Half-awake;
It's far too early.
Bills are overdue,
But I'm thirsty.
My legs are stiff;
Not enough traveling.
You are gone,
But the world is still turning.
Close my eyes,
Slip into a dream,
It's warm outside
With a cool Breeze.
Back to life
And hot coffee.
Still, times tough,
But I guess that's OK.
12.14.12 (half-awake)
12.11.12 (repetition at world's end)
Sad songs
And bad dreams
Fill the nights.
I've seen this before
Sometime long ago.
I almost wish
The world truly was
Coming to an end
If only to see things
As beautiful
As they truly are
12.8.12 (departures/arrivals)
January
Approaches
So I smile:
One departed
One arrived
And I am
No longer
Bound to three.
12.8.12 (bloom)
Flowers
Blooming
From my
Chest
Ripped from
The ground
You saw the
Best.
I offered,
You declined
And now I know
You'll never be mine.
So I'll leave a flower
Rested on your step
To remind of a nights
Shared by two friends
And as you leave
Through mountain peaks
I'll be in bed
Finally forgetting.
12.7.12 (later, perhaps)
I would have loved
To leave a flower
On your step
Every day
Of every month
You had gotten away.
I would have loved
The opportunity
To tell you the beauty
I see so clearly
In every smile.
I would have loved
To have had a single moment
Of your attention
If only to show you
The depth of it.
I see now
Thats not possible
So I will laugh harder,
Smile bigger,
Cry less,
And hope to see you,
Some distant day
In light anew.
12.6.12 (neutral)
Slipping back
Into neutral.
Bread tastes like bread
And wine, wine.
Now knowing
I stumbled
Onto a miracle
By accident
And
It only took me
A year to see.
I haven't been
Sleeping much
But that's nothing new;
If anything,
A sign:
Things are almost
But not quite
Normal again
12.5.12 (optim)
staring at the sun
until the colors
disappear.
and everything
looks
bleak,
but
hopeful.
until the colors
disappear.
and everything
looks
bleak,
but
hopeful.
12.4.12 (January flowers)
I feel myself
Growing.
Seeds
Sewn and reaped
Yielded
Only sorrow.
New seeds have
Been dropped
And as I
Smile
I feel this garden
Grow.
12.4.12 (due)
Free and easy;
Better times.
Being alone
Didn't matter as much
Before that January night.
You never desired that;
Lonesome feelings
Provoke action.
If you wanted me,
I would leap,
But it is her.
And I will try
To be true
Because it is she
And not you
That wants me.
12.3.12 (stale, negative)
hungover
and short
on rent.
digging through
possessions
to see what i can
sell off.
digging through
my phone book
to see which bridge
i have yet to burn.
the taste of
stale whiskey
and cocaine
on my tongue.
my fridge is empty,
my head is full,
perhaps too full.
i do not like
where i am headed
but i see nowhere else
left to go.
and short
on rent.
digging through
possessions
to see what i can
sell off.
digging through
my phone book
to see which bridge
i have yet to burn.
the taste of
stale whiskey
and cocaine
on my tongue.
my fridge is empty,
my head is full,
perhaps too full.
i do not like
where i am headed
but i see nowhere else
left to go.
12.3.12 (lost)
More time
Counting out
Collecting moments
Forgotten.
Confused
And feeling a bit
Rotten,
The nights have been
Drug-ridden
And far too long.
Lost in this,
Muddle
I dig my hole deeper.
Soon
There will be
No more light
To guide me home.
12.1.12 (black)
It's December
And I'm still in love.
I don't remember
the past few nights
But maybe that's good
Because that's less time
I remember
Thinking of you
11.30.12 (-)
My blood is thick and my heart ful of ill will. My heart is not at peace and I do not feel whole.
11.30.12 (cry)
Suddenly
With the weight of it all
It feels more appropriate
To jump in front
Of a moving train
Than pay rent
And be miserable
For yet another month,
But then I think
My family wouldn't have enough
To pay for the funeral.
11.28.12 (the moon)
full moon above
and talk of coincidence.
i talk of how the last three days
have been down
then used to be
plays.
then
regret making mistakes.
and i remember
that night,
and many others.
staring at the moon,
full.
today
feels lighter
perhaps because the weight
of that glowing ball
reminded me.
and talk of coincidence.
i talk of how the last three days
have been down
then used to be
plays.
then
regret making mistakes.
and i remember
that night,
and many others.
staring at the moon,
full.
today
feels lighter
perhaps because the weight
of that glowing ball
reminded me.
11.28.12 (crumble)
My chest heavy
my throat clogged.
Words have piled
Now my eyes fog
Anxiety returns
Unwelcome fast
Crumbling before you
This time: the last
11.28.12 (muddy shoes)
Eager,
I pushed forward,
Unaware of the
Mud on my shoes.
The carpet is dirty now,
And I don't think
There's any other way to say it:
I am going to break your heart.
11.27.12 (went for a walk in the park)
We've been spending so much time being concerned with things behind us we've lost sight of what's within or without and we've stopped looking forward and instead gaze inward. Never was the road pretty when we walked it, but god damn do I remember it being beautiful. I've scaled many mounts, if only to catch a glimpse of that memory, but I've forgotten to look forward. Eyes fogged with doubt, I look forward, searching not for a memory, but a new day, beautiful.
11.26.12 (foreward)
i remember
learning to leave.
i remember
yearning for more.
i remember
the steps i took
through your front door.
i've spent so much time
remembering,
i need to remember
to keep my eyes forward.
learning to leave.
i remember
yearning for more.
i remember
the steps i took
through your front door.
i've spent so much time
remembering,
i need to remember
to keep my eyes forward.
11.26.12 (empty return)
I had told myself
That upon my return,
I'd not let you back in
Then I did.
Sitting at the fire
Until 4am,
after the bar
"come over";
Silent,
Stealing glances.
Next to him,
Your heart seems heavier.
Forbidden love,
Cruel,
Yet I allow it.
Wishes remain unheard,
And my bed remains empty.
11.26.12 (forayehm)
This thing we built,
Scantily maintained,
Vessels lost
On the sea we made
Your hand in mine
Your eyes
Breaths exchanged
Touch
Hours pass
Painfully
You lead me off further
Knowing you can find me
But not I, you or others.
Drugs have sounded sweeter
Than the lack of your presence
And while this lie continues
So will I
Unto dirt
I return
11.26.12 (apart)
The ups and downs
Of being dragged around
Bad decisions
Made in tens.
Undeniable truth
indescribable feelings;
Love, thick like wet sand
Your web, it only grows.
The days have been long,
Times hard,
and everything seems to be pulling me away.
I only want you to smile,
So if it takes a broken heart,
so be it.
Of being dragged around
Bad decisions
Made in tens.
Undeniable truth
indescribable feelings;
Love, thick like wet sand
Your web, it only grows.
The days have been long,
Times hard,
and everything seems to be pulling me away.
I only want you to smile,
So if it takes a broken heart,
so be it.
11.20.12 (4j4me)
Bitten by the dog from hell,
Touched by the hand of God,
Lost in the muddle of love unrequited...
We are all bound to the useless notion that someone will appear to relinquish our troubles and return what we feel we've lost. Foul temptations rear their heads when we feel it most. When you feel it, be weary, when you see it, be still; be vengeful in words if you must, but be grateful to know what hell feels like.
11.19.12 (4am)
Convinced of my escape, I was brave, venturing out. Still, yes still. Fumbling through attempts to hide the weight of the air surrounding me with your presence. Words flowing, just hearing you is a blessing, counted. Night, and more words, drinks too. Among others, still, I see none but you. And more words. Then I hear it. That laugh could kill me. It will. Your mind, beautiful as the person wielding. I smile. I laugh. More than months have held for me, together. The flickering fire dancing across your face. Your warmth, your voice. If I could, I would have never left that moment. But even when I left, you were with me. And even tonight, hours between us, I long to hear that laugh, that smile. I would search the universe infinitely just to find the correct word to describe your beauty, but when you're around, a word will forever be shadowed by you, by your presence.
11.13.12 (themed dreams)
dreams
foray into unknown
thoughts lingering
wandering about at night
drinking whiskey, warm
a cool winter's breeze
back to the bar
walking away
glances: exchanged
words: minimal
is this real?
on clouds above
green grass below
grazing the tops of trees
with the tips of my fingers
your voice beckons–
on my couch
those eyes, piercing
melted heart, frozen
i ask,
"can i hold you?"
"not for long..."
the sun and clouds
pass through my blinds
as i wake looking out
my bedside window
foray into unknown
thoughts lingering
wandering about at night
drinking whiskey, warm
a cool winter's breeze
back to the bar
walking away
glances: exchanged
words: minimal
is this real?
on clouds above
green grass below
grazing the tops of trees
with the tips of my fingers
your voice beckons–
on my couch
those eyes, piercing
melted heart, frozen
i ask,
"can i hold you?"
"not for long..."
the sun and clouds
pass through my blinds
as i wake looking out
my bedside window
11.11.12 (11-11-11-11)
I have had such fortune in forgetting short ties that bound us finger to finger like a Chinese trap and I thought it had ended until I saw your eyes in the dream I had last night. In your embrace in songs we sang the Sorry words we could not say cursed moments on a winter's day. I did well to leave no longer to see moments never meant to be pale in darkness clinging to me to only return in some winter nights dream.
11.9.12 (fate)
Is it wrong
I cannot relate
I was never interested in
Stupid things that delay
Songs that don't speak
To mind or to soul
Feelings always exist
Whether young or old
I have never been able
To stomach the taste
Of words people speak
So bland, so fake
But once in a while
We recognize the trade
As we slowly submit to
The ugly thing we call fate
10.31.12 (selfish/selfless or how to write a non-suicide letter)
The universe, as humans know it, in all of it's infinite possibility and wonder, contains a certain cruelty, unmeasurable. To live with no purpose, other than to benefit a whole that would see you as nothing more than an obituary or a moment on the evening news were you to perish. Even so, we find courage in the strength, will, and love of others around us. Friendships and families bind us to this merciless mortal coil, this unfathomable existence, out of selfish desire and selfless love, and we too partcipate in this when so presented. We innately understand the unity and futility in being bound to this tragic existence. But behold, being aware of this is a blessing; that is, to know in this unending void of cosmic expanse and earthly turmoil, we can find solace within the true hearts that surround us and guide us back. These true hearts we find along the way, those who care, those who understand, those who help us through the many dark times, are worth many lifetimes of anguish. So I praise you, selfish hearts, were it not for you, I would be nothing more than a distant memory; nothing more than a thinning cloud, vanquished by the dawn of a new day.
10.30.12 (your door to my forest, my prison)
i had hoped
to tie a string
from my arm
to the the door
so i would not
have to leave,
but the wind
cut the night
into threes
therein.
your voice
in darkness
churned awful
memory,
but the night
and the wind
brought forth
certain clarity.
unchained from
the door,
but shackled to
a tree,
the wind
chills my bones,
in the night
still three.
unfortunate fate
forever haunting;
unlucky souls
yes,
that is we.
to tie a string
from my arm
to the the door
so i would not
have to leave,
but the wind
cut the night
into threes
therein.
your voice
in darkness
churned awful
memory,
but the night
and the wind
brought forth
certain clarity.
unchained from
the door,
but shackled to
a tree,
the wind
chills my bones,
in the night
still three.
unfortunate fate
forever haunting;
unlucky souls
yes,
that is we.
10.30.12 (unfinished)
there in the grass
i see shadows cast
over blades of green
they follow me.
there is not one,
but many.
they follow me,
reminders of persons
of all kinds,
forever trapt,
in the distance
of the past.
i see shadows cast
over blades of green
they follow me.
there is not one,
but many.
they follow me,
reminders of persons
of all kinds,
forever trapt,
in the distance
of the past.
10.30.12 (foolishness for now)
the poor man
has a certain sense
of clarity
in matters of the heart,
but a poor, lonely man,
abandons that clarity
for another drink.
has a certain sense
of clarity
in matters of the heart,
but a poor, lonely man,
abandons that clarity
for another drink.
10.30.12 (decidedly, no more)
i'll chop down
each tree
that blocks
my path
if only to see
but a glimpse
of the garden
that i seek
that i see
in my dreams.
i will cross
each river,
climb
each mount,
if only to find
what it is
that i lost
in that garden.
if i find it again,
in another place,
keep the old one,
or throw it away,
you can have
that piece
stinky.
each tree
that blocks
my path
if only to see
but a glimpse
of the garden
that i seek
that i see
in my dreams.
i will cross
each river,
climb
each mount,
if only to find
what it is
that i lost
in that garden.
if i find it again,
in another place,
keep the old one,
or throw it away,
you can have
that piece
stinky.
10.26.12 (shit)
Is any of this shit
The shit I thought
I would find myself
Waist-deep in
Struggling to find room
To breathe.
Dreams feel like
Memories
Of a person
I once knew.
10.23.12 (voyeur)
I began to experience a certain disconnect from reality. It's something we all come across once we've reached the bottom of the barrel. It's as if you are a voyeur, peering into someone else's life, experiencing their demise secondhand. It was strange, I couldn't find my own thoughts among the mess of static I heard teeming within my brain. The only thing I felt I could do was wait, and hope that this too would come to pass...
10.23.12 (silence)
Sometimes silence speaks words at greater volumes than any voice could ever carry. Moments turn to monuments, in one second of silence. It can contain a lifetime of lessons learned, or forgotten. It can complete or destroy a person. Such a simple, yet chaotic thing silence can be.
10.23.12 (spell)
Suddenly it came to fruition: why this had been so crippling. She was someone very different from myself, but very similar. She understood. Such a rarity to find. In any case, returning to my own thoughts was not a pleasant transition, it can never be after the sweetness of shared emotion. Such delicacies of the heart are never to be taken lightly, for they are the things that one carries with them for eternity.
10.23.12 (more mornings)
Mornings have never been easy for me. It's the time of day where either you've the world to save of ten more minutes to sleep. A kind of all or nothing. I could never get used to that. I usually get too anxious beneath whatever burden i've placed myself beneath to where prying myself from bed doesn't feel as hard. I've never been a very good sleeper...
10.18.12 (the rain)
i can hear it
i always do
your voice on the breeze
and in the rain too
you echo through
silent halls
love penetrating
crumbling walls
i can hear the rain
pouring down outside
so i run to the fields
cold water chasing me
and tears crashing all around
and in this dream
there is more to this
more to us
your voice so crisp
joining the thunder
with each shout
as i cower backward
your voice grows louder
so i run to the fields
where you're lying there
you look to my eyes
cold water pouring
through your hair
and i am lost once again
8.28.12
It was a warm august evening, on a trip like many passed. I sat outside a bar in Brooklyn, with a vague idea of how i had ended up sitting outside with the beautiful girl I was sitting next to. She spoke in an Australian accent, and was damn cute. Conversation flowed in lieu of the drinks of the evening running dry. Talk ensued of american habits and ticks, of plans, of trips. Our eyes locked and we exchanged a kiss. She said felt self conscious of the taste of cigarettes on her lips, so I took a drag of her cigarette and said we were even.
