22.12.09

nieton

So I'm meeting someone new tomorrow.
I'm scared shitless.
He's an interesting person, to say the least.
He's brash, arrogant and one of the best artists I've seen.
He spends all his time doing nothing, sleeping and vegging out I suppose.
He seems like a nice guy, I think.
He told me he didn't have many friends
And a lot of free time.
This is the first stranger I'll be meeting,
And if anyone knows me, they know I'm not a very outgoing person at first.
I don't have a clue what will come of this,
I've gone from thinking he likes me
to thinking he's making a joke of me
many times over.
I drunkenly told him I'd be his friend last night,
And I have to keep my promise.
I'm just scared.
Obviously I must be worth something in his eyes,
He seems the elitist type, only choosing to talk to a select few
I know I've already exceeded his expectations,
But even the strongest of foundations can crumble and fall instantaneously.
If there's just cause.
Well, I'm apprehensive at best.
We'll see what happens.

16.12.09

I think I'm onto something

A naked love.
The secret youth of two anonymous bodies
To me they are well matched in symmetry
construed from words I read
Congruous edges in pale hues
of buff, or a pale peach.
Dull eyes that fill with misconceptions
transcending ideas that don't match up.
Your hollow vessels carry the weight of preconceptions.
Fill you with my experiences when I read a common word
You say love, I fill you with my images of love.
with my touch, my remembrance.
You are kept alive with my yesterday.
You are an image,
pasted with dull color
and deep like an urn
and I dump my ashes
of dead feelings there.
But, in your cheeks
and bitten lips,
there is color
that no amount of grey dust can kill.
Your eyes are blue
clear like sky,
like the forever in your soul.
I see your pictures
the monochromatic image you've painted,
Not only of pixelated profiles
but layers underneath words.
And the words beneath the layers,
That reveal a broken frame
once you let the world take you under.
bones twist beneath the weight of words.
beneath the burden from the ashes of yesterday.
You've been fed a poison of hypocrisy.
Sawed open,
etherized patients on slabs of media.
veins alive like wires,
feeding the circuit,
These falsities screaming through your blood.
carving deep undulations
the ripples of broken wings.
Painting a new picture of lost horizons
in awkward vibrancy.
You are a dappled dove living in a kaleidoscope world
struggling to navigate
with ashes up to your knees
the echoes of the dead
running through your head like
flash bulb camera smiles.
Breathe in the dust
moral asphyxiation and
A weakness budding.
And your blood is mixed with cinders and tar
and your steps are heavy
and under the foundation of powder and smog
They sent the sun to show truth
But you have been burnt and blinded by it's glare.

And truth is only a word

a whispered possibility.
but for the subtle creatures it is
the moon, she who offers elucidation.
And in the moonlight your skin is naked
and the erratic world is dipped in silver stars.

But the darks don't last
they fade to dawn
and brings the swirling ashes on.
the piles are getting louder
screams in your ear turn to sawdust
And you sink to a low vibration
once and for all.
and your spirit turns to sand
in a pile among the ashes and lies
your soul sets
with the setting of the sun.
There is no moon tonight
she is mending hearts else where.
and the night is thick.
And the world turns back to day
but the sun has a companion
in unfurling his wings

from the ashes
a phoenix is born

14.12.09

pat

The world cuts a deep scar
that betrays your tongue up your sleeve.
A sentence you're saving for later.
Dont try and save me from yourself
you're only damning us both.
From heavy beginnings
You
walk forward slowly.
Dragging your palms across the badlands to keep your world spinning
Always wanting to see the other side
the corners of youth
and crevices of smiles.
Like
A young puppy staring out at the night
through a window
wondering.

flash flash you green light

Like a staring contest with a one eyed lazer
sullen cardboard eyes
darkly brightened screen.
Wearing the paint thin with my restless fingers and heart
As soon as I walk away the phone buzzes.
not like how it was before
where I'd pick it up
fractions of a second before an incoming alert.
but no one can text that often
for I pick it up on each silly whim.
Always half waiting for your words to come back
but you're too far away
and I've lost them.

12.12.09


The corners of youth

I want to write again.
Write as myself and not as those artists
the slammers, the blessed ones.
The shoes I'll never fit
yet in a misguided stupor
high off the feelings in their words
I put pen to paper and scribble out
silly notions, no revising, no revisiting.
Just writing, in abandon
silly phrases I know nothing of.
Using my elbows to shove my way into admiration
of strangers I know nothing of
except they have come to this room
to hear words.
And I bombard them with my own
attempting to validate my petty dreams
My vanity
alive in my words
and my performance.

God I sound dumb.
Poetry readings have changed my life.
How, not really sure yet.

[i just dont want to end up like rene. no offence bud]

11.12.09

some messed up shiiiz.

