Music plays all around me
I am caught up
I am inside the rhythms you call sex
Tell me how it means nothing
and then something
depending on the atmosphere
and the company-
I'm holding onto you as you fall out of sight
searching somewhere deeper into me
looking for the seed of what makes me what i am
searching for something you can grab a hold of and keep for your own-
Jaded by the world
You search in warm spaces reserved for lovers
For what you'll become-
Listening to the rhythm of the breathing searching for your own rhythm
Making what you see
and taking what you get
back to the place reserved for no one but you-
don't be afraid to cry about the idea of what you're looking for-
I fall asleep and you stay awake
to study-
study what you're about
inside the flesh and bone
that comprises the sea
that is so stormy-
so stormy.
I wake to find your eyes
never closed
Still consumed with what is on your skin
my smells
our sounds
your touch
Looking for the spark that settles my confusion
Do you ask
or just assume
of me
On me
you hold what i give
withholding the contact that will make us equal
give me something to understand
shake my hand and give back what you hold-
then again the source is never as pure as the original
that 's what you say-
somehow thinking i can decipher the words inside the words
i only know that it isn't as difficult as the times before-
Perhaps it's getting easier with age
you just know things come so that they can go-
A sort of misled cycle of life...
I'm telling you, brown girl
All i know is that parts of me have never left
and those are the parts that i hold on to-
My face-
and my hands
Well, they've changed through the weathering life
and my heart-
well
it has gotten stronger despite the forces that try to make it weaker
and my spirit-
well it has only grown bigger to fit all the beauty that i've witnessed
while my rhythm ever-changing is getting louder
my comprehension of the broken rhythm
has only become more proficient in hearing the in-between
as i reflect on all the moments that shape me-
so looking in on this current purge-
i don't mind that it's taking the time of it's own to complete
because i'm learning more about the place inside me that only i belong
and that is something i will never have to eliminate...
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Morgan street mourning...
i'm trying to move from this
i'm trying to take a step ahead
but my mind reverts back to it again and again-
i breathe deep and exhale
the sound of a million cigarettes rattling in my chest-
finding that the heat has left my cunt and moved into my face
i'm telling myself it's good to purge
empty out the vats that are full of her-
one by one
i empty the memory that is stored so carefully
placed so delicately
yet severed so abruptly-
i ought to have practice at this
as women have been leaving me since the day i was born
or is it that i have left them?
one way or another i ought to be more practiced at this
at first it was fear-
then it moved to sadness
then to pity-
and i don't say the later lightly-
no one wants to be pitied
no matter how lost or sad they are-
so there's me with all of this
for her
and all the hers before her-
i wake each day wondering if this will be the end of these emotions
i still circulate for her-
herstory tells me that i'm over it with little fixation
but i'd rather reason with these emotions than have them haunt me into the next one
i"ve forgotten what my direction was in my purging
is it coming up or going deeper inside?
some say healing is a process
or a destination
i'd say it's a little of both depending on which way you look for out
my out comes with words
hers and hers before was with absence-
i wonder when i'll succumb to the repetition i've witnessed again and again
isn't that what repetition is?
either learning a lesson really well so that you do it
or so that you don't?
I can't guage where i am in the process of letting go-
So tell me how you are
Standing there
beside me
above me
beneath me
i tell you that is my favorite position-
all of the above
i tell you more about me than you tell me about you
besides the pharmaceutical diagnosis-
who do you sleep with?
What does she want?
what does she dream about when she dares to close her eyes;
the ones that create the monsters
outside the mind that conjures up worse enemies-
sooner than i rise
you tell me you must go
you felt the urge to go somewhere deeper to dream about the wrongs
that your mother has done-
it's a slow day when the woman stays
she's more confused about herself than when she's off in deep thought-
i couldn't tell you what i've done
for there is no response to the needs that drive her-
I lay there wondering if leaving this space is the right thing to do at this moment-
the cigarette smoke is a reminder that the clouds about her head are here to stay-
the sooner i leave the sooner she goes back to her hands
looking for the stars that remind her
that she is part of something bigger
something beautiful
somewhere that she started from long ago-
trying to escape the memory that her star wasn't as bright as the others
she holds that fault in her heart
blaming no one else but the seed that she derives from
that she should have been born a brighter star
without the shadow of the constellations that surround her-
she takes my hand in hers
that are full of me
and my place
and she tells me
it's not going to work
this..
her..
and me..
she steadies her other hand around the small circle that will one day claim her again
to be damned by the dis-ease
again and again...
i'm trying to take a step ahead
but my mind reverts back to it again and again-
i breathe deep and exhale
the sound of a million cigarettes rattling in my chest-
finding that the heat has left my cunt and moved into my face
i'm telling myself it's good to purge
empty out the vats that are full of her-
one by one
i empty the memory that is stored so carefully
placed so delicately
yet severed so abruptly-
i ought to have practice at this
as women have been leaving me since the day i was born
or is it that i have left them?
one way or another i ought to be more practiced at this
at first it was fear-
then it moved to sadness
then to pity-
and i don't say the later lightly-
no one wants to be pitied
no matter how lost or sad they are-
so there's me with all of this
for her
and all the hers before her-
i wake each day wondering if this will be the end of these emotions
i still circulate for her-
herstory tells me that i'm over it with little fixation
but i'd rather reason with these emotions than have them haunt me into the next one
i"ve forgotten what my direction was in my purging
is it coming up or going deeper inside?
some say healing is a process
or a destination
i'd say it's a little of both depending on which way you look for out
my out comes with words
hers and hers before was with absence-
i wonder when i'll succumb to the repetition i've witnessed again and again
isn't that what repetition is?
either learning a lesson really well so that you do it
or so that you don't?
I can't guage where i am in the process of letting go-
So tell me how you are
Standing there
beside me
above me
beneath me
i tell you that is my favorite position-
all of the above
i tell you more about me than you tell me about you
besides the pharmaceutical diagnosis-
who do you sleep with?
