Thursday, December 8, 2011

Post 37- Another Big Project!

Today i finished my work on a poetic manuscript. Inside are a few old poems i've posted the last few months, but there's also a lot of newer material.

Enjoy, comment, and $upport!

The Book of

By Howard Noggle

Waning Moonlight


Go to that Dark Place
It is where things go
To Waste Away

Be sure to pack
Something to warm you
Cold awaits

Go to that Dark Place
When you're in the Light
The chill of your bones
May be warmed by solidarity

A student packs his bags
And a maid cleans the halls
Sun glares through windows

Ignore the sense of self
Trick your mind to follow
Into the pit

You're hopes
Are Simple
Compound them all

But forget sensibility
And devour instead
Any loose material
It may prolong your time

For you
Are only as good
As what you want

And when you drift apart
From the ones you love
Do not fear the

What's In The Fog

What is in that fog
That rolls over the San Francisco Bridge
There's a sort of fluffy consistency
That reminds you of marshmallows by the fire
Only wetter

Why am I enthralled by a natural occurrence

It might be related to the fear
Of something in the fog
Trying to hunt me down and find me
It half blind like me

Only able to look ahead

Perhaps the mist is meant to remind us
Of the unforeseen
The possibility
Of being hunted
The probability

Of what is really in the fog


I will to be
To see the combing clouds
Drift across the scalp of the Earth

I will to be
A man that doesn't smoke but meditates
In a shack by the pond
On our beastial nature

I will to hunt
Over flowing fields of grain
On top of mountains
And be seen

I will
Become what we forget
And run amok in the wilds
Through the books of wolves

You join me?


Nathaniel Hawthorne sat next to a source of water
For quite some time
Pondering and writing
Providing for himself

What he discovered I learned
Over a year of smoking in all kinds of weather
Through ran that dampened the light
And wind that snuffed out the flames

We are Wild Creatures
In artificial jungles

We eat the souls of progress
And justify our means through
A curved sense
That lingers

The purpose of man isn't civilization
It is competitive in nature
In that way we have greatly exceeded expectation
If only in the blink of time it took to make us


Where the wolf takes as it's spouse a fallow doe
Ghenghis took the world
He mounted it and rode it hard
And we all sweated blood for his conquests

Where river meets ice and mountain breaks sky
We look around and admire the natural beauty
And where shiny earthen metals protrude
We take and create the images we lust after

We are the powerful and wilder monsters
Cast into illusion
Left to consume at our whims
Who is Man to take what he did not earn

So it is that we connect with the planet
Biding time until a drop of water
In the vast sea
Dries up entirely

Waning Moonlight

Upon the eve of despair
Cursed by greed and gluttony
I stood and watched the sun rise

Shadows danced across every earthly construct
Beheld in the splendor of a tune
That I listed to

Leaning peons had no recourse
In the silence of a sunrise
While heat chilled the bones

I grew complacent
Until the night came again

And our bright and shiny moon
Continued to wane

Waxing People

Where We're Going

The end
Is entirely up to us

What we choose to do
Is reliant upon
What we think everyone
Else is doing
And why we do
What we will do
Is only as important
As the way
In which we do it.

And if we're not careful,
Then there won't be
Anything we can do.
Where we're going.

What We're Made Of

I found myself wondering this morning
And last night in particular
What we're all made of.
There's oil and water,
Dirt and grime,
Rag and bone,
Blood, snot,
Skin, nail,
And instinct all wrapped up in us.

But we've got thought and we like to use it too.
And here's something a little less known;
The warm sense of beach sand against our toes,
The cool breeze of winter upon our cheeks,
A greater sense of knowing that we just can't place,
Something soothing and calming and understanding all at once.

Some might call it being at peace
But I call it being beside Peace
Because we're not exactly a peaceful species.

Perhaps the most interesting part
Of us
Is that one particular spark;
Like the web of constellations in us,
Spider webbed through our toes,
The toes of dancers that curl and know the feeling
Of a matted floor or a wooden high beam,
Or the fingers of a writer
That love the curve of a pen meant to fit
Or the click of a keyboard.

That twinge in our nose hairs at the
First frost
Or the warm feeling
In the after glow
Where she's rubbing your back
And you're both smiling
At one another
Like nothing ever happened

And you're just 'Happy to be here, folks'.

And every once in a while
A couple of little transistors
Up in that head of ours
Go off in just the right sequence
And we feel happy,
Or At Peace,
And it's all leading
To one grand thought
Blooming like a rose
In the middle of fall.

Odd, but not entirely out of place.

We've all got that spark:
A little light of brilliance
That puts even sunrise to shame.

Where We're Going

The end
Is entirely up to us

What we choose to do
Is reliant upon
What we think everyone
Else is doing
And why we do
What we will do
Is only as important
As the way
In which we do it.

And if we're not careful,
Then there won't be
Anything we can do.
Where we're going.


I used to dream, but now I stay awake.
My body is rocking,
And I'm angry at my sheets.
'They're too tight' I keep saying,
'They're choking me'.

I used to dream, but now I stay awake.
My family doesn't understand.
They won't believe
I have real problems quitting.
All I want is to sleep.

I used to dream, but now I stay awake.
An itch festers in me,
Poking and prodding into my conscience.
'Sleep,' it says,
'Go to sleep.'
But my family says I can't anymore.

I used to dream, but now I stay awake.
When I can finally stand
I've lost track of time.
There is no one left that I knew,
And no comfort awaits me
In eternity.

I used to live,
But now I stay awake.

What Is Left

She doesn't want to live here anymore.
Judy can take her life somewhere else.
She takes.
She's taking it all.
Kitchen sink.
Everything she's going to need in her new home.
T.V. Bank account. Kids.
Office chair.
Spare tire.
She doesn't forget to get a little greedy by the end.
The Mercedes.
My promotion.
She keeps taking,
Taking more than she can carry.
The house she rolls away
Down the freeway.
My soul she bottles up
Like a genie.
My memory she blows away,
The dust of a life.
She kicks my dignity down the street
And punts it into traffic.
She sucks out my words and
Eats my liver
Now I can't drink this away.
And then she slaps me to break my pride.
Anger is all that's left.
For that,
She offers to take me back.

I can't remember ever leaving.

Waxing People

We chose to wax our dog
when he died
thinking it would allow the sense of memory to return.

It's more real, we said.
Like he's still hear, watching over us
and barking in case
the neighbor's cat got out
or a burglar broke our glass.

He was always faster then us,
running ahead
speeding his way into the street.

I suppose waxing him to let him stay with us forever
is a bit cruel
considering he ran himself
to death before us.

I don't think we'll wax our parents when they kick the bucket.

The Book Of -W-

The Book of -W-
Features only the most exclusive ideas
Of what and who we wish to be.

It is personal and unique
To every individual
Who braves the dusty tome's pages.

Inside the gold-leaf is a kinder ritual of
Where you're all turned into gods
And told to run the universe.

Only thing is,
The Book of -W- pretends we're capable enough
Willing enough
To try,
When we'd all rather
Just look out for ourselves
In a universe
Consisting of singular perspective.

And the goal:
It's yours to decide.

Whether man stay beast or banish their gods of fate.


  1. I love your Mark Twain quotes....brilliant

    And 'Where we're going' was very cool...

  2. Thanks folks :P I see views but i love responding to comments even more. 'Where we're going' was a very fun one to write.

  3. This is my first time on your blog but already I absolutely love the content so I'm following. These poems are all excellent, I'm in serious love with how awesome your writing is, while a little envious too! Keep up with the good work!

  4. Thanks! Hope you enjoy the stuff that's in the backlogs too ^^