Dec/29/2010: inundation. (with parenthetical implications.)
Give me a metaphor for love, she demanded.
Love is a flood, I offered.
(It begins with a tidal wave between your ears and as your feet run away in fear, your heart stays in place, welcoming, willing to drown from the inside even as the saltwater leaks out the corner of your eyes, stinging harshly yet soothingly. You giggle in anticipation and allow the waterfall to slip smoothly, coolly down your throat; your lungs becoming an aquarium of love, preserved by the cage of your ribs. Liquid bloats your stomach and streams quickly down your intestines--you've become a blooming water-work! and still the torrent rides on with indefinite vengeance, bleeding through your veins, rushing down your spine, shifting cartilage, seeping outwards through the pores of your skin. Your legs wobble with the overflow and you stop chasing safety because you can't fight it anymore. You're left a solute, fully saturated, at once transparent enough to reveal all your insides while lucidly reflecting the shameless culprit who dared unleash this dam of engulfing homogeneity.)
That's not enough, she sighs, but writes it down, reluctantly.
Love is a flood, I offered.
(It begins with a tidal wave between your ears and as your feet run away in fear, your heart stays in place, welcoming, willing to drown from the inside even as the saltwater leaks out the corner of your eyes, stinging harshly yet soothingly. You giggle in anticipation and allow the waterfall to slip smoothly, coolly down your throat; your lungs becoming an aquarium of love, preserved by the cage of your ribs. Liquid bloats your stomach and streams quickly down your intestines--you've become a blooming water-work! and still the torrent rides on with indefinite vengeance, bleeding through your veins, rushing down your spine, shifting cartilage, seeping outwards through the pores of your skin. Your legs wobble with the overflow and you stop chasing safety because you can't fight it anymore. You're left a solute, fully saturated, at once transparent enough to reveal all your insides while lucidly reflecting the shameless culprit who dared unleash this dam of engulfing homogeneity.)
That's not enough, she sighs, but writes it down, reluctantly.
Dec/26/10: as if you could.
Please
don't tell
me what I
want to hear. Tell
me what's in
my heart.
Thanks.
don't tell
me what I
want to hear. Tell
me what's in
my heart.
Thanks.
Dec/23/2010: like music to my ears
She didn't like to talk.
They said her voice grated like a rusted machine, a ten-speed blender on "ice", demolition derbies, and jackhammers
She opened her mouth and spit gravel at anyone who dared open their ears
They ran away because she spoke as if the world was falling apart--
She shut her mouth. She could read their reactions like an audio book
Disdain at first, palpable; then the misconceptions and formulated judgments, she could evade those
but singular hatred, like a contagious disease spreading from face to face, shocked her core like a brain wave on fire
She didn't understand, couldn't fathom, doubted herself--
If anyone had paid attention, they would have heard a slight, wheeze
a hesitant cough, the clearing of her pebbled throat
and a pause, the summoning of muted courage
"Excuse me" flew from her gut, traveled across the malevolence
sailed up to their ears, and they froze in one uniform heartbeat--
The marked violence, duly reported, slid across the late-night news like a distant breeze
while parents were drowsy with wine, children safely tucked away in their sleep
The body of the girl who once vocalized in melodies of hums and clicks lay in abrupt peace
but her voice carried her into dimensions far higher than anyone could imagine
---
she radiated more love than the world could hold
The world couldn't take it.
I grieved for her when no one else did
They said her voice grated like a rusted machine, a ten-speed blender on "ice", demolition derbies, and jackhammers
She opened her mouth and spit gravel at anyone who dared open their ears
They ran away because she spoke as if the world was falling apart--
She shut her mouth. She could read their reactions like an audio book
Disdain at first, palpable; then the misconceptions and formulated judgments, she could evade those
but singular hatred, like a contagious disease spreading from face to face, shocked her core like a brain wave on fire
She didn't understand, couldn't fathom, doubted herself--
If anyone had paid attention, they would have heard a slight, wheeze
a hesitant cough, the clearing of her pebbled throat
and a pause, the summoning of muted courage
"Excuse me" flew from her gut, traveled across the malevolence
sailed up to their ears, and they froze in one uniform heartbeat--
The marked violence, duly reported, slid across the late-night news like a distant breeze
while parents were drowsy with wine, children safely tucked away in their sleep
The body of the girl who once vocalized in melodies of hums and clicks lay in abrupt peace
but her voice carried her into dimensions far higher than anyone could imagine
---
she radiated more love than the world could hold
The world couldn't take it.
