Hands were red and hardened clay mosaics and they spread the batter on to dulled spitfire sheets. Padding out the circumference (wide mouthed) the movements exact in repeat response, the bubbles lazily birthed the surface, prickled in expectancy until flattened by thrown onionskins dashed in a workman's fashion. Slid by oils and panhandlers' tools it's flipped face-up, face-down, and steam exhales in a heavy sigh under the soft tossed mass of a seared crust. Thumbnail shovel scraps beneath an edge and peels it off the metal, folding limp in dried air transfer to the regulation saucer with the dribbled cup of coconut spice beside. My clumsy to
Time travels through my wrists,
Pale and weak until I make my fists.
When I say, "I've had enough of this,"
My Time flows to part my lips.
I was once in a burning ward.
Flames surrounded my bed like swords.
My mind said, "Now!" while my heart said, "Lord,
I'm gonna die in here if I don't move forward,
I'm gonna die in here if I don't move forward."
I was all mapped out you see-
Compass hands and a parted sea,
But then Fate got the Best of me
And now and then it'll meet my Worst for tea.
I'm sickly fine and deathly well
From the war to be yours where my side fell.
It broke my ribs and my dry spell.
Now this time can tell, now t
I fight Fate with the skin off my back,
slick, yet ridging, wrapping, engulfing translucent form;
arching and unfurling like the banners of kings.
We weave together, this unprecedence and myself,
the ravines of our identities gripping the separation
between our selves, elbows jutting like broken yellow straw;
passion pooling and dropping away from us like a sensual mess,
an upheaval of last restraints and strengths,
throwing it from us like a sense of disgust from our tensed shoulders.
I bend to you and you bend to me, we say in unison,
yet it seems off- a sickly syncopation spitting from our jaw-locked faces.
The thought pounds th
"I liked parts of it," he said, "The ones I could understand." And as I listened to his critique, head cocked to one side, I wondered if this was the way it will always be. My writing is of gouging the eyes of an invisible, shaded creature- a creature that is infallible, indefinite- a pure, living, breathing, feeling that grows within us all. Us. Humans. Does the feeling not exist within my critic? Or is my writing just too decorated and verbose? Too high above his head? Am I losing my footing? Am I losing touch with human understanding, human connection? Am I slipping off the edge of sanity without any recognition? And then I dwell on the co
The silence. It stretches down the halls like the thick woolen socks stretch across my veining feet. The air is so bare of sound that I can hear each fiber of them brush against the linoleum floor. I turn my head, slightly, staring intently at the growth of shadows on the far wall. They bunch in the corner like a frightened creature. "It's trapped!" I think. It does not move a blackened muscle. It stays as still and stiff as death. I fill my plastic container at the fountain, glancing from the slow-sloped projection of the squirming stream to the sad shadow, its head down in defeat and acceptance- but acceptance of what? Of me? My kind? My po
Kiss me underneath my ribs,
Press your ear against the sigh,
Hear it amplified a thousand times.
And I know that I let it go
Because I love you so.
Tonight is rounding like the moon
I turn the lights off in the room
And make the corners escape our view.
And know that I let them go
Because I love you so.
I drop these ribbons at your feet
And our eyes crash across the street
Our carnal wreckage takes the place
Of the MIA,
The unknown face of the weigh side
Spinaled up in flesh and sheets.
I've been searched and searched and searched.
I let them throw out anchors
To seek what's left inside this hull,
To spoon out and sip in
T
This glow parachutes around me, a translucent eggshell, encapsulating this fizzling image of you and breaking the dust from the breath I draw in when I see you beyond theory- through the chairs and the plates and the books and the windows and the teeth and the hair, a mass of prickled skin on bodies and a mass of prickled thoughts in mind... I take a cut of comfort knowing that the world does not stop for pedestrians, but shudders when the etches of our hands align. "I can't wait," means "I can wait," for there's a new seed that's come undone. Thank the ash. Thank the dashed soil. Thank God.
Thank you, love.
A single moment,
Sharp as a tack,
Boring deep
Into
Soft-skinned memory;
Puncturing firm
Into
Anomaly against
Facts.