We left the bar with her two friends, hailing a cab to bring us back to their hotel. I asked her if she was going to stay with them, and she said a simple, "maybe." She had a bigger man with her that they called uncle. Uncle was large and hairy, but had a welcoming voice that rendered him all but harmless. Her other friend was smaller statured and also attractive, but not nearly as talkative or assertive. We dropped both of them off at the hotel and they left with a stern warning for her to wake up at 9 AM.
We arrived back at the apartment I was staying at, hands fondling the dark to find our way to the bedroom. When we approached the bed we began shedding layers. Brief conversation, feverish kissing, we lay tangled together. We kissed madly. When we began to shed more layers frantically, while kissing and making our way back into the bed.
Many hours later I awoke in a daze next to her graceful nude body, jarred awake by a ringing phone. I looked to see that we were an hour late to wake up, so I wake her. She hops up immediately, dressing herself in a panic, speaking of how she had no phone and had to hope that her friends were still in Central Park where they were to meet up and eat mushrooms. She rushes to the door, barely giving me time to put on pants and a shirt, and kisses me at the door with a short goodbye. She rushes off to hail a cab, and I, dumbfounded, head back to bed. Hours later, sitting on a subway train, I am still in awe: haunted by her voice, by her scent that clings to my hands, skin.
If I could only remember her god damn name...
10.17.12 (irony)
irony,
if only you knew
how well i
had forgotten.
if only you had
seen the days
go by as i.
if only you could
remember why
we came to this.
if only you witnessed
the slightest tortures
ever present.
if only you would
stop following me,
stop torturing me.
i guess that too
would be ironic.
if only you knew
how well i
had forgotten.
if only you had
seen the days
go by as i.
if only you could
remember why
we came to this.
if only you witnessed
the slightest tortures
ever present.
if only you would
stop following me,
stop torturing me.
i guess that too
would be ironic.
10.17.12 (sum)
The afternoon sun, reflected from the tops of clouds, poured through my window. I took a drink of my coffee and looked down the aisle; "there are too many kids on this damn plane," I thought. It had been months since I had set foot in the place I had come to call home: Phoenix, Arizona, and now I was only a couple hours away.
Fleeing from pains of betrayal and heartbreak, I went east to reclaim some thing I felt I had lost. Anything to cure me of my inconsolable state of apathy. It had controlled me for months. Days spent indoors, binging on alcohol and sadness, barely finding the will or desire to leave. Near breaking, it felt as if there was no other way.
The mountains of Pennsylvania had a slight, but noticeable effect on my demeanor, working full days off little sleep. Carried by the hands of friends, and always with a coffee in mine. The days grew longer, but I began to mind less, as if I was stuck living the same day for eternity. Many nights we escaped from that strange place to the nearest bar, and filled our stomachs. Tensions rose naturally, and it soon became time for me to return west. Like the fog I watched roll off the mountains each morning, I felt my burden grow lighter at the mere thought of it. Suddenly excitement returned to me. With thoughts of times long gone, smiling faces, and loud memories, I felt it was time for me to take my leave.
A brief foray to New York was all the travel I would allow myself. Having pushed the forgotten beauty to the back of my mind, heartache didn't seem so real. I spent long days in the streets, scurrying about with my friends. A few days into my trip, an ex lover appeared. We met for lunch, a play, some beers. The next morning we got breakfast at a diner, and I think she could tell; my summer had changed me. I had lost interest in most things, relations between us included. I haven't spoke to her since. During the course of the week I scurried about the boroughs of Manhattan and Brooklyn, with the company of more and more good friends. On my last night in town, we went out to bars, had drinks, had fun. I met another, a stranger, the Australian.
She was shorter than I, about 5' 4", with long reddish-brown hair, and sharp facial features. She wore a sheer black top beneath a black overcoat, with black jeans and high heeled shoes. After closing, we sat in a circle, her two friends to my right and she to my left. She complained that she smelled of cigarettes, so I took a drag, and said "Well, now we both do." We grabbed a cab, and hopped about to drop her friends to their respective hotels around Downtown Brooklyn, before headed back to where I stay in Bed-Stuy. The next morning, we had woken up late, an hour late. We had both set alarms, and managed to sleep through all of them; it had been a good night. Scurrying to dress, she hurriedly gathered her things and made her way to the front door. Barely having time to put on pants and a t-shirt, I followed her to the door. She left with a kiss, without even telling her name.
Leaving New York, I continued west for a brief visit to my father in Ohio. It was brief, and filled with visits to the local county fair, where we gorged ourselves in fried food delicacies. I departed there in high spirits, though the Australian was still a mystery that would not escape me. A delayed bus ride, and I was in Chicago, the home of my Mother.
I had recently found out that she and my stepfather were in the process of splitting up, and that we were no longer welcome in the home I grew up in. They had just entered the long course of moving out when I arrived. It was a strange time. My stepfather's nephew had moved into my old bedroom. That was a strange thing for me to grasp: I no longer had a bedroom. I spent my days on the couch, a few on the couches of friends. Many drinks later, and a couple nights out and around, I departed from Chicago to St. Louis by way of an Amtrak train. It was a quaint ride: the large farm fields of southern Illinois at the end of summer flying past. St. Louis was an even shorter stay, with nothing but friends, beer, VHS tapes, and a Sega Genesis. Friendly faces, old and new, rejuvenated my trip. With days passing and school impending, I could not stay long.
It came quickly–it took me by surprise... I was going home. Suddenly the last few months seemed like a century, and I felt like I was returning to a foreign land. I boarded my plane, with my mind racing with thoughts that sounded like static from a television screen. I began to remember the times when I was withering, and the many drinks that I had drank to forget. I found my seat, an aisle, with an empty middle seat, and an old woman already sleeping against the window panel. I began to think of her, the nights leading up to what would be my demise. I chewed on my lips, anxiety beginning to course through me. The taste of blood brought me back to reality. I looked around, noticing the four children within three seats of me. "This is going to be hell..." I thought. I was right. Screaming children overpowered the music in my ears as we took off. "Goodbye Midwest," I thought once again.
The stewardess came by, and I did my best to fall asleep, but the incessant noise of toddlers and babies thwarted whatever hope I had of slumber. They had already served drinks too. I made my way to the back of the plane and relieved my self in the lavatory. As I zipped up my pants, and turned for the door we hit a pocket of light turbulence, which was all the motivation I needed to return to my seat. The plane steadied, and as the stewardess passed, I ordered my coffee. It would be one of many on this four hour flight.
Fleeing from pains of betrayal and heartbreak, I went east to reclaim some thing I felt I had lost. Anything to cure me of my inconsolable state of apathy. It had controlled me for months. Days spent indoors, binging on alcohol and sadness, barely finding the will or desire to leave. Near breaking, it felt as if there was no other way.
The mountains of Pennsylvania had a slight, but noticeable effect on my demeanor, working full days off little sleep. Carried by the hands of friends, and always with a coffee in mine. The days grew longer, but I began to mind less, as if I was stuck living the same day for eternity. Many nights we escaped from that strange place to the nearest bar, and filled our stomachs. Tensions rose naturally, and it soon became time for me to return west. Like the fog I watched roll off the mountains each morning, I felt my burden grow lighter at the mere thought of it. Suddenly excitement returned to me. With thoughts of times long gone, smiling faces, and loud memories, I felt it was time for me to take my leave.
A brief foray to New York was all the travel I would allow myself. Having pushed the forgotten beauty to the back of my mind, heartache didn't seem so real. I spent long days in the streets, scurrying about with my friends. A few days into my trip, an ex lover appeared. We met for lunch, a play, some beers. The next morning we got breakfast at a diner, and I think she could tell; my summer had changed me. I had lost interest in most things, relations between us included. I haven't spoke to her since. During the course of the week I scurried about the boroughs of Manhattan and Brooklyn, with the company of more and more good friends. On my last night in town, we went out to bars, had drinks, had fun. I met another, a stranger, the Australian.
She was shorter than I, about 5' 4", with long reddish-brown hair, and sharp facial features. She wore a sheer black top beneath a black overcoat, with black jeans and high heeled shoes. After closing, we sat in a circle, her two friends to my right and she to my left. She complained that she smelled of cigarettes, so I took a drag, and said "Well, now we both do." We grabbed a cab, and hopped about to drop her friends to their respective hotels around Downtown Brooklyn, before headed back to where I stay in Bed-Stuy. The next morning, we had woken up late, an hour late. We had both set alarms, and managed to sleep through all of them; it had been a good night. Scurrying to dress, she hurriedly gathered her things and made her way to the front door. Barely having time to put on pants and a t-shirt, I followed her to the door. She left with a kiss, without even telling her name.
Leaving New York, I continued west for a brief visit to my father in Ohio. It was brief, and filled with visits to the local county fair, where we gorged ourselves in fried food delicacies. I departed there in high spirits, though the Australian was still a mystery that would not escape me. A delayed bus ride, and I was in Chicago, the home of my Mother.
I had recently found out that she and my stepfather were in the process of splitting up, and that we were no longer welcome in the home I grew up in. They had just entered the long course of moving out when I arrived. It was a strange time. My stepfather's nephew had moved into my old bedroom. That was a strange thing for me to grasp: I no longer had a bedroom. I spent my days on the couch, a few on the couches of friends. Many drinks later, and a couple nights out and around, I departed from Chicago to St. Louis by way of an Amtrak train. It was a quaint ride: the large farm fields of southern Illinois at the end of summer flying past. St. Louis was an even shorter stay, with nothing but friends, beer, VHS tapes, and a Sega Genesis. Friendly faces, old and new, rejuvenated my trip. With days passing and school impending, I could not stay long.
It came quickly–it took me by surprise... I was going home. Suddenly the last few months seemed like a century, and I felt like I was returning to a foreign land. I boarded my plane, with my mind racing with thoughts that sounded like static from a television screen. I began to remember the times when I was withering, and the many drinks that I had drank to forget. I found my seat, an aisle, with an empty middle seat, and an old woman already sleeping against the window panel. I began to think of her, the nights leading up to what would be my demise. I chewed on my lips, anxiety beginning to course through me. The taste of blood brought me back to reality. I looked around, noticing the four children within three seats of me. "This is going to be hell..." I thought. I was right. Screaming children overpowered the music in my ears as we took off. "Goodbye Midwest," I thought once again.
The stewardess came by, and I did my best to fall asleep, but the incessant noise of toddlers and babies thwarted whatever hope I had of slumber. They had already served drinks too. I made my way to the back of the plane and relieved my self in the lavatory. As I zipped up my pants, and turned for the door we hit a pocket of light turbulence, which was all the motivation I needed to return to my seat. The plane steadied, and as the stewardess passed, I ordered my coffee. It would be one of many on this four hour flight.
10.17.12 (end)
bolts of confidence
go winding through
short lived, quick
but close enough too.
in trying to give up
i think i've found hope
though there's really no way
that i can truly know.
it all comes to this,
the end of one road,
i'll still have my drinks
and you'll still be stoned.
go winding through
short lived, quick
but close enough too.
in trying to give up
i think i've found hope
though there's really no way
that i can truly know.
it all comes to this,
the end of one road,
i'll still have my drinks
and you'll still be stoned.
10.17.12 (of days)
dizzy girl
fuzzy brain
thinking circular thoughts
going insane
something elusive
but nothing trite
consuming our friendship
and everything in sight.
acceptance was hard,
so instead i forgot,
but in returning
i see i cannot.
something is brewing
i feel it all around
it trembles through my fingers
and through every sound.
good or bad
there is something here
change is coming
it is already near.
restless indecision
from you or from me
signals are crossed
i don't know what to believe.
but something is changing
it's beginning to show,
and in the back of your mind
i think i know you already know.
fuzzy brain
thinking circular thoughts
going insane
something elusive
but nothing trite
consuming our friendship
and everything in sight.
acceptance was hard,
so instead i forgot,
but in returning
i see i cannot.
something is brewing
i feel it all around
it trembles through my fingers
and through every sound.
good or bad
there is something here
change is coming
it is already near.
restless indecision
from you or from me
signals are crossed
i don't know what to believe.
but something is changing
it's beginning to show,
and in the back of your mind
i think i know you already know.
10.13.12 (funeral pire)
sticks and stones
soon will be my home
as i cast off
many layers
unto the funeral pire.
dreams of love,
dreams of the future,
burn before me,
beneath me,
turning dancing embers
to a raging fire,
and i watch it
burn
as my ghost,
spirited away,
drifts off
on the broken breath
of a cool
october breeze.
soon will be my home
as i cast off
many layers
unto the funeral pire.
dreams of love,
dreams of the future,
burn before me,
beneath me,
turning dancing embers
to a raging fire,
and i watch it
burn
as my ghost,
spirited away,
drifts off
on the broken breath
of a cool
october breeze.
10.2.12 (that's it)
that's it
i give up
i'll not be returning
once i take my leave
that's it
i'm through
i can no longer accept
the pain dealt on account of you
that's it
no more
this town has proven it's point
and now i will show myself the door
that's it
i'm done
though i cannot accept it, i must
i have done wrong
that's it
time to fly
i'm tired of laying around
waiting around to die
that's it
i no longer belong
but worry not, like i said
i'll soon be gone
i give up
i'll not be returning
once i take my leave
that's it
i'm through
i can no longer accept
the pain dealt on account of you
that's it
no more
this town has proven it's point
and now i will show myself the door
that's it
i'm done
though i cannot accept it, i must
i have done wrong
that's it
time to fly
i'm tired of laying around
waiting around to die
that's it
i no longer belong
but worry not, like i said
i'll soon be gone
9.29.12 (ism)
bad decisions
and many drinks later
time pours from me
lost in clinks
and many more drinks.
hazy days
come forth in pairs
as i watch life
disappear at the bottom
of my glass.
and many drinks later
time pours from me
lost in clinks
and many more drinks.
hazy days
come forth in pairs
as i watch life
disappear at the bottom
of my glass.
