...of my discontent

the inevitable lack of grace
with which i plunge into
the depth of my emotions
is the reason i struggle against my words
as they hold me down
quite unlike a lover would

make perpetual questions out of lonely answers
lonelier still, though the rhythm of what is and what if
makes waves in the sickly complacent ripple of when, never, how

when never how
echoes of here and now
only time and passing glances allow

taste it
i dare you
before i spill my wasted discontent all over everything i knew
taste my
favorite
flavor
before it spoils in my rancor

right now

happiness

is not on the bottom of my shoe, or a bottle,
or a phase,
nor
under the words i heard myself say, in a daze,
or in place
of my
face
or the lack of grace i entertain,
time
and time
and time again
and when how why do i
make such
incoherent lies
or utter
fake
sighs

('cause
when i spy
with my little eye
something that is
so real
i can't
bear
to
feel
it,
i don a disguise
the one
that
makes fake plays, sideways
lost in a freak maze,
turns the wrong way
again
and
again)


and i speak
nothings
freely
and weakly
ask me
i'll speak free
of nothing,
don't believe me

i knew what i was talking about,
once.
and seem to deny it ever since.
but my truth
left
prints
that consistently convince
me
that all else
is a
waste
of
time

so i resign
from my position
as
ignorantly blissed out
right
now

the sum of these parts equals nothing i recognize

i am not the stupid little things i do
(sometimes, i'm just stupid
while you remain you)

i am passion, and laughing,
at times distracted from enchantment
by the mildly wicked pull
of the moment

i love. it's true,
the sense of wildly inspired desire
is a ruse

melodramatics
amusement
a failure to thrive

a string of things
denying truth
and
life

making me
a cacophony
of something i am not
which is not
all
i've
got
(endlessness
in my pocket)

order's up

the discovery of freedom is a
feeling not an
action
if you act, it loses passion
becomes 'something you tried'

make nothing happen
just inspire
and decide

climb the magic carpet
and enjoy the ride

which way is up

it's too easy to say one thing
too stupid to say another
caught in the midst of nothing-made-something
or something made nothing
this nothing
of something
is everything's
one thing
a mess of things, only made good by sitting back watching
and i am inclined to enjoy
the game
the toy
but the false sense of 'owning'
is clearly,
not
the objective.


i make waking seem intense
admit to a sense of purpose
in a seemingly purposeless activity
a clear attempt at enjoyment
that i fully enjoyed, don't get me wrong
i am a freak of uninhibited nature
that makes space
for
deliciousness

the middle

essence is

language leaves space for myth
as does everything else

my wholehearted belief in the
infinite brilliant blue of the sky
may be shared by you
initiating connection
but your perception of blue may actually
be my green
which you or i could, sadly, never know

perhaps that is irrelevant, though

what happens, happens

of course i write it.
we all do.
in a aimless haze of naivety
armed with invisible ink
we 'think'
(make a drink)
and pacify our notion that there
is no pen
in our hand
by demanding the truth must be tangibly seen
and therefore, we must not have written

it can be seen
one must know what they are looking for
otherwise one will never see

reading glasses will never help one see far away

i feel the pen in my hand
i know the words are there
i have understood their existence
as my explanation of fate

now: to stop my involuntary stream of consciousness from
pouring all over the page in uncensored chaos
and
determine the consequences of it

then
find a pen
with black ink

not red

nom de plume

incomprehensible am i
when i try to fly knowing falling is fate
then i fail to fall knowing trying is flying

silence, screaming
i whisper the best parts
in the wrong ears

and always the story no one hears
is the one scribbled on the
back of the action
i took instead

even i do not know
if backs break
or wings grow
in the end.
i've never read that far

muse

this is the story
that no one
reads
this is the reason
it keeps
being
written

impossible: to gain the knowledge of explicitly and truly inside you
or me or any other random bit of 'humanity' we call a person
(you = anyone but me)

hide and seek, anyone?

sure, i'll play
i seem to say

but before we begin,
we've got to decide who's
it.

who seeks
and who hides?

does the hider actually enjoy hiding really well?
or is the anticipation of being found the REAL excitement.

does the seeker enjoy the seeking,
or more the moment of victory?
see, the thing about finding the last person is that
after that point
the seeker is not 'it'
anymore

and it is a whole new game

and at what
point does a hider realize
if the seeker has stopped looking
for them?