What does she want?
what does she dream about when she dares to close her eyes;
the ones that create the monsters
outside the mind that conjures up worse enemies-
sooner than i rise
you tell me you must go
you felt the urge to go somewhere deeper to dream about the wrongs
that your mother has done-
it's a slow day when the woman stays
she's more confused about herself than when she's off in deep thought-
i couldn't tell you what i've done
for there is no response to the needs that drive her-
I lay there wondering if leaving this space is the right thing to do at this moment-
the cigarette smoke is a reminder that the clouds about her head are here to stay-
the sooner i leave the sooner she goes back to her hands
looking for the stars that remind her
that she is part of something bigger
something beautiful
somewhere that she started from long ago-
trying to escape the memory that her star wasn't as bright as the others
she holds that fault in her heart
blaming no one else but the seed that she derives from
that she should have been born a brighter star
without the shadow of the constellations that surround her-
she takes my hand in hers
that are full of me
and my place
and she tells me
it's not going to work
this..
her..
and me..
she steadies her other hand around the small circle that will one day claim her again
to be damned by the dis-ease
again and again...
The window I climbed through...
I'm meeting you today for the first time in weeks to talk
talk about what?
talk about what happened-
what will happen-
and what can't happen
Earlier I was cleaning and this moth thats been inside for days- that i tried to save
that kept flying away
Finally lay dead on the floor-
I thought to myself
Like a moth to the flame-
Like this moth to the slowest of deaths-
I picked it up and threw it away and thought
Only if..
Only if it would have let me wrap it up in my hands and carry it outside
I wouldn't be here now throwing it away in the uncivilized garbage can that sits by the most unnatural environment for it to sleep in
But it was and
it did
And i had no control
other than to let it be
just the way it needed to be-
With that end i thought
about another end
that soon will be
between us-
The time away has made me realize that i can't drive you away from yourself
I can't drive the voices out of your head and replace it with mine
soft and slow-
I can keep the razors that slice the mind that you call skin
but that doesn't stop you from getting more
and more-
I can't keep you high on me
and on top of me
to make you feel all right
and i can't take away the shape of your eyes
so that you stop being persecuted
by the ghosts and the parents who left you
again and again-
I can't take away the drug that keeps things hazy for you
more complete, less painful..
No, I can't take away the addictions that you have
for love-
I thought I could be all these things for you
To you
But now i know that i can't-
and now i know that it's gonna take something bigger
something you can only find within the walls of your darkest moments-
There on the sharp edge of the metal you put to your skin
There on the end of the cigarette you smoke
There on the tip of your tongue
and on the tip of your pen
There on the tip of your breast
and your clit
There in your eyes that see the world in their own way
There inside the voice in your head
There inside the high you've taken from yourself
There inside the drink that makes you sick time and time again
There inside the voice of the woman coming from your speakers
There inside your fear-
That's where you will find the answers
Completely with or without me-
Just do this for me
Don't hate yourself for this
Don't inflict on yourself what the world already inflicts on you
Give into the voice that's still gentle inside of you-
My war on these lands ends with a truce
I have nothing to give that hasn't already been shown
My ammunition only works on Colombian soil
Your Korean soil needs something more like seeds than ammunition-
I won't forget what it is about you that draws me in
and i won't let you run from me with all my emotions on your back
I will carry myself safely to the shores of my knowing
and wait for you to come to the senses that you've inherently got-
growing comfortable inside your skin
Something I had to do in the darkness without the light of a lovers' watchful eye
But with her smell and the shadow beside me just the same-
I have to keep on moving on
But i'm not very far from your side
We will walk parallel from each other
Breathing separate air
yet forever tied to this adopted life...
talk about what?
talk about what happened-
what will happen-
and what can't happen
Earlier I was cleaning and this moth thats been inside for days- that i tried to save
that kept flying away
Finally lay dead on the floor-
I thought to myself
Like a moth to the flame-
Like this moth to the slowest of deaths-
I picked it up and threw it away and thought
Only if..
Only if it would have let me wrap it up in my hands and carry it outside
I wouldn't be here now throwing it away in the uncivilized garbage can that sits by the most unnatural environment for it to sleep in
But it was and
it did
And i had no control
other than to let it be
just the way it needed to be-
With that end i thought
about another end
that soon will be
between us-
The time away has made me realize that i can't drive you away from yourself
I can't drive the voices out of your head and replace it with mine
soft and slow-
I can keep the razors that slice the mind that you call skin
but that doesn't stop you from getting more
and more-
I can't keep you high on me
and on top of me
to make you feel all right
and i can't take away the shape of your eyes
so that you stop being persecuted
by the ghosts and the parents who left you
again and again-
I can't take away the drug that keeps things hazy for you
more complete, less painful..
No, I can't take away the addictions that you have
for love-
I thought I could be all these things for you
To you
But now i know that i can't-
and now i know that it's gonna take something bigger
something you can only find within the walls of your darkest moments-
There on the sharp edge of the metal you put to your skin
There on the end of the cigarette you smoke
There on the tip of your tongue
and on the tip of your pen
There on the tip of your breast
and your clit
There in your eyes that see the world in their own way
There inside the voice in your head
There inside the high you've taken from yourself
There inside the drink that makes you sick time and time again
There inside the voice of the woman coming from your speakers
There inside your fear-
That's where you will find the answers
Completely with or without me-
Just do this for me
Don't hate yourself for this
Don't inflict on yourself what the world already inflicts on you
Give into the voice that's still gentle inside of you-
My war on these lands ends with a truce
I have nothing to give that hasn't already been shown
My ammunition only works on Colombian soil
Your Korean soil needs something more like seeds than ammunition-
I won't forget what it is about you that draws me in
and i won't let you run from me with all my emotions on your back
I will carry myself safely to the shores of my knowing
and wait for you to come to the senses that you've inherently got-
growing comfortable inside your skin
Something I had to do in the darkness without the light of a lovers' watchful eye
But with her smell and the shadow beside me just the same-
I have to keep on moving on
But i'm not very far from your side
We will walk parallel from each other
Breathing separate air
yet forever tied to this adopted life...
Women's Rhythm
Walking home i went down the stairs to the field that leads to my house
when i was reminded of you laughing when we got together that one day in the park
You told us there were 69 stairs-
we laughed at you
and said that can't be right
Why would they have stopped at 69 and not 70?