I grieved for her when no one else did
Dec/22/2010: easy leaving
the first word we spoke
together, and saw clearly,
our only goodbye.
together, and saw clearly,
our only goodbye.
Dec/12/2010: Re-turning
It's 1:23
You wonder of numbers, of colons, of meridians
the order of letters and grammar
the alignment of fingers, organs, and bones
and why, really, we're all here
when we could be on any other planet
or born any other star
But could you call yourself a star?
no, you're much too humble
too humble to say what draws attention
Yet you're drawing and re-drawing
on the inside--everything you know and will know
you're remapping the universe
reversing the world as the rest of us know it
reinventing time, space, logic
nothing is reality and.
You
are
god.
You have the power
but it's all inside
A world all to yourself; oh, the possibilities
who to recreate, what to re-destroy
regeneration is your fifth middle name
(because you kept re-adding and replacing)
I'm having so much fun!, you say
I can do this alone forever!
Like a lone wolf, the lone god rules for eternity
but soon,
your senses betray you
your heart denies you
You are eventually defeated.
Again.
---
It's a self-destructive vice
the circle of your life
but you won't stop turning.
You wonder of numbers, of colons, of meridians
the order of letters and grammar
the alignment of fingers, organs, and bones
and why, really, we're all here
when we could be on any other planet
or born any other star
But could you call yourself a star?
no, you're much too humble
too humble to say what draws attention
Yet you're drawing and re-drawing
on the inside--everything you know and will know
you're remapping the universe
reversing the world as the rest of us know it
reinventing time, space, logic
nothing is reality and.
You
are
god.
You have the power
but it's all inside
A world all to yourself; oh, the possibilities
who to recreate, what to re-destroy
regeneration is your fifth middle name
(because you kept re-adding and replacing)
I'm having so much fun!, you say
I can do this alone forever!
Like a lone wolf, the lone god rules for eternity
but soon,
your senses betray you
your heart denies you
You are eventually defeated.
Again.
---
It's a self-destructive vice
the circle of your life
but you won't stop turning.
Nov/15/2010: She's a self-destruct
She's starving on the inside
starving for attention,
feeding on false love
She's been infected with
Anorexia
She wears the latest trends
but all the bits that should be there
are sunken in below her collarbones
Her spine is ribbed like seahorse vertebrae
That mirror she looks into first thing every morning--
the glass reflects her ugly truth
Like a fragile butterfly who hasn't bathed
in sunlight since the day of her birth,
her wings have been disabled.
She hobbles on her bare bones,
joints chafing angrily
But still she feels larger than life
forever too large to carry on.
starving for attention,
feeding on false love
She's been infected with
Anorexia
She wears the latest trends
but all the bits that should be there
are sunken in below her collarbones
Her spine is ribbed like seahorse vertebrae
That mirror she looks into first thing every morning--
the glass reflects her ugly truth
Like a fragile butterfly who hasn't bathed
in sunlight since the day of her birth,
her wings have been disabled.
She hobbles on her bare bones,
joints chafing angrily
But still she feels larger than life
forever too large to carry on.
Oct/13/2010: sky eyes
Tell me something, she says in her way of thinking the sky never turns darker than gold, what would you give for less than me?
I would give nothing for the most of you, I say, in robot manners coated in grey metal
I'd show you all the mettle I was packaged with, the laundry tag that instructs you, my consumer, to wash me in cold monotony
don't you think it's funny? she asks after a while, her sky eyes proven wrong
I've got nothing left to offer
but you could settle for less, you could always--
I would give nothing for the most of you, I say, in robot manners coated in grey metal
I'd show you all the mettle I was packaged with, the laundry tag that instructs you, my consumer, to wash me in cold monotony
don't you think it's funny? she asks after a while, her sky eyes proven wrong
I've got nothing left to offer
but you could settle for less, you could always--
Oct/5/2010: wakeful
sleep is an angel
I like to hide underneath
she spreads her wings far and wide
and I float on a feather of dreams
she whispers to me in broad daylight
she tells me not to say goodbye
embarrassed, I shake my head no because life goes on
but she makes me promise to meet her again at night
she says she likes to hold my hand while I breathe
quiet-like, between us where it's the warmest
snuggles closer when I shift, a little excuse
I feel her murmurs, the slight tickles across my chest
maybe someday I'll tell her the truth
I'm awake when I'm dreaming
I like to hide underneath
she spreads her wings far and wide
and I float on a feather of dreams
she whispers to me in broad daylight
she tells me not to say goodbye
embarrassed, I shake my head no because life goes on
but she makes me promise to meet her again at night
she says she likes to hold my hand while I breathe
quiet-like, between us where it's the warmest
snuggles closer when I shift, a little excuse
I feel her murmurs, the slight tickles across my chest
maybe someday I'll tell her the truth
I'm awake when I'm dreaming
Sept/18/2010: litmus
defected litmus
I'm reading the colors all
wrong; You cut me up
I'm reading the colors all
wrong; You cut me up
Sept/11/2010: tell me why
tell me why the sun and the moon
shine differently
do I shine differently
than her, does my smile hold you higher?