...have they just hidden so well
that the seeker is left with no options
but to give up?

maybe the hider thought they were playing hide and seek
when really
it was tag
and the dumbass is actually supposed to be chasing people, instead of
sitting up in a tree all day long.

maybe the seeker got tired wandering around seeking, and decided to take a little power nap?

maybe the hider is an idiot, and was actually 'it' themselves?

perhaps the seeker got pissed off,
'cause they didn't want to be the seeker in the first damn place,
they wanted to play cops and robbers, actually
but no one would listen.
and so now
the seeker has stopped playing completely
in hopes
the hiders
will just get tired and go home.

maybe the seeker was counting to a hundred,
got to eighty-four,
and suddenly remembered what they were supposed to be doing instead
of playing hide and seek
and totally bailed on the game
leaving the idiot hiding

waiting to be found

unaware the seeker is now at home
making dinner. (or doing laundry. or playing cops and robbers...)

they say those who remain hidden the longest
are considered the best players.
but perhaps sometimes,
they are just ignorant to what is going on around them..
(like...it's pitch black out, and you've heard no sign of life for quite some time...well, except that rustling in the bush just behind you...oh, and that somewhat creepy growling noise to your left..)

but goddammit,
this game is not called
"hide for no reason while no one seeks".
and if you can't trust that the asshole seeker isn't actually LOOKING
then,
can you even play?
(or maybe,
that's part of 'the excitement'?)
simple childhood game, my ass.

i would much rather play truth or dare

damn hot

for some reason,
at some point,
she slammed doors
(was cold, or fed up, i'm sure)

misplaced her jacket, her senses, what have you

but in the cold, empty room
(which was, actually, less empty
with just her in it)
a moment came where
she did find warmth.

in fact
it was
damn
hot
in that one spot,
where the sun shone directly
through
that
window

'...do i...stay?' said she,
still slightly reeling from her tantrum of late,
hearing nothing but the echoes of her words off the walls

now,
lack of light
(sunset?)
has made
everything
very
dark
as lack of light does...

she inevitably questions the intensity
of the sun,
moon, and stars
which still hang in the sky
beyond all the doors
she'd shut
(and the window she could not)

contemplates which exit might
face the sun,
illuminate night
though darkness precedes morning, right...so..

dish, spoon, whatever

want to
yank
the tablecloth
out
from under
every
little
thing

(and to not bleed all over shards of broken glass
on my way to get what is left standing..

is that asking too much?)

(part one...)

ignite

skin-lit fire dives in
like some
undefined beginning
i spin
my grin
makes everything enchant me
i can't see
past
wishes
you
grant me
i believe i'm set free
i do..

inside
some you
was a piece of me
i
couldn't
see

my thrill,
you spill
anticipation all over me like i was born to wear it
and i stare it
down
till it lights..

will it? it absolutely might

all my might

i never nibble, always bite
make mistakes
with all
my might

but keep replacing real with 'where?'
(i'll find it
really..
sure..
i swear..)

i look under
random things
inside
my
house,
(under my wings)

expect a spark
incite a breath
inspire
myself
to
certain
death

i try
to fly
try feel the sky
with several foolish alibis

but i've seen sure
i've known
i've been
so why check under there, again?

it's moving day
put what GOES where.
find pieces, notice
why you care

you'll see it waiting, sitting there

dust settles
i don't
(i will i might i did?)

i won't

tasted

absolutely high
in spite of the sigh

making trails of tales in
sugary syrup

dieing for a taste

of that space

sweet definitive deliciously
will i?

up to the sky
or the latent
unbroken
sigh.

but i still recognize
the lie....

