One day
there may actually be something worth saying
there may actually be someone who knows
Until then
I'll spin these long-weathered trite words
I'll spin these cookie-cutter kaleidescope thoughts
(just shake and serve)
while the present now holds his breath -
12.27.2006
12.24.2006
O Holy Night
O Holy Night! The stars are brightly shining,
It is the night of the dear Saviour's birth.
Long lay the world in sin and error pining.
Till He appeared and the Spirit felt its worth.
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.
Fall on your knees! Oh, hear the angel voices!
O night divine, the night when Christ was born.
Led by the light of faith serenely beaming,
With glowing hearts by His cradle we stand.
O'er the world a star is sweetly gleaming,
Now come the wisemen from out of the Orient land.
The King of kings lay thus lowly manger;
In all our trials born to be our friends.
He knows our need, our weakness is no stranger,
Behold your King! Before him lowly bend!
Truly He taught us to love one another,
His law is love and His gospel is peace.
Chains he shall break, for the slave is our brother.
And in his name all oppression shall cease.
Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we,
With all our hearts we praise His holy name.
Christ is the Lord! Then ever, ever praise we,
His power and glory ever more proclaim!
His power and glory ever more proclaim!
-Placide Cappeau de Roquemaure
It is the night of the dear Saviour's birth.
Long lay the world in sin and error pining.
Till He appeared and the Spirit felt its worth.
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.
Fall on your knees! Oh, hear the angel voices!
O night divine, the night when Christ was born.
Led by the light of faith serenely beaming,
With glowing hearts by His cradle we stand.
O'er the world a star is sweetly gleaming,
Now come the wisemen from out of the Orient land.
The King of kings lay thus lowly manger;
In all our trials born to be our friends.
He knows our need, our weakness is no stranger,
Behold your King! Before him lowly bend!
Truly He taught us to love one another,
His law is love and His gospel is peace.
Chains he shall break, for the slave is our brother.
And in his name all oppression shall cease.
Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we,
With all our hearts we praise His holy name.
Christ is the Lord! Then ever, ever praise we,
His power and glory ever more proclaim!
His power and glory ever more proclaim!
-Placide Cappeau de Roquemaure
12.21.2006
Portrait of a Lady
Thou hast committed--
Fornication: but that was in another country
And besides, the wench is dead.
(The Jew of Malta.)
I
Among the smoke and fog of a December afternoon
You have the scene arrange itself--as it will seem to do--
With "I have saved this afternoon for you";
And four wax candles in the darkened room,
Four rings of light upon the ceiling overhead,
An atmosphere of Juliet's tomb
Prepared for all the things to be said, or left unsaid.
We have been, let us say, to hear the latest Pole
Transmit the Preludes, through his hair and finger-tips.
"So intimate, this Chopin, that I think his soul
Should be resurrected only among friends
Some two or three, who will not touch the bloom
That is rubbed and questioned in the concert room."
--And so the conversation slips
Among velleities and carefully caught regrets
Through attenuated tones of violins
Mingled with remote cornets
And begins.
"You do not know how much they mean to me, my friends,
And how, how rare and strange it is, to find
In a life composed so much, so much of odds and ends,
(For indeed I do not love it ... you knew? you are not blind!
How keen you are!)
To find a friend who has these qualities,
Who has, and gives
Those qualities upon which friendship lives.
How much it means that I say this to you--
Without these friendships--life, what cauchemar [a nightmare]!"
Among the windings of the violins
And the ariettesOf cracked cornets
Inside my brain a dull tom-tom begins
Absurdly hammering a prelude of its own,
Capricious monotoneThat is at least one definite "false note."
--Let us take the air, in a tobacco trance,
Admire the monuments
Discuss the late events,
Correct our watches by the public clocks.
Then sit for half an hour and drink our bocks.
II
Now that lilacs are in bloom
She has a bowl of lilacs in her room
And twists one in her fingers while she talks.
"Ah, my friend, you do not know, you do not know
What life is, you should hold it in your hands";
(Slowly twisting the lilac stalks)
"You let it flow from you, you let it flow,
And youth is cruel, and has no remorse
And smiles at situations which it cannot see."
I smile, of course,
And go on drinking tea.
"Yet with these April sunsets, that somehow recall
My buried life, and Paris in the Spring,
I feel immeasurably at peace, and find the world
To be wonderful and youthful, after all."
The voice returns like the insistent out-of-tune
Of a broken violin on an August afternoon:
"I am always sure that you understand
My feelings, always sure that you feel,
Sure that across the gulf you reach your hand.
You are invulnerable, you have no Achilles' heel.
You will go on, and when you have prevailed
You can say: at this point many a one has failed.
But what have I, but what have I, my friend,
To give you, what can you receive from me?
Only the friendship and the sympathy
Of one about to reach her journey's end.
I shall sit here, serving tea to friends...."
I take my hat: how can I make a cowardly amends
For what she has said to me?
You will see me any morning in the park
Reading the comics and the sporting page.
Particularly I remark
An English countess goes upon the stage.
A Greek was murdered at a Polish dance,
Another bank defaulter has confessed.
I keep my countenance, I remain self-possessed
Except when a street piano, mechanical and tired
Reiterates some worn-out common song
With the smell of hyacinths across the garden
Recalling things that other people have desired.
Are these ideas right or wrong?
III
The October night comes down; returning as before
Except for a slight sensation of being ill at ease
I mount the stairs and turn the handle of the door
And feel as if I had mounted on my hands and knees.
"And so you are going abroad; and when do you return?
But that's a useless question.
You hardly know when you are coming back,
You will find so much to learn."
My smile falls heavily among the bric-à-brac.
"Perhaps you can write to me."
My self-possession flares up for a second;
This is as I had reckoned.
"I have been wondering frequently of late
(But our beginnings never know our ends!)
Why we have not developed into friends."
I feel like one who smiles, and turning shall remark
Suddenly, his expression in a glass.
My self-possession gutters; we are really in the dark.
"For everybody said so, all our friends,
They all were sure our feelings would relate
So closely! I myself can hardly understand.
We must leave it now to fate.
You will write, at any rate.
Perhaps it is not too late.
I shall sit here, serving tea to friends."
And I must borrow every changing shape
To find expression ... dance, dance
Like a dancing bear,
Cry like a parrot, chatter like an ape.
Let us take the air, in a tobacco trance--
Well! and what if she should die some afternoon,
Afternoon grey and smoky, evening yellow and rose;
Should die and leave me sitting pen in hand
With the smoke coming down above the housetops;
Doubtful, for quite a while
Not knowing what to feel or if I understand
Or whether wise or foolish, tardy or too soon ...
Would she not have the advantage, after all?
This music is successful with a "dying fall"
Now that we talk of dying
--And should I have the right to smile?
- Eliot
Fornication: but that was in another country
And besides, the wench is dead.
(The Jew of Malta.)
I
Among the smoke and fog of a December afternoon
You have the scene arrange itself--as it will seem to do--
With "I have saved this afternoon for you";
And four wax candles in the darkened room,
Four rings of light upon the ceiling overhead,
An atmosphere of Juliet's tomb
Prepared for all the things to be said, or left unsaid.
We have been, let us say, to hear the latest Pole
Transmit the Preludes, through his hair and finger-tips.