am I mysterious, slightly amused and knowing,
or joyous and burning with the fervor of a thousand galactic embers--
no, I want to be interchangeable
to you, your eyes, your heart
sing, I sing to you in my sleep
nightingale dreams
to guide you home to me
but if I disappeared into the space
to make a place for myself
became a star in this instance of a hopeful minute
I'd name me after my love for you
shine differently
do I shine differently
than her, does my smile hold you higher?
am I mysterious, slightly amused and knowing,
or joyous and burning with the fervor of a thousand galactic embers--
no, I want to be interchangeable
to you, your eyes, your heart
sing, I sing to you in my sleep
nightingale dreams
to guide you home to me
but if I disappeared into the space
to make a place for myself
became a star in this instance of a hopeful minute
I'd name me after my love for you
May/21/2010: the cost of wings
You did math in your head the way I made music with my eyes so you said we fit together like a figure and its mirror image. You called miracles magic but I didn't believe in them; this disparity clashed behind that decrepit brick building out by the old Ames fields now weedily overgrown and perfect for garden mice, only we weren't looking down there, but across at the sun sneaking behind the fluff in the sky, and like the butterflies that chased the rays like child's play we were too infatuated by beauty to see all the other meanings between the words written down here, don't you see? Care-freely we dangled our legs
four hundred and nine stories high to feel the sunset above the storm, wishing for wings while afraid of freedom, afraid of what freedom could do. So we stayed, not bound chained shackled behind bars, though not without the weight of the solar system fooling around with gravity on our shoulders either. We didn't agree too much but we saw that our lives should be intertwined so we decided to wait it out, to see how the present would open up. But your eyes kept doing somersaults
those nifty backward ones I never got and almost snapped my neck doing, your irises were graffiti'd with a past I would never reach toward, just forward. But I said we would make it work and I did, only you didn't last as long as the shoelaces led us to believe 'cause those bunny ears that looked like infinity were stretched to their last thread-- staring through me you pulled-- we snapped apart as you walked away. I stood statue-like at the line where you spoke the word "over"
because your footsteps tore open my back, where a pair of bloody wings smelling like newborns flexed and stretched and bent down to say hello.
four hundred and nine stories high to feel the sunset above the storm, wishing for wings while afraid of freedom, afraid of what freedom could do. So we stayed, not bound chained shackled behind bars, though not without the weight of the solar system fooling around with gravity on our shoulders either. We didn't agree too much but we saw that our lives should be intertwined so we decided to wait it out, to see how the present would open up. But your eyes kept doing somersaults
those nifty backward ones I never got and almost snapped my neck doing, your irises were graffiti'd with a past I would never reach toward, just forward. But I said we would make it work and I did, only you didn't last as long as the shoelaces led us to believe 'cause those bunny ears that looked like infinity were stretched to their last thread-- staring through me you pulled-- we snapped apart as you walked away. I stood statue-like at the line where you spoke the word "over"
because your footsteps tore open my back, where a pair of bloody wings smelling like newborns flexed and stretched and bent down to say hello.