You said
"I'm telling the truth"
when we got done drumming our souls out
purging some small bit of music we had left in us from the week before-
we climbed the stairs with our drums on our heads laughing about how crazy you were
and how all it took was one beer to get you goin'
but Norma and I knew it had nothing to with the beer
you were just crazy, that's all-
we counted the stairs and surely there were exactly 69 steps up to the lovers that waited
for us at home-
Those were some of the best times-
you, me and Norma in the park
playing together
playing alone
playing something out of tune with the noise someone else was beating out-
Today i walked down those stairs-
it's been a while since we all got together to play-
Like clockwork I counted every step as I descended-
69 steps there was
leading me to the love that was waiting for me at home-
Even though i was on my own- it felt ok
When i got close to the bottom there was 20 or so crickets flying about my feet-
it reminded me of the rhythms that once filled my ears in this space-
I smiled as I was counting-
thinking to myself
How much I miss your laugh...
when i was reminded of you laughing when we got together that one day in the park
You told us there were 69 stairs-
we laughed at you
and said that can't be right
Why would they have stopped at 69 and not 70?
You said
"I'm telling the truth"
when we got done drumming our souls out
purging some small bit of music we had left in us from the week before-
we climbed the stairs with our drums on our heads laughing about how crazy you were
and how all it took was one beer to get you goin'
but Norma and I knew it had nothing to with the beer
you were just crazy, that's all-
we counted the stairs and surely there were exactly 69 steps up to the lovers that waited
for us at home-
Those were some of the best times-
you, me and Norma in the park
playing together
playing alone
playing something out of tune with the noise someone else was beating out-
Today i walked down those stairs-
it's been a while since we all got together to play-
Like clockwork I counted every step as I descended-
69 steps there was
leading me to the love that was waiting for me at home-
Even though i was on my own- it felt ok
When i got close to the bottom there was 20 or so crickets flying about my feet-
it reminded me of the rhythms that once filled my ears in this space-
I smiled as I was counting-
thinking to myself
How much I miss your laugh...
Sunday, January 25, 2009
My religion...
I listen as if I'm waiting to hear him say something important-
I wait
but he rarely says anything that's worth remembering or even really worth listening to-
How do I tell her not to listen to me
The way I listen to him...
I wait
but he rarely says anything that's worth remembering or even really worth listening to-
How do I tell her not to listen to me
The way I listen to him...
Lesbian Pulp Fiction...
Sweet and bitter
Something she says she said-
Where do we got to get away from the fabricated chaos that is filling the air ways of our lives?
If this is the reality of you and me and them and theirs
Then what's going on with me here
Does it just happen when you're fucking a woman?
Tell me it's not so-
I'd like to believe that I'm evolving into a lovely, mature, thought consumed woman with a mind of good intent
Not some psycho babbling nut case with a vengeance wanting nothing more than to skew the minds of clueless girls who don't know what it's like to live the life of a gifted bisexual-
Time and time again I look back on the girl's I've loved and I wonder
Jesus what has happened to the one I love?
She's tossing and turning,
dripping with the gossip of last night's screw
with the 3x12 dildo.
I swear the number of quality girls is at an all time low
I don't know if I ought to blame the "Dr. Phil's" or the mothering, fucking bossy pants bitches who claim they are every woman and don't have to read between the lines of all the self help books that fill their libraries at home-
When did the self-deceiving habits come to the surface and dictate the whole woman in the women's movement?
Was I washing my hair or did I get left out in the cold on the antics of how to be a sister to all of us conditionally?
I have looked and seen the misguided intentions of the prettiest girls who had the value of a washed up peso-
Back stabbing, cheating, misnomer starting queers.
I'm looking for my princess whose got the dress,
the attitude
and learned how to swim after the boat sank-
Not the one whose got one hand on her exe's back and the other on her mascara tube.
Lesbian fascination is brighter than a sunny day
But I wear a lot of protection in case the rain falls...
Something she says she said-
Where do we got to get away from the fabricated chaos that is filling the air ways of our lives?
If this is the reality of you and me and them and theirs
Then what's going on with me here
Does it just happen when you're fucking a woman?
Tell me it's not so-
I'd like to believe that I'm evolving into a lovely, mature, thought consumed woman with a mind of good intent
Not some psycho babbling nut case with a vengeance wanting nothing more than to skew the minds of clueless girls who don't know what it's like to live the life of a gifted bisexual-
Time and time again I look back on the girl's I've loved and I wonder
Jesus what has happened to the one I love?
She's tossing and turning,
dripping with the gossip of last night's screw
with the 3x12 dildo.
I swear the number of quality girls is at an all time low
I don't know if I ought to blame the "Dr. Phil's" or the mothering, fucking bossy pants bitches who claim they are every woman and don't have to read between the lines of all the self help books that fill their libraries at home-
When did the self-deceiving habits come to the surface and dictate the whole woman in the women's movement?
Was I washing my hair or did I get left out in the cold on the antics of how to be a sister to all of us conditionally?
I have looked and seen the misguided intentions of the prettiest girls who had the value of a washed up peso-
Back stabbing, cheating, misnomer starting queers.
I'm looking for my princess whose got the dress,
the attitude
and learned how to swim after the boat sank-
Not the one whose got one hand on her exe's back and the other on her mascara tube.
Lesbian fascination is brighter than a sunny day
But I wear a lot of protection in case the rain falls...
the days of luna...
the road kicks up dust from past loves'
it settles to the side of the road as i speed through to the open space
i see her body as lit by two aromatic candles
i connect the smells to her body
i connect her to the light
from her breast i look up into the eyes that reflect the love that shines from my own
she blinks
and i smile into the back of her closed eyes
i smile-
into the back of her eyes-
she's got her daddy's smile
and she's got her mama's sweet voice
she's got me to love her
and the world to ponder about
i'm on a lover's high
not a damn thing besides her in my head
i'm flying through the cloudy days that are all around me
and i'm smiling
smiling
because i've got an image of a brown girl in my wallet and
a heavy heart in my chest...
it settles to the side of the road as i speed through to the open space
i see her body as lit by two aromatic candles
i connect the smells to her body
i connect her to the light
from her breast i look up into the eyes that reflect the love that shines from my own
she blinks
and i smile into the back of her closed eyes
i smile-
into the back of her eyes-
she's got her daddy's smile
and she's got her mama's sweet voice
she's got me to love her
and the world to ponder about
i'm on a lover's high
not a damn thing besides her in my head
i'm flying through the cloudy days that are all around me
and i'm smiling
smiling
because i've got an image of a brown girl in my wallet and
a heavy heart in my chest...
