redemption comes sweetly...
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
grow
life grows out of a crack between the tiles
the green is confounding
one day it will overrun us all
leaving ruins like old
keeping things as they should be
green survives the fall...
the green is confounding
one day it will overrun us all
leaving ruins like old
keeping things as they should be
green survives the fall...
Sunday, February 10, 2008
fingers
sometimes when i wear you on my finger, your head is upside down.
i dont always speak in riddles.
i hate speech.
o the torturous we.
inescapable
my minds vocabulary is trapped in.
when asked questions it pops up. or just you.
but never me.
is this how its supposed to be.
and to the others
i think of you always
i wear you like a hood
and you don't always protect me
from all that you should
why did our paths ever cross
will you ever hold me again
even if it is just for a moment in your eye.
i am lost with this i.
who am i without you.
why is there no more.
will you forget?
or do you think about the rainy days when we met
don't let me disappear... again.
to the disinegrating:
i want to be like you.
fade.
nothing makes sense
but its all in its right place.
i dont always speak in riddles.
i hate speech.
o the torturous we.
inescapable
my minds vocabulary is trapped in.
when asked questions it pops up. or just you.
but never me.
is this how its supposed to be.
and to the others
i think of you always
i wear you like a hood
and you don't always protect me
from all that you should
why did our paths ever cross
will you ever hold me again
even if it is just for a moment in your eye.
i am lost with this i.
who am i without you.
why is there no more.
will you forget?
or do you think about the rainy days when we met
don't let me disappear... again.
to the disinegrating:
i want to be like you.
fade.
nothing makes sense
but its all in its right place.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Monday, February 4, 2008
twist
twist your arm around to the portion of my brain
where music was the sedative
and sedative turns sharply towards projection
identity
it is so quiet now
puddles and the sound of breath
when did the weather change?
when did i ...
longing for sedatives nevermore
the road is narrow, true...
but must it be straight?
mine twists and turns, inclines and falls
gnarled tree branches...
but what happens when it stops?
more silence
rain on me
Thursday, January 31, 2008
untitled
blackcurrant tea
and writer's block
a window lets the light in
the trees outside shape it
half forgotten...
and writer's block
a window lets the light in
the trees outside shape it
half forgotten...
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Shape and Change Shape.
Your scab is in the shape of Africa.
Mine is ever changing in the light
shadows recast
seen for a moment
forgotten in bright
impressions never forgotten
artists marks on clay
my surface
wallpaper and flocking
distant, different
you could not have known all that i would carry from you
shapes and forms
thoughts and blushes
serious yet mistaken
i wanted your touch like from the movies
skin on skin
close
did i exist before you moved me?
move.
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