All of you on this day
Table top crumbs
the still life muse
of a blue sneakered boy
bearded poets
gargoyles perched,
watch children
taught religious math
unknown circuses of machines
making a night prayer of life, occasionally death
and a kiss brings it all to a close
as grey hair and glasses crosses out our emotions.
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
October 30th, 2007
the making of a misery
one glance alive
lips part slightly
as they pull into
a warmth she feels
in her bones.
one touch
goose bumps falling
down her skin from
neck to toes. a feeling
she can’t shake.
and doesn’t want to.
one kiss
a moment imprinted
like an image in a book
never to change, but can
always be destroyed.
one embrace
the descent into dreams
reality is pliable
and she puts her hand
through the mirror
into her heart.
one night
of breath
sweat pouring inside her.
fingernails down back.
sleep curls into him.
one life
an ending. so abrupt.
jaw still hangs slightly.
his hat no longer
on the door.
thin scent of a misery
she cannot live without.
one glance alive
lips part slightly
as they pull into
a warmth she feels
in her bones.
one touch
goose bumps falling
down her skin from
neck to toes. a feeling
she can’t shake.
and doesn’t want to.
one kiss
a moment imprinted
like an image in a book
never to change, but can
always be destroyed.
one embrace
the descent into dreams
reality is pliable
and she puts her hand
through the mirror
into her heart.
one night
of breath
sweat pouring inside her.
fingernails down back.
sleep curls into him.
one life
an ending. so abrupt.
jaw still hangs slightly.
his hat no longer
on the door.
thin scent of a misery
she cannot live without.
October 30th, 2007
The yellow glint
inside her eyes
he craves it
Forever
coat hangs on a chair
he isn’t there
memories here
all alone
dripping with woe
however
it feels so right
he craves my colors
red, orange, swirling thought
can’t let him taste me
wandering alone under
there is no such thing
as a memory here now
inside her eyes
he craves it
Forever
coat hangs on a chair
he isn’t there
memories here
all alone
dripping with woe
however
it feels so right
he craves my colors
red, orange, swirling thought
can’t let him taste me
wandering alone under
there is no such thing
as a memory here now
October 15th, 2007
Scene laid out. Black.
A blade of grass that is moving sporadically.
5 seconds.
Pan out.
A hand. motionless.
Pen near hand, hand poised on a journal.
A female hand.
Two rings. Fingernails painted, nail polish cracked.
Unknown color.
Pan out.
A girl is lying on the grass.
She wears a skirt, a shirt.
Pan out.
The grass is a yard.
A front yard.
Night time.
No movements save the trees being shaken by the wind.
The only sound is that. The wind.
Fade to black.
Scene laid out.
A man is in a room.
The room has a single lamp on.
The room has a couch, a table, the lamp and
The man. He has blood on him.
Blood on his hands, his shirt.
He wears no pants only underwear.
His face is contorted.
He holds a knife.
The knife is clean.
Pan out.
Pan around room.
Circle, stop on bathroom door.
Scene change.
Through the bathroom door.
Blood.
All over the floor, the old fashioned bathtub, the mirror.
The blood pool is largest next to the double doors.
They lead out to a balcony.
They stand slightly open.
Pan to balcony.
Blood on balcony.
Smears.
Pan over balcony.
Front yard.
The girl still lies there.
No blood.
Hand poised over journal.
Pen still next to hand.
Waiting.
A blade of grass that is moving sporadically.
5 seconds.
Pan out.
A hand. motionless.
Pen near hand, hand poised on a journal.
A female hand.
Two rings. Fingernails painted, nail polish cracked.
Unknown color.
Pan out.
A girl is lying on the grass.
She wears a skirt, a shirt.
Pan out.
The grass is a yard.
A front yard.
Night time.
No movements save the trees being shaken by the wind.
The only sound is that. The wind.
Fade to black.
Scene laid out.
A man is in a room.
The room has a single lamp on.
The room has a couch, a table, the lamp and
The man. He has blood on him.
Blood on his hands, his shirt.
He wears no pants only underwear.
His face is contorted.
He holds a knife.
The knife is clean.
Pan out.
Pan around room.
Circle, stop on bathroom door.
Scene change.
Through the bathroom door.
Blood.
All over the floor, the old fashioned bathtub, the mirror.
The blood pool is largest next to the double doors.
They lead out to a balcony.
They stand slightly open.
Pan to balcony.
Blood on balcony.
Smears.
Pan over balcony.
Front yard.
The girl still lies there.
No blood.
Hand poised over journal.
Pen still next to hand.
Waiting.
October 15th, 2007
alongside
wine colored
hair
unnatural beauty
water
languid
fluid
eyes that don’t see
she is married
to
colors
unnamable
unattainable
I could drown in
her.
So I do.
this is the
importance
of
the color
Blue
wine colored
hair
unnatural beauty
water
languid
fluid
eyes that don’t see
she is married
to
colors
unnamable
unattainable
I could drown in
her.
So I do.
this is the
importance
of
the color
Blue
October 2nd, 2007
go
good + evil
in relation
to
production waste
go
go
go
go
don’t sleep
or else you
will die
we see with
our mouths
as our
hands cry
and our eyes
grab at
everything
short term memory
doesn’t exist anymore
but we are much better
at telling
lies
now that we know how
to write.
good + evil
in relation
to
production waste
go
go
go
go
don’t sleep
or else you
will die
we see with
our mouths
as our
hands cry
and our eyes
grab at
everything
short term memory
doesn’t exist anymore
but we are much better
at telling
lies
now that we know how
to write.
September 18th, 2007
honey + milk
Where we are.
What a question.
The curve of the back.
Milk, bone, soft.
honey + milk
bone plaster
smooth cream bone
curves under honey
+ milk skin.
pores are open. light
peachy fuzz dances
under fingertips
hair
like water
brushing the tips of
tendrils with
coarse fingers.
Where we are.
What a question.
The curve of the back.
Milk, bone, soft.
honey + milk
bone plaster
smooth cream bone
curves under honey
+ milk skin.
pores are open. light
peachy fuzz dances
under fingertips
hair
like water
brushing the tips of
tendrils with
coarse fingers.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