(last night's knowing haunts and taunts,
still..)

stupid little toy

this one spun of wild unabridged actions attractions reactions
she was never a hider
till spiders they crawled up beside her
(she, eating her words and prey)

fear admits mistakes in the truth's wake, sadly, promotes fake
and the girl
always
just
spoke
though sometimes
in riddles and jokes
mirrors, smoke,
were a foreign idea

she's a banshee of spirit
instantly unwise and raw at once
and the only saving grace in that,
is her agility in keeping real
though called upon fools to feel,
is the only sane in a chaos that incidentally, she should enjoy

now,
the leftover sickly scent of
the last impression
(perhaps of lies unmentioned)
is severing the cord to life's joy
regret: a
stupid
little
toy
no one cared to play with before
...until she became bored
tragic
plastic habits came seeping in the cracks, she'll smack herself then,
is that why, or when?
how what where...
why in
hell
does
anyone
care
to make a fool of real?

don't assume how she feels
or steal it away to make
some sick orchestrated play on words
what you heard
is perception (yours)
faulty reception (also yours)

this one spun of no-matter-what just say it
is trembling now silent
a sad day
to play
in this sandbox

spent

the flicker of wings and other things
were a story i told,
a fancy
to hold.

some bills i stole
from an unmonitored pocket
(forgot to lock it, i guess)

all those bills
add up
to millions.. inevitably.

sugar high

too much too hot to the touch it is
undermining the worth of defining
everything me

i might see

but clarity comes second to free
in this moment
is how
and crosses out now
for my sanity to remain intact
(however vision blacked, it has to)

i throw the last thing in the closet and slam the door before it all falls out..

for now,
for right right now this second
i'll spin desires more assuredly made
of candy
in the wake/weak of obsolete

anger
escape
anticipation
indulgence
freedom
diversion
hunger
all of the above

wet my lips
ride raw incessant
ecstatic
breath
away

'cause that moment
is a taste
i have
acquired

instant desire

gratified

sounds like fun

who cares

i look both ways on the road
to nowhere
with the sound of nothing
in one ear
and out the other
completely covered
with the vulnerability
of being
some other
girl

in her defense
she's stupid,
i'm sure

favorite flavor

so deliciously innocent
the taste that flickers it

i am spun from
whatever
makes
me
laugh

my eyes do not seek sight
they observe
in flattering light

i drink fire and smile

glide for miles

all i've ever

fear makes everything true
when there's nothing else to do

i wake (in a dream that
choreographs fate,
the type you create)
groggy and confused
then,
amused,
find clues
in lost laughter

which
is
all
i've
ever
been
after

no thrill in a chase
when chasing the thrill
so i sit still
and laugh

i shut no doors
yet i feel no draft..

shaky, uncertain terms

want is an apocalyptic word
seldom heard as a promise
always sung

and the lost syllables are always the loudest
in some shaky, uncertain terms they squirm
unfounded in illimitable meaning
free falling through some entangled 'once upon a time'
trying to peek out of rhyme

gently i go treading here
like never i do

the lack of distraction is the action i don't act
in fact
want is the word for what i do not
i've got
too much in my pocket now
to find change eas(il)y
stop teasing me...

do i even mean it, any of it..

what does anything deemed meaningful mean
defined, or mine, or spineless, or
blind
divine.. inspired.. discovered in time..??

well,
i don't have all day

unreal

stand back i'm
not intact i'll
fall apart the minute you're in it,
i spin it in my mind
and find
the inside
a stranger

knowing nothing,
i make a wager
a bet
the stage sets
(by a round of applause..
..how did that feel?)

real?

what the hell is that

real...
may as well speak french
or eat eel
'cause i know 'real' just as well..
i can't tell
the mirage from the hallucination
and now step with trepidation into some blank page (i swear i wrote on)
the words now all gone

the pen in my hand
is deadly
unplanned
silence

don't you know i'm armed? dangerous?
my life's work, to traumatize bliss
and make madness exist
at every page's end

i want to play pretend
but keep forgetting: I AM.

stand back
my pieces are real
and might hurt when they hit
but just for a minute

nowhere near

can't fake a lack of space
if there is none,
there is none.

nobody told me so
i just know
and space won't grow
it fills
and then some.

crazy is as crazy does
what is, was
in a afterglow of because

guess what
the air is not clear
nowhere near
'cause i see,
i hear

irrelevant by default, or fear

a lack of space faked is a barely awake state
that i can't afford
or paste
over my already over indulged (in)sense-(of)ability to fall

and so
i do nothing
at all
but watch one stall

absolutely yes

i crave the answer
by feeling the question
unknowing touch making echoes in the maze
remember a gaze
clearer than most days

make light of the dark as a million sighs
and no more
when the sound
is not
the point
it is the feel of the question
and the answer again and again
the scent of the craving
and then
the stain

the color of rain

not so plain...

stupid..