"So intimate, this Chopin, that I think his soul
Should be resurrected only among friends
Some two or three, who will not touch the bloom
That is rubbed and questioned in the concert room."
--And so the conversation slips
Among velleities and carefully caught regrets
Through attenuated tones of violins
Mingled with remote cornets
And begins.
"You do not know how much they mean to me, my friends,
And how, how rare and strange it is, to find
In a life composed so much, so much of odds and ends,
(For indeed I do not love it ... you knew? you are not blind!
How keen you are!)
To find a friend who has these qualities,
Who has, and gives
Those qualities upon which friendship lives.
How much it means that I say this to you--
Without these friendships--life, what cauchemar [a nightmare]!"
Among the windings of the violins
And the ariettesOf cracked cornets
Inside my brain a dull tom-tom begins
Absurdly hammering a prelude of its own,
Capricious monotoneThat is at least one definite "false note."
--Let us take the air, in a tobacco trance,
Admire the monuments
Discuss the late events,
Correct our watches by the public clocks.
Then sit for half an hour and drink our bocks.
II
Now that lilacs are in bloom
She has a bowl of lilacs in her room
And twists one in her fingers while she talks.
"Ah, my friend, you do not know, you do not know
What life is, you should hold it in your hands";
(Slowly twisting the lilac stalks)
"You let it flow from you, you let it flow,
And youth is cruel, and has no remorse
And smiles at situations which it cannot see."
I smile, of course,
And go on drinking tea.
"Yet with these April sunsets, that somehow recall
My buried life, and Paris in the Spring,
I feel immeasurably at peace, and find the world
To be wonderful and youthful, after all."
The voice returns like the insistent out-of-tune
Of a broken violin on an August afternoon:
"I am always sure that you understand
My feelings, always sure that you feel,
Sure that across the gulf you reach your hand.
You are invulnerable, you have no Achilles' heel.
You will go on, and when you have prevailed
You can say: at this point many a one has failed.
But what have I, but what have I, my friend,
To give you, what can you receive from me?
Only the friendship and the sympathy
Of one about to reach her journey's end.
I shall sit here, serving tea to friends...."
I take my hat: how can I make a cowardly amends
For what she has said to me?
You will see me any morning in the park
Reading the comics and the sporting page.
Particularly I remark
An English countess goes upon the stage.
A Greek was murdered at a Polish dance,
Another bank defaulter has confessed.
I keep my countenance, I remain self-possessed
Except when a street piano, mechanical and tired
Reiterates some worn-out common song
With the smell of hyacinths across the garden
Recalling things that other people have desired.
Are these ideas right or wrong?
III
The October night comes down; returning as before
Except for a slight sensation of being ill at ease
I mount the stairs and turn the handle of the door
And feel as if I had mounted on my hands and knees.
"And so you are going abroad; and when do you return?
But that's a useless question.
You hardly know when you are coming back,
You will find so much to learn."
My smile falls heavily among the bric-à-brac.
"Perhaps you can write to me."
My self-possession flares up for a second;
This is as I had reckoned.
"I have been wondering frequently of late
(But our beginnings never know our ends!)
Why we have not developed into friends."
I feel like one who smiles, and turning shall remark
Suddenly, his expression in a glass.
My self-possession gutters; we are really in the dark.
"For everybody said so, all our friends,
They all were sure our feelings would relate
So closely! I myself can hardly understand.
We must leave it now to fate.
You will write, at any rate.
Perhaps it is not too late.
I shall sit here, serving tea to friends."
And I must borrow every changing shape
To find expression ... dance, dance
Like a dancing bear,
Cry like a parrot, chatter like an ape.
Let us take the air, in a tobacco trance--
Well! and what if she should die some afternoon,
Afternoon grey and smoky, evening yellow and rose;
Should die and leave me sitting pen in hand
With the smoke coming down above the housetops;
Doubtful, for quite a while
Not knowing what to feel or if I understand
Or whether wise or foolish, tardy or too soon ...
Would she not have the advantage, after all?
This music is successful with a "dying fall"
Now that we talk of dying
--And should I have the right to smile?
- Eliot
12.18.2006
Progression
A stealth-like intertwining of souls with growth in spurts
A timid creep towards another's delicate fibrous heart
(considering every move
safeguarding every thought)
while gently feeling testing maturing seeking asking
"Is this. . . "
Peace, child.
So deeper still, inward on.
A timid creep towards another's delicate fibrous heart
(considering every move
safeguarding every thought)
while gently feeling testing maturing seeking asking
"Is this. . . "
Peace, child.
So deeper still, inward on.
12.11.2006
Comments on Poetry
"There is no such thing as a perfectly adequate poem, because a poem into which some strange and surprising excellence has not entered, a poem that is not in some inexplicable way beyond the will of the poet, is not a poem. [. . .] The truth is, sometimes poetry is embarrassingly easy to write. Just about every poet admits to some simultaneous feeling of helplessness and unaccostumed power in writing of his best poems, some element of mystery. "If you do not believe in poetry," Wallace Stevens once wrote, "you cannot write it," and indeed this is the chief "difficulty" in poetry, that it comes so infrequently that it remains beyond our will." - Christian Wiman
"But even the most dull-witted author was obliged to realize that his freely associating the work of art [informal poetry] - proudly meaningless, although really meaning everything - would have no readers unless it had its moments. Whether in a formal poem or in an informal one, everything depended and still depends, on the quality of the moment. Formality and informality are just two different ways of joining the moments up. The question will always be about which is superior, and the "always" strongly suggests that neither of them is. Whatever kind of poem it is, it's the moment that gets you." - Clive James
"But even the most dull-witted author was obliged to realize that his freely associating the work of art [informal poetry] - proudly meaningless, although really meaning everything - would have no readers unless it had its moments. Whether in a formal poem or in an informal one, everything depended and still depends, on the quality of the moment. Formality and informality are just two different ways of joining the moments up. The question will always be about which is superior, and the "always" strongly suggests that neither of them is. Whatever kind of poem it is, it's the moment that gets you." - Clive James
12.04.2006
Soapbox, part 1
They say this is the hardest language
perhaps second only to the orients far east.
The words never mean what Mr Webster says
but are pliable to context, nuance, overtones, and bias.
In addition is modern connatation that can turn
even the most puritan phrase into slanderous flilth.
The rules never apply to more than one incident
and generally contradict one another at every turn.
The intricate webbing of "'I'-before-'e'-except-after-'c'"
and "When-a-word-ends-with-a-short-vowel-and-consonant
the-last-consonant-is-doubled-before-adding-a-suffix-that
begins-with-a-vowel-but-only-while-wearing-purple-lingerie,"
is complicated beyond reason.
Take into consideration that the identification of a compound
double predicate would force a weathered english instructor to weep,
and the layman's abuse of the apostrophe is - at minimum -
enough to produce the gnashing of teeth in the sternest grammatician.
In short, what is produced is a world-wide classification of
life-loving persons who are TERRIFIED OF THEIR OWN LANGUAGE.
perhaps second only to the orients far east.
The words never mean what Mr Webster says
but are pliable to context, nuance, overtones, and bias.
In addition is modern connatation that can turn
even the most puritan phrase into slanderous flilth.