I have no true touching stories behind my words. no metaphores to my poetry, no alliterations or hyperbolies or adjectives. no synonyms no thesauruses for my phrases. just a hand full of letters and commas, maybe an exclamat!on mark or a sem; colon thrown in the mix. just these bland back bone,, baritone, monotone, monochrome black and white photocopies of ideas and emotions. just these indentations before the paragraphs, the page numbers the blank canvas whites and the pre-dawn blacks, that halt before the steep slide, the drop on a rollercoaster ride. the primer, DNA polymerase, the enzymes, the catalists. the lag time as the heater in the car warms up, the speed-walk of the last 50 yards before you walk into a nice warm house. The I dont know, and the everything. before the everything. the possibility, the potential. the everything-you-need. the everything, but the nothing. because words are just words. theyre lifeless and cold, but with the voice that they're carried on, the flow of energy of breath expelled, like the bright-coloured rags of dead leaves on a harsh november breeze that flows like razor blades. but the breath is like a sun ray and dust moats and lilac winds and warm wafting scent of chocolate. Like ohm, like ohmmm...... like alpha and omega, coming home. like a lullaby that lulls the beast to sleep, calm the razor blades made of freeways that rip the stars from their perches. like a warm bed after a cold day, a cold drink after a hot afternoon, it's eating cookie dough, right off of the spoon! like silver clouds moving and exposing the moon, like that jazzy, mellow, crune, like being, like seeing, believing. like everything. and this energetic sound strung round breath with word-beads, in a perfect balance, perfect fit, meets the ears like champagne to a glass, like a lover responding to a kiss...like subtle bliss....maybe. or maybe not. each spin is different, never a story the same, no two thoughts spinning in tandem, no. no, to each their own and onwards. to infitiy and beyond. or maybe just a walk around the block and down the street, a quick run to the corner store. or maybe, nothing at all. maybe a stationary trip, statue of the mind, thoughts carved in marble and gold, silver and cold. but any how, any way, if these cold frame phrases these bland and blank faced words, strung together on breath and on ideas anda common passion or curiosity, if these fragments of raw feeling have turned any keys or opened any doors, counjured even a faint breeze shuffling papers and thoughts...then my words have served their purpose.and the transition is complete, the circle re spun, restrung, but only just begun....maybe....

8.12.09

happy dream :)

i had the best dream last night. I was at my cabin with everyone that I loved. It was a wee mix between maekelburger village and my cabin, and my whole family was there Krista's family was all there, as well as petra and Marysia. It started off with being in a department store of fancy dresses and there were these really mean teenagers all prissy who were working there and my friend somehow stole one of the girls dresses and it was really funny. And then suddenly we were at a lake and we had this raft and we were saving certain animal from this really giant leech and we tried so hard to get this animal up onto the raft because we weren't sure if it was normally a water animal or a land animal. We finally got it out and it said thank you but then it went back in the water because it belongs in the water and it distracted the leach for us so that we could cross to this cliff down the lake. So when we got to this cliff, I know had been there before it was filled with huge semiprecious rocks that were unreal and did not look natural but they looked like they belonged there. So I climbed this cliff with Heather while such a Krista petra and dana took another way up to the top of the cliff. On my way I found this little pebbles that were so beautiful, they were 3-D, they were black with bright green in them or blue crisscrosses so I gathered a bunch up to give to petra, because she loved rocks. So we got to the top and we came into this cave like thing where it looked like a scene from the first Harry Potter with the big chess set. It looked like an old abandoned archaeological site. But then the cave turned into an attic and we were looking at old dollhouses until somebody came up and told us to come down for some reason. Maybe it was dinner time. So we went back To our cabin/houseboat thing. My mom was leaving, no everyone was leaving and I was left there alone so I went to my moms room and I found this jewelry box that was full with old photographs and jewelry and letters and I just spent forever looking through it all, until my mom came back and I just made out of her room and time, but she saw me come out but she didn't yell or get mad at me or ask me what I was doing in her room she just smiled and told me come downstairs because we were going swimming. So i went to put on my bathing suit but then I realized actually didn't have a bathing suit, but then suddenly a fire burst out in my room and Amanda's face was in it and she handed me a bathing suit and then the fire disappeared and I was left with a bathing suit. And then I woke up. And when I woke up I felt like it was Christmas just because I was so happy and so excited just to be alive. And it didn't matter that the snow was a foot deep in my yard because the sun was shining through my window.

4.12.09

I want my mommy.

it
breaks
my
heart.
I picked up the phone
already knowing who I'd hear.
Already knowing my dad would answer
And I had no real place.
I waited till the ringing stopped dead.
Heard a muffled and tired hello
from his room in the basement below.
I held the phone up to my ear
and could only endure a few seconds
a broken spirit behind a strained voice
The voice of a defeated soul
unappreciated and alone
in a prison of her own flesh and blood
in close proximity
all pulled tight like guitar strings
along a neck with the name 'moving day'
but this instrument of sorrow
offers no music
only a harsh mash up of voices all screaming
for their own supremacy.
And I see her wire of sanity being pulled
and pulled some more
I can hear the tremors of her voice
about to break.
she's about to break.