my sentiments are
better
unsaid
they are
uninhibited
and folded in
my
lap.

stupid
too

corrected and jaded

distraction from a lack of happenstance
left wonder in breathing
and me seething at the circumstance
(now)
make a last glance
where nothing
beats something
(and how)
in this hand

and i stand corrected and jaded
satiated
unrated and sky high
in the perfect lie
bewilderment dries on the wall
leaving all
but
my
fingerprints
(go ahead,
squint.
they'll still be there)

being

who has the means to render speechless the
blazing flame that is
mine
and some line (drawn where?)
is now
lost
in my hair

i didn't put it there

who cares, i'm speechless

mission aborted

some girl
went out with a mission
came back from fishing
(all were thrown back)

some girl had bleary eyes
and a lack of why
attracting sighs

she runs hard to the finish
forgets her wings
and trips on pebbles

some girl has a sick smile
makes jokes out of her gaze
and the tune she plays
(it was yours, but she forgets the chorus)

if you would just make noise..
the silence would fill
with the right sound.

but you won't

create your own reality

love potion number twenty-two is a placebo
it appears a murky clouded hue with thick syrupy consistency
tastes of swedish bitters
it hits one's tongue with mild sweet flavor at first
does not go down too smoothly
and burns at the pit of one's gut for days

love potion number twenty-two is made of
unopened letters written on leaves by fairies

love potion number twenty-two is not fast acting and
does not have analgesic properties
leaves an
unidentified taste

latency unknown

shine is relative

written august 21/07

do i know this language
or have i spoken the words no one ever says

am i a reason why
or a synonym for why not to

have i been patient
or irrelevant

is this an open book test
or a delusional tripped journey into the amygdala

(look up don't trip and fall)

i've stared into the sun before..

satisfy

written january 25/07

rampant inspired wicked desire
is not even what i feel
damn this i want to be tortured it seems by unprecedented insanity
i want not i waste not, i taste, i run dry amidst uninhibited lies
sit in amicable places feeling broken, waiting for unspoken bullshit

and the way it is glares out at me like an angry troll
the way it has been makes how it is

does life make sense, when you take what it's been
and roll it into again and again?

if a crow flies east, does it know about south

if a girl draws lines, does she leave stuff out

if sticks ignite flame, then what,
don't consider the heat?

rampant inspired wicked desire
is so much easier to satisfy
than
what it is

i know the insane nature of my emotion

question black
or not...
pay for what you got
a bittersweet taste i would not turn away

although it's so gray
and unforgiving

however you fly

please grow wings
make an escape
before the thought is thoroughly raped
take one last look around the dark
before it evades you

its absence shall not be
because you have flown

it is
simply
filling
with
light

i, free, with no fight

with all my might
i let
go

maybe yes

make love to an afterthought
likeness of a phase
made brazen
by once said, once heard
squirming silent scream lying wielding trying
weapons of weakness hold millions of wanderings
this way that way you don't say

want to end the beginning of nothing before it is all there is

tangibly evident?
maybe

is not enough

who equals what (allow where when why)

i stand
in no uncertain terms
rock petulantly shaking underneath
in any and all particular fashions
more loose than a tooth less useful than aloof

i gamble the intention of my mind
make worse fates from what i find
unnerving
disturbing the soft cloud from a drifted nowhere

past actions lack the sense of two cents
hold the density of expense
wise eyes are open
sheer and clear merely stands in the way
it's just words.. or days.. or sways
in a pile of me i pray
some unspeakable say
that someone pretended to mean
is not
even
clean

make it a so what
before it's an uncut myth

it's all about one
not two or the sun or a deal done

can't it be all ready already
..it CAN

one must stand
in no uncertain terms
to get the particular fashion

(i keep you in the back pocket for knowing what i know)

and sometimes
you
show

but i = know
not no

random beats a plan

i step into tender grass gently
prints of my feet lay not so neat beneath the
evidence of your sense of my breath

tend lightly to the scent of again
softly whistle to to the tune of when


my heart is space not wasted
still faced where embrace is a victim of stillbirth
as tumbling walls of jade become jewels of newborn light
night tumbles and falls
as wandering calls make depth breed wonder
you over, me under
i go nowhere but asunder when eyes tear thunder into the each of the other and
wait