Apr/23/2010: Grand Love
She sells love
on the corner
for thirty thousand grand
her throat itches
with her peddler's scream
her pushcart groans from its weight
the sign she bears reads
"MONEY CAN BY YOU LUV"
strung around her neck, where age shows
and in her chest, the cancer of heartbreak grows
'cause she knows love
can be spontaneous and unpredictable
and often walks itself out the backyard gate
when eyes are turned the other way
Yet she sells love
futilely
because her eyes are wide enough
to find the love that hides
obscured behind the fake potted plants in cafes
behind the bookshelves in musty libraries
behind the dead-end job at a faceless company
behind the abandoned school building, at the door to bungalow 17B
She'll find love for you
for thirty thousand grand
'cause she knows the truth
love don't come cheap
on the corner
for thirty thousand grand
her throat itches
with her peddler's scream
her pushcart groans from its weight
the sign she bears reads
"MONEY CAN BY YOU LUV"
strung around her neck, where age shows
and in her chest, the cancer of heartbreak grows
'cause she knows love
can be spontaneous and unpredictable
and often walks itself out the backyard gate
when eyes are turned the other way
Yet she sells love
futilely
because her eyes are wide enough
to find the love that hides
obscured behind the fake potted plants in cafes
behind the bookshelves in musty libraries
behind the dead-end job at a faceless company
behind the abandoned school building, at the door to bungalow 17B
She'll find love for you
for thirty thousand grand
'cause she knows the truth
love don't come cheap
Mar/27/2010: language
Bolder spoken, often mistook
cutting deeper than the bones you're over with
but quieter than the eyes that hold back
most of the time
You happened only once, but
you're always going
I'm always chasing to keep you
from rolling out under my tongue, to keep you
in place, rusting like a pearl in ocean dust
(while others carelessly let you leak out of open mouths
like drool during dreaming, wiped away then forgotten about
to be replaced by a commoner)
my hand is pressed over tight lips
struggling to hold you in. Like a seed to spit out
and dry in the sun, for nature to take over
and decay to settle in, you're in no hurry.
So I'll wear you as a necklace
like the rattling walnut pumpkins grade school
taught me to make safe.
Then again, I could always sling you backhand
single-handedly, over my shoulder
and keep you in my pocket
so Webster says, or maybe electronically.
cutting deeper than the bones you're over with
but quieter than the eyes that hold back
most of the time
You happened only once, but
you're always going
I'm always chasing to keep you
from rolling out under my tongue, to keep you
in place, rusting like a pearl in ocean dust
(while others carelessly let you leak out of open mouths
like drool during dreaming, wiped away then forgotten about
to be replaced by a commoner)
my hand is pressed over tight lips
struggling to hold you in. Like a seed to spit out
and dry in the sun, for nature to take over
and decay to settle in, you're in no hurry.
So I'll wear you as a necklace
like the rattling walnut pumpkins grade school
taught me to make safe.
Then again, I could always sling you backhand
single-handedly, over my shoulder
and keep you in my pocket
so Webster says, or maybe electronically.
Mar/10/2010: the view falling down
the sun rose indigo last night
I saw it through the steam in my eyes
like a little piece of heaven dying in the sky
The view from here grew wider
from where I sat the star fell closer
my pinky caught in its downward fire
tangled gravity drew a tempting dare
and I stumbled, spiraling down the moue of air
down
and down
down,down,down
windswept only towards the space, withdrawn from time
seeing in six dimensions, crossing eyes
with diamonds that wink secretly, quietly
whirling in mischief wonder, spinning projectors
painting magic on mushroomed parachutes
I floated, a picturesque, frozen infinity in motion
The stars smiled demurely. I laughed, and then they knew
what life was, to live when the view they made
was always falling down
I saw it through the steam in my eyes
like a little piece of heaven dying in the sky
The view from here grew wider
from where I sat the star fell closer
my pinky caught in its downward fire
tangled gravity drew a tempting dare
and I stumbled, spiraling down the moue of air
down
and down
down,down,down
windswept only towards the space, withdrawn from time
seeing in six dimensions, crossing eyes
with diamonds that wink secretly, quietly
whirling in mischief wonder, spinning projectors
painting magic on mushroomed parachutes
I floated, a picturesque, frozen infinity in motion
The stars smiled demurely. I laughed, and then they knew
what life was, to live when the view they made
was always falling down
Mar/1~10/2010: Smother Me
The weeds at your feet have overgrown, but you do not feel them stabbing jealously as you run fast away from the fear that chases you like a giggle in the dark; nothing can open your eyes now. Like the eyes of a grinning Cheshire, yours which once lay in wait now quiver, cowering in shame and glowing with the brilliance of the blind: the stain of faithless glass, glazed-over porcelain, mere useless pottery. The true clay of Earth extinct, wasted in the mold that grows on the backs of the leaders too greedy to sit upright.