The rules never apply to more than one incident
and generally contradict one another at every turn.
The intricate webbing of "'I'-before-'e'-except-after-'c'"
and "When-a-word-ends-with-a-short-vowel-and-consonant
the-last-consonant-is-doubled-before-adding-a-suffix-that
begins-with-a-vowel-but-only-while-wearing-purple-lingerie,"
is complicated beyond reason.
Take into consideration that the identification of a compound
double predicate would force a weathered english instructor to weep,
and the layman's abuse of the apostrophe is - at minimum -
enough to produce the gnashing of teeth in the sternest grammatician.
In short, what is produced is a world-wide classification of
life-loving persons who are TERRIFIED OF THEIR OWN LANGUAGE.
And so they should be.
. . .
What is called for is the massive reconstruction of the world's English language.
Or the decimation of mankind.
It's our choice.
"Dear Ms Truss:
I understand why
such woes cause all
stickler's premature greying.
Not the least of which is
the infamous comma, splice."
What is called for is the massive reconstruction of the world's English language.
Or the decimation of mankind.
It's our choice.
"Dear Ms Truss:
I understand why
such woes cause all
stickler's premature greying.
Not the least of which is
the infamous comma, splice."
11.27.2006
Rebellion
I pray you drown admist the self-induced doubts
about my beliefs - standards - behaviors - existance
and why I press the boundaries until one of us
snaps into the vaccuum of accusations
while complaints of
misinterpretation
misrepresentation
misquotation
mistakes
and misguidance
fly as fire darts in the void.
The gagging stifles of expressions:
lift of cocked eyebrow
movement of judgmental finger
exasperated sigh
catch of slow blink -
force me to shudder
look away
breathing forcefully and praying peace.
I abhor this clutching guilt and loathing of self and it's inadequacies.
I sojourn toward a stoic heart
pulsing emotionless
coursing calm
flying unburdened as a crest on a wave
in this mortal spindle-drawn life.
about my beliefs - standards - behaviors - existance
and why I press the boundaries until one of us
snaps into the vaccuum of accusations
while complaints of
misinterpretation
misrepresentation
misquotation
mistakes
and misguidance
fly as fire darts in the void.
The gagging stifles of expressions:
lift of cocked eyebrow
movement of judgmental finger
exasperated sigh
catch of slow blink -
force me to shudder
look away
breathing forcefully and praying peace.
I abhor this clutching guilt and loathing of self and it's inadequacies.
I sojourn toward a stoic heart
pulsing emotionless
coursing calm
flying unburdened as a crest on a wave
in this mortal spindle-drawn life.
11.20.2006
Afterglow
Just when the days start getting colder
I walk the streets I never knew
And there's some words I never told you
The sound rings out like the truth
And if you could see what's come over me
then you would know.
Cause I'm walking free
the wind at my back
Bathed in afterglow.
And as I sit here in this dark room
All I seem to feel is light
And I see color, I see the maroon
In the blood of this life that's ours
Watch the sun paint an orange sky
Lay me down and feel the days gone by
Just when the day Just when the day
Oh...Just when the days start getting longer
I walk the streets I never knew
The sun comes out for you.
And if you could see what's come over me
Then you would know
Cause I'm walking free
The wind at my back
Bathed in afterglow.
-Vanessa Carlton
I walk the streets I never knew
And there's some words I never told you
The sound rings out like the truth
And if you could see what's come over me
then you would know.
Cause I'm walking free
the wind at my back
Bathed in afterglow.
And as I sit here in this dark room
All I seem to feel is light
And I see color, I see the maroon
In the blood of this life that's ours
Watch the sun paint an orange sky
Lay me down and feel the days gone by
Just when the day Just when the day
Oh...Just when the days start getting longer
I walk the streets I never knew
The sun comes out for you.
And if you could see what's come over me
Then you would know
Cause I'm walking free
The wind at my back
Bathed in afterglow.
-Vanessa Carlton
11.19.2006
Mending
A wise woman once made
a delicate needle of the sharpest kind
of tempered gold looped with a crimsom silken strand
to pierce
and thread
and tug together
the ripped shreds of the heart:
gashes of abused trust
and false words
and exploited affection
and searing misunderstanding.
So I traveled far and wide - searching
for her darkened cabin beside a hidden wood -
and hesitated under lengethened moonbeams
to cross the mossy threshold and undergo
the meticulous reconstruction of my ravished heart:
which a wise woman once remade.
a delicate needle of the sharpest kind
of tempered gold looped with a crimsom silken strand
to pierce
and thread
and tug together
the ripped shreds of the heart:
gashes of abused trust
and false words
and exploited affection
and searing misunderstanding.
So I traveled far and wide - searching
for her darkened cabin beside a hidden wood -
and hesitated under lengethened moonbeams
to cross the mossy threshold and undergo
the meticulous reconstruction of my ravished heart:
which a wise woman once remade.
11.15.2006
Fear Of Fearing myself....
Why is it fear that is considered a threat
I fear that I fear myself
That I regret
What is fear a curse, or a gift
My mind's stuck in Neutral
And that's something I can't shift
The old,hard of hearing and yet I don't care
What I hate the most is it's me that I fear
I fear that I began, middled, and ended
That I fear of fearing myself
which no one comprehended
I hate that you fear all the small things in life
Like hating your parents, and losing a life
But what I fear most is the last book on the shelf
My biggest fear, is of fearing myself
I fear of fearing myself
Now asleep in clouds it was me on the shelf
I no longer have a fear of fearing myself
I fear that I fear myself
That I regret
What is fear a curse, or a gift
My mind's stuck in Neutral
And that's something I can't shift
The old,hard of hearing and yet I don't care
What I hate the most is it's me that I fear
I fear that I began, middled, and ended
That I fear of fearing myself
which no one comprehended
I hate that you fear all the small things in life
Like hating your parents, and losing a life
But what I fear most is the last book on the shelf
My biggest fear, is of fearing myself
I fear of fearing myself
Now asleep in clouds it was me on the shelf
I no longer have a fear of fearing myself
-Edgar Allan Poe Jr.
11.13.2006
Dear Reader
Baudelaire considers you his brother,
and Fielding calls out to you every few paragraphs
as if to make sure you have not closed the book,
and now I am summoning you up again,
attentive ghost, dark silent figure standing
in the doorway of these words.
Pope welcomes you into the glow of his study,
takes down a leather-bound Ovid to show you.
Tennyson lifts the latch to a moated garden,
and with Yeats you lean against a broken pear tree,
the day hooded by low clouds.
But now you are here with me,
composed in the open field of this page,
no room or manicured garden to enclose us,
no Zeitgeist marching in the background,
no heavy ethos thrown over us like a cloak.
Instead, our meeting is so brief and accidental,
unnoticed by the monocled eye of History,
you could be the man I held the door for
this morning at the bank or post office
or the one who wrapped my speckled fish.
You could be someone I passed on the street
or the face behind the wheel of an oncoming car.
The sunlight flashes off your windshield,
and when I look up into the small, posted mirror,
I watch you diminish—my echo, my twin—
and vanish around a curve in this whip
of a road we can't help traveling together.
