Things You Can Only Percieve

The quiet, the unspoken.
The rationalizing emotion.
In the past I threw off track
    So many futures that there was hope in.
To confusion and new compulsion.
Friendships I found such comfort in.
I swaddled them within blankets.
Shredding seductive sheets we find the egress.
Sensual suffocations of innocence
    and then
    there was just
    the quiet, the unspoken.

The vague, the unknown.
The "what ifs" I was shown.
In life I made tracks and look back at how i've grown.
But no matter how far I go
    There's always a deeper snow.
The storm will come and fill my footfalls so...
Lost in a blistering, white glow
of the vague, the unknown.

The bright, the clear.
The images I see and sounds I hear.
A lake, a march.
A childs giggle,
    rat-a-tats in the air.
In every flash is a picture then...
    the moments no longer there.

But when i'm alone
    In the quiet...the unspoken.
In my mind - what is vague and unknown...
Is bright and clear...
In my heart.

In An Identical Moment

In An Identical Moment

I guess I wrote it like a spoken word.
How is something written as spoken?
I guess i'm a gullible, hopeless romantic.
I guess i'm...
Always falling
Or looking up for the phantom thing on the ceiling.
Or the 'something' on my shirt.
Chit! You got my chin!
Imagine...

Recognize the pretty faces.
Even passed in a moment.
Even if I can't have you...always have that moment.
Sometimes it's better not to stop and see it through.
I write so...maybe this little fantasies about who?

Being tentative to talk and ruin a perfectly good plot.
My mind caressing the thoughts,
whether reality would like it or not.

‘Pssts’ whispered.
Pistoled and hammered.
Something soft and something loud...
And reflectingly, something fertile and pretty.
Put where you were supposed to be placed.
Pleasantly paced.

Our footprints made but one impression on the ground.
In an identical moment.

SIRENS

Id rather have ninjas sneak up and kill me in a desolate, dark wilderness

Than these harmless, clunkering bodies milling around me constantly in this city.

Slamming their car doors...helicopter wings loudly breaking a stinking wind, dogs barking, cars passing by in a stolen night

That's just not mine.

More prone to gazing at a blazing, peach-amber street lamp than a full moon..

Bluish, spotted like the foot of a fine cigar not fully lit.

Double vision as I sit.

In a world with newly found, two illuminescent bodies I menage-a-trois with.

Trains screeching in the distance. Last stop before a train yard... Retiring.

I know the sound of tires violating the man hole covers.

The quick ins and outs of a one night stand.

Lingering slightly too long in a gear as u speed.

The bucking when u shift, excitement of nostalgia.

Two quick,  one long as I draw you in.

The North star above us as I close my eyes and you make my head spin.

A chill in the Autumn air that freezes my finger tips.

The tingle as your rush presses against my lips.

I contemplate a respite to cover myself from your bliss.

The speeding, cars and planes and trains that shatter the wind in such a seductive way,

Call to me to join their fray,

With urgency like sirens...

Let me be, spirited away.

Fatality Lies Between Fantasy & Reality

What metaphor or analogy can I disguise you within?


A fairy tale, Cinderella, watch you slide your foot in.

To the perfect slipper fit, let me think for a bit.

How you’re perfect and worth every papercut slit.



I can grasp at my temples and gnaw at my lips.

Squeeze my eyes shut to imagine a glimpse.

Take a deep breath to remember the sniff.

Your fragrance, the nape of your neck set adrift.



The thought of you, words on a page start a symphony.

Why could they not bring me to where you are? - Quite simply.

When that’s all I want - I can go no deeper.

For you to read and feel reverb, “Sweet music please greet her.”



“Plead her to dance and to sing for me softly.

I’ll dance tireless, all while humming her melody.

Prince Charming by no means, but please, transform me to be.

Or at least into the carriage that allowed her to flee.”

