inspiration is a fucking cop out
I want to eat new words to add to my train of thought
no trauma or glory
only my simple words on this page
the mundane come to steel this
unsung moment
fine let it
mundane is easier to impress anyways.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Friday, August 29, 2008
Day 9
last words follow last memories
tomorrow is only the smell of leaves fading into the ground
August hasn't decided when September comes
and my fingers twist around the binding of a new book
and new philosophy
I crave the words that flow from my pen
like the tepid breeze at my back
collar popped and stiff gait
there is no such thing as a life without regrets
the finger prints of your own solemn thoughts wear me like lace to a bride
it is today that I am alive
not to just stand by and watch as others live my
life
or place me comfortably in a frame upon their wall.
isn't it a shame that she
turned out to
be what she turned out to be...
maybe barbie is what misguided my fantasies
the dryer hums in the back ground and I am lost in worlds that were once
captivating and familiar
now I am an alien to my own face
and hands
as cigarettes burn to my finger tips and sting my lungs.
tomorrow is only the smell of leaves fading into the ground
August hasn't decided when September comes
and my fingers twist around the binding of a new book
and new philosophy
I crave the words that flow from my pen
like the tepid breeze at my back
collar popped and stiff gait
there is no such thing as a life without regrets
the finger prints of your own solemn thoughts wear me like lace to a bride
it is today that I am alive
not to just stand by and watch as others live my
life
or place me comfortably in a frame upon their wall.
isn't it a shame that she
turned out to
be what she turned out to be...
maybe barbie is what misguided my fantasies
the dryer hums in the back ground and I am lost in worlds that were once
captivating and familiar
now I am an alien to my own face
and hands
as cigarettes burn to my finger tips and sting my lungs.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Day 8
Dear Sunita
How the half decade between us has found its way
through time escaping like chaff
beaten from these solitary grains.
The folds of your robe an inch in clay,
your eyes have seen countless shoots of rice
bloom and perish.
Your heart was once found softly in the
cement walls of the house you never knew;
feet that have known only dust and cobblestone.
Do you lay down in the shadow of the
brilliant temple?
Your hair matted
and with hopes that have succumbed to
the perpetual spinning of the prayer wheels.
Brace yourself for another passerby
who sees only an extension of side walk in your
charcoal eyes.
The tea has been steeping too long
and the bitter leaves paint pictures
of the fog over the foot hills on the roof
of the world.
I send you the sinews of my heart
to wrap around your failing limbs.
These strange lines of latitude
disappear as monsoon season covers
the dauntless children of the valley.
So Breath is our exit...
How the half decade between us has found its way
through time escaping like chaff
beaten from these solitary grains.
The folds of your robe an inch in clay,
your eyes have seen countless shoots of rice
bloom and perish.
Your heart was once found softly in the
cement walls of the house you never knew;
feet that have known only dust and cobblestone.
Do you lay down in the shadow of the
brilliant temple?
Your hair matted
and with hopes that have succumbed to
the perpetual spinning of the prayer wheels.
Brace yourself for another passerby
who sees only an extension of side walk in your
charcoal eyes.
The tea has been steeping too long
and the bitter leaves paint pictures
of the fog over the foot hills on the roof
of the world.
I send you the sinews of my heart
to wrap around your failing limbs.
These strange lines of latitude
disappear as monsoon season covers
the dauntless children of the valley.
So Breath is our exit...
Day 7
Double edged sword
a selected anesthetic
I hear tell
"Shame is a phenomenon
of the eyes"
Paper cut fingers
drag a numb stylus
across apologetic blue lined paper.
Naive justification
flavored in tepid words.
Opiate Caffeine
and sweet shrouded denied fire.
Life; and asphyxiation drawn
to 100 years.
Noose tightens centimeters a day
My babies dried up
like apricots
in my ovaries.
I carry the missing fortune
of a million DNA's
Siring a drowned nation
in my spaceless form.
Coffee stain rings decorate
delinquent blank lips
Sword redoubled
anesthetic peace.
a selected anesthetic
I hear tell
"Shame is a phenomenon
of the eyes"
Paper cut fingers
drag a numb stylus
across apologetic blue lined paper.
Naive justification
flavored in tepid words.
Opiate Caffeine
and sweet shrouded denied fire.
Life; and asphyxiation drawn
to 100 years.
Noose tightens centimeters a day
My babies dried up
like apricots
in my ovaries.
I carry the missing fortune
of a million DNA's
Siring a drowned nation
in my spaceless form.
Coffee stain rings decorate
delinquent blank lips
Sword redoubled
anesthetic peace.
Day 6
Tender Lesion
This light that devours like fire
springs from a barren landscape.
Opening flesh with the dagger of a singular sorrow
bearing the weight of an anguished sky.
This persistent hour of bloodless weeping
dropping past me like stone capsules
swallowed by swells pounding in my chest.
My sternum drowns like a stone exoskeleton.
Floating on the bed of this wounded heart
sleepless, I come to dream of your presence;
your touch is asphyxiation climbing the ruins of my sunken throat.
Though this naked desire seeks discretion
it is your heart that gives me depth and courage
to drink the poison of lost wisdom and passion.
Britta Nylen
This light that devours like fire
springs from a barren landscape.
Opening flesh with the dagger of a singular sorrow
bearing the weight of an anguished sky.
This persistent hour of bloodless weeping
dropping past me like stone capsules
swallowed by swells pounding in my chest.
My sternum drowns like a stone exoskeleton.
Floating on the bed of this wounded heart
sleepless, I come to dream of your presence;
your touch is asphyxiation climbing the ruins of my sunken throat.