-Billy Collins "The Art of Drowning"
11.12.2006
With love:
I never want to become
another hole in your heart
another memory to be forgotten
another regret on your lips
another burnt-out infatuation
another ignored pain in your past.
Sincerely -
P.S. Is it possible to become the one who
brings you happiness
helps you progress
blesses your life
makes you smile always.
another hole in your heart
another memory to be forgotten
another regret on your lips
another burnt-out infatuation
another ignored pain in your past.
Sincerely -
P.S. Is it possible to become the one who
brings you happiness
helps you progress
blesses your life
makes you smile always.
11.07.2006
A Letter
Dear God:
I want you to be my only refuge
my only master
my only guide
my only comfort
my only focus
my keeper and first love.
Sincerely -
P.S. Whatever they see in me - will you let them know it is all and only you?
I want you to be my only refuge
my only master
my only guide
my only comfort
my only focus
my keeper and first love.
Sincerely -
P.S. Whatever they see in me - will you let them know it is all and only you?
11.05.2006
Breach
Daily I sink deeper thicker farther away
your soul no longer touches mine
the burn of inflicted self-consciousness
hindering the being of me
I cannot force my thoughts ambitions dreams
outside you expected criticism
it is impossible to endure
your relentless sneering dissappointment
I flinch and hold
waiting for the lashes and cuts -
your soul no longer touches mine
the burn of inflicted self-consciousness
hindering the being of me
I cannot force my thoughts ambitions dreams
outside you expected criticism
it is impossible to endure
your relentless sneering dissappointment
I flinch and hold
waiting for the lashes and cuts -
So please
just take me out
swift and painless
don't let me feel
you brand that
everlasting stamp of
dissaproval
onto my heart.
just take me out
swift and painless
don't let me feel
you brand that
everlasting stamp of
dissaproval
onto my heart.
11.02.2006
(?)
-You think you are so generous and strong
to give me what is your (heart)
Do you not know I could kill you -
to give me what is your (heart)
Do you not know I could kill you -
10.30.2006
This is How I Disappear
Go -To unexplain the unforgivable,
Drain all the blood and give the kids a show.
By street light this dark night, a stance down below.
There's things that I have done, could never, should never know.
And without you is how I disappear, and live my life alone forever now.
And without you is how I disappear, and live my life alone forever now.
He walks among the famous living dead,
Drowns all the boys and girls inside your bed.
And if you could talk to me, tell me if it's so,
That all the good girls go to heaven.
Well, heaven knows -
Can you hear me cry out to you?
Words I thought I'd choke on figure out.
I'm really not with you any more.
I'm just a ghost, so I can't hurt you any more,
So I can't hurt you any more.
You wanna see how far down I can sink?
Let me out! Sinking, I'm sinking,
I'm so far away from you. I'm sinking.
And without you is how I disappear, and live my life alone forever now.
And without you is how I disappear, and live my life alone forever now.
-My Chemical Romance
Drain all the blood and give the kids a show.
By street light this dark night, a stance down below.
There's things that I have done, could never, should never know.
And without you is how I disappear, and live my life alone forever now.
And without you is how I disappear, and live my life alone forever now.
He walks among the famous living dead,
Drowns all the boys and girls inside your bed.
And if you could talk to me, tell me if it's so,
That all the good girls go to heaven.
Well, heaven knows -
Can you hear me cry out to you?
Words I thought I'd choke on figure out.
I'm really not with you any more.
I'm just a ghost, so I can't hurt you any more,
So I can't hurt you any more.
You wanna see how far down I can sink?
Let me out! Sinking, I'm sinking,
I'm so far away from you. I'm sinking.
And without you is how I disappear, and live my life alone forever now.
And without you is how I disappear, and live my life alone forever now.
-My Chemical Romance
10.23.2006
Anonymous
While passing a trash bin
I spotted your love
crumpled and bleeding
underneath shredded bills
I pulled it out
smoothed it down
read it through
Stained a crying red
it told me the story
of how you have loved
and lost
(a familiar tune)
It had wide margins
and several tear stains
I added some notes
and pain of my own
(I hope you don't mind)
While passing a mailbox
I dropped in your love
folded and healing
on top packaged bills
I spotted your love
crumpled and bleeding
underneath shredded bills
I pulled it out
smoothed it down
read it through
Stained a crying red
it told me the story
of how you have loved
and lost
(a familiar tune)
It had wide margins
and several tear stains
I added some notes
and pain of my own
(I hope you don't mind)
While passing a mailbox
I dropped in your love
folded and healing
on top packaged bills
10.18.2006
The visit
Enter and immediately it smells of
feeble bald salivia jilting death
Receptionist: Yes? Oh room number 52 on left.
Walk ignore muffled screams cheap pastel wallpaper bulletin boards
glance up see him pace the halls fly unzipped hands groping rail
will anyone save his soul?
avert gaze don't stare at the helpless dying no ones
labeled door medication clipboard is all that identifies another living corpse
they were once loved
find the number it was on left breathe deeply
step inside her mechanical bed next to another
curtain partition two dressers calender clock mounted needlepoint "Jesus"
she recognized me the wide gaping mouth and raccous moans indicated
flailing her one controllable arm she envelopes me in an embrace
my face presses into the pillow that smells of
end shampoo tears plastic resignation
communication commenced of wild gestures toothless smile chuckle groan
-Yes life has been good since I saw you last sorry it's been so long to visit but
you know how life gets away from you-
Clear eyes gaze into mine in response that yes life does get away from you if you allow
the scream of humanity to drown you in its insatiable relentless
-And the family is well and sends their love youngest is now in first grade going to school
boy do they grow up fast-
Expression pitying says that yes they do grow up fast and why don't you quench
your greed of self indulgence and invest into his life loving kindness understanding
-Certainly nice to see you after so long must go now I'll sign the guestbook-
She watches as I take the small spiral bound notebook and make my mark
next to the precious few others who hell took their time to drop in these seven years
snore like a rifle shot from the sleeping dying no one in the next mechanical bed
a nurse enters with a tray of pills painkillers laxatives stimulants insulin death
another embrace clasp and desperate arm about my neck
then pull away she pours into me an appeal come back again come back again come back again
step into the hall with down cast eyes glimpsed him still pacing
determined despondant mere purposeless
where is his soul?
ignore the smell of the
end
shudder through the press of hidden minds forgotten thoughts masked lives
only function mere form
they were once loved
Receptionist: Have a nice day
Hell.
Outside strikes the full terror of abondonment
please God don't hide my heart from me
please God take me now don't let them keep me a living corpse
Exit and immediately it smells of creation.
feeble bald salivia jilting death
Receptionist: Yes? Oh room number 52 on left.