stillness thickly hangs

speaking soundless words is a trait once heard by no-thing resembling (f)ears but she
is not always aware of the little scare
(s)he shares miles of green turns mean and screams senseless when
whisper is more curdling

wildflowers say they grow but the wild is a noun and the verb is a glow and how so

a current is right now
and electric
intense pressure
and this flame is questioned by a wave
all signs point to
whatever you already knew
there are no clues

spoken word

a rhythm sways
but my body stays
and nothing like this i have seen

i rise too quick my soul made sick by the
dizzy (so dizzy) i'm given

whatever, the blaze
in the words of a phrase make such
light out of darkness and thicket
(i'm out of it in it)

you say
i sigh
but the light is aligned
with a world
that i know
you
possess

i know nothing
i guess

(i highlight the mess?)

twice, that's it

the belief that i have believed in an illusion is an illusion
right?

your eyes were not meant to arise
mine found comfort in hiding

but
there
you
were

making yourself sure

and there i was
thinking why? ..oh, i know, because..

your skin would taste just like you

your mind would challenge my truth

the sight of you is a wicked muse

damn you

i know

discovery
is fifth to none
i'm not done
keep finding some sense of one
inside a facade of nothingness

it's 4 am
and i must be full
of what..?
i want to say i don't know,
but i do.
so i can't.

why do you still appear
with a wing
and a spark
when you are dark

i shook the box
it doesn't matter
it echoes, the rattle

i keep finding you even though i've stopped looking

nothing

i
want
to
climb
into a warm, cuddly lie
dive head first into the blank space
between
self destruction
and
brazen apathetic rampage

but the button is broken

figures

the wrong turn

live wires spit fire
all over my face
my place
regarding the race
is last
although fast
i do not
break
the ribbon

nothing is a given

..sullen, stupid girl..

pants on fire

i sigh
this high
keeps me in spin

the flutter by
is still
your grin

infatuation
wears one thin

are you just code for heroin

the earth has 100 lightning strikes per second

i fall restless and uneven
into a pile of forgotten sleep
and keep remembering
the flicker of wings
and other things

things that fly do not come to you unless you are willing to stand very still
and they are trying to tell you something

was the evidence planted

do i let you collect dust now

grrrrrrr

why??

why NOT??

how? what? where?

WHEN??????

sigh...

end of the beginning

the scent of what i meant is ecstatically possible
everything is at the tail end of nothing
this long hallway of what-if and when
ends
somewhere
in a pool of light

one day
there is no fight
just sweet tasting light
and
kisses

hope..

i have dreams of letting go
where i turn to gold

i have passions of grand proportion
and you are in them
whole souled

i have dreams
of fire-stuff
they
float
along
my
skin
and
get
in
.

and i wonder if
i hope i don't have to fold

best laid

i've got words for it, i just don't use them
what difference have words made
except to wear me out
and make doubt
and leave space where words were once best laid

there is no word to explain what may pertain here
unclear
that one might work
it might hurt
it might lurk
i might spend all of time making sure to insert
the appropriate frustration into my next million thoughts

it's all misled and unforaged
unchartered, discouraged
i watch myself nurture
this sense of not perfect
when it hardly seems worth it
there's too many words, it's
not there
it's just wordless

i won't say a word anymore

right out of your mouth..

i am awake

and

it kinda sucks

'cause

i know

how i feel

and it's

absolutely

encompassing


i drank you

and

the after taste

is

perpetual

and

foreshadowing

i

want

more

even though

your

eyes

are everything.

though my hunger

will

move

your arms,

your hunger

will

move

them quicker

olly olly oxen free

i find
bits of remnant kiss in my hair
but i don't care
because
the sigh is not there

discovery rampantly reminds me
the fish
in the
sea
swim shallowly

my fear of deep
this awareness asleep
yanks the hook out prematurely
but it's still early
no worry

ready or not
(here i) come..

