rude awakenings

This is a new language. A new way of viewing Were I can observe the beauty of paint chipped cement floors which peal away in gold flakes. Where the poetry lifts you up into a music video in your mind drawn on gray cement sidewalk blocks with green and pink and yellow sticks of chalk. And this car pulls you up out a road in your spine with seat belts of sand and once upon a time. pulling you upwards but there's never any end, it's a spinning transition that turns and turns again. There's nothing really new just looking with new eyes, new view. It is this trip that makes you want to stay up all night, lighting candles and incense and just write. On the walls, on the door in charcoal and chalk, some complex dialogue with your deep inner thoughts. And to sit and recite poetry in your shower. why? God knows. God knows how long it's been since we've been sitting here, two or four hours? And here we go again with these categories and, his definitions mass conclusions stall...

I am so afraid. my reality, the foundation's built by years of this society, following blindly and simply, and happily. Have been shaken I went to a slam. I heard The most amazing poetry ever. The most inspiring reader. Everything she said made sense. And I went home and I wrote. and wrote. And I was no longer in the world I grew up in But I was. But it was different slightly altered. It was on the level of energy Instead of purely physical it was intangible, no borders, everything flowed together And I wrote for hours. In my illegible chicken scratch In my notebook for poetry. I was running on tracks of other-worldly inspiration Frightening. Because I didn't know if I could believe anything of my past I didn't know what was real or what that word even meant. What anything meant. And now, I've gone back between the layers of shelter of the modernist society but I have traces still embeded in my brain of this other world. this other dimension. Je n'ai aucune idee quo...

I don't want to follow you anymore. I don't want to hear it. Read it, feel the loneliness mixed impeccably with jealousy in a Molotov cocktail and thrown in a window in my brain. Explodes with each compacted memory I'd stored away in hibernation. When I am without memories I am happy. No relativity to define me.

All romantics meet the same fate some day, cynical and drunk, and boring someone in some dark cafe Wouldn't it be great, that perfect soulmate who offers a permanent release? Wouldn't it be fun, two souls fused as one, and living in joy and in peace? I know that I'm young And I've only begun but I've got 2 years already under my belt And all that I've gained was two years of pain you wouldn't believe the shit that I've felt. I said it was love, that was sent from above! Oh, what a fool was I. I just thought that pain was part of the game And it was perfectly normal to cry. But the tears they kept flowing, Showing no signs of slowing, Throwing my resolve all askew. And the truth began showing through the tears, still ongoing I was now knowing what I had to do. So now, my friends, I'll skip ahead to the end, You all know how this chapter goes Harsh words were spoken, two hearts now left broken, As I'm sure that most of you know. So now you may see...

I have always been fascinated with the human body, but more so the female body. I think of it as beautiful and artistic. Ever since I was young I'd been subjected to the naked female form. Swimming pool showers and older women walking nude. Being taboo, my friends would all be so scarred and afraid to look. But I'd been subjected to it at a young age, and grew accustomed. Being around women who weren't ashamed to be exposed opened my eyes, and gave me an appreciation for this work of art hung in flesh. And so I find that drawings and paitings of naked women are just so beautiful. I can't explain it more than that. There's nothing much more beautiful than a women who isn't afraid or ashamed of her body. [from rue des images ]

So if you've heard of dragon naturally speaking you may understand this. this is me reading my poem 'good enough' ( a few blogs down) into the program and this is what it decided to show up as. needless to say i need to enunciate more. Shadow down and I to the edition was printed on the and I caught the image that was printed on at each price between us. Aware that your heavy and reluctant hanging onto the tissues of my mind the first thinkers I to phrases but for all the effort getting a list by shoulder gets the door to keep them in Rio the blinders they've just because I didn't want to hurt and need to see the destruction related by wake the razor blade to silence the Eagles in.hello to you by as I sped off I don't see because I turned my back. Out of sight out of mind but I do said it yours and take steely God's wide. I've are poised at you. Because I turned my back. And I tore it down I read you up and I thank you to the. And I read search for those...