Walk ignore muffled screams cheap pastel wallpaper bulletin boards
glance up see him pace the halls fly unzipped hands groping rail
will anyone save his soul?
avert gaze don't stare at the helpless dying no ones
labeled door medication clipboard is all that identifies another living corpse
they were once loved
find the number it was on left breathe deeply
step inside her mechanical bed next to another
curtain partition two dressers calender clock mounted needlepoint "Jesus"
she recognized me the wide gaping mouth and raccous moans indicated
flailing her one controllable arm she envelopes me in an embrace
my face presses into the pillow that smells of
end shampoo tears plastic resignation
communication commenced of wild gestures toothless smile chuckle groan
-Yes life has been good since I saw you last sorry it's been so long to visit but
you know how life gets away from you-
Clear eyes gaze into mine in response that yes life does get away from you if you allow
the scream of humanity to drown you in its insatiable relentless
-And the family is well and sends their love youngest is now in first grade going to school
boy do they grow up fast-
Expression pitying says that yes they do grow up fast and why don't you quench
your greed of self indulgence and invest into his life loving kindness understanding
-Certainly nice to see you after so long must go now I'll sign the guestbook-
She watches as I take the small spiral bound notebook and make my mark
next to the precious few others who hell took their time to drop in these seven years
snore like a rifle shot from the sleeping dying no one in the next mechanical bed
a nurse enters with a tray of pills painkillers laxatives stimulants insulin death
another embrace clasp and desperate arm about my neck
then pull away she pours into me an appeal come back again come back again come back again
step into the hall with down cast eyes glimpsed him still pacing
determined despondant mere purposeless
where is his soul?
ignore the smell of the
end
shudder through the press of hidden minds forgotten thoughts masked lives
only function mere form
they were once loved
Receptionist: Have a nice day
Hell.
Outside strikes the full terror of abondonment
please God don't hide my heart from me
please God take me now don't let them keep me a living corpse
Exit and immediately it smells of creation.
Brighter Than Sunshine
I never understood before - I never knew what love was for.
My heart was broke, my head was sore - what a feeling.
Tied up in ancient history - I didnt believe in destiny.
I look up you're standing next to me - what a feeling.
What a feeling in my soul
Love burns brighter than sunshine
Let the rain fall, I don't care - I'm yours and suddenly you're mine
Suddenly you're mine
And it's brighter than sunshine.
I never saw it happening I'd given up and given in
I just couldn't take the hurt again
I didn't have the strength to fight - Suddenly you seemed so right
Me and you - what a feeling
Suddenly you're mine - It's brighter than the sun
It's brighter than the sun, sun, shine.
Love will remain a mystery - but give me your hand and you will see
Your heart is keeping time with me
What a feeling in my soul
Love burns brighter than sunshine
It's brighter than sunshine Let the rain fall, I don't care
I'm yours and suddenly you're mine.
-Aqualung
My heart was broke, my head was sore - what a feeling.
Tied up in ancient history - I didnt believe in destiny.
I look up you're standing next to me - what a feeling.
What a feeling in my soul
Love burns brighter than sunshine
Let the rain fall, I don't care - I'm yours and suddenly you're mine
Suddenly you're mine
And it's brighter than sunshine.
I never saw it happening I'd given up and given in
I just couldn't take the hurt again
I didn't have the strength to fight - Suddenly you seemed so right
Me and you - what a feeling
Suddenly you're mine - It's brighter than the sun
It's brighter than the sun, sun, shine.
Love will remain a mystery - but give me your hand and you will see
Your heart is keeping time with me
What a feeling in my soul
Love burns brighter than sunshine
It's brighter than sunshine Let the rain fall, I don't care
I'm yours and suddenly you're mine.
-Aqualung
10.16.2006
all which isn't singing is mere talking
|
10.14.2006
Current Status Taken
I'm busy
Not now
No thank you
Not interested
Rather not
Take a hint -
I'm unavailable
Not now
No thank you
Not interested
Rather not
Take a hint -
I'm unavailable
10.13.2006
Return (Square One)
Everyturn a contradiction
have I not moved
from this concrete earth
burned alive in repitition
a plot of cycles
revolutions per second/day/year
disgrowth within mummification
of ageless repeats
again
again
again
have I not moved
from this concrete earth
burned alive in repitition
a plot of cycles
revolutions per second/day/year
disgrowth within mummification
of ageless repeats
again
again
again
10.11.2006
Brutal
Crashing down to earth
solid and reproaching
Why did you leave me
for your castle in the air?
Come back to me, child,
to harshness and to truth
clasping their iron arms
about your mind -
Do not let it wander again, naive one.
There's comfort in unforgivable facts
in unmoving absolutes
in square corners
in rigid pathways.
The disinllusionment of your imaginings
will break upon the night
exposed to mechanic reason.
Your heart will balk
at it's improved, pristine surroundings
that will protect you from
silly fancies, evocative music, flighty poems
that will only hinder the march
of progressive realism.
Welcome home
close your thoughts
muse no more.
solid and reproaching
Why did you leave me
for your castle in the air?
Come back to me, child,
to harshness and to truth
clasping their iron arms
about your mind -
Do not let it wander again, naive one.
There's comfort in unforgivable facts
in unmoving absolutes
in square corners
in rigid pathways.
The disinllusionment of your imaginings
will break upon the night
exposed to mechanic reason.
Your heart will balk
at it's improved, pristine surroundings
that will protect you from
silly fancies, evocative music, flighty poems
that will only hinder the march
of progressive realism.
Welcome home
close your thoughts
muse no more.
10.08.2006
[Random] Phone in
Welcome. Today we have on our panel our resident psychiatrist, a psychiatrist who isn't resident but staying with the other one because he can't bear to go home, and a psychiatrist who lived with the first one and who when the second arrived felt alienated and has since undergone a total personality change.
Mother: Ah! Mrs. Knickerbaker exploded!
Son: Good thing too.
Mother: Ah! She was my best friend!
Son: Oh mother, don't be so semtimental. People explode everyday.
Mother: Yes. I suppose so. I don't know - I didn't like her really.
Some things in life are bad. They can really make you mad.
Some things just make you swear and curse.
When you're chewing on life's gristle - don't grumble!
Give a whistle! And this'll help things turn out for the best.
And - always look on the bright side of life.
Always look on the light side of life.
If life seems jolly rotten - There's something you've forgotten!
And that's to laugh and smile and dance and sing.
Life is quite absurd and that's the final word.
You must always face the curtain with a bow.
Always look on the bright side of death -
Just before you draw your terminal breath.
Life's a piece of spit when you look at it.
Laugh's a laugh and that's the joke it's true.
You'll see it's all a show - keep 'em laughing as you go.
Just remember the last laugh is on you.
Keep on laughing as you go.
-Monty Python
Mother: Ah! Mrs. Knickerbaker exploded!
Son: Good thing too.
Mother: Ah! She was my best friend!
Son: Oh mother, don't be so semtimental. People explode everyday.
Mother: Yes. I suppose so. I don't know - I didn't like her really.
Some things in life are bad. They can really make you mad.
Some things just make you swear and curse.
When you're chewing on life's gristle - don't grumble!
Give a whistle! And this'll help things turn out for the best.
And - always look on the bright side of life.
Always look on the light side of life.
If life seems jolly rotten - There's something you've forgotten!
And that's to laugh and smile and dance and sing.
Life is quite absurd and that's the final word.
You must always face the curtain with a bow.
Always look on the bright side of death -
Just before you draw your terminal breath.
Life's a piece of spit when you look at it.
Laugh's a laugh and that's the joke it's true.
You'll see it's all a show - keep 'em laughing as you go.
Just remember the last laugh is on you.
Keep on laughing as you go.
-Monty Python
9.29.2006
Untitled
I stroll upon the foremost page of your mind:
You are wondering how that little girl grew
and why she demands the world. You're dismayed -
you've done everything yet nothing.