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
A permanent resident called me...
So they are asking me to prove that i am me
Prove that i am a part of this gravy train-
This society that i never agreed to be a part of
other than in forced language
and consumption-
I am angered
and insulted
and pissed the hell off
that you don't recognize your own writing-
That you don't see your own claim to me
And my identity-
Look at the letters that spell ME, you coward, how do they represent who i was born to be?
How is it that i can spend 26 years fattening the pockets and making your ugly, white man
Richer by the moment
but you can act like you don't know me when you want to flex your imperialist, impotent muscle?
How is that?
It could have been a little easier had your delivery been more respectful
But one day you told me who i was going to be and how i was going to act
and then you mixed me up with someone whose only goal was to destroy your accomplishments-
White man, you've made me a stranger at my own door-
Wait, you say
Please come back for more tomorrow, our immigrant office is located on the back road that doesn't have lights or signs
And be sure to bring all the desire of materialistic consumption with you-
Do you have any friends we could talk to?
We're sure there's something we could sell their innocent, ignorant senses. If not, then we are still looking for a house maid- maybe we could work something out...
Yes, your appointment is at 2pm and you'll have to prove to us just who you are-
Are you the person that matches the name on our list?
if so,
where are your papers that prove you were invited to this party?
Did you know that the Indians were friends with the Pilgrims?
Oh, I'm sorry, we're going to have to with hold what we promised you until you match up to the stereotype we've cleverly assigned you; Dick, Donald and Carl
Oh, stop thinking this is some sort of interrogation-
it is nothing short of that
We just need you to show us how American you are- you aren't a part of any groups we should be aware of, are you?
You've lost your language and your inherent ability to count coca leaves- what do you think of the School of America's- isn't it brilliant?!
and you must not come from that place you call home if you don't subscribe to the subservient ideals of the women there
and you sure as hell don't count if you don't drink coffee,
My God, what would Juan say?!
So, what kind of new made American from Colombia are you Miss Tang-guy? or is that Tang-gee? My, that sure doesn't sound American...
White man..
You've taken my roots and colored them red, white and blue
You've taken my colorful tongue and fed it spam
You've taken my vision of me and skewed it around your agenda of terrorists
and now-
Now you ask me to prove that I match the name and the taste in your mouth
and you deny me anything that borders on common decency-
What the FUCK is that?
Darling, you say-
That is America...
9.3.02
Prove that i am a part of this gravy train-
This society that i never agreed to be a part of
other than in forced language
and consumption-
I am angered
and insulted
and pissed the hell off
that you don't recognize your own writing-
That you don't see your own claim to me
And my identity-
Look at the letters that spell ME, you coward, how do they represent who i was born to be?
How is it that i can spend 26 years fattening the pockets and making your ugly, white man
Richer by the moment
but you can act like you don't know me when you want to flex your imperialist, impotent muscle?
How is that?
It could have been a little easier had your delivery been more respectful
But one day you told me who i was going to be and how i was going to act
and then you mixed me up with someone whose only goal was to destroy your accomplishments-
White man, you've made me a stranger at my own door-
Wait, you say
Please come back for more tomorrow, our immigrant office is located on the back road that doesn't have lights or signs
And be sure to bring all the desire of materialistic consumption with you-
Do you have any friends we could talk to?
We're sure there's something we could sell their innocent, ignorant senses. If not, then we are still looking for a house maid- maybe we could work something out...
Yes, your appointment is at 2pm and you'll have to prove to us just who you are-
Are you the person that matches the name on our list?
if so,
where are your papers that prove you were invited to this party?
Did you know that the Indians were friends with the Pilgrims?
Oh, I'm sorry, we're going to have to with hold what we promised you until you match up to the stereotype we've cleverly assigned you; Dick, Donald and Carl
Oh, stop thinking this is some sort of interrogation-
it is nothing short of that
We just need you to show us how American you are- you aren't a part of any groups we should be aware of, are you?
You've lost your language and your inherent ability to count coca leaves- what do you think of the School of America's- isn't it brilliant?!
and you must not come from that place you call home if you don't subscribe to the subservient ideals of the women there
and you sure as hell don't count if you don't drink coffee,
My God, what would Juan say?!
So, what kind of new made American from Colombia are you Miss Tang-guy? or is that Tang-gee? My, that sure doesn't sound American...
White man..
You've taken my roots and colored them red, white and blue
You've taken my colorful tongue and fed it spam
You've taken my vision of me and skewed it around your agenda of terrorists
and now-
Now you ask me to prove that I match the name and the taste in your mouth
and you deny me anything that borders on common decency-
What the FUCK is that?
Darling, you say-
That is America...
9.3.02
Lines...
so there's a man sitting outside and i'm looking at him through the glass that separates us-
and i see him talking-
telling someone his whole story about how he's been looking for himself
and i block the sun with my hand and i realize
there's no one standing there-
he's alone-
and pouring himself all over the ground
i wondered where the line was drawn where he stopped caring if someone was there to listen
and i wondered how thin is that line between knowing you're in or out of touch with that caring...
and i see him talking-
telling someone his whole story about how he's been looking for himself
and i block the sun with my hand and i realize
there's no one standing there-
he's alone-
and pouring himself all over the ground
i wondered where the line was drawn where he stopped caring if someone was there to listen
and i wondered how thin is that line between knowing you're in or out of touch with that caring...
One Liners...
#1
That scar-
right where they cut me
to take out my only connection to you-
I know there's some light that didn't make its way out
Like it should have...
#2
It's a long way down
But you come face to face with the dirt
whether your head or ass hits first...
#3
I'd be a different person with a choice
and not a result...
#4
It's more residual anger that gets compared to the silence that I prefer...
#5
sometimes fools follow their heart amongst the ridicule...