i'll stop hiding
and seeking now

..what i said

admitting how i feel about you
is like

"my name is .....
and i'm an alcoholic"

butterflies and lightning

you make me think
you make me stop and shake my head.. laugh.. want to scream.. wonder.. investigate.. wait
you make words drive me.. flicker laughter through me like fire and smile
i hear you.. you find some me i used to know
...i don't hear a word.. and i know
i see you.. i stare and for nothing i recognize.. only because i can't stop

i don't know why you exist, i know exactly why
i don't think you're real

i don't think i would have to see you to feel you

you are there and i can't focus, breathe, turn away
but i can't stay
my body is alive with the sense of yours (dazed with presence graced)
there is tangible evidence in the space between us
made of butterflies
and lightning

if this is why you run
i understand

who i am could all but fit into you
i know
if your light didn't blind me so
if you didn't go

who we are could make sense from slow

the question

yes

yes i do

so much

it is making holes in my brain

begging me to breathe black

tearing me new eyes from downcast sighs

quenching me with more thirst
less sight

less will, more might

i am sick of your terms

the answer is yes

but only because it is no

all of the above

are you a brick wall
am i your downfall
anything at all

i open my mouth
and you are not
in it
and i can't begin it

laying awake in this
feverish sleep

i never said it would hurt
you did

awake is the new hate

i hate you
and the sound of everything i can't see
you
drive
me
to

the needle
the haystack
the no-one-else-is sudden flashback

ignorant blissful me is dead
she sucked on the sweetness
of frivolousness
and it was tasting mighty fine

now it's sickening
the lingering of stale sweat
a hole filled while soul is chilled
void of all passion of the brain yes the brain

all things intriguing have turned
sour
in
your
breath
and you are holding your damn breath
why do I turn blue?!

you tainted my view

i hate hate hate you

blind me
cover my face.

obliterate

erase.

backspace..

i hate
..so fake,
inspired lie
rests angrily on my lips
moves my hips
drives me
to

where is the sound of you
i
can't
see

let it be

i hate
you

a reasonable facsimile

though i see the sky
for its lightning descent
and all it meant
stars
all
in
line
like mine,
though i asked for nothing
and received more
got giddy off not-sure
words
in
all
ways
my gaze,

arms outstretched
i let it slide off my fingertips
in drips
dissolve into an air of don't-care
that is not there

a cloud of dust
if you must

this is so damn sick! trust?
i wander, lust
and when i stop
my grip becomes deathly
and
no
need
can
breathe
deeply
to grow

who actually knows?
me
or
the magic eight ball

and

are they one and the same
anyway

game is on
who's even here
or gone
who belongs

who sings this song

fish, sea, whatever

waves of sullen grace attempted to replace me
the tornado was still at my heels
for a while
..but a wink
and a smile
find me self indulgently insane again
feels like home

and when i read the news
became clear on just whose clues my brain arranged
sullen grace
seemed
faceless

but it's my
claim to shame
that faces blame
and i run from it now
as if feet could make difference in how
i
f#*ked
up

i read lips
and they purse like mine
make sound
drink wine

fish, sea, whatever
there are more crooked holes for me to fit
i'm sure of it

i won't admit
i won't


love is the irrelevance that counts
i guess

impatiently i shook the box and the prize dropped out
smashing all over the floor

"but now i see" (was blind)

i am free
of the you
i thought
i knew

this stupid
silly
thing
i do..

i sing
the things
that no one grew

sketch
a scene
nobody
drew.

knew nothing of a fire
until all things paper began to burn

nothing like her

i heard no word it was thunder
lightning
and
wonder

speak free sweet nothings said
reply
with eyes

real is what fools call upon to feel
while my lips struggle
to form a
last
appeal

i, dazed with presence graced
had space made where i laid
and lost me

saw her wander out cloudlessly towards
the edge i told her
not
to
go
she didn't know? did so
yet here's her bitter shell to show
inaccurate dizziness
in place of a way better mess

but a lack
of word
found her, fast
she turned back
and gasped

parachute

uncertain twilight hits your face
melt me
in place
quite unspeakable space

i follow the light: take one step too far
is it hard
where you are
do i even make sure...

she follows the light: it pokes fun at the sky
of a wonder
and why
it makes everything lie

the length of the light is following me
through dreams
i can't see
and girls i can't be
if i fall make it free
and gracefully
let the world wonder why. let it try

it's completely what you think

moving day.

the law of attraction says
i am my worst enemy

and want is a filthy disguise

and silken yearnings, lies

the law of attraction
is merely
waiting
for
me

wanting to shake me free

sorry miss, it's time to go....soon

the chill of a fading thrill is not worth pining, still
somehow the down coat is adorned
she was warned
but a fool makes excuses, and
drools exclusively on her own pillow
her will, though, is as strong as her might
she will?
she might.
either way, wrong or right
clarity spells apathy and missed sight
it's last call
and the millionth round of some fight
and the end of some night

so drink
one
more?