Chided, consoled, disciplined, loved - fruitless!
Mold, compress, harness, restrain - desperate!
And why she demands the world.
You don't know it was offered in that first breath
of earthly living air and that
every morning it is a promise renewed -
offered again -
unholy and tainted
the incense of strife and success
and of adulthood and heartbreak
and of death and rebirth
Crisp origamis of lives on display.
People arrayed in all their 3 dimensional pain.
That is offered again - renewed -
tantilizing and unreal
borderless.
You are wondering. You've done everything yet nothing.
Vow:
Not until maturity crushes this tender promise
(complete with aspirations of a child)
will I cease to feel the joy of wanting the world.
Of yearning, desiring, striving, begging, wrecking, deceiving
for the world.
For it was offered in that first breath of living air
I want the world.
You are wondering how that little girl grew
and why she demands the world. You're dismayed -
you've done everything yet nothing.
Chided, consoled, disciplined, loved - fruitless!
Mold, compress, harness, restrain - desperate!
And why she demands the world.
You don't know it was offered in that first breath
of earthly living air and that
every morning it is a promise renewed -
offered again -
unholy and tainted
the incense of strife and success
and of adulthood and heartbreak
and of death and rebirth
Crisp origamis of lives on display.
People arrayed in all their 3 dimensional pain.
That is offered again - renewed -
tantilizing and unreal
borderless.
You are wondering. You've done everything yet nothing.
Vow:
Not until maturity crushes this tender promise
(complete with aspirations of a child)
will I cease to feel the joy of wanting the world.
Of yearning, desiring, striving, begging, wrecking, deceiving
for the world.
For it was offered in that first breath of living air
I want the world.
9.25.2006
Surrendering
You were full and fully capable
You were self sufficient and needless
Your house was fully decorated in that sense
You were taken with me to a point
A case of careful what you wish for
But what you knew was enough to begin
And so you called and courted fiercely
So you reached out, entirely fearless
And yet you knew of reservation and how it serves
And I salute you for your courage
And I applaud your perseverance
And I embrace you for your faith in the face of adversarial forces
That I represent
So you were in but not entirely
You were up for this but not totally
You knew how arms length-ing can maintain doubt
And so you fell and you're intact
So you dove in and you're still breathing
So you jumped and you're still flying if not shocked
And I support you in your trusting
And I commend you for your wisdom
And I'm amazed by your surrender in the face of threatening forces
That I represent
You found creative ways to distance
You hid away from much through humor
Your choice of armor was your intellect
Self protection was in times of true danger
Your best defense to mistrust and be wary
Surrendering a feat of unequalled measure
And I'm thrilled to let you in
Overjoyed to be let in in kind
-Alanis Morisette
You were self sufficient and needless
Your house was fully decorated in that sense
You were taken with me to a point
A case of careful what you wish for
But what you knew was enough to begin
And so you called and courted fiercely
So you reached out, entirely fearless
And yet you knew of reservation and how it serves
And I salute you for your courage
And I applaud your perseverance
And I embrace you for your faith in the face of adversarial forces
That I represent
So you were in but not entirely
You were up for this but not totally
You knew how arms length-ing can maintain doubt
And so you fell and you're intact
So you dove in and you're still breathing
So you jumped and you're still flying if not shocked
And I support you in your trusting
And I commend you for your wisdom
And I'm amazed by your surrender in the face of threatening forces
That I represent
You found creative ways to distance
You hid away from much through humor
Your choice of armor was your intellect
Self protection was in times of true danger
Your best defense to mistrust and be wary
Surrendering a feat of unequalled measure
And I'm thrilled to let you in
Overjoyed to be let in in kind
-Alanis Morisette
9.21.2006
Disenchantment
[To Sarah, this is dedicated to you with a blessing: May your suitor get a clue. Soon.]
You failed to bring that debonair spark
I missed your sudden gleam when you entered -
there was no flash.
Maybe next time you'll do better.
[Next time]
Well, maybe not.
Okay: readjust my expectations that perhaps I'd set to high
Yes I knew you were mortal
I'd just forgotten
It got scrambled in that late-night calculation
when I also forgot you faults.
Surprising, you have quite a few.
Never noticed you cracked your knuckles
and clear your throat everytime you say "Heillldengaaard".
But of course that's fine - we all have our qurks
and physical flaws like your unusual ears and bow-shaped nose.
[Pause]
You never mentioned you are obsessed with Oprah
And that your kitchen floor has never seen a mop.
Your classic, careless wardrobe is beginning to look grundgy
(have you ever taken those pants to the cleaners?)
The half-lidded, smoky look that made me swoon
looks daft in broad daylight.
Sorry I didn't call last night [first time in two weeks].
No, not tomorrow. Maybe later [maybe never].
See ya.
[Sheepish laugh]
Whew.
That was close.
You failed to bring that debonair spark
I missed your sudden gleam when you entered -
there was no flash.
Maybe next time you'll do better.
[Next time]
Well, maybe not.
Okay: readjust my expectations that perhaps I'd set to high
Yes I knew you were mortal
I'd just forgotten
It got scrambled in that late-night calculation
when I also forgot you faults.
Surprising, you have quite a few.
Never noticed you cracked your knuckles
and clear your throat everytime you say "Heillldengaaard".
But of course that's fine - we all have our qurks
and physical flaws like your unusual ears and bow-shaped nose.
[Pause]
You never mentioned you are obsessed with Oprah
And that your kitchen floor has never seen a mop.
Your classic, careless wardrobe is beginning to look grundgy
(have you ever taken those pants to the cleaners?)
The half-lidded, smoky look that made me swoon
looks daft in broad daylight.
Sorry I didn't call last night [first time in two weeks].
No, not tomorrow. Maybe later [maybe never].
See ya.
[Sheepish laugh]
Whew.
That was close.
9.20.2006
Black Horse & The Cherry Tree
Well my heart knows me better than I know myself
So I'm gonna let it do all the talking.
I came across a place in the middle of nowhere
With a big black horse and a cherry tree.
I fell in fear, upon my back
He said "Don't look back, just keep on walking."
When the big black horse said, "Hey lady!"
Said, "Look this way, will you marry me?"
But I said no, no, no, no-no-no
I said no, no. You're not the one for me
No, no, no, no-no-no
I said no, no. You're not the one for me
And my heart had a problem, in the early hours,
So I stopped it dead for a beat or two.
But I cut some cord, and I shouldn't have done that,
And it won't forgive me after all these years
So I sent it to a place in the middle of nowhere
With a big black horse and a cherry tree.
Now it won't come back, cause it's oh so happy
And now I've got a hole for the world to see
Big black horse and a cherry tree
I can't quite get there 'cause my heart's forsaken me
Big black horse and a cherry tree
No, no, no, no
I can't quite get there 'cause my heart's forsaken me
- KT Tunstall
So I'm gonna let it do all the talking.
I came across a place in the middle of nowhere
With a big black horse and a cherry tree.
I fell in fear, upon my back
He said "Don't look back, just keep on walking."
When the big black horse said, "Hey lady!"
Said, "Look this way, will you marry me?"