Though this naked desire seeks discretion
it is your heart that gives me depth and courage
to drink the poison of lost wisdom and passion.
Britta Nylen
Day 5
This tempest of a night
This fever
Licking my spine
a tide
Rising and falling upon every centimeter
Of this your chest.
I will devour your
Preconceived notions
Of this cinnamon spice and everything nice.
You will taste the compensation
Of surrender and lust
In my own womb.
Your tongue painting every syllable
Of the holy books. Over my mouth
my hand and my feet.
We will
Write our own book of love and lies.
Of religion and false pretenses.
We will write of our own
Night terrors of the fusion
Of two bodies with the midnight moon.
A psalm of fear and trembling before
Gods that we never knew, Gods that drink the resin
Of our labored sweat as sacrifice.
Let us unwind from your ears
A a a a a song
Peppered with notes of pleasure seeking
Pain and pain exacting pleasure.
There is no safety in my arms
Only the abandon of
An untimely natural disaster.
Map your devastation or conquests from
My hip to lip and toes to thigh.
Bury me in you; inescapable undertow.
Pulling me farther and farther
From a love that is prudent
To a love that demands our parallel combustion.
Breast to breast implosion
Breathless
Nuclear fallout
Parallel explosion as in a super nova
Your atoms my atoms
We are the big bang theory
This fever
Licking my spine
a tide
Rising and falling upon every centimeter
Of this your chest.
I will devour your
Preconceived notions
Of this cinnamon spice and everything nice.
You will taste the compensation
Of surrender and lust
In my own womb.
Your tongue painting every syllable
Of the holy books. Over my mouth
my hand and my feet.
We will
Write our own book of love and lies.
Of religion and false pretenses.
We will write of our own
Night terrors of the fusion
Of two bodies with the midnight moon.
A psalm of fear and trembling before
Gods that we never knew, Gods that drink the resin
Of our labored sweat as sacrifice.
Let us unwind from your ears
A a a a a song
Peppered with notes of pleasure seeking
Pain and pain exacting pleasure.
There is no safety in my arms
Only the abandon of
An untimely natural disaster.
Map your devastation or conquests from
My hip to lip and toes to thigh.
Bury me in you; inescapable undertow.
Pulling me farther and farther
From a love that is prudent
To a love that demands our parallel combustion.
Breast to breast implosion
Breathless
Nuclear fallout
Parallel explosion as in a super nova
Your atoms my atoms
We are the big bang theory
Monday, August 25, 2008
Day 4
A house to place
the collapsing stars
the collapsing stars
left too far west
of the brilliant city
Faces claiming wrinkles
like trophies and petrified candy.
Tacones;
red lipstick
no one questioned their
clever bobs and pearl earings.
It was on Tuesday Maggie
opened Pandora's box of
pin up memories.
The paint curling off the pages
and peeling off her eyes.
Seeing things that were
once brass plated and shiny
like a freak show.
Come stare at the lasting
shades of VanGough's night....
peculiar desire to sever
Extremities such as ears or noses.
Pressed between the window panes
someone lost the bud
of their youth
only distorted glass reflections
will come to taunt
remember when's...
one last word from Johnny Cash
and the leaning hearts
fell into house arrest.
close all the windows
the crickets left
to mourn the missing sound
of black pumps in empty halls.
Day 3
Quaking pen
exposing mute
fears
Gun Barrel to paper
I am captive to these
shouting words
Write Me
Compulsive
like an addiction
Scribbling
Erasing
Scribbling
Write Me
inconvenient truths
betray
between confined lines
Words stripped Naked
Confessions or Suicide?
exposing mute
fears
Gun Barrel to paper
I am captive to these
shouting words
Write Me
Compulsive
like an addiction
Scribbling
Erasing
Scribbling
Write Me
inconvenient truths
betray
between confined lines
Words stripped Naked
Confessions or Suicide?
Friday, August 22, 2008
Day~2
tran·si·tion [tran-zish-uhn] : movement,
or change from one position, state,
stage, subject, concept, etc., to another; change:
Vodka bludgeon falling down
syphoning air in one blow.
No safety,
only a precedence of strangers
becoming less familiar
and known faces that pin you down
by the back of the throat.
Roots you never asked for
and love you can not conjure.
Welcome train take me home.
or change from one position, state,
stage, subject, concept, etc., to another; change:
Vodka bludgeon falling down
syphoning air in one blow.
No safety,
only a precedence of strangers
becoming less familiar
and known faces that pin you down
by the back of the throat.
Roots you never asked for
and love you can not conjure.
Welcome train take me home.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Day 1
Ella
A crescent of orange and peel
all shadowed by the days before yesterday
your heart
the orange blossom
falling viscid pollen
Noche
Midnight full
with a wine moon
the golds of harvest cling
to the ends of your tangled hair
Crumbled as rust;
The men that see
your face
so fragile and stone set
Sabanas Rojas
In cotton sheets
you quench stars and
ignite skies
to burn a Phoenix
with your hip,
your lip,
your tongue
Sudor
How they drink you
as to absinthe
quiet and overwhelmed poison
building your silhouette
searing their minds.
Fog Settles in your eyes
your skin is earth
your eyes are sky
taunting decaying streets.
When all have left
your bed your walls
still burn
ripe oranges.
Lets Get Started
To be great you have to be good
To be good you have to be bad
to be bad you have to make mistakes
to make mistakes you have to start
Lets get started!
So I decided to post a poem a day...not so sure how it will go.
Happy reading.
To be good you have to be bad
to be bad you have to make mistakes
to make mistakes you have to start
Lets get started!
So I decided to post a poem a day...not so sure how it will go.
Happy reading.
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