9.28.12 (concern)
around
about
this distance.
i never wanted
this to be
especially
to be this way.
happy when
things carried through
though
quivering still
when i'm not
with you.
still finding ways
still running away.
still contemplating
still yes still.
all that is done,
and all that will come
will still carry through
when i'm lost in you
about
this distance.
i never wanted
this to be
especially
to be this way.
happy when
things carried through
though
quivering still
when i'm not
with you.
still finding ways
still running away.
still contemplating
still yes still.
all that is done,
and all that will come
will still carry through
when i'm lost in you
9.27.12 (exile ii)
exile...
ha!
that's rich.
like i could
harm you
in ways
i've harmed
myself.
exile...
true!
you've
done it!
how do
you feel?
oh,
you feel?
exile...
truly!
exile!
friends?
really?
really?
pain?
you don't say!
well,
there's
always
tomorrow,
right!?
ahh!
there it is!
exile!
ha!
that's rich.
like i could
harm you
in ways
i've harmed
myself.
exile...
true!
you've
done it!
how do
you feel?
oh,
you feel?
exile...
truly!
exile!
friends?
really?
really?
pain?
you don't say!
well,
there's
always
tomorrow,
right!?
ahh!
there it is!
exile!
9.27.12 (no home)
home...
home?
really,
home?
here?
no.
there?
no.
where is
there?
where is
home?
no.
not there,
nor there,
nor there.
so where?
i will tell
you
when i
figure it out
for myself.
home?
really,
home?
here?
no.
there?
no.
where is
there?
where is
home?
no.
not there,
nor there,
nor there.
so where?
i will tell
you
when i
figure it out
for myself.
9.27.12 (currently)
father?
oh, another.
father?
goodbye.
great times,
months,
years.
father?
ah, no.
arnold?
perhaps, so.
turmoil?
always.
steady ground to stand on?
sometimes.
fighting:
constant.
feelings:
always.
selfishness?
from all.
i would be lying
if i were to say
that any of this
didn't hurt.
oh, another.
father?
goodbye.
great times,
months,
years.
father?
ah, no.
arnold?
perhaps, so.
turmoil?
always.
steady ground to stand on?
sometimes.
fighting:
constant.
feelings:
always.
selfishness?
from all.
i would be lying
if i were to say
that any of this
didn't hurt.
9.27.12 (exile)
do you hear
every word i say
or do you listen to
the sounds of every day
do you hear the cries
leaving my lips
cause we can trace
the source of our unhappiness
do you understand
what really happened
do you really feel
the course of our actions
i know i do too
if you suffer
i know i do too
i'm just saying
i know what you're paying
i'm paying all my dues
maybe i'm paying more too
i just want to
smile again
i just want to
be happy to be ok
i just wish this
could go over easy
but it is hard
in exile life is uneasy
every word i say
or do you listen to
the sounds of every day
do you hear the cries
leaving my lips
cause we can trace
the source of our unhappiness
do you understand
what really happened
do you really feel
the course of our actions
i know i do too
if you suffer
i know i do too
i'm just saying
i know what you're paying
i'm paying all my dues
maybe i'm paying more too
i just want to
smile again
i just want to
be happy to be ok
i just wish this
could go over easy
but it is hard
in exile life is uneasy
9.26.12 (i'm getting very tired of this)
now i spend
a lot of time
reminding friends
of this heart of mine
that more than most
i care of hearts more
that the sting of the world
cuts to my core.
that romance is
the language i prefer
and any other words
can only deter.
to see friends suffer
is to see my own end,
because we share our hearts
to our dearest friends,
and my friends are those
who care for one another
i swear i care for you all
soon you will rediscover;
i believed in chance
i believed in longing
i believed she was lonely
i believed she was forgotten
i believed my friends were there
but i know long friendships mean more
but still it's frustrating being victim
of the stories people forever distort.
a lot of time
reminding friends
of this heart of mine
that more than most
i care of hearts more
that the sting of the world
cuts to my core.
that romance is
the language i prefer
and any other words
can only deter.
to see friends suffer
is to see my own end,
because we share our hearts
to our dearest friends,
and my friends are those
who care for one another
i swear i care for you all
soon you will rediscover;
i believed in chance
i believed in longing
i believed she was lonely
i believed she was forgotten
i believed my friends were there
but i know long friendships mean more
but still it's frustrating being victim
of the stories people forever distort.
9.26.12 (HA HA)
it's not upsetting
in the sense that
i see you
often
but that
recovery
that we know was lost
especially
in the grasps
exchanged.
i do not wish
your exile from my mind
nor your exile from my life
but i wish that forgetting
didn't mean forgetting
and that i was not made
to the villain that i am now.
in the sense that
i see you
often
but that
recovery
that we know was lost
especially
in the grasps
exchanged.
i do not wish
your exile from my mind
nor your exile from my life
but i wish that forgetting
didn't mean forgetting
and that i was not made
to the villain that i am now.
9.26.12 (friendly faces)
couple of months
and a few weaks were there
and now months have gone by
and i'm pulling out my hair
i just want to be free of
what i know has died
i know time has gone by
i know i nearly killed myself
i know you stayed here
tried to regroup what fell
and i know that we both tried
to pick up what we lost
but i know deep inside
i stay sturdy even when i lie
i want to forget you,
but i can't even when i try
so i run away again
and try to find what i
lost somewhere along the way
coming back to different things
familiar friends lacking intimacy
people i thought could carry on
i tried to repent all i could but not quite
i guess it is impossible when everyone else
falls in love at first sight
i tried to give you all distance
i tried to make it easier
to make myself less sad
i tried to not be present
to not drive you mad
i tried to make sure you could
rebuild what you had
but still i'm nothing more
than what has been
and still i must distance
or else be judged and
i don't think that it's worth it
though i might deserve it
and so i guess it's likely
that i'll leave again
and a few weaks were there
and now months have gone by
and i'm pulling out my hair
i just want to be free of
what i know has died
i know time has gone by
i know i nearly killed myself
i know you stayed here
tried to regroup what fell
and i know that we both tried
to pick up what we lost
but i know deep inside
i stay sturdy even when i lie
i want to forget you,
but i can't even when i try
so i run away again
and try to find what i
lost somewhere along the way
coming back to different things
familiar friends lacking intimacy
people i thought could carry on
i tried to repent all i could but not quite
i guess it is impossible when everyone else
falls in love at first sight
i tried to give you all distance
i tried to make it easier
to make myself less sad
i tried to not be present
to not drive you mad
i tried to make sure you could
rebuild what you had
but still i'm nothing more
than what has been
and still i must distance
or else be judged and
i don't think that it's worth it
though i might deserve it
and so i guess it's likely
that i'll leave again
9.19.12 (sea)
blood
dripping
from
words
leaving lips.
sealed in
moments,
fleeting,
still.
stolen time
from us all,
becomes
yet another
tragedy,
among a sea
of smiling faces.
dripping
from
words
leaving lips.
sealed in
moments,
fleeting,
still.
stolen time
from us all,
becomes
yet another
tragedy,
among a sea
of smiling faces.
9.18.12 (easy)
an anvil
has fallen
from my throat
to my stomach;
from my heart,
from my head,
to my core.
silence,
for the sake
of being,
for the sake,
of most.
turning off
the voice
inside
that is screaming,
for the one
that cares not
of false sentiment.
tuning in
to the voice
that speaks
of easy times,
of coasting,
of apathy,
of words that float on water.
untrue,
but easy.
has fallen
from my throat
to my stomach;
from my heart,
from my head,
to my core.
silence,
for the sake
of being,
for the sake,
of most.
turning off
the voice
inside
that is screaming,
for the one
that cares not
of false sentiment.
tuning in
to the voice
that speaks
of easy times,
of coasting,
of apathy,
of words that float on water.
untrue,
but easy.
9.18.12 (twinge)
within
strange confines
do thoughts
tingle and
twinge
and sprout;
and ideas
like trees
grow
or die
and i am left
lost somewhere
inside.
strange confines
do thoughts
tingle and
twinge
and sprout;
and ideas
like trees
grow
or die
and i am left
lost somewhere
inside.
9.18.12 (cool)
hope
in the hearth,
in time;
past.
streams
of cool water
pass over
jagged rock
and i.
ever present,
ever onward.
in the hearth,
in time;
past.
streams
of cool water
pass over
jagged rock
and i.
ever present,
ever onward.
8.29.12 (matchless)
i am shouting
a sound
a name.
red hair,
brown eyes,
skin that is pale.
your voice,
your scent.
the sounds
of the streets
on a warm
brooklyn night.
the taste
of cigarettes
on your lips
and mine.
an evening
long, warm.
a morning,
short, haunting.
if i could only
remember
your name.
a sound
a name.
red hair,
brown eyes,
skin that is pale.
your voice,
your scent.
the sounds
of the streets
on a warm
brooklyn night.
the taste
of cigarettes
on your lips
and mine.
an evening
long, warm.
a morning,
short, haunting.
if i could only
remember
your name.
9.18.12 (thickness)
i leave
the room
upon
your entry,
not to avoid
you
but to avoid
the words
that would be
said
if i did not.
i walk
away
not by choice
but for
you
and for
him.
none of this
is easy,
but neither
very hard
it's like
forgetting
you've
forgotten,
something you'd known
all along.
the room
upon
your entry,
not to avoid
you
but to avoid
the words
that would be
said
if i did not.
i walk
away
not by choice
but for
you
and for
him.
none of this
is easy,
but neither
very hard
it's like
forgetting
you've
forgotten,
something you'd known
all along.
9.11.12 (barter)
rivers flowing
full of
hiding in corners
but in plain sight
picturing
all i can do.
waiting for something
anything, anyone
things to pull
to gravitate
to push me
further or farther
away.
feeling flighting
fleeting uncertainty
a wish to come home
but home is no one
and home is no where
for me
fighting to stay afloat
in a world filled with
life boats.
trying to keep up
with all of you but
i can't help
when it's sink or
swim.
trying, i guess
to do something more
to escape this pattern
this boring routine
this incessant
on and on
nothing.
haunted by hope
by time and memory
by future, by past,
knowing nothing will last
i am waiting, always waiting,
for something.
full of
hiding in corners
but in plain sight
picturing
all i can do.
waiting for something
anything, anyone
things to pull
to gravitate
to push me
further or farther
away.
feeling flighting
fleeting uncertainty
a wish to come home
but home is no one
and home is no where
for me
fighting to stay afloat
in a world filled with
life boats.
trying to keep up
with all of you but
i can't help
when it's sink or
swim.
trying, i guess
to do something more
to escape this pattern
this boring routine
this incessant
on and on
nothing.
haunted by hope
by time and memory
by future, by past,
knowing nothing will last
i am waiting, always waiting,
for something.
9.11.12 (oooooooooooO)
hope
it held me
like a knife
to my throat;
her name:
the apple
in my eye,
the frog
trapped
in my throat.
the knife,
it touched skin;
the apple
gone;
the frog
on the run.
still,
your name
courses
within
these veins.
it held me
like a knife
to my throat;
her name:
the apple
in my eye,
the frog
trapped
in my throat.
the knife,
it touched skin;
the apple
gone;
the frog
on the run.
still,
your name
courses
within
these veins.
9.7.12 ( wannabe strokes song)
nothing much
never a peep to say
but i
get all weird when you come my way
started soft
started like a friend
couple months
and now i want you back
well i can't say i don't miss you yet,
and i
i can't say i ain't into it
but i
i do mean it when i say
i don't want to
i don't
don't want to
no
accidental
we should have never been
friends at first
but lovers when we did
try to recover
tried to leave it all
but no one
forgave me and i can't forget it all
so
i can't say i don't miss you yet
and i
i can't say i ain't into it
but i
i do mean it when i say
i don't want to
i don't
don't want to
no
take me far
take me far from here
forget my future
tell em that i'm weird
erase my sorrow
please erase my past
cause if you don't
i fear in this town i will not last
no!
i can't say
say i don't miss you yet
and i
i can't say i ain't into it
but i
i do meant it when i say
i don't want to
i don't
don't want to
no
i don't want to
i don't
don't want to
no no!
never a peep to say
but i
get all weird when you come my way
started soft
started like a friend
couple months
and now i want you back
well i can't say i don't miss you yet,
and i
i can't say i ain't into it
but i
i do mean it when i say
i don't want to
i don't
don't want to
no
accidental
we should have never been
friends at first
but lovers when we did
try to recover
tried to leave it all
but no one
forgave me and i can't forget it all
so
i can't say i don't miss you yet
and i
i can't say i ain't into it
but i
i do mean it when i say
i don't want to
i don't
don't want to
no
take me far
take me far from here
forget my future
tell em that i'm weird
erase my sorrow
please erase my past
cause if you don't
i fear in this town i will not last
no!
i can't say
say i don't miss you yet
and i
i can't say i ain't into it
but i
i do meant it when i say
i don't want to
i don't
don't want to
no
i don't want to
i don't
don't want to
no no!
9.2.12 (squeak)
from
chapped lips,
squeak
words.
quiet,
but steady.
chatter
incessantly
filling
the
creaks
and
cracks
of these
lost walls.
waves
of
cold
and warmth
bombarding.
still,
yes,
still.
chapped lips,
squeak
words.
quiet,
but steady.
chatter
incessantly
filling
the
creaks
and
cracks
of these
lost walls.
waves
of
cold
and warmth
bombarding.
still,
yes,
still.
9.2.12 (forests, from dust)
forests
from dust
and
still
one sound
resonates
these desolate
halls.
minutes
to months
still
an image
floods
these gates.
faces,
many faces,
fill
what was left
but for
how long?
wait,
lingering.
from dust
and
still
one sound
resonates
these desolate
halls.
minutes
to months
still
an image
floods
these gates.
faces,
many faces,
fill
what was left
but for
how long?
wait,
lingering.
8.31.12 (tml)
you're talking
again.
shut up.
you've done it
again.
you've mentioned
a name,
you've made
a sound.
please,
for us all,
shut up.
you are causing
a commotion,
please,
shut up.
why don't you just
shut up.
do us all,
a favor,
at the least,
please,
shut up.
again.
shut up.
you've done it
again.
you've mentioned
a name,
you've made
a sound.
please,
for us all,
shut up.
you are causing
a commotion,
please,
shut up.
why don't you just
shut up.
do us all,
a favor,
at the least,
please,
shut up.
8.31.12 (a cure)
a cure
much more
a lesson
learned
or forgotten.
a notion
of kindness
a message
from within.
a means
to forget
a means
to begin.
time without,
time within.
stuck,
still,
unforgiven,
yes, still.
bent,
a bit,
i almost escaped
your web,
nearly to another,
but i was drawn
back
in search
of
a cure.
much more
a lesson
learned
or forgotten.
a notion
of kindness
a message
from within.
a means
to forget
a means
to begin.
time without,
time within.
stuck,
still,
unforgiven,
yes, still.
bent,
a bit,
i almost escaped
your web,
nearly to another,
but i was drawn
back
in search
of
a cure.
