The logs on the shelves of my mind, do what they please,
They flip through themselves, moving backwards in time,
Shuffling, bleeding together, they mingle,
I see the breaking light, between the slotted captions at high speeds.
Replaying nights at play, and filthy plays at night, they wonder,
I remember her eyes, our smiles and what it would take to have her,
But the logs are but fragments of memory, from a scene viewed upside down.
Filtered through notion-ed senses, my minds eye will see what it can.
-what its offered-
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
A break up
"Relax I'm different." I said to her eyes. To her malnourished soul.
Purging regrets, misfortunes, and awkward moments from our minds we stand tall and attenuate.
"Don't say that," she says, looking-shifting away.
Boys have taught her not to love, the game of sex, and how to will yourself towards numbness-calling it freedom; calling it strength.
"Ourselves, alone, with nothing but the past, will remain halved." I say, as my hand guides her back to me. I believe the words, but that's not what should have been said. corny bullshit.
Silence...Withdraw...
"Why are you going," I say. She gracefully deflects my hand away.
A beautiful scene to view as the leading matriarch of rejection, play her tunes.
"To live...good bye." She will leave in a week. I have a whole week.
Purging regrets, misfortunes, and awkward moments from our minds we stand tall and attenuate.
"Don't say that," she says, looking-shifting away.
Boys have taught her not to love, the game of sex, and how to will yourself towards numbness-calling it freedom; calling it strength.
"Ourselves, alone, with nothing but the past, will remain halved." I say, as my hand guides her back to me. I believe the words, but that's not what should have been said. corny bullshit.
Silence...Withdraw...
"Why are you going," I say. She gracefully deflects my hand away.
A beautiful scene to view as the leading matriarch of rejection, play her tunes.
"To live...good bye." She will leave in a week. I have a whole week.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
I woke up bored yesterday. seeing all there is to see in life through my eyes-through boxes of media. the difference between staying in bed and walking the streets alluded me. until i read this passage in, Dave Eggers's What is the What,
"On the morning of the the fourth day, I woke to find a boy named Jok Deng peeing on me. He was among the first boys to lose his head in the desert. The heat was too strong and we had not eaten for three days."
the power of perspective is alarming at best. having only a few outlets to view the world, our fields of vision buffer. only allowing sections of pixels at a time.
it may or not be weird to read such a horrific experience from a narrative, and feel better. in a modern culturally narcissistic society-i guess-it isn't weird.
the type of sun that rises between our shades every morning, in detailed light, will eventually feed us in the modern world. with our bellies full and cuticles clipped, we live like kings and queens.
and flags of honor we so proudly, and dramatically thrust into piles of silly hardship-claiming triumph-amount to little when someone else is being peed on.
but life is subjective...i guess.
"On the morning of the the fourth day, I woke to find a boy named Jok Deng peeing on me. He was among the first boys to lose his head in the desert. The heat was too strong and we had not eaten for three days."
the power of perspective is alarming at best. having only a few outlets to view the world, our fields of vision buffer. only allowing sections of pixels at a time.
it may or not be weird to read such a horrific experience from a narrative, and feel better. in a modern culturally narcissistic society-i guess-it isn't weird.
the type of sun that rises between our shades every morning, in detailed light, will eventually feed us in the modern world. with our bellies full and cuticles clipped, we live like kings and queens.
and flags of honor we so proudly, and dramatically thrust into piles of silly hardship-claiming triumph-amount to little when someone else is being peed on.
but life is subjective...i guess.
Monday, January 11, 2010
A guessing game of body language is played out today,
A guessing game of body language is played out today,
As sparks of speech ignite our interests, the fire roared and warmed us,
With cautious hands I kept the pace, while she moves as she speaks,
Between the graceful shadows of the light we render our cautious, iterate selves,
I will parody indifference at a safe pace, with semi-caring eyes-
Until-with insecurities gone-I feel her smiling lips on mine,
To release to fast, we'll pay the price, and loose what face we've bought,
If done to slow, intent is shown-the prize will feel unequaled,
So we play the game to see it through, if life will bring us together,
We'll look at Time to see the future us, if Time indeed sees fit,
But if and when our paths do part, I will sit and sip and think,
Well played, you did, the game of love, and amused yourself with it.