Antonym of Origin

LIFE is a choose your own ending novel ...look for one n read one. Play chess, play poker, THINK, Be completely broke and Pay attention !!!! Tell someone something u never told them! BE YOU! Don't be someone else!!!!!! Get a pet and realize that it can't talk but you can still COMMUNICATE! BOND!!! Get some kind of wasted n realize that there is NO TOXICITY that can change who you are and you will be INVINCIBLE! Realize that there is no such thing as DEATH!

FALL in LOVE when you're too young, fall in love when it's just bad TIMING, fall in love when it’s the right or the wrong person. I hope you fall in love when you realize or ACCEPT who you are …and who u are supposed to fall in love with…

I hope when you fall in love you realize that it’s your choice and not some magical OCCURENCE.

Accept every aspect of yourself…

Be an asshole n accept it.

Be a lover, a fighter, a complete wastse of time, a student, a teacher…accept it.

Be in therapy and on meds and accept that…and then…REJECT it…NOTHING can change you. DEAL WITH IT!

WONDER why someone can’t admit to you that they don’t need you…after you’ve already accepted the fact that they don’t need you. Then sit in SILENCE as they prove you right…

Stand up for someone and be their shield. Feel like you have done good…and when they leave you hanging…still feel good. Say HELLO just at the point someone hasn’t even realized they’ve waved you GOODBYE.

Watch someone PROFESS their expertise on a subject they know nothing about…Encourage the naivete and HOPE they turn out to be right just to prove you wrong…you freaking skeptic. When they prove you right…hope for a future chosen one that will finally end it all…at least in your MIND.

CRY! Feel silly… then LAUGH through the tears. Then THINK about what you would look like in someone elses eyes. EMBRACE being able to feel …then…DECIDE what you want to do with those feelings.

REGRET being emotional when your REJECTED. Be happy you walked it off. Realize when you are being self-destructive and ACCEPT THAT TOO…because it leads somewhere too.

The things that you OBSESS over stem from somewhere…DISCOVER those places.

JOURNEY through all the places that ENCOMPASS YOUR BEING…THEN…DO IT AGAIN in a different state of mind.

Life, Death, Beginning, Ending, Start, Finish, Alpha, Omega, Origin…

Images

 Images 

Images

A birthmark constellation on the cheek of my star.

A branding burn between the hitchhiker and her trigger finger.

A single stipple on the hill of a lip.

A flash of lightning, a roar of thunder  and a downpour of rain.

A voice in my ear saying "I made her kill me."

A lightless firecracker that dissipated into the atmosphere.

Purple, pulsating fog rolls in across a ground of glass.

The orb that spins amidst the mountain is reflected in the mirror plain.

The daggers of light reflect in my head behind closed eyes that block the worlds natural spin.

I hear a mixture of Charlie Brown adults and Sound of Music children.

The thoughts in my head are a mixed load of laundry.

I laugh at the wonder of what color they might turn out to be.

I see light in my periphery but darkness to the left of me.

Childrens question marks say, "Make sense of the world for me mommy."

A wiggle of fingers to make sure you can still feel.

A rub of the temple, a scratch on the third eye just to see if its real.

A metronomical clicking in the back of a parched throat,

And a sunburst superimposed on the ceilings red tote.

High pitches, smooth arches, fireflies colliding. Water that smothered long lit candles of exhausted lovers.

How do you spell the sound of a breath blowing out a flame?

6/9/10

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To do away with fancy love.

To do away with the grandiose memory.

To be free of the ache of a phantom limb.

Oh what a day when we see that day.

Love is a suicide pact in which only one lover strikes true.

Both beg for a little death, part naieve part fool.

The excitement of a Rapunzel fairy tale, wondering chances of success where a Capulet and Montague fail.

A dog fight, who first will spin the tale?


A damned prisoner watching the inferno peel the paint from the walls.

Forgotten years lying right beneath the surface.

One in a million to survive and see what truly lies at the foundation.

That's the beam poets embrace.  I'd sooner claim no relation.

To live to see the spark blaze and the tremor quake and not try and remedy the constant ache.

To do away with fancy love.

To do away with the grandiose memory.

To be free of the ache of a phantom limb.

Oh what a day when we see that day.


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