8.29.12 (variations on disappointment)
a fool
a drunkard
a sappy son of a bitch
a lazy degenerate
a tired piece of shit
a mediocre man
at best.
a moron
a hopeless
hopeful bastard
a hard-hearted softy
a fucking jerk
a sorry boy on a
lost week.
each day
goes by;
another minute,
another miracle.
i guess i can still say
at least i'm fucking trying.
a drunkard
a sappy son of a bitch
a lazy degenerate
a tired piece of shit
a mediocre man
at best.
a moron
a hopeless
hopeful bastard
a hard-hearted softy
a fucking jerk
a sorry boy on a
lost week.
each day
goes by;
another minute,
another miracle.
i guess i can still say
at least i'm fucking trying.
8.10.12 (shrines)
order
departed
from
daily routine
still
shrines
are erected
in the shadow
of three
and voices
faded, carried
on winds
wayward breeze;
one still
remains fleeing
from painful
memory
and shrines
erected,
are buried
in me,
words crumble,
time slows,
still roads unfolding.
two parting,
two whole,
one discomforting;
still
enveloped,
still
buried in the
shadow,
of shrines
made of
three.
departed
from
daily routine
still
shrines
are erected
in the shadow
of three
and voices
faded, carried
on winds
wayward breeze;
one still
remains fleeing
from painful
memory
and shrines
erected,
are buried
in me,
words crumble,
time slows,
still roads unfolding.
two parting,
two whole,
one discomforting;
still
enveloped,
still
buried in the
shadow,
of shrines
made of
three.
8.9.12 (gardener)
i built you a garden
then i burned it down
but everything still screamed your name
so i packed up and i left town.
i packed up quick
i took my leave
but your presence followed
and your ghost haunts me.
i wanted to keep you
to have you as mine
your heart remains elsewhere
and i am shackled to time.
then i burned it down
but everything still screamed your name
so i packed up and i left town.
i packed up quick
i took my leave
but your presence followed
and your ghost haunts me.
i wanted to keep you
to have you as mine
your heart remains elsewhere
and i am shackled to time.
8.8.12 (from some time in july)
a flickering fire
and a cool breeze
above:
the clear night sky.
i have nothing
to worry for,
and yet,
i do not
feel whole.
and a cool breeze
above:
the clear night sky.
i have nothing
to worry for,
and yet,
i do not
feel whole.
8.5.12 (rockaway)
wind
wailing
past
windows
on a cloudy
gray mourning.
time crawls by
like
babies born
from memory.
more time
on the road
is less time
to feel alone.
wailing
past
windows
on a cloudy
gray mourning.
time crawls by
like
babies born
from memory.
more time
on the road
is less time
to feel alone.
8.4.12 (aloud)
drowned out
but still:
static;
stagnant,
noise.
feelings,
loud,
real, loud.
ears:ringing.
brain: teeming.
the road
continues
on
tinfoil
highways.
but still:
static;
stagnant,
noise.
feelings,
loud,
real, loud.
ears:ringing.
brain: teeming.
the road
continues
on
tinfoil
highways.
7.29.12 (centuries)
some days
nothing matters
but the ground
in front of you
and the
footsteps
beneath you,
and you may
walk
for a century
but only
move
an inch.
nothing matters
but the ground
in front of you
and the
footsteps
beneath you,
and you may
walk
for a century
but only
move
an inch.
6.24.12 (some one, some dream)
cold
and
tired.
watching the
stars
pass
before mountains,
far
from the desert
i am used to,
from despair.
surrounded
by green trees
by wet dew
by you.
i wish
on each
shooting
star
that i see
that some day
i will wake up
smiling
next to someone
from some dream.
and
tired.
watching the
stars
pass
before mountains,
far
from the desert
i am used to,
from despair.
surrounded
by green trees
by wet dew
by you.
i wish
on each
shooting
star
that i see
that some day
i will wake up
smiling
next to someone
from some dream.
6.29.12 (the unending)
matters
of
ego.
people
devoid
of
thought.
of
feeling.
artists,
thinkers,
emotions,
amongst
the
unending.
6.23.12 (knights in mourning)
many
knights
and many
mournings.
many spent
far
from home,
but home
is elusive
and the
knights
and
mournings
are present
forever.
knights
and many
mournings.
many spent
far
from home,
but home
is elusive
and the
knights
and
mournings
are present
forever.
6.23.12 (plain pictures)
physical
in the sense
of feeling
of love.
to be,
to feel
real.
of love,
of life.
real love.
touch,
and taste.
feeling
if only
to feel
real.
in the sense
of feeling
of love.
to be,
to feel
real.
of love,
of life.
real love.
touch,
and taste.
feeling
if only
to feel
real.
6.24.12 (apple)
the apple
of my eye
became
the apple
in my
throat;
stuck,
preventing
words,
sounds,
breath,
from escaping.
emotion
welling in
the corners
of my eyes,
strange it is,
but i do not mind.
of my eye
became
the apple
in my
throat;
stuck,
preventing
words,
sounds,
breath,
from escaping.
emotion
welling in
the corners
of my eyes,
strange it is,
but i do not mind.
6.23.12 (baffled)
phones ringing,
muffled chatter.
saliva
gathering
on my tongue.
i open
my eyes
and take
a long drink.
i look around
at a room
full of strangers
with the grip
of a
sleepless night
clinging to the
back
of my neck.
i am tired
but i am
alive
i guess.
muffled chatter.
saliva
gathering
on my tongue.
i open
my eyes
and take
a long drink.
i look around
at a room
full of strangers
with the grip
of a
sleepless night
clinging to the
back
of my neck.
i am tired
but i am
alive
i guess.
6.21.12 (in time)
in time
we will part;
in body,
in soul.
our paths
will split
may cross
or begin again.
through all
that has
passed
your presence
has haunted me
and so
the road
goes ever on
clouded
and
uncertain.
6.19.12 (in the morning)
the fog
rolls
off the mountains,
dew
clings
to the grass.
another morning
cold,
tired,
groggy.
the days
have gotten
longer,
and still
i think
of you.
6.19.12 (feelings, like fingers)
feelings
like fingers
graze the
body,
the mind.
touching
the parts
of ones
all
and
everything.
feelings
like stones
thrown
harden the
heart
and bruise
the soul.
these things
take time.
please,
understand.
like fingers
graze the
body,
the mind.
touching
the parts
of ones
all
and
everything.
feelings
like stones
thrown
harden the
heart
and bruise
the soul.
these things
take time.
please,
understand.
6.19.12 (found on my phone)
anguish:
not the word,
or a definition
but the feeling.
a longing
or a thirst,
unquenchable.
for all,
forever.
this knot
will not
leave,
and i hope
it never does.
not the word,
or a definition
but the feeling.
a longing
or a thirst,
unquenchable.
for all,
forever.
this knot
will not
leave,
and i hope
it never does.
6.12.12 (weight)
sunken eyes
adrift.
long days
amid
strangers
to forgive
transgressions,
to find
a way
back home.
i would come
at your call
if you beckoned,
but for now
i must stay,
i must wait.
adrift.
long days
amid
strangers
to forgive
transgressions,
to find
a way
back home.
i would come
at your call
if you beckoned,
but for now
i must stay,
i must wait.
6.12.12 (within/without)
frailty.
fault-ridden
and
tired.
a beast
behind,
within.
tiresome days
become
lonesome nights
and
the beast
sleeps patiently
beneath
the weight.
fault-ridden
and
tired.
a beast
behind,
within.
tiresome days
become
lonesome nights
and
the beast
sleeps patiently
beneath
the weight.
6.7.12 (flounder)
floundering
drowning
in bad habits
in bad decisions.
working
to forget
ambition
or so it
seems.
trying to
erase
what
cannot be.
waking up
cloudy,
trying to feel
normal,
to repeat
come nightfall.
drowning
in bad habits
in bad decisions.
working
to forget
ambition
or so it
seems.
trying to
erase
what
cannot be.
waking up
cloudy,
trying to feel
normal,
to repeat
come nightfall.
6.7.12 (persistence)
persistence
i have heard
is worth more
than gold.
i don't know
if i have the
patience
or even
the luck
to continue
to persist.
what i see
as being
worth it,
may just be
a fool's quest:
a means
to an end.
i have heard
is worth more
than gold.
i don't know
if i have the
patience
or even
the luck
to continue
to persist.
what i see
as being
worth it,
may just be
a fool's quest:
a means
to an end.
6.7.12 (if)
i couldn't say
if what i
want
is what is
needed
though it
hurts
though it
feels
so.
i want
heart,
i want two
to be
as one.
if what i
want
is what is
needed
though it
hurts
though it
feels
so.
i want
heart,
i want two
to be
as one.
6.7.12 (for others)
more,
always more.
i had missed
what we had,
but this
became
so pinnacle
so misunderstood.
i have loved
when i could
but i have come
to desire
another place,
another time
another
memory.
always more.
i had missed
what we had,
but this
became
so pinnacle
so misunderstood.
i have loved
when i could
but i have come
to desire
another place,
another time
another
memory.
6.7.12 (more nites)
eyes tired,
burning
with
longing,
with
desire.
eyes wide
with
hope;
itching
with wishes,
old,
wishes new.
this heart
wants
what was
lost
what
wasn't.
these eyes
want to see you
happy
more
than anything
else.
burning
with
longing,
with
desire.
eyes wide
with
hope;
itching
with wishes,
old,
wishes new.
this heart
wants
what was
lost
what
wasn't.
these eyes
want to see you
happy
more
than anything
else.
6.7.12 (be)
if you
wanted me
i would be
there
i would be
any place
i would be
hell
i would be
the sky
i would be
a raft
on your ocean.
if you
wanted me
i would,
be anything.
wanted me
i would be
there
i would be
any place
i would be
hell
i would be
the sky
i would be
a raft
on your ocean.
if you
wanted me
i would,
be anything.
6.5.12 (beyond)
but you've
no idea,
but you've
no doubt.
words spoken
through looks
words spoken
without.
mine eyes
impure
without
the gaze
mine heart
lost
in-between these
hazy days.
i hope you
understand
i left not only for one
but for you
two.
no idea,
but you've
no doubt.
words spoken
through looks
words spoken
without.
mine eyes
impure
without
the gaze
mine heart
lost
in-between these
hazy days.
i hope you
understand
i left not only for one
but for you
two.
6.5.12 (moving)
with the passing days
i'll be nothing more
than a voice
once heard
with the warm breeze
i'll become nothing more
than a sad distant
memory
with time i will leave
i will lose
what i've gained
what i've come to know.
with distance we will
forget
all that once was,
but i hope that we don't.
i'll be nothing more
than a voice
once heard
with the warm breeze
i'll become nothing more
than a sad distant
memory
with time i will leave
i will lose
what i've gained
what i've come to know.
with distance we will
forget
all that once was,
but i hope that we don't.
6.4.12 (light)
moonlight
gleaming
a teeming
brain;
thoughts
swirling
like mad men
in a mad race.
the chase,
the hunt,
it's all
so drab.
bring back a piece
of the sun;
for you,
anything.
gleaming
a teeming
brain;
thoughts
swirling
like mad men
in a mad race.
the chase,
the hunt,
it's all
so drab.
bring back a piece
of the sun;
for you,
anything.
6.1.12 (chance)
the past
reads
a story
of maddened
searches
and failed
attempts.
each time
it was sought
it came
to a miserable end,
with wounds,
but wounds
that healed.
this time,
and the time
before,
were not sought,
but came in chance,
came naturally,
and in turn,
in failure,
scarred.
so long
was i searching,
and now,
i have grown weary.
reads
a story
of maddened
searches
and failed
attempts.
each time
it was sought
it came
to a miserable end,
with wounds,
but wounds
that healed.
this time,
and the time
before,
were not sought,
but came in chance,
came naturally,
and in turn,
in failure,
scarred.
so long
was i searching,
and now,
i have grown weary.
5.30.12 (truth)
restless indecision.
impulses,
escape.
i long for
the day
i see you
smile
once again,
because nothing,
not anything,
could make me
happier.
the day
i see you
smile
once again,
because nothing,
not anything,
could make me
happier.
5.30.12 (ache)
words
can never
really describe
the change.
this sea
was calm
or a bit
stagnant
but you created
a wave
i cannot
escape.
the mere mention
of your name
creates
tidal waves
and it remains
fresh in my
memory.
can never
really describe
the change.
this sea
was calm
or a bit
stagnant
but you created
a wave
i cannot
escape.
the mere mention
of your name
creates
tidal waves
and it remains
fresh in my
memory.
5.30.12 (shipwrecked)
this ship
has sunk.
floating along
on debris,
i hope to find
that ship
that wrecked too
and i hope
to ride along
together
again.
has sunk.
floating along
on debris,
i hope to find
that ship
that wrecked too
and i hope
to ride along
together
again.
5.29.12 (good morning sun)
good morning
sun.
good morning.
i am greeting you
with a heavy heart.
what hope has done;
what desire.
longing
and faith.
patience
has run away,
and i am scared
that you will too
my friend.
sun.
good morning.
i am greeting you
with a heavy heart.
what hope has done;
what desire.
longing
and faith.
patience
has run away,
and i am scared
that you will too
my friend.
5.29.12 (florentino on the river)
florentino,
my friend,
i follow
your path.
i reserve myself
until some day,
but i do not know
when that day
shall come.
the river
was too sweet
and in parting
it was as
a knife.
florentino,
my friend,
i know
your anguish,
i know
your plight.
i too await the day,
i too
my friend.
my friend,
i follow
your path.
i reserve myself
until some day,
but i do not know
when that day
shall come.
the river
was too sweet
and in parting
it was as
a knife.
florentino,
my friend,
i know
your anguish,
i know
your plight.
i too await the day,
i too
my friend.
5.29.12 (sun)
this scent
is familiar,
one i missed.
i had hoped
the best for this
the first time
and then things
were muddied.
now on impulse
on feeling
we move forward.
i am nervous,
but i have hope.
is familiar,
one i missed.
i had hoped
the best for this
the first time
and then things
were muddied.
now on impulse
on feeling
we move forward.
i am nervous,
but i have hope.
5.29.12 (summer)
late,
early,
another drink,
waiting for the
sun
again.
heartfelt,
heart.
strange words
for strange times.
feeling hope,
but feeling nervous.
so many months
to go
and already
the summer
feels like
summer.
early,
another drink,
waiting for the
sun
again.
heartfelt,
heart.
strange words
for strange times.
feeling hope,
but feeling nervous.
so many months
to go
and already
the summer
feels like
summer.
5.28.12 (sunrise)
i watched
the sun
rise
as i lay
in bed.
glinting through
the window,
drifting off
i thought
of many,
longed for
some,
and dreamt
of one.
the sun
rise
as i lay
in bed.
glinting through
the window,
drifting off
i thought
of many,
longed for
some,
and dreamt
of one.