That scar-
right where they cut me
to take out my only connection to you-
I know there's some light that didn't make its way out
Like it should have...
#2
It's a long way down
But you come face to face with the dirt
whether your head or ass hits first...
#3
I'd be a different person with a choice
and not a result...
#4
It's more residual anger that gets compared to the silence that I prefer...
#5
sometimes fools follow their heart amongst the ridicule...
Monday, January 19, 2009
Pack up all the things you don't deserve...
sometimes i speak when i should be silent
the more noise i find in my head
the more spills from my mouth
am i crazy
for feeling like i do-
or is the time making my life what it is-
the world is talking too fast to me
i can't keep up long enough to hear my reaction-
if i knew better i'd step out the line of her fire
to the wayside
and if i knew better i wouldn't let the words feel like this
turning on me
turning off me
making me look down
so far
too far
inside
there are no walls to keep me inside but i'm not seeing the light
it stops just before shining on me
someone's voice is
saying
"look at yourself, child"
i'm thinking i'm spinning
i can't make sense of the off white that surrounds my shade of brown
i can't hear through the retching of my insides
it's dragging me further
to a world of tar surroundings and ash buildings
the images in my head are melting the emotions on the brink of my quivering lips
i am heavy on my knees
falling too deep
waiting for reasoning to find itself at the door of your conscience
making you step back
making you fade away...
the more noise i find in my head
the more spills from my mouth
am i crazy
for feeling like i do-
or is the time making my life what it is-
the world is talking too fast to me
i can't keep up long enough to hear my reaction-
if i knew better i'd step out the line of her fire
to the wayside
and if i knew better i wouldn't let the words feel like this
turning on me
turning off me
making me look down
so far
too far
inside
there are no walls to keep me inside but i'm not seeing the light
it stops just before shining on me
someone's voice is
saying
"look at yourself, child"
i'm thinking i'm spinning
i can't make sense of the off white that surrounds my shade of brown
i can't hear through the retching of my insides
it's dragging me further
to a world of tar surroundings and ash buildings
the images in my head are melting the emotions on the brink of my quivering lips
i am heavy on my knees
falling too deep
waiting for reasoning to find itself at the door of your conscience
making you step back
making you fade away...
Nico
a suicide romance
has found it's way inside my heart
a predestined end
has found it's way into our beginning-
I swore I would make sure someone was at home
before I took the ride there
it's not easy to find that she's in over my head
it's not easy to find that I'm in over her head
you are free
and then you'll be gone
I'm fixed on the end
it is lurking
it is oozing on my breath
it is spilling on the flowers I've grown for you-
I'm just out to find the better part of me
more than a waving goodbye
I want to be bigger than the inevitable
I'm too practiced at the ungraceful goodbye
I can't prepare myself for another one like this
there's something inside of me that refuses to act undisturbed
I dreamt that we made a promise to try to make it work
and woke up just before I told you-
I know I should be happy in your name
here on the border of love
it just seems old to me
taking the risk
making the compromises with my heart
that knows somewhere that it will lose again-
is that what it's all about?
tell me
is this what it's all about?
here in the carefully resurrected world of unavailability
I find my beginning again
it's been a long time coming-
the cycle repeats itself over and over
but baby there's something about you
that I can hold on to
that I want to hold on to
I'm just in time to see the sunshine in your eyes rise and set
I burn you into my memory
I turn off all the lights and wait for my love to come out of hiding
Baby, there's something about you that I can hold onto for a long time
I'm gonna hold onto this
I coax the easiness out of my smile and sing for a little while to you-
morning comes and I remind myself that there's something waiting for me
outside myself-
I walk towards the inevitable
with arms open
and closing around you
I'm not ready for this sort of thing I hear a voice whispering in the back of my head
but I would give anything
not to be out of love
for you-
I am out of touch again
but I've got your smile-
I'm out of myself again
but I've got your eyes-
I'm out of whack again
but I've got your sweet kiss-
I'm out in love again
and I've got your name-
I'm out of love again
but I've got your love
I'm out of my head again
because you've got my love-
but I'm all right
I'm all right-
I've never felt this way before
but I'm all right
feel all right-
cause I'm giving in to it
I'm feeling fine
feeling fine-
cause I'm gonna win this time-
and it's a long time coming...
has found it's way inside my heart
a predestined end
has found it's way into our beginning-
I swore I would make sure someone was at home
before I took the ride there
it's not easy to find that she's in over my head
it's not easy to find that I'm in over her head
you are free
and then you'll be gone
I'm fixed on the end
it is lurking
it is oozing on my breath
it is spilling on the flowers I've grown for you-
I'm just out to find the better part of me
more than a waving goodbye
I want to be bigger than the inevitable
I'm too practiced at the ungraceful goodbye
I can't prepare myself for another one like this
there's something inside of me that refuses to act undisturbed
I dreamt that we made a promise to try to make it work
and woke up just before I told you-
I know I should be happy in your name
here on the border of love
it just seems old to me
taking the risk
making the compromises with my heart
that knows somewhere that it will lose again-
is that what it's all about?
tell me
is this what it's all about?
here in the carefully resurrected world of unavailability
I find my beginning again
it's been a long time coming-
the cycle repeats itself over and over
but baby there's something about you
that I can hold on to
that I want to hold on to
I'm just in time to see the sunshine in your eyes rise and set
I burn you into my memory
I turn off all the lights and wait for my love to come out of hiding
Baby, there's something about you that I can hold onto for a long time
I'm gonna hold onto this
I coax the easiness out of my smile and sing for a little while to you-
morning comes and I remind myself that there's something waiting for me
outside myself-
I walk towards the inevitable
with arms open
and closing around you
I'm not ready for this sort of thing I hear a voice whispering in the back of my head
but I would give anything
not to be out of love
for you-
I am out of touch again
but I've got your smile-
I'm out of myself again
but I've got your eyes-
I'm out of whack again
but I've got your sweet kiss-
I'm out in love again
and I've got your name-
I'm out of love again
but I've got your love
I'm out of my head again
because you've got my love-
but I'm all right
I'm all right-
I've never felt this way before
but I'm all right
feel all right-
cause I'm giving in to it
I'm feeling fine
feeling fine-
cause I'm gonna win this time-
and it's a long time coming...