As sparks of speech ignite our interests, the fire roared and warmed us,
With cautious hands I kept the pace, while she moves as she speaks,
Between the graceful shadows of the light we render our cautious, iterate selves,
I will parody indifference at a safe pace, with semi-caring eyes-
Until-with insecurities gone-I feel her smiling lips on mine,
To release to fast, we'll pay the price, and loose what face we've bought,
If done to slow, intent is shown-the prize will feel unequaled,
So we play the game to see it through, if life will bring us together,
We'll look at Time to see the future us, if Time indeed sees fit,
But if and when our paths do part, I will sit and sip and think,
Well played, you did, the game of love, and amused yourself with it.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Date Night
Sitting in suits of pluralism, unable to steal a view,
With polished glass between them,
They will talk themselves up on cue,
To welcome the unknown, they will deal with consequence,
To break the selfsameness of time, they will play in the dark,
They close their eyes to feel the escape,
And replay their dreams in silence,
With searching hands and countered shifts,
They will split what has been given,
We take and give, push and shove to devise a way to haven.
With polished glass between them,
They will talk themselves up on cue,
To welcome the unknown, they will deal with consequence,
To break the selfsameness of time, they will play in the dark,
They close their eyes to feel the escape,
And replay their dreams in silence,
With searching hands and countered shifts,
They will split what has been given,
We take and give, push and shove to devise a way to haven.
Monday, November 9, 2009
a heartless night in January
In the heat of a night, now long past away, Peter remembered she could have loved him once. With the now frigged air of January chocking his lungs and forcing him into his coat every time he went to the street corner for smokes; the quick thought of her gave him warmth. Peter found no pleasure in route to JJ's, keeping his head down, he clinched the cuffs of his sleeves tightly, as his curses fogged the air. The Winter Wind has no charity, He thought, it is the angry remnants of a peaceful Summers wind. Now anemic from a lack of Sun, its is hungry. Hungry for flesh.
Entering the drug store-coffee shop combo, Peter gave off an audible shiver, shacking the cold from his bones. Mixed messages of indifference and empathy where given in return. With a calming stride, Peter glanced around the room for friends and strangers alike; as if to administer the silent greeting one gives to a room full of somber patrons. Once the air in the room had settled from the disturbance, and apologies given in time, Peter ordered a triple mocha. He thought the extra shots allowed him his proclivity towards chocolate milk, while saving his manly semblances he worked so hard to achieve just moments before.
While his coffee brewed, Peter walked over to the drug store side to buy a pack of cigarettes. Peter exchanged greetings with the cashier, Jenny. He often thought about taking Jenny out for coffee to give them another try. But, hiding cowardice eyes, Peter could find nothing acceptable to say. He should have gone some place else. Unwilling to test the waters with Jenny, and lacking the energy to think of a different place he'd rather drink coffee in, the moment passes. With fresh smokes, a warm coffee, and outflanked by fear-Peter found a seat next to a window.
JJ's was the perfect place Peter thought, at this time in his life. He found it convenient, for it was only a few blocks away from his shitty apartment. He often brought his own records to listen to, and play on the old style turn table-Jenny liked this. And, it was also the only place where a single male can not only buy cigarettes, coffee and condoms; but could potentially enjoy all three at once. While he typically smoked and drank his coffee. Peter had often fantasized about using all three. Pulling out that first smoke, Peter thought about his recently conceived Hat Trick. As the warming bittersweet aftertaste of his coffee mixed with the fruity, calming puff of the first drag; His mind went silent. And moments lived and died, in the fading blue gray light of a heartless night in January.
Entering the drug store-coffee shop combo, Peter gave off an audible shiver, shacking the cold from his bones. Mixed messages of indifference and empathy where given in return. With a calming stride, Peter glanced around the room for friends and strangers alike; as if to administer the silent greeting one gives to a room full of somber patrons. Once the air in the room had settled from the disturbance, and apologies given in time, Peter ordered a triple mocha. He thought the extra shots allowed him his proclivity towards chocolate milk, while saving his manly semblances he worked so hard to achieve just moments before.
While his coffee brewed, Peter walked over to the drug store side to buy a pack of cigarettes. Peter exchanged greetings with the cashier, Jenny. He often thought about taking Jenny out for coffee to give them another try. But, hiding cowardice eyes, Peter could find nothing acceptable to say. He should have gone some place else. Unwilling to test the waters with Jenny, and lacking the energy to think of a different place he'd rather drink coffee in, the moment passes. With fresh smokes, a warm coffee, and outflanked by fear-Peter found a seat next to a window.
JJ's was the perfect place Peter thought, at this time in his life. He found it convenient, for it was only a few blocks away from his shitty apartment. He often brought his own records to listen to, and play on the old style turn table-Jenny liked this. And, it was also the only place where a single male can not only buy cigarettes, coffee and condoms; but could potentially enjoy all three at once. While he typically smoked and drank his coffee. Peter had often fantasized about using all three. Pulling out that first smoke, Peter thought about his recently conceived Hat Trick. As the warming bittersweet aftertaste of his coffee mixed with the fruity, calming puff of the first drag; His mind went silent. And moments lived and died, in the fading blue gray light of a heartless night in January.
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