streetlights guide me through the open
Flashes of electricity excite the eyes
Through the tunnel of steel thunder

Sleeping, woken, moving, THINKING
Nothing, guarding, loving, thinking
Nothing, nothing, lying, thinking
Nothing, nothing, nothing, thinking
Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing

Where do I go from here?

Home was such a yesterday
Dreaming is the present
Finding “fearless” future feels forever
Can I go back a few stops?

Time is non-existent now
But only a few stops away

This is…


Insomnia
By David Marcus Karp

When you can’t tell apart sunrise from sunset
And your eyes are useless shutters
Thoughts from head, heart, and soul collide
And you just become part of any crowd wandering

You’ve seen me in the deadest of nights
I’m good nor bad, just another reality
I’m walking the streets of raw consciousness
Or driving on empty streets looking for a friend

Waiting for some dreamed up escape
And rolling the dice on truth
It’s the only honest deal in a world gone astray
And you realize you may have always been the only one awake

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Sometimes

By David Marcus Karp


Sometimes, when I’m sitting alone
I feel safest, and I feel happy
Knowing that I’m content with my life
Music plays, people live, and the air is bittersweet
But sometimes, I feel paranoid
Like they all look at me and even sometimes see nothing there
Sometimes I feel the eyes
And they make me shiver endlessly, and I see my breath in the coldness of myself
Why? Because I don’t care
Sometimes I realize that I’m not perfect
And the perfectionist in me becomes a little white lie
Sometimes the loneliness stares me in the eyes
And stands between everything I stand for
I find in me both a paradise and a paradox
And the reality gets harder to the touch
But that’s the price you pay
When you want nothing but the truth everyday
You take whatever’s in stock
Happy, sad, good, bad
As long as it’s not a lie, as long as it makes you feel something
That’s the way I live
Sometimes I feel happy, sometimes I feel sad
Sometimes I feel lonely, sometimes I feel content
No matter which “sometimes” it is
I always feel alive.

Fear or Love? Evermore?


Cast
            Away the vision of yesterday, use the pill of soma to feel no soma.

Dodge
            The arrow from cupid whose aim is to slay, to bring forth a coma.

Lie
            No longer or dismay, truth is more tranquil than a sauna.

Say
            What you wish to say, feels more comforting than your momma.

Give
            All that you are today, and find you will be here longer.

Act
            As you really are, the world is not one for the seller.

Crumble
            The walls of black tar, make your lungs even clearer.

For
            You stand among the rest, unwilling to get nearer.

Love
            Will be our greatest test, we must not fear the terror.

Get together-it is great!-when one looks into the mirror.

By Justin Vaisnor