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Martyr for love...
I turn off my phone, giving up on your call tonight
You are spent- hurting from what women have done and may do to you
I told you what I was feeling. The ugly truth that we were on the cutting board.
I want more, I want less.
I feel for her, I feel for you.
I miss parts of my past; I approach our future with questions.
I pray I didn’t say anything about the perceived lack of depth I’ve been witness to.
There is something missing
What it is- I don’t know
I asked you for answers and you gave me your tolerant hand and got me to bed.
You paid for most of the night and were responsible despite my best effort to get you to do otherwise.
You danced,
we kissed,
we tilted our heads back in laughter
and then listened as I broke what we have built up down
in a fit of questions and speculations-
So tonight my love is riding shotgun on thunder and she’s got nothing to say to the world
Welcome to my heart lover…
You are spent- hurting from what women have done and may do to you
I told you what I was feeling. The ugly truth that we were on the cutting board.
I want more, I want less.
I feel for her, I feel for you.
I miss parts of my past; I approach our future with questions.
I pray I didn’t say anything about the perceived lack of depth I’ve been witness to.
There is something missing
What it is- I don’t know
I asked you for answers and you gave me your tolerant hand and got me to bed.
You paid for most of the night and were responsible despite my best effort to get you to do otherwise.
You danced,
we kissed,
we tilted our heads back in laughter
and then listened as I broke what we have built up down
in a fit of questions and speculations-
So tonight my love is riding shotgun on thunder and she’s got nothing to say to the world
Welcome to my heart lover…
blue clustering
1.29.07
In an attempt to be full on the blue eyes of Rachel
I am a leaf floating on the water of an exotic island,
it's rocking motion gently caressing my back
Eyes looking skyward to the innocent mural of the clouds above-
contrasting the brown of my skin
I'm stuck
in my mood as if held down by the weight of the ancient bonneville
which holds the note on my refrigerator-
A dog
A baby boy
Monty's blue plate
all selflessly reminding me that I could be in love...
In an attempt to be full on the blue eyes of Rachel
I am a leaf floating on the water of an exotic island,
it's rocking motion gently caressing my back
Eyes looking skyward to the innocent mural of the clouds above-
contrasting the brown of my skin
I'm stuck
in my mood as if held down by the weight of the ancient bonneville
which holds the note on my refrigerator-
A dog
A baby boy
Monty's blue plate
all selflessly reminding me that I could be in love...
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
drunkeness
#1
buzzing- hot, horny and she’s gone-
for a few hours or a few days
we are here together though getting the lap dance from my girlfriend
in the dress.
We laugh we dance we smoke up and we drink
We lean sideways when we mean to smile-
We tell everyone to lay their hands on us when we meant to make nice
There is this rush about being young and beginning to see the high end of things
#2
I ask-how could you think of another when this is the woman who loves you most
I hear- “well the women are where I go when I’m lonely”
The other side of the white fence never seemed so high before
#3
A lover’s tongue
She would answer the door and smile sheepishly
she would sit to the left- me on the right
and she would pop a minty candy into her mouth
And lean in to make dreams in my head.
#4
my ass tight- like something’s gonna explode out-
all over your conscience
#5
I fall back onto the writing about you
Much like I walk by your house night after night
Talking to my god
buzzing- hot, horny and she’s gone-
for a few hours or a few days
we are here together though getting the lap dance from my girlfriend
in the dress.
We laugh we dance we smoke up and we drink
We lean sideways when we mean to smile-
We tell everyone to lay their hands on us when we meant to make nice
There is this rush about being young and beginning to see the high end of things
#2
I ask-how could you think of another when this is the woman who loves you most
I hear- “well the women are where I go when I’m lonely”
The other side of the white fence never seemed so high before
#3
A lover’s tongue
She would answer the door and smile sheepishly
she would sit to the left- me on the right
and she would pop a minty candy into her mouth
And lean in to make dreams in my head.
#4
my ass tight- like something’s gonna explode out-
all over your conscience
#5
I fall back onto the writing about you
Much like I walk by your house night after night
Talking to my god
Empty Statistics
Number of clinically depressed people in my family: 5. Number of bottles of red wine I’ve consumed: 143. Number of
kidney’s I have: 1. Age that I flushed my first fish down the toilet: 12. Days it took me to get over it: 197. Number of therapists I’ve had; 3. Number of times I’ve hit 100 mph in a car: 2. Number of shots consumed: 67. Number of dogs I’ve had: 2. Number of tattoos I have: 3. Number of times I’ve flown in an airplane: 24. Number of mother’s I have: 2. Number of speeding tickets I’ve gotten: 8. Number of times my father has been married: 3. Number of books I’ve read: 478. Number of arguments I’ve had: 891. Number of times I was right: 739. Number of times I’ve used a port-a- toilet: 28. Number of boyfriends I’ve had: 3. Number of cigarettes I’ve smoked: 175. Number of toilet seat covers I’ve purchased: 7. Number of times I’ve used illegal drugs: 18. Number of times I’ve eaten at a restaurant: 573. Number of girlfriends I’ve had: 6. Number of times I’ve shoplifted: 12. Number of televisions I’ve owned: 4. Number of movie stars I’ve seen in person: 1. Number of hotels I’ve slept in: 19. Number of boxes of Cheerios that I’ve eaten: 27. Number of times I’ve thought of quitting my current job: 687. Number of motorcycles I’ve owned: 3. Amount of sodium I’ve ingested: 124,837 mgs. Number of surgeries I’ve had: 1. Number of siblings I have: 2. Number of cats I’ve had: 6. Number of songs I’ve illegally downloaded: 573. Number of tattoo’s that have been covered up: 1. Number of times I’ve said I’m sorry: 774. Number of times I meant it: 592. Number of compliments I’ve received: 7,508. Number of compliments I’ve given: 7,314. Number of scars I have: 28. Number of poems I’ve written: 521. Number of times I’ve said, “I love you”: 3,492. Number of times I’ve aced someone playing tennis: 377. Number of cars I’ve had: 5. Number of times I’ve sworn: 46,241. Number of allowances I received as a kid: 48. Age that I lost my virginity: 18. Number of times I thought I was pregnant: 6. Number of times I’ve been pregnant: 0. Number of pairs of shoes I’ve owned: 84. Number of personal letters I’ve received: 32. Number of impure thoughts: 8,905. Number of dresses I own: 0. Number of alcoholics that share my last name: 7. Number of years that I held the truth in: 18. Number of times I’ve punched someone: 268. Age when most of this happened: 12. Number of hugs I’ve gotten: 3,352. Number of chances my partner has given me: 301. Number of seconds I can hold my breath: 94. Number of jokes I know: 4. Number of jobs I’ve had: 21. Number of phone numbers I’ve gotten: 34. Number of times I’ve called the number: 11. Number of times I’ve dined and ditched: 3. Number of times I lost my hearing aid in the school garden: 1. Number of times my identity has been stolen: 1. Number of times I’ve lost track of who I am: 14. Number of risks I’ve taken: 3,809. Number of times I’ve closed my eyes: 327,892,197. Number of times my eyes have been opened: 590. Number of hearts I’ve broken: 10. Number of times I’ve cursed at the driver in front of me: 376. Number of lives I’ve had: 243. Number of typos I’ve made writing this: 79. Number of gunshots I hear weekly: 8. Number of flowers I have smelled: 279. Number of kids that I’ve smiled at: 521. Number of times I’ve looked at a clock: 67,115. Number of times I played a joke on someone: 1,947. Number of times I’ve embarrassed myself: 418. Number of short stories I’ve written: 1. Number of ways I’ve thought how to end this: 2.