sure

no thing is still air (therefore some thing)

i sit here
and make reference before excuse after reason
followed by denial
(make fun of a smile)

decriminalize the extent of my fear
fake a bitter laugh
while a sick crushing intent turns frankenstein
and makes light of what i meant
makes dark of the scent it craved

then i find some me
a memory-intrigued me
i stand here while i sit there
look over and stare

last night's nevernever land
or some foreign brand of fate

illusion or circumstance
be careful what you wish for?

i step back from the edge
try to make jokes about jumping
look down, feel nothing
it's much
much
easier

rough sketch

the dust hangs
eyes glaze
to stare intently at a maze
doesn't plot escape.

pretend it's highly delicate.
it's shaded lightly
intricate
the nuances made relevant
so no one
no one
touches
it

the art from tortured spirit shakes
shackles break the spirit's wake
and make a date with stop and wait.
this canvas makes for your escape

think i don't see the whole picture do i
or see through the true lie

the pretentiousness is indiscreet
flowers grow at all our feet...
the rough sketch is not complete
and i'd rather see it real than neat

oh it's you.
under
the glaze the dust the maze the flower's gaze.

always knew that anyways

still life (the other)

what the....

i tripped
didn't fall
barely hurt myself at all

maybe a scrape
or two.

speak without meaning
trace it make space for it then cross it out
this speechlessness that thrills me
somebody make it go
(somebody kiss it better)
somebody, make it go
away


coat this fascination-turned-whole in dull paint
in order to willingly see finish lines
find time
to forget

it's cold, i'm bored, there's more

stupid is as stupid does
what is, already was

damn.

yeah, there's more blood than i said

i lied

act your age

in 'truth
dare
double dare
promise to repeat'

i always thought
'promise to repeat'
was the stupidest
thing
ever.

does saying
'i love
(fill in the blank with the 'uncoolest' guy everyone in grade four knows)
and want to have his babies'
make
it
true?

no.
it doesn't.

is it really that hilarious
to make someone say
they feel
a way
that they
actually
don't?

no
it's not

and
a dare
is just
doing something
you don't
really
want to do
'cause someone else wants you to

and truth


just


hurts

fascination makes you deaf

imagination makes you wild

motivation
breaks
the
seal

hunger pushes and shoves

and loves

i know one thing......

sublime makes me happy :)

for my birthday, universe, i want.....

(???????)

(maybe i'll know what i want, when i get it)

i do deeply dig

mmmmm hoola la

i still move
to a
ghost
beat.

sweet
murky
dirt
under my feet

crawls in and i begin

you are: HERE

if you are here
because some crazy lady
with *panties removed*
told you to be here,
don't listen to her.

(she's whacked, trust me, i know her well)

well
i
thought i knew her, anyways.....

do it

tell me something
i don't already know.

(make me feel
a
way
i
don't
already
feel)

then
i
will
be
enraptured

enraptured: enamored, enchanted, ensorcelled, entranced, fascinated

(caution: you may not know you already do this to me)

hypothetically/typically

say there was a room full of 100 people that i could 'select' a 'romantic interest' from. (yeah, i know. stupid choice of words but what can i say. they work)

now, say 99 of them were emotionally confident, intimacy oriented people.
and let's say that one person who was left was...shall we say....emotionally insecure and intimacy fearing.

*i, without knowing who was who, would, without fail, instinctively choose the ONE with the issues.*

isn't that nice.

not a poem. it's just written like one. (or, expect nothing, ever.)

i know better than to
expect
or focus on things too much
but i do it anyway

then it doesn't work out, and
i am not surprised

but then
usually

when all expectations have been washed away
by the bitter wave of disappointment

i find myself having an amazing time
doing whatever it is i do
instead of what i had expected to do.

NOW
the question is:

knowing that this usually happens,
have i ruined it
by expecting it to happen???