Congregating cells
Try slow its forced
Entrance
To safeguard the
Flow of steady
Self-ignorance.
To soften wind
Blows.
To dampen concerted
Fire.
But oh.
The pin is in.
Vein of blue,
Exposed, expending
Sheaths of excuse
Percolated by
Truth.
Steel blue truth.
Callous and undaunted
By your
Emblematic
Mortified
Mammal
Mind.
Have you ever stared at someone? Stared at someone long enough to disassemble them? Each fiber of them, so individually imprinted, pieced together like some meticulously made rag doll. Each patch of pigment, each streak of color in their eyes, every strand of hair, each crease in their blanket of skin. (A face like hills of sand.)
Such silent clamor, such smooth chaos making you up. You are a beautiful mess, a quivering pool of imperfection and yet… You come so full circle. You make all of the meaningless make sense.
But careful with that tongue of yours- you may find those taste buds moving against your teeth, against your will, against th
You're groaning restless on a typewriter at three,
Taking shots in the dark at this face you'll never read,
And you're searching for that final word to wrap up your plea,
And I'm not around to ask, but you know I'd respond,
"You got me."
Trust is sitting on your shelf engraved on a trophy.
And the light on in your room is to you intimacy.
And the mirror was removed because your reflection wasn't key.
Did you expect me to stick around harking?
"Baby, you got me"
You spend your time chasing ghosts you call your dreams,
Vowing you'll find and her and describe her saying, "She…
She is perfect, just as perfect as perfect should be."
A
Hey there,
Guy with the smoldering stare,
You wear your desire,
On your sleeve that's on fire,
And I wouldn't have it any other way.
My body is a temple,
So come on inside and pray.
Come here,
I want to feel your body when you're near,
And feel the heat from your feverish sweat on my skin,
And take it all in,
Every thrust as if you were in a rush,
And couldn't stand to be without me.
But there's plenty of time,
For one more try,
And the whole thing starts over again.
It isn't love,
Just a push and a shove of skin against skin,
Where we both win,
What we want and when
We want it.
We can
Rely on instinct,
And don't need t
I woke up this morning thinking how nice it would be
To be in the arms of somebody.
I would play with his hair and whisper how much I cared about him
And we\'d lay there not wanting to leave.
Chorus:
But then I said hello, Reality
Sorry my minds just running away with me.
I know what I am and I know what I\'ll be
I\'ve counted the days and its not hard to see
That I\'m meant to be-
Alone.
Alone.
I put my guitar in its case and I pack up to leave,
I\'m going to sing for nobody but me.
And even though I know the song by heart, why is it that I\'m falling apart?
They set up the mic and said that they\'re ready.
So I- struck a cho
Don\'t leave me here alone tonight, because I don\'t want to miss a second of my life. Flying by on darkened streets, streaking all of the city\'s burning lights.
I don\'t want to sleep, I don\'t want to blink, I just want to make sure that my head can still think- about tomorrow.
Don\'t leave me here to stay this way, I don\'t care is all my colors smear away.
To make me shine, if thats a crime, why don\'t you close your eyes and think of rainy days.
Cause I don\'t care whats in the books, because I tore out all the pages and threw them just for looks.
And the looks came and past me by and I sat on my concrete throne and wondered why.
The writing would fill the walls and spread across the floor and cover every carpet and unlock every door- to each room filled with blossoming memories that soon will be, but at the moment as bare as my two feet. I sit and watch the dawn roll in, lighting confusion in a world dimmed- by factory buildings and snake-like streets all covering up the world like sheets. And you ask me to just play along, but I shake my head and turn to move on- to just another lonely place with tears dying down my face and falling into their own place in a world revolving around a finished race.
You held me up above your head and one day I whispered, \"Let me go.\" and you did.
I fell onto an unforgiving floor, only to see if there is more than what I had so high up top, but when I found nothing I looked back up, to see you gone without a kiss, left on my mouth from bittered bliss. So I sat there for the longest time, pouring tears into my rhymes and hoping one day you\'d be back, to make up all the things I lacked and when I saw you never came, I screamed until the summer rain came pouring down into my hole, that I had made for my wounded soul. Then I clawed my way up the right side, back to the surface where my heart had lied, and
Take me there.