5.28.12 (nearly)
fully clothed
and very much so
dirty
lying in a bed
that was once mine,
sun peaking through
the window.
there are many things
i long for
but now
feels like it is nearly
enough.
and very much so
dirty
lying in a bed
that was once mine,
sun peaking through
the window.
there are many things
i long for
but now
feels like it is nearly
enough.
5.28.12 (tears)
it's strange
but it has become
so much easier
for me to shed
tears
because i care less
of judgement
and i want to
really
feel.
so tears
stream
for all
and for
this
and it feels
like nothing
before.
but it has become
so much easier
for me to shed
tears
because i care less
of judgement
and i want to
really
feel.
so tears
stream
for all
and for
this
and it feels
like nothing
before.
5.28.12 (everything)
i had a dream,
that things
were different,
but only slightly.
i still missed
the same things,
i still woke up
feeling
the same longing,
the same hangover.
i fell asleep today,
for one moment,
and for one moment,
nothing was
everything.
that things
were different,
but only slightly.
i still missed
the same things,
i still woke up
feeling
the same longing,
the same hangover.
i fell asleep today,
for one moment,
and for one moment,
nothing was
everything.
5.27.12 (until next time)
leaving,
gone.
home,
but not.
elsewhere
seems nice,
but nothing
seems right.
all sorts of ideas
wandering round
but still things
seem to go down.
miles between
and people too
so many thoughts
still circle you.
mistakes? perhaps.
regret? debatable.
i am leaving soon
just because that.
i will miss you
more than words
but i hope you've seen
more than you could have heard.
gone.
home,
but not.
elsewhere
seems nice,
but nothing
seems right.
all sorts of ideas
wandering round
but still things
seem to go down.
miles between
and people too
so many thoughts
still circle you.
mistakes? perhaps.
regret? debatable.
i am leaving soon
just because that.
i will miss you
more than words
but i hope you've seen
more than you could have heard.
5.27.12 (gone)
running,
and i feel
incapable
of writing
any more,
because
this was all
for you
and because of
you
and now
i'm more
interested
in nothing
than anything
else.
and i feel
incapable
of writing
any more,
because
this was all
for you
and because of
you
and now
i'm more
interested
in nothing
than anything
else.
5.26.12 (refresh)
careful,
someone
might see.
that's sad.
i miss
a lot.
i don't
regret
much,
but
i miss
a lot,
and that
is much more
than before,
and it
hurts.
someone
might see.
that's sad.
i miss
a lot.
i don't
regret
much,
but
i miss
a lot,
and that
is much more
than before,
and it
hurts.
5.26.12 (break)
i do not like this.
i was so sure
that leaving would be
the ultimate cure.
longing, unsettled,
still very present.
feelings:persistent,
thoughts: intermittent,
get me away from here.
but i don't want to go,
and i don't want to stay,
so i spend my time
forgetting things
and losing my mind.
another drink,
to get away,
but my bed awaits,
while my thoughts
still run astray,
and i end up
in the same place.
this is a cycle,
a whirl of us,
my only way out
at the bottom of a flask.
but do not worry,
i am sure too,
this cannot last.
i was so sure
that leaving would be
the ultimate cure.
longing, unsettled,
still very present.
feelings:persistent,
thoughts: intermittent,
get me away from here.
but i don't want to go,
and i don't want to stay,
so i spend my time
forgetting things
and losing my mind.
another drink,
to get away,
but my bed awaits,
while my thoughts
still run astray,
and i end up
in the same place.
this is a cycle,
a whirl of us,
my only way out
at the bottom of a flask.
but do not worry,
i am sure too,
this cannot last.
5.26.12 (dream)
in dreams
there is hope
there is terror
in the day
i am confounded
i am filled with
a longing.
in time
we will be
free.
in life we will
try to be.
in all of this
we will walk on
we continue to dream.
there is hope
there is terror
in the day
i am confounded
i am filled with
a longing.
in time
we will be
free.
in life we will
try to be.
in all of this
we will walk on
we continue to dream.
5.25.12 (hope less)
distance
is something
that has become
far too regular
in my life
of love.
you were one
of few,
but you were one
i never knew.
you gave me hope,
and that's a laugh,
you were so close,
yet never present.
i wanted
something to come
of the many nights
we spent,
but alas,
it is now,
and nothing remains.
is something
that has become
far too regular
in my life
of love.
you were one
of few,
but you were one
i never knew.
you gave me hope,
and that's a laugh,
you were so close,
yet never present.
i wanted
something to come
of the many nights
we spent,
but alas,
it is now,
and nothing remains.
5.25.12 (reflect)
in parting
it was disaster.
in joining
it was
a travesty.
or so they
may say.
i wanted
peace,
i felt
connection,
but warmth
and kind feelings,
are shared between
two,
and with three
things get muddied
and broken,
and what could have been,
cannot be.
and sadness still
stings.
it was disaster.
in joining
it was
a travesty.
or so they
may say.
i wanted
peace,
i felt
connection,
but warmth
and kind feelings,
are shared between
two,
and with three
things get muddied
and broken,
and what could have been,
cannot be.
and sadness still
stings.
5.25.12 (berry)
you have no idea
how much i miss you.
how much i wish
we could have been
more than a few months
between a few years.
i still wish
i could go back
to prevent the
events
that led you to ruin.
i wanted us
to flourish,
to bloom,
but instead
we careened
into nothing
and now we are
just that,
nothing.
how much i miss you.
how much i wish
we could have been
more than a few months
between a few years.
i still wish
i could go back
to prevent the
events
that led you to ruin.
i wanted us
to flourish,
to bloom,
but instead
we careened
into nothing
and now we are
just that,
nothing.
5.25.12 (dead)
drowning in tears
and whiskey.
seeing images
through clouded
eyes
and i.
more drinks
aren't enough.
everyone
looks so
dead.
we are all
dying,
and we mostly
look that way,
but so many
act the part,
before they must.
and whiskey.
seeing images
through clouded
eyes
and i.
more drinks
aren't enough.
everyone
looks so
dead.
we are all
dying,
and we mostly
look that way,
but so many
act the part,
before they must.
5.25.12 (more escapism)
i've stopped
eating.
not to lose weight,
or because i think
i'm ugly.
i spend my money
on the things
that help me
through the terrors
of day to day:
the boredom,
the longing,
the loneliness.
these days drive on,
so long,
and still,
i think
of times
long gone
and times
still to come
and i want
another drink
because just one more
is never enough.
eating.
not to lose weight,
or because i think
i'm ugly.
i spend my money
on the things
that help me
through the terrors
of day to day:
the boredom,
the longing,
the loneliness.
these days drive on,
so long,
and still,
i think
of times
long gone
and times
still to come
and i want
another drink
because just one more
is never enough.
5.25.12 (madness)
i hate this.
these nights.
i have spent
countless nights
doing my best
to forget the content
of so many nights
passed,
but still,
it persists.
i will head home,
and i will head further,
but this will continue
to torment me,
unlike the others.
this is madness.
this is life.
these nights.
i have spent
countless nights
doing my best
to forget the content
of so many nights
passed,
but still,
it persists.
i will head home,
and i will head further,
but this will continue
to torment me,
unlike the others.
this is madness.
this is life.
5.25.12 (misunderstandings)
the countless reasons
for which i find
i cannot trust
another
seem to grow
daily
and yet
when others
fail to understand
i feel a frustration
unmatched.
somethings
so simple
so common
so courteous
ignored
with the slightest
wrong
or right.
i do not think
this way.
i wish to be
courteous
all the time,
because regardless
of character,
we are all still
human.
for which i find
i cannot trust
another
seem to grow
daily
and yet
when others
fail to understand
i feel a frustration
unmatched.
somethings
so simple
so common
so courteous
ignored
with the slightest
wrong
or right.
i do not think
this way.
i wish to be
courteous
all the time,
because regardless
of character,
we are all still
human.
5.24.12 (return)
the wind
could not sound
as sweet
as your voice
even on
the clearest day
or the brightest night.
the sweetest fruit
could not taste as good
as the words that come
from the pit of your heart
and exhume your gloom.
i want to see
what you feel like
when you feel most free
when you feel truly happy.
i want to take you there
back to the place you once knew
back to the place where
you thought you could stay
where you thought you'd never return.
i want to take you there.
could not sound
as sweet
as your voice
even on
the clearest day
or the brightest night.
the sweetest fruit
could not taste as good
as the words that come
from the pit of your heart
and exhume your gloom.
i want to see
what you feel like
when you feel most free
when you feel truly happy.
i want to take you there
back to the place you once knew
back to the place where
you thought you could stay
where you thought you'd never return.
i want to take you there.
5.24.12 (inable)
tonight
is a nightmare.
i am awake,
and i am drunk,
and i was at a bar,
with many beautiful girls,
but i could not
speak to
the beautiful girl
that was placed in my
sight,
and i could not
speak to
the beautiful girl
i have placed in my
sight,
and instead
i return home
to an empty bed
and think
of an a
and a j
and an r
and an h
and more
and feel regret
and remorse
and wish
that longing
was a feeling
i was not acquainted with.
and suddenly
i wish to return
to that stupid
cold,
lonesome
bed
i have grown all too
accustomed to.
is a nightmare.
i am awake,
and i am drunk,
and i was at a bar,
with many beautiful girls,
but i could not
speak to
the beautiful girl
that was placed in my
sight,
and i could not
speak to
the beautiful girl
i have placed in my
sight,
and instead
i return home
to an empty bed
and think
of an a
and a j
and an r
and an h
and more
and feel regret
and remorse
and wish
that longing
was a feeling
i was not acquainted with.
and suddenly
i wish to return
to that stupid
cold,
lonesome
bed
i have grown all too
accustomed to.
5.24.12 (hope)
more drinks
that harm
that hinder.
more drinks
that enable
the cinders.
the cinders of love
of hate
of hope.
the hope that
hope
is something
worth
hoping for.
that these times
spent,
passed,
wasted,
have not been
just because.
i really hope not.
that harm
that hinder.
more drinks
that enable
the cinders.
the cinders of love
of hate
of hope.
the hope that
hope
is something
worth
hoping for.
that these times
spent,
passed,
wasted,
have not been
just because.
i really hope not.
5.24.12 (myth)
i was asked
if i believe
in the myth
of love
and i hated
my response
because it was
not one that i
chose
but one that
was forced unto
me.
it does exist,
albeit
unwillingly,
unfortunately,
fortunately,
and willingly.
tears will be shed,
hearts will be broken,
but hearts will be whole,
and so will two.
if i believe
in the myth
of love
and i hated
my response
because it was
not one that i
chose
but one that
was forced unto
me.
it does exist,
albeit
unwillingly,
unfortunately,
fortunately,
and willingly.
tears will be shed,
hearts will be broken,
but hearts will be whole,
and so will two.
5.24.12 (ruin)
i have tried
tried to feel
that there was
wrong
in what was
felt,
but i
do not.
i do not
believe
we strayed,
but that we
followed
a path
spoken
and
chosen.
i believe
you felt
vulnerable
for one moment,
just that,
and let that
lead us
into this
ruin.
tried to feel
that there was
wrong
in what was
felt,
but i
do not.
i do not
believe
we strayed,
but that we
followed
a path
spoken
and
chosen.
i believe
you felt
vulnerable
for one moment,
just that,
and let that
lead us
into this
ruin.
5.22.12 (bed)
in this bed
i am lost
somewhere
in between
a sentence
and
a sanctuary.
i am safe
from unwanted
feelings
but imprisoned
within my
thinking.
i do not wish
to leave,
but i must.
i am lost
somewhere
in between
a sentence
and
a sanctuary.
i am safe
from unwanted
feelings
but imprisoned
within my
thinking.
i do not wish
to leave,
but i must.
5.22.12 (400)
a lifetime
of regret.
a lifetime
of dreams.
a lifetime
of longing.
a lifetime
of mimicry.
a lifetime
of bullshit.
a lifetime
of being told what is right.
a lifetime
of right
and of
wrong.
a lifetime
of words
numbers
meanings
feelings.
a lifetime
of disagreements.
a lifetime
of living.
of regret.
a lifetime
of dreams.
a lifetime
of longing.
a lifetime
of mimicry.
a lifetime
of bullshit.
a lifetime
of being told what is right.
a lifetime
of right
and of
wrong.
a lifetime
of words
numbers
meanings
feelings.
a lifetime
of disagreements.
a lifetime
of living.
5.22.12 (clear moon)
sad
and
dissecting
my belongings.
trying to find
what is
and what
has been.
finding what
never was
and what will
be.
ridding oneself
of
past,
present;
future.
regret,
relived.
remorse,
relapsed.
redemption,
redistributed.
nothing feels
as if it did
before,
as if it ever
was supposed to.
i wanted so badly
to love her
or her, or her,
but she got in the way,
and so did she,
and so will she,
and i will continue
to be unable to love
those who i do not
and love
those who i cannot.
and
dissecting
my belongings.
trying to find
what is
and what
has been.
finding what
never was
and what will
be.
ridding oneself
of
past,
present;
future.
regret,
relived.
remorse,
relapsed.
redemption,
redistributed.
nothing feels
as if it did
before,
as if it ever
was supposed to.
i wanted so badly
to love her
or her, or her,
but she got in the way,
and so did she,
and so will she,
and i will continue
to be unable to love
those who i do not
and love
those who i cannot.
5.22.12 (hurt)
we
we are not
allowed
in
friendship
in
anything.
we
have been
banished
from being
you and i.
with some
strange,
skewed
sense,
it makes
sense,
but
no one
not a single
person
listened.
i suppose
we can only
accept
what we are
given
but this feels
so fake,
so unforgiven,
that i don't think
that i want to be
forgiven
or forgotten.
maybe,
just
maybe.
we are not
allowed
in
friendship
in
anything.
we
have been
banished
from being
you and i.
with some
strange,
skewed
sense,
it makes
sense,
but
no one
not a single
person
listened.
i suppose
we can only
accept
what we are
given
but this feels
so fake,
so unforgiven,
that i don't think
that i want to be
forgiven
or forgotten.
maybe,
just
maybe.
5.20.12 (illness)
illness
reaches
a fever pitch
then halts
and
creativity
feels less
present
and
motivation
continues
to come
and
to go.
reaches
a fever pitch
then halts
and
creativity
feels less
present
and
motivation
continues
to come
and
to go.
5.20.12 (lack)
call it
lack of interest.
when some things
don't want to
function
anymore.
shutting down.
over
out.
lack of interest.
when some things
don't want to
function
anymore.
shutting down.
over
out.