But I said no, no, no, no-no-no
I said no, no. You're not the one for me
No, no, no, no-no-no
I said no, no. You're not the one for me
And my heart had a problem, in the early hours,
So I stopped it dead for a beat or two.
But I cut some cord, and I shouldn't have done that,
And it won't forgive me after all these years
So I sent it to a place in the middle of nowhere
With a big black horse and a cherry tree.
Now it won't come back, cause it's oh so happy
And now I've got a hole for the world to see
Big black horse and a cherry tree
I can't quite get there 'cause my heart's forsaken me
Big black horse and a cherry tree
No, no, no, no
I can't quite get there 'cause my heart's forsaken me
- KT Tunstall
9.18.2006
A Solitary Triumph
- OH, the progress of Woman has really been vast
- Since Civilization began.
- She's usurped all the qualities which in the past
- Were reckoned peculiar to Man.
- She can score with a bat, use a rod or a cue;
- Her tennis and golf are sublime.
- Her aim with a gun is uncommonly true,
- But Man beats her hollow at crime.
- The strings to her bow are both varied and quaint;
- There are maids who can work with the pen,
- There are maids who can handle the palette and paint
- With a skill that's not given to men.
- There are ladies who preach, lady doctors there are,
- MPs will be ladies in time,
- And ladies, I hear, practise now at the Bar --
- But Man holds the record for crime.
- So it's hey for the jemmy, and ho for the drill,
- And hurrah for the skeleton keys.
- Oh, to burgle a house or to rifle a till!
- I am more than her equal at these.
- She may beat me at home, she may beat me afield;
- In her way I admit she is prime.
- But one palm at least I compel her to yield:
- I can give her a lesson in crime.
- Since Civilization began.
- -P.G. Wodehouse
[Statistics show that the number of criminal women is considerably less in proportion than that of male criminals.]
9.16.2006
The Accursed
Is this rediculous tune playing again?
What in hell -
Do you think you will hypotise me
insych with your reality?
Spewing the innards of this song
daemons, sloths, worms and spirits
convort onto this psuedo-nightmare of a dream
Do you believe I will fall for this
deathlike-pantomime?
My hope is deeper than your ocean of ruination
So play it again
So play it again
What in hell -
Do you think you will hypnotise me
insynch with your warped reality?
You existence is ephermeral
and this battle is supernatural
I will not buy into this death-like pantomime
An eternal being:
(living for more than merely today)
Should never buy into this death-like pantomime
(if only because there is life everlasting)
What in hell -
Do you think you will hypotise me
insych with your reality?
Spewing the innards of this song
daemons, sloths, worms and spirits
convort onto this psuedo-nightmare of a dream
Do you believe I will fall for this
deathlike-pantomime?
My hope is deeper than your ocean of ruination
So play it again
So play it again
What in hell -
Do you think you will hypnotise me
insynch with your warped reality?
You existence is ephermeral
and this battle is supernatural
I will not buy into this death-like pantomime
An eternal being:
(living for more than merely today)
Should never buy into this death-like pantomime
(if only because there is life everlasting)
9.13.2006
To a friend
Your voices sound distant yet warm
and I respond to your laughter and rediculous antics -
How a simple grammatical truth could be the subject
of such mockery is only possible in the closest of company.
You look so happy next to him as he struggles to express
deep affection through gentle teasing and sarcastic retorts.
Smiling, you understand.
You know it too -
You feel it, and it is right.
and I respond to your laughter and rediculous antics -
How a simple grammatical truth could be the subject
of such mockery is only possible in the closest of company.
You look so happy next to him as he struggles to express
deep affection through gentle teasing and sarcastic retorts.
Smiling, you understand.
You know it too -
You feel it, and it is right.
9.11.2006
Afterglow
Just when the days start getting colder,
I walk the streets I never knew.
There's some words I never told you.
The sound rings out like the truth.
As I sit here in this dark room, all I seem to feel is light.
I see color, I see the maroon in the blood of this life...
That's ours.
Watch the sun it paints an orange sky.
Lay me down and feel the days gone by.
Just when the days start getting longer,
I walk the streets I never knew...
The sun comes out for you.
And if you could see what's come over me,
then you would know.
'Cause I'm walking free.
The wind at my back, bathed in afterglow.
I walk the streets I never knew.
There's some words I never told you.
The sound rings out like the truth.
As I sit here in this dark room, all I seem to feel is light.
I see color, I see the maroon in the blood of this life...
That's ours.
Watch the sun it paints an orange sky.
Lay me down and feel the days gone by.
Just when the days start getting longer,
I walk the streets I never knew...
The sun comes out for you.
And if you could see what's come over me,
then you would know.
'Cause I'm walking free.
The wind at my back, bathed in afterglow.
-Vanessa Carlton
9.08.2006
9.06.2006
Victorian
Covert glances in public places
muted whispers and calling cards.
Restraining -
refraining -
waiting for your cue, your implicit nuance -
a hint of lust?
Never black and white (never hit it on)
Only smooth lilac, cream, and emerald.
We dance a painstaking masquerade in low-lit halls
as aquaintances and distant music meld
into the background of our
- Waxen Set-up -
Position Here:
Hand behind back, face behind fan, heart behind form.
Hair severe, rouge thick, lips closed.
Satins entrap heavy breathing -
Perfumes mask fervent feeling -
restraining
refraining
poised in a perfect tableaux
waiting for you.
muted whispers and calling cards.
Restraining -
refraining -
waiting for your cue, your implicit nuance -
a hint of lust?
Never black and white (never hit it on)
Only smooth lilac, cream, and emerald.
We dance a painstaking masquerade in low-lit halls
as aquaintances and distant music meld
into the background of our
- Waxen Set-up -
Position Here:
Hand behind back, face behind fan, heart behind form.
Hair severe, rouge thick, lips closed.
Satins entrap heavy breathing -
Perfumes mask fervent feeling -
restraining
refraining
poised in a perfect tableaux
waiting for you.
9.03.2006
Vehicle and Animals
It's the simple things like the robots Stevie G draws
and the ease with which we seem to pull those tricks.
There are moments of escape for every one of us
and the beauty in the times that we create.
I saw you smiling
and I need my vehicles and animals and I will be alright.
Take me back to nineteen-seventy-nine so I can find my open eyes.
He can play all by himself for many hours
I have never seen a kid who's so content.
There is nothing from the outside that can touch him
'cause he's just learning how to be alone with one.
Lying down on my bed Ijust got another kick to the head
oh yeah you're a part of me yet another branch on the family tree.
Slt on my fingers,salt in my cuts,salt on my face and salt in my guts.
I's been a battle but we've come through
okaytop what you're doing and play.
'Cuse we've got our vehicles and animals
so we're gonna be alright there's no need for us to go back in time.
Bcause we've found our open eyes
Weve got our vehicles and animals so we're gonna be alright.
-Athlete
and the ease with which we seem to pull those tricks.
There are moments of escape for every one of us
and the beauty in the times that we create.
I saw you smiling
and I need my vehicles and animals and I will be alright.
Take me back to nineteen-seventy-nine so I can find my open eyes.
He can play all by himself for many hours
I have never seen a kid who's so content.
There is nothing from the outside that can touch him
'cause he's just learning how to be alone with one.