kidney’s I have: 1. Age that I flushed my first fish down the toilet: 12. Days it took me to get over it: 197. Number of therapists I’ve had; 3. Number of times I’ve hit 100 mph in a car: 2. Number of shots consumed: 67. Number of dogs I’ve had: 2. Number of tattoos I have: 3. Number of times I’ve flown in an airplane: 24. Number of mother’s I have: 2. Number of speeding tickets I’ve gotten: 8. Number of times my father has been married: 3. Number of books I’ve read: 478. Number of arguments I’ve had: 891. Number of times I was right: 739. Number of times I’ve used a port-a- toilet: 28. Number of boyfriends I’ve had: 3. Number of cigarettes I’ve smoked: 175. Number of toilet seat covers I’ve purchased: 7. Number of times I’ve used illegal drugs: 18. Number of times I’ve eaten at a restaurant: 573. Number of girlfriends I’ve had: 6. Number of times I’ve shoplifted: 12. Number of televisions I’ve owned: 4. Number of movie stars I’ve seen in person: 1. Number of hotels I’ve slept in: 19. Number of boxes of Cheerios that I’ve eaten: 27. Number of times I’ve thought of quitting my current job: 687. Number of motorcycles I’ve owned: 3. Amount of sodium I’ve ingested: 124,837 mgs. Number of surgeries I’ve had: 1. Number of siblings I have: 2. Number of cats I’ve had: 6. Number of songs I’ve illegally downloaded: 573. Number of tattoo’s that have been covered up: 1. Number of times I’ve said I’m sorry: 774. Number of times I meant it: 592. Number of compliments I’ve received: 7,508. Number of compliments I’ve given: 7,314. Number of scars I have: 28. Number of poems I’ve written: 521. Number of times I’ve said, “I love you”: 3,492. Number of times I’ve aced someone playing tennis: 377. Number of cars I’ve had: 5. Number of times I’ve sworn: 46,241. Number of allowances I received as a kid: 48. Age that I lost my virginity: 18. Number of times I thought I was pregnant: 6. Number of times I’ve been pregnant: 0. Number of pairs of shoes I’ve owned: 84. Number of personal letters I’ve received: 32. Number of impure thoughts: 8,905. Number of dresses I own: 0. Number of alcoholics that share my last name: 7. Number of years that I held the truth in: 18. Number of times I’ve punched someone: 268. Age when most of this happened: 12. Number of hugs I’ve gotten: 3,352. Number of chances my partner has given me: 301. Number of seconds I can hold my breath: 94. Number of jokes I know: 4. Number of jobs I’ve had: 21. Number of phone numbers I’ve gotten: 34. Number of times I’ve called the number: 11. Number of times I’ve dined and ditched: 3. Number of times I lost my hearing aid in the school garden: 1. Number of times my identity has been stolen: 1. Number of times I’ve lost track of who I am: 14. Number of risks I’ve taken: 3,809. Number of times I’ve closed my eyes: 327,892,197. Number of times my eyes have been opened: 590. Number of hearts I’ve broken: 10. Number of times I’ve cursed at the driver in front of me: 376. Number of lives I’ve had: 243. Number of typos I’ve made writing this: 79. Number of gunshots I hear weekly: 8. Number of flowers I have smelled: 279. Number of kids that I’ve smiled at: 521. Number of times I’ve looked at a clock: 67,115. Number of times I played a joke on someone: 1,947. Number of times I’ve embarrassed myself: 418. Number of short stories I’ve written: 1. Number of ways I’ve thought how to end this: 2.
Monday, January 12, 2009
some years passed...
filling in the empty spaces of consciousness
theses days of my life passing like the clouds in a somersault sky
I am searching
Again
For the meaning of my transgressions
Again for the meaning for my limitations
That clouds the imagery of my stilted sunset
What I once connected to and counted on
Are trivial mishaps that jaded my ever-folding heart
A hello turns to a goodbye in the matter of minutes
A short few hours reveal to me a closet of memories that start out green then turn to an unfortunate burgundy
My hurt right now comes from my history of mixed emotions that catapult me to a place where I am untouched
An untouchable heart turns cold and uninformed when in solitude.
My body follows my head around even when I’m clearly emotionally crippled.
And that is where I succumb to my fears –
Some days all the lights shine on me and other days
there is nothing
I’ve spent a considerable amount of time figuring where I’m headed-
Places that are happy I’m betting
Places that will challenge even my most solidified of judgments
I could use the shaking up
I could use the feelings that love bring
But for now I sit contemplating what mistakes I’ll refuse to repeat again-
Love is a four-letter word I’ve found
r-i-s-k
and in each of those letters lye a history of choice, challenge and resurrection.