5.20.12 (more)
mistakes
i guess
we made some.
the road,
more clear
than before,
leads in opposite
directions.
more time
to think
to try
to be.
more mistakes
to be made
and more time
to make up
for time lost.
i guess
we made some.
the road,
more clear
than before,
leads in opposite
directions.
more time
to think
to try
to be.
more mistakes
to be made
and more time
to make up
for time lost.
5.19.12 (less)
less fitting in
more feeling sad.
less working to be different
and more being mad.
confused often
but still fun to be had.
with the company of these friends,
one can only be glad.
thankful for fortune
thankful for life
somedays are like gold
others cut deep like a knife.
a predictable poet,
a loveless heart.
a naive child,
a fool from the start.
juvenile at best,
the words that escape
forever muddled
and always late.
this is a shitty self-portrait,
a piece of garbage,
and i don't feel like
rhyming anymore.
more feeling sad.
less working to be different
and more being mad.
confused often
but still fun to be had.
with the company of these friends,
one can only be glad.
thankful for fortune
thankful for life
somedays are like gold
others cut deep like a knife.
a predictable poet,
a loveless heart.
a naive child,
a fool from the start.
juvenile at best,
the words that escape
forever muddled
and always late.
this is a shitty self-portrait,
a piece of garbage,
and i don't feel like
rhyming anymore.
5.16.12 (loved ones)
suddenly
everything
has come
together.
the idea
thought,
understood,
practiced,
but scorned
in senses.
the idea
thought,
understood,
practiced,
but scorned
in senses.
one does not
require
company
to enjoy any
experience,
but it becomes
miles,
millions,
lightyears,
greater,
in the company
of those one
loves.
5.16.12 (peril)
i think
there are
few
that understand
the perils
of love.
many
can comprehend
its plight,
and its cost,
but few
experience it
or the pitfalls
with having
graced the surface
to be denied
that lightness.
there are
few
that understand
the perils
of love.
many
can comprehend
its plight,
and its cost,
but few
experience it
or the pitfalls
with having
graced the surface
to be denied
that lightness.
5.16.12 (something i wrote earlier this month in my phone that i found tonight)
in situations
unsettling
muddled
with many
drinks.
confused,
anxious,
sore.
another night,
another dark
empty corner
to occupy.
unsettling
muddled
with many
drinks.
confused,
anxious,
sore.
another night,
another dark
empty corner
to occupy.
5.15.12 (burn)
cleaning
dusty remnants.
packing
to take my leave.
the burn
of memories
present
in findings
beneath my
bed;
in an instant
it as if
hot coals
have been placed
inside my chest.
dusty remnants.
packing
to take my leave.
the burn
of memories
present
in findings
beneath my
bed;
in an instant
it as if
hot coals
have been placed
inside my chest.
5.15.12 (blame)
disconnected.
distanced.
i can feel
the distrust
and discourse
still very present
in the relationships
i once knew.
friends
are more
acquaintances.
of course
i am to blame,
only i.
trust;
i betrayed
and now i
trust
none.
distanced.
i can feel
the distrust
and discourse
still very present
in the relationships
i once knew.
friends
are more
acquaintances.
of course
i am to blame,
only i.
trust;
i betrayed
and now i
trust
none.
5.15.12 (bored)
stuck.
less will,
less resolve,
more lazy,
more hiding.
afraid to confront
how boring
the days have
become.
less will,
less resolve,
more lazy,
more hiding.
afraid to confront
how boring
the days have
become.
5.15.12 (going)
i'm going.
i'm going to leave this.
i'm going to leave you.
i'm going to take what is left
of what i cared about.
i'm going to the mountains.
i'm going to the rivers.
i'm going as far from myself as i can,
and i'm going to leave that too.
i'm going to be gone.
i'm going to be something else,
something more.
i'm going to be back,
but not too soon.
i'm going to leave this.
i'm going to leave you.
i'm going to take what is left
of what i cared about.
i'm going to the mountains.
i'm going to the rivers.
i'm going as far from myself as i can,
and i'm going to leave that too.
i'm going to be gone.
i'm going to be something else,
something more.
i'm going to be back,
but not too soon.
5.15.12 (running)
hiding.
longer hours
in this
cave.
wishing
time
to
stop.
another
hour
of dreams
of nightmares.
another hour
in this bed.
i tried
to sleep
the day
through,
but i kept
waking up
frightened.
longer hours
in this
cave.
wishing
time
to
stop.
another
hour
of dreams
of nightmares.
another hour
in this bed.
i tried
to sleep
the day
through,
but i kept
waking up
frightened.
5.13.12 (cold nites)
looking forward
and peering
inward.
more days
aloft,
adrift.
lost among
wayward thoughts,
but
collected
all the same.
familiar,
with this,
but unacquainted
with familiarity.
another mourning
another night.
and peering
inward.
more days
aloft,
adrift.
lost among
wayward thoughts,
but
collected
all the same.
familiar,
with this,
but unacquainted
with familiarity.
another mourning
another night.
5.12.12 (less)
is this
even worth
noting?
should we even
try
and make things
worthwhile?
another day,
naturally,
but i
feel
less.
i wish that
we had
one day less
for one day less
i cared.
even worth
noting?
should we even
try
and make things
worthwhile?
another day,
naturally,
but i
feel
less.
i wish that
we had
one day less
for one day less
i cared.
5.12.12 (hell)
hell
is
day
to day.
hell
is this.
hell
is current
and past.
hell is
everywhere.
hell
is
us.
is
day
to day.
hell
is this.
hell
is current
and past.
hell is
everywhere.
hell
is
us.
5.12.12 (haha)
distrust,
distaste.
i am guilty,
and so are
you.
this all
hurts.
this all
feels like
hell.
we have
built a castle
of twigs
only to watch it
wither
and fall
under the weight
of us all.
distaste.
i am guilty,
and so are
you.
this all
hurts.
this all
feels like
hell.
we have
built a castle
of twigs
only to watch it
wither
and fall
under the weight
of us all.
5.12.12 (negative)
i hate this.
the negativity
that flows
through everyone.
i hate
that i come
home
and
am disappointed
that i woke up.
these people
claim
to send out
positivity
but this all feels
damp
with
awful
energy
and i feel weak
under it's spell.
the negativity
that flows
through everyone.
i hate
that i come
home
and
am disappointed
that i woke up.
these people
claim
to send out
positivity
but this all feels
damp
with
awful
energy
and i feel weak
under it's spell.
5.9.12 (scared)
the future
is scary.
strange,
it is just
what is to come,
not really
to relive the
terrors
of days past,
but to find
something
unseen before
and really
live.
that is
fear.
to live through
something
we have yet
to confront.
how scary
tomorrow
has become.
is scary.
strange,
it is just
what is to come,
not really
to relive the
terrors
of days past,
but to find
something
unseen before
and really
live.
that is
fear.
to live through
something
we have yet
to confront.
how scary
tomorrow
has become.
5.9.12 (for you)
i am
your accomplice.
i am
your advocate.
i want you
to succeed.
i want you
to be happy.
whether it is
relevant
to me
or not,
i want everything
for you.
your accomplice.
i am
your advocate.
i want you
to succeed.
i want you
to be happy.
whether it is
relevant
to me
or not,
i want everything
for you.
5.6.12 (angels)
i don't want
to be nice
to everyone.
it doesn't
seem right.
it isn't a
matter
of being fair,
but more
of saving
what is good
for the few
friends
that are as
angels.
to be nice
to everyone.
it doesn't
seem right.
it isn't a
matter
of being fair,
but more
of saving
what is good
for the few
friends
that are as
angels.
5.9.12 (slow + steady)
stressful days,
but not in
bad ways.
maybe a little.
i don't know.
i have a lot
to do
and a lot
to move.
i hope you
understand.
i'm trying.
i'm really
trying.
i don't even know
what that
means,
but i mean it.
i am going to
go.
i am going to
do
what i said
i would do.
i am going to find
the meaning
of this.
i don't expect it
to be pretty,
i don't expect it
to be lame,
but it will be something,
perhaps something
more,
or perhaps something
the same.
but not in
bad ways.
maybe a little.
i don't know.
i have a lot
to do
and a lot
to move.
i hope you
understand.
i'm trying.
i'm really
trying.
i don't even know
what that
means,
but i mean it.
i am going to
go.
i am going to
do
what i said
i would do.
i am going to find
the meaning
of this.
i don't expect it
to be pretty,
i don't expect it
to be lame,
but it will be something,
perhaps something
more,
or perhaps something
the same.
5.7.12 (tonight)
whiskey.
more
whiskey.
week night,
but still
more drinks.
fuzzy head,
clear mind.
another
whiskey.
nothing to do
so i'm doing nothing.
more
whiskey.
good day?
more
whiskey.
bad day?
more
whiskey.
tonight?
another
whiskey.
more
whiskey.
week night,
but still
more drinks.
fuzzy head,
clear mind.
another
whiskey.
nothing to do
so i'm doing nothing.
more
whiskey.
good day?
more
whiskey.
bad day?
more
whiskey.
tonight?
another
whiskey.
5.7.12 (i's)
i don't know
if you saw it
in my eyes;
the reluctant
obedience
to the wound.
if you did
then you know
i could never
discern you,
but if you didn't
then forget this all
and i'll have
another drink please.
if you saw it
in my eyes;
the reluctant
obedience
to the wound.
if you did
then you know
i could never
discern you,
but if you didn't
then forget this all
and i'll have
another drink please.
5.7.12 (comedy)
i'm sure
the heavens
do jest
in filling
the wistful times
with eerie
and unsavory
coincidence.
those many moments:
reminders of
what we wish
to forget.
the heavens
do jest
in filling
the wistful times
with eerie
and unsavory
coincidence.
those many moments:
reminders of
what we wish
to forget.
5.5.12 (tired)
i don't know,
i thought i could allow myself to write
freely
but i can't.
i feel the burn,
of someone else's fingernails,
on my throat,
and on the back of my neck.
it is strange;
i feel a familiar sting,
coupled with the unfamiliar stings
of familiar feelings.
heartache,
anguish,
exhaustion.
this is normal,
but it shouldn't be.
i thought i could allow myself to write
freely
but i can't.
i feel the burn,
of someone else's fingernails,
on my throat,
and on the back of my neck.
it is strange;
i feel a familiar sting,
coupled with the unfamiliar stings
of familiar feelings.
heartache,
anguish,
exhaustion.
this is normal,
but it shouldn't be.
5.5.12 (reluctant)
i've never
wanted you
to feel
what i felt.
i've never
wanted
to have you
object
to the things
passing through
my periphery.
i can't say
that i objected
to you being
part of this,
but i am
forever aware
of what
you are not.
wanted you
to feel
what i felt.
i've never
wanted
to have you
object
to the things
passing through
my periphery.
i can't say
that i objected
to you being
part of this,
but i am
forever aware
of what
you are not.
5.4.12 (hopefulless)
i can't help
that i am solemn.
i can't change
my somber demeanor.
it is the weariness
that preserves me
from the pangs and pains
of nostalgia
and love
or lack of.
it is the fuel
for my restless days;
the tasteless,
wretched moments
that carry me,
drifting,
day to day.
i carry my straight face:
reluctant,
serious,
hopeful.
i live forever
a contradiction
to the thoughts
teeming
within my brain.
that i am solemn.
i can't change
my somber demeanor.
it is the weariness
that preserves me
from the pangs and pains
of nostalgia
and love
or lack of.
it is the fuel
for my restless days;
the tasteless,
wretched moments
that carry me,
drifting,
day to day.
i carry my straight face:
reluctant,
serious,
hopeful.
i live forever
a contradiction
to the thoughts
teeming
within my brain.
5.4.12 (if i could)
if i could
i would forget
that i had ever
held grudges.
if i could
i would forget
the many thoughts
i knew to be impossible.
if i could
i would forget
the biases i have held
before, now, or ever.
if i could,
i would forget
the thoughts
that have condemned me
to this eternal solitude.
i would forget
that i had ever
held grudges.
if i could
i would forget
the many thoughts
i knew to be impossible.
if i could
i would forget
the biases i have held
before, now, or ever.
if i could,
i would forget
the thoughts
that have condemned me
to this eternal solitude.
5.4.12 (everyman)
sadness
is nothing more
than a road
you take
on a path
of many roads
and of many
homes.
happiness will
come
and it will definitely
go,
but that is the point;
either you live
or you don't.
is nothing more
than a road
you take
on a path
of many roads
and of many
homes.
happiness will
come
and it will definitely
go,
but that is the point;
either you live
or you don't.
5.1.12 (days)
restless,
drifting
through the
days.
crushed
by the weight
of the
empty sky above.
an endless
array
of sounds
flood my ears
as i close
my eyes,
to relax,
to unwind,
to unravel.
the tethers
of earthly
feelings
deny a
clarity
i've sought
for a thousand
eternities
and continue
to seek
until
the end
of time.
drifting
through the
days.
crushed
by the weight
of the
empty sky above.
an endless
array
of sounds
flood my ears
as i close
my eyes,
to relax,
to unwind,
to unravel.
the tethers
of earthly
feelings
deny a
clarity
i've sought
for a thousand
eternities
and continue
to seek
until
the end
of time.
4.28.12 (trapped)
drunk,
still drinking.
anxious,
still thinking.
furtive hunters,
making their rounds.
sorting females,
leaps and bounds.
dark eyes,
hard hearts,
so many voices,
and many false starts.
illusory terms
with the world,
easily tangled
by some kind girl.
words from the heart
capture the soul,
but the hardest hearts
remain forever cold.
still drinking.
anxious,
still thinking.
furtive hunters,
making their rounds.
sorting females,
leaps and bounds.
dark eyes,
hard hearts,
so many voices,
and many false starts.
illusory terms
with the world,
easily tangled
by some kind girl.
words from the heart
capture the soul,
but the hardest hearts
remain forever cold.
4.27.12 (anxious zine party talk)
i want to take
a razor blade
to my arm
and watch
your blood
spill
from me.
i want to
split
my skull
and watch
your memory
fly out
of the chasm.
i want to
vomit
every word
exchanged
between us.
i want to rid myself
of this
wretched illness.
4.26.12 (destroying)
bad decisions.
late nights
and drinks.
your ghost
still haunts me;
your earthly presence
near or far.
i drink more
to forget
steps i should
have taken
things i should
have never said.
i wake up,
sad,
confused.
drink coffee,
try to
make it
through the day
into the night;
back to the bar
and more drinks.
i dig myself deeper
into debt,
drink myself
stupid
again.
i am destroying
myself
to destroy
your memory.
late nights
and drinks.
your ghost
still haunts me;
your earthly presence
near or far.
i drink more
to forget
steps i should
have taken
things i should
have never said.
i wake up,
sad,
confused.
drink coffee,
try to
make it
through the day
into the night;
back to the bar
and more drinks.
i dig myself deeper
into debt,
drink myself
stupid
again.
i am destroying
myself
to destroy
your memory.
