February 2012
1 post
If the bridges collapse, we’ll swim, and if the tunnels collapse, we’ll dig.
January 2012
1 post
Still burning brightly.
April 2011
1 post
If nothing is changed then there’s nothing lost.
September 2010
2 posts
Whether you’re an instigator or want to change the world, the most inflammatory thing you can do is tell the truth.
It’s just that I’ve been gone for awhile. Gone, hiding in the shadows. But someday—someday soon—the homeostatic tones that bubble and sting beneath my weathered skin will make me crawl again into the spotlights, and I will hope to mistaken them for the sun.
April 2010
1 post
“If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them.”
Brick by brick.
March 2010
3 posts
Par ton main, ta peau, ta sang j’ai cherché avec mes yeux, mais, helas, ceci est quelque chose qui est invisible à moins que vous regardez avec votre âme
If you lamented to me covetously that my brain is the size of planet earth, I’d make you feel better by reminding you that you’re the sun it spins around.
Besides, It’s more like the size of a grapefruit.
Look, here’s the truth of this thing, and it’s the only truth and the only thing I know: when we buried ourselves with sun that day beneath the litmus-blue sky with our hands entangled like spiders on a prickling web of earth’s green thorns, I meant what I said. I meant what I said, just as what I mean what I say now. No: it’s true, I no longer see a fire in your eyes and...
February 2010
1 post
I’m not shy about mistakes I’ve made or my desire to never repeat them. When I was away, I shouldn’t have wasted my time. I should have invited you to my desert in the city, I should have started the year with a promise, with an optimistic, unrealistic prospect. I should have gotten started, I should have put my fears behind me, I should have foregone the economic uncertainty,...
January 2010
4 posts
My brain’s the size of a grapefruit, you say. Well I say that may be true, but what flows inside isn’t always so sweet, so be generous with the sugar
It’s a long way down to the earth from the atmosphere; it’s a long way down, but we’ll try to keep ourselves up with the hope of hitting water
Keep this good inertia, twenty-ten, and you’ll be useful yet
December 2009
2 posts
Can you feel the radiation change me? You’re changing, too. I just need your arms wrapped up around me like I’m wrapped up in you.
Just think of us as another song you sing in front of the world. Let our arms be the stage. Let’s make this something beautiful, let’s make it something worth remembering, let’s add another refrain so it never has to end.
Let’s stay inside where it’s warmer this winter and spin webs between our fingertips
October 2009
2 posts
Growing older, feeling younger. Sit with me for a second.
I recall
calling your name
into the dawn;
Don’t you lose yourself
even if we lose control
because I found myself
and I give it to
You
September 2009
1 post
Matches and silhouettes strike and etch away at the candle-wax covered macrame, connecting the torches of the sentinel guards as dots. I, too, concord and comply with the noblest of accomplices. I wonder, wandering past the dots and the silhouettes, and put another trigger down on the manifold. Let’s put away the dust, let’s push away the dust, let’s make something happen here.
August 2009
3 posts
She put her fingertips in the concrete and left our names, and everytime I pass it I think to myself “Here we are” and I find my fingers wet with concrete.
A drifter without a current: I’ll make my own waves
We called it hostile chemistry, but me, I — well, honestly I just saw it as another way to shake away the frost from my aging limbs and bear these battle scars like armor again. I’m counting pH and parts per million and pixels per inch as I run my hand to dust away the dust from your vertebrae.
July 2009
3 posts
Before you gave me the stars, my nights were filled with Black. Before I collapsed in your arms, I was running out of breath.
I’ve been searching for a symptom to show I’m more than that, I’m more than a mark on your skin. I’ve been waiting for the chemicals and courage to let me in exactly where I want to be.
Flash this smile across your skin; it’s not easy being this stable when my molecules have a natural propensity to drift. But for you, Darling, I’m immovable.
You have the world in your hands, why do you dare to see how hard you must throw it down to make it break?
June 2009
10 posts
The familiar corners of this room seem lonelier now that you’ve gone off to start your day with a lingering kiss and a fleeting, optimistic glance.
Smile, Darling. We’re all okay: so beautifully chaotic, so deliciously unwell.
Absolutely digging Cavashawn’s new EP.
And of course I’m teasing when I call this passive-aggressive, but this is just my passive-aggressive way of telling you how much I care
Indistinguishable from a fly on the wall, as comfortable as a chair, safe as the fire alarm hanging from the ceiling.
I uncap the little bottle of Visene I keep in the mesh pocket of my dark blue messenger bag: allergy relief. Holding it vertical, I make sure to pull my eyelid back with my fingertips, to prevent the natural reflex from occurring, to stop nature from protecting itself. I gently squeeze the bottle, and in lieu of tears a drop or two of the fluid falls into each eye. Dust and pollen aside,...
When we could be anything, why would we be a negative force in the universe, a force of darkness? While people may go on acting like people and choosing to run away and choosing to self-destruct, why would we choose to pull our weight like a black hole and pull the universe away from an energy fostering creativity and growth? Why would we use our talents and beauty to drive people to madness, to...
Sometimes the sunlight of late spring softens the harshness of my brow when I feel so compelled to express myself. In these fleeting moments I can only hope that you believe me, that you know I mean it.
As I wait in the street outside, I hear your voice soaring above the trees and piano keys through a curtained window, and I know you mean it.
And again I have to say that people who constantly seek activity, diversion, distraction, or action too miss the point…
Living in the moment doesn’t imply an expression of control over circumstance but rather a surrender to infinite awareness.
By worrying about our future or escaping the realities we face, we’d both live through delusion, predicated upon an assumption that...
Waiting for the phone to ring. Wondering if I have reception?
May 2009
3 posts
Back when we were close, she used to playfully tug at the sleeve of my shirt in order to pull me closer. As our feet skipped over the cobblestone path, far beyond the point where our cell phones were disrupted by the curve of the earth and the canopy of trees overhead, she’d tell me about the ghosts in Russia. It’s been a few years, now, and I doubt that she remembers this hazy memory...
I am a restless soul, but for now, at least, you’ve given me a place to sleep & call home.
I’ve wanted you to know that I am yours & I’m coming home
The antibodies in my brain can’t ever chill this fever I’ve got for you
April 2009
10 posts
You be the sun and I’ll be the smile on your face. A shy sunbeam hides to save strength.
Sometimes when I take the time, energy & courage to try and see the world as they do I find myself in stages of decompression, fighting the bends, the loneliness, the weariness—and it makes me want to run away. By myself, and fall asleep on the bottom of the ocean before the tide rises.
I should never apologize for who I am, they say, because they made me this way. I should never...
Come on, Darling, give me something strong, something positive and radiant to put a smile on my face; give me something that shines, something hopeful and something that will make us feel alive; a few words of wisdom, of colour, of strength and divinity, and something surreal; give me something to go on & to echo the way my hands are shaking.
I stood on a star at the edge of the galaxy and shouted to the universe, “Is anyone there?” The strangest part was not even hearing the echo of my own voice.
Soon we’ll be there again: mamihlapinatapai.
There’s a black hole, but we’ll make it, we’re making it through.
Mostly thanks to you.
Come home again soon.
So I’ll be: Be your mornings, and your sunburn, and your skin; Be your sugar pill & lack of oxygen; Be your pulse and be your dark anxiety; I’ll be the bones & the body
Ten-thousand years of snowfall couldn’t hide my heart.
March 2009
13 posts
Ten-thousand years of snowfall couldn’t hide my heart
I bite my lip and increase the tension to my eyelids, paying attention to my iris, seeking redemption for my iris. I move my fingers and try to shake this feeling as we shrug towards the summer.