So far away from all of this.
So my spirit can be free to fly.
Looking over the waters
All my thoughts and worries drifting away
And I could see the whole world drifting by.
The air around me still,
While moving quickly above the world,
Like being trapped in a dream;
Take me there.
Where I can live alone.
Where I have no one to worry about but myself.
Where I could find myself.
Right now I am lost in a forest
And I don\'t know which way to go.
So I sit and cry,
Making the whole forest cry with me.
And I lie down and let it.
Let the forest swallow me up.
Let me become one with the earth
And let my spirit free
I walk slowly through the water,
Waves crashing against the shore,
Until my feet don\'t even touch the ground,
Because it has melted away,
And I, with it.
I am one with the sea,
In constant motion with the currants,
Being swallowed.
Not having to worry about breath,
For everything around me gives me life and flows through me.
The swift, bumpy ride from Chinatown
Coupled with the warm, leathery smell
Of the arm that laid a gentle weight upon my chest
And the knowing smile of the face above me
Gave me a better cause for smiling
Than I could have in two weeks
With you.
The wit and belligerent dryness
Of well- placed puns
And the laughter
That comes with innocent flirting
Changed my mind completely
As I realized
I don't want you.
There was none of the uncertainty-
The kind that steams up the back windows of your car,
Nine-thirty on a Wednesday night
There was none of the fear
That had slowly become
The very air I breathed
Around you.
And even the
put down the looking glass by servechilled55, literature
Literature
put down the looking glass
the moments are for the stealing
they don't stop for anybody
floating like kings
on white feather floats
and i'm swimming in my insides
as they turn inside out
and evaporate into my eyes
but the good news is
i'm alone again
closing my eyes to all that is
swimming
or floating
or sinking
or spinning around me
a constallation spells your name
in the stars that appear when i rub my eyes too hard
and when everything else dissappears
(including my discarded bottles with insecurities that never made it across the sea)
you are quite beautiful.
Who would have ever thought
that we would end up in this
equality?
This is,
the greater understanding
of the human condition,
because what does
it really mean to be alive?
Time is narraration.
I want to invoke
the great thoughts
of anyone who ever lived.
With this comes
a sort of
deep seeded
historical hate;
this should be
what you want it to be.
We're talking verbatim here,
we're talking...
your hands in my hair
your hips on mine,
your words
escaping my lips.
This isn't transcending.
This isn't even moving.
You are only inside me now
as if you never were before,
I could move without restraints,
I could breath
I can see you now,
ascending the stairs,
as if your life
is waiting for you.
Just past the door
into the cheap
off white
sheets.
Are you going to
take the soap,
or the towels...
or the bible
they keep in the drawer?
You're not going to swear on it
you're not going to swear by it
you're going to steal it
and read it
and see the Garden of Eden
grow inside of you.
But I sure hope that hotel
burns to the ground.
I hope that you are in it
and the Garden can escape
from your barely parted lips.
Current Residence: Half way between asleep and awake (Frederick, MD) Favourite genre of music: rock/alt./techno/acoustic/piano/pretty Skin of choice: The soft kind... Favourite cartoon character: Ren and Stimpy. Totally.
Favourite Movies
Waking Life, Amelie, Hook, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
Favourite Bands / Musical Artists
Bjork, Rufus Wainwright, The Shins
Favourite Writers
Melvin Burgess, Paulo Cohelo, Bret Easton Ellis, Theodore Roethke
A Minor Incident- Badly Drawn Boy
There's nothing I could say
To make you try to feel ok
And nothing you could do
To stop me feeling the way I do
And if the chance should happen
That I never see you again
Just remember that I'll always love you
I'd be a better person
On the other side I'm sure
You'd find a way to help yourself
And find another door
To shrug off minor incidents
And make us both feel proud
I just wish I could be there
To see you through
You always were the one
To make us stand out in a crowd
Though every once upon a while
Your head was in the cloud
There's nothing you could never do
To ever let me down
And