4.24.12 (patient)
patience.
remember,
patience.
there have been
an infinite amount
of sayings to
remind:
all good things
will come in time.
remember,
patience.
remember,
patience.
there have been
an infinite amount
of sayings to
remind:
all good things
will come in time.
remember,
patience.
4.24.12 (lone)
i know
at times
i am
lonely,
but i have
seen
the hunters
and
the hunted
and i know
who is truly
lonely.
at times
i am
lonely,
but i have
seen
the hunters
and
the hunted
and i know
who is truly
lonely.
4.24.12 (child)
every day
i see it:
skin,
wilting
like flowers,
devoid of
light,
of water.
hair,
sprouting
like vines
from every pore.
skin,
discolored
like molded bread.
each day
this fate
edges ever closer,
to the day
that i too
ripen with age
and in passing
return
to dust.
i see it:
skin,
wilting
like flowers,
devoid of
light,
of water.
hair,
sprouting
like vines
from every pore.
skin,
discolored
like molded bread.
each day
this fate
edges ever closer,
to the day
that i too
ripen with age
and in passing
return
to dust.
4.24.12 (nails)
since i
stopped
chewing my nails,
this hand
does not look
like mine.
it no longer
looks nervous
but normal.
thats nice,
but i dont
think i
like it.
stopped
chewing my nails,
this hand
does not look
like mine.
it no longer
looks nervous
but normal.
thats nice,
but i dont
think i
like it.
4.24.12 (clumsy)
there are
many girls
whom i could have
loved.
many for which
my pen has
tried
to find words
to match their
beauty.
a clumsy hand,
an untamed soul;
a juvenile mind,
a heart of gold.
i have wanted
to love,
but a clumsy hand
and a
juvenile mind
are scarcely equipped
for a beauty of their kind.
many girls
whom i could have
loved.
many for which
my pen has
tried
to find words
to match their
beauty.
a clumsy hand,
an untamed soul;
a juvenile mind,
a heart of gold.
i have wanted
to love,
but a clumsy hand
and a
juvenile mind
are scarcely equipped
for a beauty of their kind.
4.24.12 (art)
some people's
conceptions of
art
are so fucked
to me.
they prefer
structure
or
regurgitation.
i like
the kind
thats just as
fucked
as the person
creating it.
conceptions of
art
are so fucked
to me.
they prefer
structure
or
regurgitation.
i like
the kind
thats just as
fucked
as the person
creating it.
4.24.12 ($)
i've never
been good
with money.
i've always
hated
the holes
it burns
in my pockets
and the machines
its turned
my loved ones into.
scraping by
gets old,
but its better
than greed.
been good
with money.
i've always
hated
the holes
it burns
in my pockets
and the machines
its turned
my loved ones into.
scraping by
gets old,
but its better
than greed.
4.24.12 (pills)
times like this
make me think
that perhaps
i really should
consider a
doctor.
maybe some
pills
really might
help,
but i've always
preferred
my futile efforts
at fixing
myself.
make me think
that perhaps
i really should
consider a
doctor.
maybe some
pills
really might
help,
but i've always
preferred
my futile efforts
at fixing
myself.
4.24.12 (optimism)
a morning
much like
the rest
but i feel
strangely
optimistic.
i don't know
where this
came from
but i wish
it would
stay.
much like
the rest
but i feel
strangely
optimistic.
i don't know
where this
came from
but i wish
it would
stay.
4.22.12 (numbers)
two
became one
and one
became two
then two
returned to one
and one returned
to two
and one
became
half
and then
numbers
became
irrelevant
in the shadow
of three.
became one
and one
became two
then two
returned to one
and one returned
to two
and one
became
half
and then
numbers
became
irrelevant
in the shadow
of three.
4.22.12 (times)
those nights
we spent
wasting time
were worth
much more
than the many times
i have spent
doing anything
worthwhile.
we spent
wasting time
were worth
much more
than the many times
i have spent
doing anything
worthwhile.
4.22.12 (ashamed)
a broken heart
is nothing more
than another
article
of jewelry
that many wear.
some flashy,
some worn,
some cheap,
but all
broken.
i wear mine
shamefully,
because
i have always
believed
in love,
but i've never
trusted
the way
love works.
is nothing more
than another
article
of jewelry
that many wear.
some flashy,
some worn,
some cheap,
but all
broken.
i wear mine
shamefully,
because
i have always
believed
in love,
but i've never
trusted
the way
love works.
4.22.12 (i)
i.
just that,
seems beyond
strange.
i
am
not the
same
as you?
we are not
as one
in some way?
we eternally
search
for reasons
why we are
different
than someone else,
because everything
feels so
saturated
and diluted
by persons
grey.
is there ever
a feeling of
whole
in
i?
just that,
seems beyond
strange.
i
am
not the
same
as you?
we are not
as one
in some way?
we eternally
search
for reasons
why we are
different
than someone else,
because everything
feels so
saturated
and diluted
by persons
grey.
is there ever
a feeling of
whole
in
i?
4.20.12 (corner)
well,
you have
survived,
and i,
i have
retired
back to
the corner
from whence
i came.
you have
survived,
and i,
i have
retired
back to
the corner
from whence
i came.
4.19.12 (outward)
joy,
pure
and
undulated,
is a
feeling
far beyond
the scope of
words.
it is hard
to be
happy
when everything
feels so
tasteless.
pure
and
undulated,
is a
feeling
far beyond
the scope of
words.
it is hard
to be
happy
when everything
feels so
tasteless.
4.19.12 (+/-)
i tried
being a
positive person.
i worked
against
the negative thoughts
to turn them
objective.
things were
going well,
but events
have made me
question
everything.
so now
the objective being
argues
with my
distaste
for everything
everyone.
i feel
like such a
hypocrite,
stuck
arguing
with myself.
being a
positive person.
i worked
against
the negative thoughts
to turn them
objective.
things were
going well,
but events
have made me
question
everything.
so now
the objective being
argues
with my
distaste
for everything
everyone.
i feel
like such a
hypocrite,
stuck
arguing
with myself.
4.19.12 (coffee + no sleep)
is there
a reason
why we
equate
physical feeling
to emotion?
like the
knots
in our
chests,
to longing
anxiety
heartbreak.
is any of this
real?
a reason
why we
equate
physical feeling
to emotion?
like the
knots
in our
chests,
to longing
anxiety
heartbreak.
is any of this
real?
4.19.12 (grey)
tomorrows
and
yesterdays:
places,
times,
people,
feelings.
now
and
never
blend
together
and
everything
seems grey.
and
yesterdays:
places,
times,
people,
feelings.
now
and
never
blend
together
and
everything
seems grey.
4.19.12 (lamentable mournings)
on lamentable
mournings
such as this,
i can feel
the weight
of my
heavy heart
burdened
by the pains
of premature aging.
these mournings
i wish
there was a shoulder
to lay my head on.
mournings
such as this,
i can feel
the weight
of my
heavy heart
burdened
by the pains
of premature aging.
these mournings
i wish
there was a shoulder
to lay my head on.
4.19.12 (serenity)
serenity
is not
a feeling
i am very
acquainted with.
anxiety
and doubt
turn my
stomach,
while
sorrow
and regret
seem to
paralyze me.
calm down,
you'll be home soon.
is not
a feeling
i am very
acquainted with.
anxiety
and doubt
turn my
stomach,
while
sorrow
and regret
seem to
paralyze me.
calm down,
you'll be home soon.
4.19.12 (fear)
i think
when i have
reached
old age,
when i am
crippled,
it will not
be caused
by neglect
for my body
in my youth,
but the fear
i have harbored
all my life
of being decrepit
of decaying
in my old age.
when i have
reached
old age,
when i am
crippled,
it will not
be caused
by neglect
for my body
in my youth,
but the fear
i have harbored
all my life
of being decrepit
of decaying
in my old age.
4.19.12 (glum)
bleak
and blank.
blue skies
and the
warm touch
of the sun.
it's a strange
feeling;
beautiful weather
for such a
glum mood.
and blank.
blue skies
and the
warm touch
of the sun.
it's a strange
feeling;
beautiful weather
for such a
glum mood.
4.17.12 (the lover's pen)
the lover's pen
can scarcely find
proper words to describe
the light that shines
from your cavernous mind
and escapes through your eyes.
can scarcely find
proper words to describe
the light that shines
from your cavernous mind
and escapes through your eyes.
4.17.12 (still)
sleep
and breakfast
and still
anxious.
sober nights,
i've stopped chewing
my nails,
anxious still.
brain teeming
with unkempt
thoughts,
and me,
a mess.
always anxious.
and breakfast
and still
anxious.
sober nights,
i've stopped chewing
my nails,
anxious still.
brain teeming
with unkempt
thoughts,
and me,
a mess.
always anxious.
4.17.12 (desire)
desire.
my bones
ache
with a
longing
for the warmth
that radiates
from flesh
upon flesh.
the taste
of skin,
of love,
unhindered.
pleasure
without another,
without love,
feels so
shameful
to me.
my bones
ache
with a
longing
for the warmth
that radiates
from flesh
upon flesh.
the taste
of skin,
of love,
unhindered.
pleasure
without another,
without love,
feels so
shameful
to me.
4.17.12 (still silly)
i feel
silly.
i don't know
when
my attitude
towards you
shifted.
i recall a night:
drunk, lost, lonely.
my head in your lap,
in the back of some truck.
but then,
it was more
matronly;
a sad friend
in the comfort
of a kind friend.
perhaps that
tenderness,
something i had
scarcely received,
was my downfall.
regardless,
i feel silly
that i still
think of you
this often.
silly.
i don't know
when
my attitude
towards you
shifted.
i recall a night:
drunk, lost, lonely.
my head in your lap,
in the back of some truck.
but then,
it was more
matronly;
a sad friend
in the comfort
of a kind friend.
perhaps that
tenderness,
something i had
scarcely received,
was my downfall.
regardless,
i feel silly
that i still
think of you
this often.
4.16.12 (big boy)
its painful
trying to live
unhindered
when the workings
of my brain
only want to
play reruns.
trying to live
unhindered
when the workings
of my brain
only want to
play reruns.
4.16.12 (gardener)
i had wanted
to be a gardener,
to plant flowers
in the cracks
of your heart.
i wished to recreate
something
beautiful;
the heart in it's
most whole form
is something of
incomparable beauty.
but the sting of
regret,
the sting of
heartache,
has not allowed
the flowers
to grow,
so your heart remains
nothing more
than cracked soil.
to be a gardener,
to plant flowers
in the cracks
of your heart.
i wished to recreate
something
beautiful;
the heart in it's
most whole form
is something of
incomparable beauty.
but the sting of
regret,
the sting of
heartache,
has not allowed
the flowers
to grow,
so your heart remains
nothing more
than cracked soil.
4.16.12 (pangs)
strange
how nostalgia
comes in many forms.
one can experience
heartbreak,
happiness,
loss,
and
love,
in an instant,
and redeem those
fleeting emotions
for one moment,
then return to
reality
an instant later.
how nostalgia
comes in many forms.
one can experience
heartbreak,
happiness,
loss,
and
love,
in an instant,
and redeem those
fleeting emotions
for one moment,
then return to
reality
an instant later.
4.13.12 (good night)
reassurance
on drunken nights
cannot compensate
for what was left behind.
darkening clouds
gather above
and you pursue what you feel
to be the winds of love.
and i am stalled
i am crippled
by the harsh winds wale
by the cold tides ripple
i wish for a carnival
a show for all friends
a happily stagnant time
one that never ends
our prison is our home
our garden is our bathroom
our sustenance our longing
our hope buried in tombs
we are the ancient
the everlasting dead
we are everything we wished we weren't
we are the nightmares in our heads.
on drunken nights
cannot compensate
for what was left behind.
darkening clouds
gather above
and you pursue what you feel
to be the winds of love.
and i am stalled
i am crippled
by the harsh winds wale
by the cold tides ripple
i wish for a carnival
a show for all friends
a happily stagnant time
one that never ends
our prison is our home
our garden is our bathroom
our sustenance our longing
our hope buried in tombs
we are the ancient
the everlasting dead
we are everything we wished we weren't
we are the nightmares in our heads.
4.12.12 (might)
a mighty man
once said
"keep your face
to the wind,"
and i have tried
to live as such,
but like men,
even the mighty ones
must perish
in due time.
once said
"keep your face
to the wind,"
and i have tried
to live as such,
but like men,
even the mighty ones
must perish
in due time.
4.12.12 (memory)
lonesome
memories
of times
passed
or past.
lost
in time
or to the
ravages
of memory.
i think i met you
once before
in a dream,
but i can't quite
remember.
memories
of times
passed
or past.
lost
in time
or to the
ravages
of memory.
i think i met you
once before
in a dream,
but i can't quite
remember.
4.12.12 (secrets)
secrets i hide
and truth i find
in dark
and crowded streets.
but lose it all
in lovers claws
when i'm tangled
in your sheets.
some friends of mine
figures of time
consult
and then we weep.
for once lost,
now found
but never
can we keep.
and truth i find
in dark
and crowded streets.
but lose it all
in lovers claws
when i'm tangled
in your sheets.
some friends of mine
figures of time
consult
and then we weep.
for once lost,
now found
but never
can we keep.
4.12.12 (journeys)
so oft
does the journey
become whitewashed
in the shadow
of the destination.
strange though,
the journey
is often
far more valuable
than start
or destination.
does the journey
become whitewashed
in the shadow
of the destination.
strange though,
the journey
is often
far more valuable
than start
or destination.
4.12.12 (bus)
sitting
on the bus
i feel the hands
of another
night at the bar
as i close my eyes.
i feel water
gathering along the edges
and saliva
slide past the knot
and down my throat.
i smell a homeless man;
strange
how they carry their scent
like luggage.
i open my eyes
for a moment
and see faces,
familiar and foreign,
then close them again
and slip back
into that dizzy state
of sad daydreaming
rest.
on the bus
i feel the hands
of another
night at the bar
as i close my eyes.
i feel water
gathering along the edges
and saliva
slide past the knot
and down my throat.
i smell a homeless man;
strange
how they carry their scent
like luggage.
i open my eyes
for a moment
and see faces,
familiar and foreign,
then close them again
and slip back
into that dizzy state
of sad daydreaming
rest.