I’m hoping for the latter at this point...
Searching I think
Is what it is
Validating something inside that wasn’t validated when I needed it to be
The right way
At the right time
Now I’m running to everyone who looks familiar somehow to let go of the abandonment that lives inside me
I’m giving that silenced love away
Because I no longer want it
What she gave me was all I that I needed
Only I didn’t recognize the significance of it till now
As I’m alone and cold-
Carefully crafted lines that are impenetrable keep all that is bad out-
Surely
But it also keeps the good out as well
Cuckold against the jugular of my being
Playing the victim to somehow regain some of the power that I lost
Taking back the only thing that was truly lost in me
Who will know this but everyone I’ve ever tried to love
And now
She has me figured out even if peripherally
I remind myself by revisiting the image captured of her looking at me-
I’m so brazenly missing this utterly beautiful look of love-
I see it now
And that counts for something
Even if the timing is too late
I realize now
How I’ve acted in faith, committed to this life that was introduced to me at 7
I am now ready to divorce the marriage of destruction that I’ve blindly been sacrificing true love for-
I am worth that much
Married to the wrong principle-
I find many better things to align my heart with...
theses days of my life passing like the clouds in a somersault sky
I am searching
Again
For the meaning of my transgressions
Again for the meaning for my limitations
That clouds the imagery of my stilted sunset
What I once connected to and counted on
Are trivial mishaps that jaded my ever-folding heart
A hello turns to a goodbye in the matter of minutes
A short few hours reveal to me a closet of memories that start out green then turn to an unfortunate burgundy
My hurt right now comes from my history of mixed emotions that catapult me to a place where I am untouched
An untouchable heart turns cold and uninformed when in solitude.
My body follows my head around even when I’m clearly emotionally crippled.
And that is where I succumb to my fears –
Some days all the lights shine on me and other days
there is nothing
I’ve spent a considerable amount of time figuring where I’m headed-
Places that are happy I’m betting
Places that will challenge even my most solidified of judgments
I could use the shaking up
I could use the feelings that love bring
But for now I sit contemplating what mistakes I’ll refuse to repeat again-
Love is a four-letter word I’ve found
r-i-s-k
and in each of those letters lye a history of choice, challenge and resurrection.
I’m hoping for the latter at this point...
Searching I think
Is what it is
Validating something inside that wasn’t validated when I needed it to be
The right way
At the right time
Now I’m running to everyone who looks familiar somehow to let go of the abandonment that lives inside me
I’m giving that silenced love away
Because I no longer want it
What she gave me was all I that I needed
Only I didn’t recognize the significance of it till now
As I’m alone and cold-
Carefully crafted lines that are impenetrable keep all that is bad out-
Surely
But it also keeps the good out as well
Cuckold against the jugular of my being
Playing the victim to somehow regain some of the power that I lost
Taking back the only thing that was truly lost in me
Who will know this but everyone I’ve ever tried to love
And now
She has me figured out even if peripherally
I remind myself by revisiting the image captured of her looking at me-
I’m so brazenly missing this utterly beautiful look of love-
I see it now
And that counts for something
Even if the timing is too late
I realize now
How I’ve acted in faith, committed to this life that was introduced to me at 7
I am now ready to divorce the marriage of destruction that I’ve blindly been sacrificing true love for-
I am worth that much
Married to the wrong principle-
I find many better things to align my heart with...
day one
Lessons learned by an impatient, mostly selfish, child like woman who thinks everything should be laughed at with an unapologetic silliness. … that is what these lines are…
What else am I to do- I’m living this life as loosely and as tightly as possible. I’ve learned love is not a thing to possess and control. It is made up of a water like substance that you can hold until it spills through your fingers, breathe until you choke, drink until you’re full, lye in until you can no longer float, navigate until your compass breaks or sinks. It is like loving someone who can’t be loved, hurting someone who can’t feel anymore, draining a reservoir that was never built to hold more than enough. It is all of these things and then some. Jealousy will get you nowhere I’ve learned. Of course I’m not perfect, and I think more than I should sometimes. I wonder where I missed the connection; I wonder where I misheard the intent. I wonder where I was when things were falling a part. Certainly not intact- and certainly not with her. So I’ve learned to love when I can, with what I’ve got- as much as I am capable- then when sometimes I can’t love right I wait for the teachable moment and l listen real hard and sit real quiet.
I’d like to think it’s all about learning who I am- finding myself in new places only to navigate and find more parts of my story. Sometimes I feel like I’m driving with a stranger in the car- wondering who’s gonna get in or who’s gonna stay out. Wondering who’s driving and where her next stop is and whether I’m gonna know when it’s time for me to jump out. I have faith that love is like riding shotgun with a stranger- it’s only a matter of time before what I don’t know and what I do know becomes a surmountable divide...
What else am I to do- I’m living this life as loosely and as tightly as possible. I’ve learned love is not a thing to possess and control. It is made up of a water like substance that you can hold until it spills through your fingers, breathe until you choke, drink until you’re full, lye in until you can no longer float, navigate until your compass breaks or sinks. It is like loving someone who can’t be loved, hurting someone who can’t feel anymore, draining a reservoir that was never built to hold more than enough. It is all of these things and then some. Jealousy will get you nowhere I’ve learned. Of course I’m not perfect, and I think more than I should sometimes. I wonder where I missed the connection; I wonder where I misheard the intent. I wonder where I was when things were falling a part. Certainly not intact- and certainly not with her. So I’ve learned to love when I can, with what I’ve got- as much as I am capable- then when sometimes I can’t love right I wait for the teachable moment and l listen real hard and sit real quiet.
I’d like to think it’s all about learning who I am- finding myself in new places only to navigate and find more parts of my story. Sometimes I feel like I’m driving with a stranger in the car- wondering who’s gonna get in or who’s gonna stay out. Wondering who’s driving and where her next stop is and whether I’m gonna know when it’s time for me to jump out. I have faith that love is like riding shotgun with a stranger- it’s only a matter of time before what I don’t know and what I do know becomes a surmountable divide...
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