But the hopeful children who tie their shoes too tight pray to the clay amulets worn across their hearts, and the mothers and fathers lay beside each other, wishing tomorrow will keep their children safe. Yet you are welcoming in face of danger, you feel your life is long overdue; you'd vanish by will to nothingness if not for the body they've given you. With the stitched permanence of a cheap tattoo, aging mutelessly in the wilderness, the spiked weeds do not hinder—its poison draws a warmth like no other sun.
Tomorrow to you is a passing dream, as today the present never ends. Painted like a cloud, hidden in a floundering cloak of invisibility, you've watched the wars, the lives, the dying and the dead. From weary to passive you believed you'd seen it all. But your feet keep moving, racing against the tide because in the middle, somewhere, the careless surgeons had forgotten to remove the minute moth of hope, beating its powdered wings to keep the candle burning. And the weeds that bite your soles and disappear into your bones become a lovely shivering comfort as you reach for its embrace.
But the hopeful children who tie their shoes too tight pray to the clay amulets worn across their hearts, and the mothers and fathers lay beside each other, wishing tomorrow will keep their children safe. Yet you are welcoming in face of danger, you feel your life is long overdue; you'd vanish by will to nothingness if not for the body they've given you. With the stitched permanence of a cheap tattoo, aging mutelessly in the wilderness, the spiked weeds do not hinder—its poison draws a warmth like no other sun.
Tomorrow to you is a passing dream, as today the present never ends. Painted like a cloud, hidden in a floundering cloak of invisibility, you've watched the wars, the lives, the dying and the dead. From weary to passive you believed you'd seen it all. But your feet keep moving, racing against the tide because in the middle, somewhere, the careless surgeons had forgotten to remove the minute moth of hope, beating its powdered wings to keep the candle burning. And the weeds that bite your soles and disappear into your bones become a lovely shivering comfort as you reach for its embrace.
Feb/23/2010: the sands
music of destruction plays on
maybe we could change
this imagined world
crashing in
save
in crashing
world imagined this
change could we maybe
on plays destruction of music
maybe we could change
this imagined world
crashing in
save
in crashing
world imagined this
change could we maybe
on plays destruction of music
Feb/20/2010: When the night
day is my blanket
under it I stand stubborn and cold
waiting in the darkness of my floral shell
disguising my evening smell
I do not outshine the sunlight
brightness is not my radiance
beauty is not my color
ashamed instead, I hide away
my splendor blooms in the dark
petals unfurled and blazing
colors washed in black and night
the birds and the bees lie
asleep in the trees, I do not
worry of intrusion, of criticism
under the stars I shimmer
in face of moonbeams,
I shine alone
under it I stand stubborn and cold
waiting in the darkness of my floral shell
disguising my evening smell
I do not outshine the sunlight
brightness is not my radiance
beauty is not my color
ashamed instead, I hide away
my splendor blooms in the dark
petals unfurled and blazing
colors washed in black and night
the birds and the bees lie
asleep in the trees, I do not
worry of intrusion, of criticism
under the stars I shimmer
in face of moonbeams,
I shine alone
Jan/11/2010: for want of the latter
Only in details do I exist between the lines
I provoke the images not filtered in my mind
It's just mainstream wishful thinking, withered to a husk
I am gorilla glue for broken words, an apologetic proposal
Staples and tape and sewing thread for the gazes beyond my face
and magnetic wants for tragic laughter, I couldn't help but wonder
The writing flew across the notebooks, each three pages deep
my eyes translated truths into lies, and I believed
not for want of trying, for want of the latter
The burning question led to a meandering walk
away, forward; longing for latitude in a world too narrow for knowing
Hope, indeed, was hard to kill— mine flew higher than the sun
mistaken for a lover, yet secretly a fool
There came cause for self-exile by hidden chains
clipped wings stubbornly redeemed by doubt
Had I given up or set myself free?
I provoke the images not filtered in my mind
It's just mainstream wishful thinking, withered to a husk
I am gorilla glue for broken words, an apologetic proposal
Staples and tape and sewing thread for the gazes beyond my face
and magnetic wants for tragic laughter, I couldn't help but wonder
The writing flew across the notebooks, each three pages deep
my eyes translated truths into lies, and I believed
not for want of trying, for want of the latter
The burning question led to a meandering walk
away, forward; longing for latitude in a world too narrow for knowing
Hope, indeed, was hard to kill— mine flew higher than the sun
mistaken for a lover, yet secretly a fool
There came cause for self-exile by hidden chains
clipped wings stubbornly redeemed by doubt
Had I given up or set myself free?