Lying down on my bed Ijust got another kick to the head
oh yeah you're a part of me yet another branch on the family tree.
Slt on my fingers,salt in my cuts,salt on my face and salt in my guts.
I's been a battle but we've come through
okaytop what you're doing and play.
'Cuse we've got our vehicles and animals
so we're gonna be alright there's no need for us to go back in time.
Bcause we've found our open eyes
Weve got our vehicles and animals so we're gonna be alright.
-Athlete
9.01.2006
Sanctified
Now we have not received the Spirit of the World, but the Spirit who is from God, in order to know what has been freely given by God. . . Don't you know that you are God's sanctuary and that the Spirit of God lives in you? If anyone ruins God's sanctuary, God will ruin him; for God's sanctuary is holy, and that is what you are. . . Do you not know that your body is a sanctuary of the Holy Spirit who is in you, whom you have from God? You are not your own, for you were bought at a price; therefore, glorify God in your body.
-1 Corinthians 2:12, 3:16-17, 6:19-20
-1 Corinthians 2:12, 3:16-17, 6:19-20
8.28.2006
Introduction to Poetry
I ask them to take a poem
and hold it up to the light
like a color slideor press an ear against its hive.
I say drop a mouse into a poem
and watch him probe his way out,or walk inside the poem's room
and feel the walls for a light switch.I want them to waterski
across the surface of a poem
waving at the author's name on the shore.But all they want to do
is tie the poem to a chair with rope
and torture a confession out of it.They begin beating it with a hose
to find out what it really means.- Billy Collins "The Apple that Astonished Paris"
8.25.2006
Simply Ghastly
Exclamation point stare
Drop jaw prickle scalp
halt shift rubber neck
shudder fun hide fast
Fashion faux pas.
Drop jaw prickle scalp
halt shift rubber neck
shudder fun hide fast
Fashion faux pas.
8.24.2006
Ever-Fixed Mark
Development/growth/expansion
are too scientific/economic
for the language of love -
They exclude from its vision
possibilities of remaining/eternally
with him/forever.
are too scientific/economic
for the language of love -
They exclude from its vision
possibilities of remaining/eternally
with him/forever.
8.23.2006
Industrial Consumption
A burning intensity consumes all
except the mounting debris of loose
carbon ash and dreams
swept into the wastepan tucked
neatly underneath the sterile desk
of your conscious thoughts.
except the mounting debris of loose
carbon ash and dreams
swept into the wastepan tucked
neatly underneath the sterile desk
of your conscious thoughts.
8.21.2006
Pity Bath
What does not break you leaves you bitter
I watched that expression before
a mingling of resentment and bleeding wounds
revealing your past upon that sketch blank.
History claws into your heart
staining the delicate future hope.
Play that self-pity chord again
Pull the empathy from the crowd
Would their shallow mourning lessen the burn?
How can they know - How you have suffered -
Wasn't it all against the rules?
So life's not fair (not fair)
(but a future's beautiful).
Shake those bitter scales let them fall as dead
forsake them for hope.
A sketch blank renewed.
I watched that expression before
what does not break you leaves you with a
past.
I watched that expression before
a mingling of resentment and bleeding wounds
revealing your past upon that sketch blank.
History claws into your heart
staining the delicate future hope.
Play that self-pity chord again
Pull the empathy from the crowd
Would their shallow mourning lessen the burn?
How can they know - How you have suffered -
Wasn't it all against the rules?
So life's not fair (not fair)
(but a future's beautiful).
Shake those bitter scales let them fall as dead
forsake them for hope.
A sketch blank renewed.
I watched that expression before
what does not break you leaves you with a
past.
8.18.2006
The Luck of the Bodkins
Too damn silly, he felt, her asking a thing like that when for days he had been going out of his way to make it abundantly clear what his feelings were towards her. An intelligent girl like herself, he meant to say, was surely aware that a fellow does not look at her the way he had been looking, squeeze her hand the way he had been squeezing it and kiss her on dark decks the way he had been kissing her, unless he means something by it.
Reginald: "I've loved you ever since you nearly twisted my neck off that first day."
Mabel: "Great."
Reginald: "I started worshipping you at that precise moment."
Mabel: "Swell."
Reginald: "And day by day in every way it's getting worse and worse ever since."
Mabel: "Don't you mean better and better?"
Reginald: "No, I don't mean better and better. I mean worse and worse. And why? Because it's hopeless. Abso-bally-hopeless."
Mabel: "Hopeless? Why? If what's worrying you is that you think I don't love you, dismiss that notion. I'm crazy about you."
Reginald: "You are?"
Mabel: "Dippy."
Reginald: "Would you marry me if I asked you?"
Mabel: "I'm going to marry you even if you don't ask me."
-P G Whodehouse
Reginald: "I've loved you ever since you nearly twisted my neck off that first day."
Mabel: "Great."
Reginald: "I started worshipping you at that precise moment."
Mabel: "Swell."
Reginald: "And day by day in every way it's getting worse and worse ever since."
Mabel: "Don't you mean better and better?"
Reginald: "No, I don't mean better and better. I mean worse and worse. And why? Because it's hopeless. Abso-bally-hopeless."
Mabel: "Hopeless? Why? If what's worrying you is that you think I don't love you, dismiss that notion. I'm crazy about you."
Reginald: "You are?"
Mabel: "Dippy."
Reginald: "Would you marry me if I asked you?"
Mabel: "I'm going to marry you even if you don't ask me."
-P G Whodehouse
8.16.2006
Daylight Robbery
Don't mind me - Just cruising by -
by the girl with the balloon.
Good, it looks like we're the only ones around.
Caught on CCTV - Heading towards the city lights
Winking diamonds at me, arms stretched out now.
Ha-oooooooooo, it gets me everytime.
Sexy baby, Happiness and silhouettes,
Revolving in the deep water.
Indigo its high tide,night sky, pleasure moment.
Thinking big thinking positive and itching to get on with it
Its all stops out.
Excess is the new moderation
Get all dressed up to the power of ten
Raise glasses on repeat, again, again, again, again, again, again
Ha-ooooo it gets me everytime, wade in the sonic joy
Pleasure in the wave and synchronise
Sway in the sonic joy.
-Imogen Heap
by the girl with the balloon.
Good, it looks like we're the only ones around.
Caught on CCTV - Heading towards the city lights
Winking diamonds at me, arms stretched out now.
Ha-oooooooooo, it gets me everytime.
Sexy baby, Happiness and silhouettes,
Revolving in the deep water.
Indigo its high tide,night sky, pleasure moment.
Thinking big thinking positive and itching to get on with it
Its all stops out.
Excess is the new moderation
Get all dressed up to the power of ten
Raise glasses on repeat, again, again, again, again, again, again
Ha-ooooo it gets me everytime, wade in the sonic joy
Pleasure in the wave and synchronise
Sway in the sonic joy.
-Imogen Heap
7.31.2006
Rebirth
Drop all hindrances
Be renewed
Press onward
God willing
We will survive
Unscathed and reborn
Gleaming and clean
An offering to you
My Savior
Let me write as unto you -
Be renewed
Press onward
God willing
We will survive
Unscathed and reborn
Gleaming and clean
An offering to you
My Savior
Let me write as unto you -
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