(damn universe)

f#*k that (and other epiphanies)

go ahead, be a mystery
a delicacy.
unravel me.
i won't argue
or interfere
or steer clear.

however

i don't excavate
commiserate
hesitate

i don't wait

and wait
and wait

i don't *try* pry open the oyster
i don't *ponder* the pearl

so you are
who you are
and i like
what i like
and i don't care
if i am supposed to *wait*
to actually see the blue
that i know has helped make the green
that is visible

'cause the only one
deciding i should *wait*
is me

f#*k that

i want what i want
and you're it
or not

don't care if you're *it*
under that pile of laundry
i am not doing your laundry
to find out.

or....

i am going to sit
right
here.

and not move

an inch.

and if i end up moving,
it will only be
because

of a natural disaster

or.....

other people's words sometimes say it best

you got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em,
know when to walk away, know when to run

you never count your money when you're sittin' at the table
there'll be time enough for countin' when the dealin's done...

The Gambler, Kenny Rogers

eureka! &stuff

i was reading the post from a couple days ago and...well....

'and then, i end up fearing getting excited about the fact that i got (whatever it is i wanted), because what if my lack of detachment chases it away?'

*clears throat*
oh....
right.

that's what i did.......

'lacked detachment'

great

lay still, don't breathe

she blissfully *glew*
in
a world
suddenly manifest

a tangible piece of unsuspecting light
came crashing into a vacant, unarmed space
a something
once
nothing.

nothing:
never.

madly,
she
fell
but
shhh
don't
tell

now,
her
eyes
are
blind.
who sees?

step away from the vehicle, put your hands over your head
drop
dead

apathy on her sleeve
maybe

you have the right to remain
silent.
some 'right'


(cheers to p, who blissfully glew,
and to t, who knows nothing is always something)

'what you focus on, expands.'

my dad used to say that as often as breathing. it is permanently etched into my brain. i think about it a lot. i put it into practice. i tell people about it. i see it, bouncing about in my head..... seriously. i'm sure he's happy to hear that i actually remember something he said.....for once....!!

and: it even works.
especially when you remember not to focus on the WANTING of something, but to focus on the 'something' that you actually want, so that you don't end up more desperately wanting it....

like, say i want apples...
and so, i say: 'i really really really want apples. want want want them. man, what i wouldn't do for apples....dammit, i am tortured by the want for the apples.'

guess what expands? the want.

now this is the part where i lose it. what, exactly, are you supposed to say in order to make the apples expand? (you know what i mean.)
i'm not clear on this, and when i have made it work, it's almost by accident.

so, you just focus on 'apples'?
YES, and this is tricky. you need to detach from the apples. feel no emotion towards them. meaning, forget that you want them.

forget that you want them????

okay so, sometimes i think about that and it actually makes me angry. if i sit around trying to not want something, in order to get it, where's the joy in getting it.....?????

really. how stupid that i have to not give a crap about something, in order to get it.

and then, i end up fearing getting excited about the fact that i got it, because what if my lack of detachment chases it away?

it's dumb, convoluted, and nerve wracking.

but, it works...that's what keeps me coming back to it....
i think i'm still missing something though. (there's another thing i'm sure my dad would be happy to hear me admit...!!)

i guess i probably shouldn't focus on what i am missing, though.

2.

do people even f#*king know when you're talking about them??

hard to say

i retire to wasted space
enchanted but at
no
quick
pace,

remind myself it's not the glow
(and not as slow
as you might go)

still, i know not
what
you know.

your brain contains what?
hard to say
but i'll imagine, play by play,
and it'll make my
rainy
day. (no matter how unsaid you lay)

what's hard to say
makes hard to do,
but harder
doesn't
get
past
you.....

(could be so much fun it's true)

miles and miles
of
pouring through
the words
i knew
but had no clue

i restlessly remain amused

i'd (awkwardly)
devour
you

100% of half is half

i don't rock your world
i don't rawk it, either

i won't
until
*all owed*

and if i do,
it is entirely
by
mistake.

break, dammit, break

i'll bite.

are you real?

and if so,
materialize.

thanks

1.

i'm actually not stupid.
it's just that when you appear, i can't speak.
that's all.

two?

one and one is not two.
one,
is over here
the other one
is over there
and they are not
making
two.

simply because
one
is not aware
of where the other is

they can't even add up
if they *want* to

hmmm

i am dreaming of the nothing you desire
like a flame so great in a state so dire

*written Oct. 30/99*