4.12.12 (when i first met you)
when i first met you
i did not know
where you would lead me
but i would follow blindly.
when i first met you
your name
did not mean so much.
when i first met you
i watched
the sun, the moon, the stars,
vanish in your eclipse.
when i first met you
i wanted to be a part of you.
even now,
i may be
nothing more
than a memory,
but i am
with you
still.
i did not know
where you would lead me
but i would follow blindly.
when i first met you
your name
did not mean so much.
when i first met you
i watched
the sun, the moon, the stars,
vanish in your eclipse.
when i first met you
i wanted to be a part of you.
even now,
i may be
nothing more
than a memory,
but i am
with you
still.
4.12.12 (speck)
there is a name
for the colors
one sees
when rubbing
their eyes.
i cannot recall
the name
but it must
be something
beautiful.
for the colors
one sees
when rubbing
their eyes.
i cannot recall
the name
but it must
be something
beautiful.
4.12.12 (quiet)
my face
rested
in my palms;
gazing downward
my mind is in
a race
or a rut
or drowning
in a river
of whiskey.
in this state
silence
sounds like
one thousand
trains, planes, cars,
crashing into
bass drums and cymbals.
how unbearable
the quiet
has become.
rested
in my palms;
gazing downward
my mind is in
a race
or a rut
or drowning
in a river
of whiskey.
in this state
silence
sounds like
one thousand
trains, planes, cars,
crashing into
bass drums and cymbals.
how unbearable
the quiet
has become.
4.12.12 (spill)
in my heart
i see weakness,
not in the sense
of strength
but of
character.
i see my
self-doubt
and watch my steps
falter.
one's dreams,
grandeur or simple,
can carry one
only to a point,
after which one must
leap.
to leap further
and reach
beyond
what one expects
or hopes
or dreams,
is proof of will,
proof of existence.
i do not know
if i am capable
of such a leap.
i see weakness,
not in the sense
of strength
but of
character.
i see my
self-doubt
and watch my steps
falter.
one's dreams,
grandeur or simple,
can carry one
only to a point,
after which one must
leap.
to leap further
and reach
beyond
what one expects
or hopes
or dreams,
is proof of will,
proof of existence.
i do not know
if i am capable
of such a leap.
4.12.12 (defacing art)
with little effort
do i write
because it is
much easier
to translate
longing
and loneliness
and distaste
and disgust
and many more
freely walking feelings
into a poem
of ugliness,
of unending
slavery.
do i write
because it is
much easier
to translate
longing
and loneliness
and distaste
and disgust
and many more
freely walking feelings
into a poem
of ugliness,
of unending
slavery.
4.12.12 (chained)
my arm
tethered to a tree,
and you
wandering freely.
i wave
and shout
to many
passers-by,
but it is as if
no one
sees my waves
or hears
my cries.
tethered to a tree,
and you
wandering freely.
i wave
and shout
to many
passers-by,
but it is as if
no one
sees my waves
or hears
my cries.
4.12.12 (re:)
i want
to recreate
the feeling:
tired
on city buses
staring at the light
cast on the ground.
bored in bathroom stalls
shitting
staring at second rate graffiti.
lonely
in a cold, loveless bed,
eyes fixed in the dark
on the ceiling fan.
i want to recreate
what it is like
to be in love,
then destroy everything
i have built
for you.
to recreate
the feeling:
tired
on city buses
staring at the light
cast on the ground.
bored in bathroom stalls
shitting
staring at second rate graffiti.
lonely
in a cold, loveless bed,
eyes fixed in the dark
on the ceiling fan.
i want to recreate
what it is like
to be in love,
then destroy everything
i have built
for you.
4.12.12 (thoughts)
on mornings
like this:
stomach
tied in knots,
brain
teeming with untamed thoughts,
heart
squirming in the morning light.
i sit around
and wonder
what it's like
to be
anyone else.
like this:
stomach
tied in knots,
brain
teeming with untamed thoughts,
heart
squirming in the morning light.
i sit around
and wonder
what it's like
to be
anyone else.
4.12.12 (longing)
on many cold nights
have i wondered
amongst the wandering
of my thoughts
of what it is
to be alone
and it's faithful counterpart.
all i've wished for
is a hand to hold,
a warm body next to mine,
a voice that says "don't go."
but she has not come,
and i grow
colder
and
wearier
still.
have i wondered
amongst the wandering
of my thoughts
of what it is
to be alone
and it's faithful counterpart.
all i've wished for
is a hand to hold,
a warm body next to mine,
a voice that says "don't go."
but she has not come,
and i grow
colder
and
wearier
still.
4.12.12 (more feelings)
sitting
and feeling
from others;
feeling
feelings.
i'll have mine
and
you'll have yours,
and you'll vibe
with others
and then you'll go home
and so will i,
but i won't feel
quite the same,
i will go home
and i will wonder.
i will go home
and i will wait.
again.
and feeling
from others;
feeling
feelings.
i'll have mine
and
you'll have yours,
and you'll vibe
with others
and then you'll go home
and so will i,
but i won't feel
quite the same,
i will go home
and i will wonder.
i will go home
and i will wait.
again.
4.12.12 (dreaming)
i have grown tired
of yesterday's trials
and have dreamed of
tomorrow's trials.
i look toward
the sun that sets
and i have seen the blood
that many shed.
but i too grow tired
of the rambling life,
yet still i dream of
so many memorable times.
i have forgotten
so many passed yesterdays,
still i dream of tomorrow,
still i dream of happier days.
of yesterday's trials
and have dreamed of
tomorrow's trials.
i look toward
the sun that sets
and i have seen the blood
that many shed.
but i too grow tired
of the rambling life,
yet still i dream of
so many memorable times.
i have forgotten
so many passed yesterdays,
still i dream of tomorrow,
still i dream of happier days.
4.12.12 (swift)
touched by
the palm
of destruction
and of angels
that have brought me
about
but have also
dragged me
below.
into a stagnant
sea
any wave,
makes a difference,
and you
were a
tidal wave
that left
quick as you came.
the palm
of destruction
and of angels
that have brought me
about
but have also
dragged me
below.
into a stagnant
sea
any wave,
makes a difference,
and you
were a
tidal wave
that left
quick as you came.
4.12.12 (quiet)
i don't understand
how this works
but i really don't
understand
how i can
observe
and feel guilty
and betrayed
and disgust
and distaste
and longing
and disgust
and regret
and the disconnect.
i wish
that we
could crawl over
the hump
and return
to that boundary
that we crossed
because this
awkward state
of silence
is worse
than any sort of
ill will
that any of us
could have possibly
contrived.
how this works
but i really don't
understand
how i can
observe
and feel guilty
and betrayed
and disgust
and distaste
and longing
and disgust
and regret
and the disconnect.
i wish
that we
could crawl over
the hump
and return
to that boundary
that we crossed
because this
awkward state
of silence
is worse
than any sort of
ill will
that any of us
could have possibly
contrived.
4.10.12 (dishes)
the sink
is overflowing
with dirty dishes
yet again.
it seems
as if
the moment
things are cleaned
they are dirtied
a moment later,
and i'm getting
tired
of my hands
being so sore.
is overflowing
with dirty dishes
yet again.
it seems
as if
the moment
things are cleaned
they are dirtied
a moment later,
and i'm getting
tired
of my hands
being so sore.
4.10.12 (puzzle)
this puzzle
is distorted.
many pieces
still fall
to their appropriate
place,
but i have
shifted
so oft
that i
am no longer sure
where it is
that i
belong.
is distorted.
many pieces
still fall
to their appropriate
place,
but i have
shifted
so oft
that i
am no longer sure
where it is
that i
belong.
4.10.12 (off)
a full night
of sleep
yet something
feels off.
i feel the pangs
of anxiety
but for reasons
different
than before.
the uncertainty
of the future
makes me feel
hopeful,
but desolate.
of sleep
yet something
feels off.
i feel the pangs
of anxiety
but for reasons
different
than before.
the uncertainty
of the future
makes me feel
hopeful,
but desolate.
4.10.12 (ghosts)
ghosts
of memory
of feeling
haunt me.
i write these
shitty poems
to expel them
from me,
but when they
are not present
i long for
their return
only to
cast them out
once more.
of memory
of feeling
haunt me.
i write these
shitty poems
to expel them
from me,
but when they
are not present
i long for
their return
only to
cast them out
once more.
4.8.12 (aimless)
i always
feel
so aimless.
like the
subconcious movements
of my hands
and my legs
are being done
by someone else.
crushed by
boredom,
i'm getting tired
of waiting
for anything
to happen
but i'm too afraid
to risk
making a decision
i might regret.
feel
so aimless.
like the
subconcious movements
of my hands
and my legs
are being done
by someone else.
crushed by
boredom,
i'm getting tired
of waiting
for anything
to happen
but i'm too afraid
to risk
making a decision
i might regret.
4.7.12 (naive)
through drinks
i spoke
to a friend
about our ways
and he told me
of the hunt
and i told him
of the wait,
and the weight,
and he told me
i was doing well,
and i told him,
i wasn't so sure,
but he assured me
that it was better to be
patient
and to continue
to wait for
it to come,
instead of hunting
for another vulnerable
and lonesome lady,
and to continue waiting
for her to come to me.
i spoke
to a friend
about our ways
and he told me
of the hunt
and i told him
of the wait,
and the weight,
and he told me
i was doing well,
and i told him,
i wasn't so sure,
but he assured me
that it was better to be
patient
and to continue
to wait for
it to come,
instead of hunting
for another vulnerable
and lonesome lady,
and to continue waiting
for her to come to me.
4.6.12 (water)
three
and i feel
tears fill my eyes.
no explanation,
maybe what has came,
maybe what is current,
maybe what is to come,
but it exhausts me,
and i will wake up
tomorrow,
with little recollection,
but still feel
hollow
in some sense,
because i will know
i have shed some
weight,
only to gain it back,
in days passing.
and i feel
tears fill my eyes.
no explanation,
maybe what has came,
maybe what is current,
maybe what is to come,
but it exhausts me,
and i will wake up
tomorrow,
with little recollection,
but still feel
hollow
in some sense,
because i will know
i have shed some
weight,
only to gain it back,
in days passing.
4.6.12 (hope)
one hundred years
of broken hearts
and one hundred years
of lost dreams.
one hundred years
of sad faces
and one hundred years
of misplaced hopes.
one hundred years
of expectations
and one hundred years
of disappointment.
after one hundred years
of so many feelings,
still, i say,
hang your noose
and i will cut it down.
of broken hearts
and one hundred years
of lost dreams.
one hundred years
of sad faces
and one hundred years
of misplaced hopes.
one hundred years
of expectations
and one hundred years
of disappointment.
after one hundred years
of so many feelings,
still, i say,
hang your noose
and i will cut it down.
4.6.12 (cheers)
drinks,
and that
sleeplessness;
well shit,
i feel like
some sort of
origami superman:
crumbling with
each movement.
my bones creak
and crack,
and my joints
ache,
and more drinks
mean
more hangovers
but more nights
that i can actually
sleep.
kind of.
i guess.
maybe?
and then,
i get to
go work,
so that i can
repeat this process
one hundred times over
until i can take no more
or keel over
and die?
and that
sleeplessness;
well shit,
i feel like
some sort of
origami superman:
crumbling with
each movement.
my bones creak
and crack,
and my joints
ache,
and more drinks
mean
more hangovers
but more nights
that i can actually
sleep.
kind of.
i guess.
maybe?
and then,
i get to
go work,
so that i can
repeat this process
one hundred times over
until i can take no more
or keel over
and die?
4.5.12 (friends)
where is one
to find a
friend
in this world?
i have been
a bad friend
to many,
and a good one
to few.
if the same
is true
for all,
what hope
does that leave us?
with issues of
trust
and
desire,
directing our will,
we travel forth,
righting,
wronging,
searching for more
friends.
to find a
friend
in this world?
i have been
a bad friend
to many,
and a good one
to few.
if the same
is true
for all,
what hope
does that leave us?
with issues of
trust
and
desire,
directing our will,
we travel forth,
righting,
wronging,
searching for more
friends.
4.5.12 (inside)
i've been
trying.
trying to learn
to talk.
it's hard,
trying to express
that which
i have worked
so hard
to suppress
all my life,
but alas
it grows,
and it must
come out
eventually.
trying.
trying to learn
to talk.
it's hard,
trying to express
that which
i have worked
so hard
to suppress
all my life,
but alas
it grows,
and it must
come out
eventually.
4.5.12 (caffeine)
i feel
my pen
shake
as i
write
and my eye
quiver.
i feel
the hollow core
of my chest
while my mind
races.
losing sleep,
and drinking coffee
to compensate;
i hope
this isn't
as apparent
as it feels.
my pen
shake
as i
write
and my eye
quiver.
i feel
the hollow core
of my chest
while my mind
races.
losing sleep,
and drinking coffee
to compensate;
i hope
this isn't
as apparent
as it feels.
4.5.12 (escape route)
miles
of pavement,
mountains,
green.
I look
for an
escape
from the
dirge.
i will
use this
emergency route
to try and get
my feet
back on
level ground.
of pavement,
mountains,
green.
I look
for an
escape
from the
dirge.
i will
use this
emergency route
to try and get
my feet
back on
level ground.
4.5.12 (part of something bigger eventually)
Thursday morning. Another night of little sleep and I'm on the bus again. I feel my eyes quiver and twitch out of exasperation; feeling this way is getting old. The sky is mostly grey, with a few patches of blue, trying to claw their way in, and a faint sun, glinting through those bleak clouds–appropriate weather. "It's April already," I think, recounting the past few months. I let out a long sigh, "Years fly by, and I can scarcely recall them..."
It always seems as if the majority of one's time is eclipsed by one or two events. This year is no different. A calm january night, for four turbulent, drunken months. I've grown used to it though, and have gotten eager to return to my ways on the road. "My birthday is nearing; a little over a month and I'll be another year older." I've been thinking of saying, "Congratulations! You've made it through another year!" instead of "happy birthday," but it seems a bit morose. I'm trying to imply a celebration of the current, instead of years passed, but I could probably word it better.
I've been thinking of my plans of the future. I always seem to be. A one-way ticket out of country sounds like a livable dream. These times we live in: stale, no romanticism. Perhaps I'm just looking in the wrong places, but the lack of has left me almost criminally uninspired. I hope to change that soon...
4.4.12 (home)
the truth
in just being
is proof that i am real
but i cannot say
the same is so
for the things that i do feel.
meanwhile the cogs
and gears of time still turn
and my life do they steal.
all the while i am
trying to find
some place while i do roam
the place where i
feel i can die
a place solid as stone
it is the place where i
will settle down
the place i will call home.
but in this heart
among the blood and veins
many memories do i keep.
some bright as day,
some black as night,
some that cause this heart to weep.
but when i find my home,
i'm sure of it now,
i will bury them on that street.
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