Well, tomorrow I suppose, in all officiality, but for me, tonight was the last I'd ever see of him. Plane leaves at 9 something tomorrow morning, and he's off on an adventure of a lifetime, or something very close. I never knew how I'd react and I didn't put much thought into it until I had to. Until I was standing there, with my hand still lingering on the front door as I watched him walk down my front steps and to the awaiting car. I felt the welling emotion and I knew it bore no good. I walked to the window seat and watched the car drive away. Watched the boy I'd almost fell in love with drive out of my life. I broke down in muffled sobs, spilling forth from a pain I never thought I'd feel for him. I saw in the reflection of the window my mother coming up behind me slowly, and she sat beside me and put her arms around me and let me cry into them. The tears pushed forth in a stronger wave of outpouring as I toyed with the thought of never having his arms aroun...

A picture, where the smiles lay frozen forever. A crystalline memory preserved. That moment, unexisting, but held on that sheen of photography paper Clear as day grasped in kodachrome forever. A memory. Looking back, I always feel invisible, Not-quite-there. A picture A cage for those forgottens trudging those feelings back pulling them forth from that abyss of blurred pasts once again. Neurological brain cell pathways Axons, synapses, terminals. when the pathways worn down a memory remains When the path degrades All is forgotten But curious, How a scent, a song, how an old trinket can bring it all rushing back

Down down down, here we go again. Spinning down the vile pit of despair. Pathetic and lowly and despicable. That weakness has got a strong grasp, fingers tight on my collar, gathering the fabric and wrenching me forward. An irresistable despair, I dig my pit further. Broken cardboard hearts, torn from the sheet of the morning and spoiled in life's darkly decay. That silly seed of emotion turned into a creeping vine, I am consumed. The purpley clouds on the horizon breaking over the clear blueness of early morning skies. My body's out of tune with that song I once had sung. Unstrung and useless, I sit, stewing, stubborn and weak.

Bang bang, he shot me down. With the gun that I handed him. A relationship full of potential energy, wasted as heat dissipation. The end. And all the energy lost as heat and thrown to the dismal world outside our windows. We've done our part in erroding the universe. All the Lost words never spoken, lack of touch lack of movement, lack of meaning. So many possibilites for the energy between us but we let it waste away with trepidation. I wanted you to use me. I wanted to be used, I wanted to be wanted. I wanted to be better than her, somehow.

There's caffeine running solely through my veins, the acrid tastes thick on my tongue wont go away. the fingers perched above the keyboard twitch and shake with false adrenaline. I can't make it recede. my leg is tap tap tapping my thumbs putting out a beat on the spacebar Caffeine train pulling my mind on a tangent away from the work I should be doing. lolling about in a feild of nothing while i struggle to reel it back in but my arms shake with an overload and my stomach churns unhappily. Three cups may have been to much. With heaping spoonfuls of the shoddy instant variety. Could have made the real deal but the coffe machine would wake everyone. 6am, and no one would be happy with me. So i watched the brown grinds dissolve in my thermos and proceded to run for the bus. xxx Where is my old style? It's been replaced with strangeness unfamiliar and frightening I have lost myself in another again. I've moved to new mind sets I've lost my style along the way. Or may...

I've looked at love from both sides now. The ends too similar to bear. Yet nothing of great consequence Barely merriting a poetic phrase. Please understand I never had a secret chart to get to the heart of this or any other matter. I took wrong turn. You were a mere brush against my side. This love is a sordid affair. The dampening tones, these weary blues. And I find my age and experience gives me away to the stereotype. my words are self indulgent and misguided. Yet I cant make myself write anything more. I 've entrenched myself within my emotions.

You are a shadow now. And I can't conjure the image that was printed on my eyelids after each breath between us. The words I draw are heavy and reluctant, hanging onto the tissues of my mind with tiny frozen fingers. I feel I need to put you to phrases. But I've thrown all my effort into forgetting it all. Pushed my shoulder against the door to keep your memory out. Put the blinders made of distance up because I didn't want to hurt. I didn't need to see the destruction lain in my wake, the razor blades of silence, pins and needles of new love. You're numb and alone and So thick in my dust as I sped off that I don't see you. Because I turned my back. Out of sight, out of my mind, but I know I sat in yours, fermenting, stewing in God knows what. And I've rooted a poison in you. because I turned my back. And I tore you down, I ripped you up and sent you to the wind. And I have searched for those fragments but the time has snatched them away from me and it serve...