The Sun, A Cyclops
Six AM is not too early for
rabid laughter. Shadowy forms
merge on the doorstep,
we strip off our fishnets in the kitchen
over bowls of plastic lemons.
Later, we’ll crowd, shoulder to shoulder,
into this very room, rehearsing steps,
but for now we spin on candy apple stools,
knees cracking together in the cold.
Night fades into sunrise, striking
my tight-shut eyelids as I attempt to hide
inside faux fur and leather.
Her voice rouses us from sleep every time,
knives to our eardrums,
until we issue an ultimatum
that finally evicts them from our slumber.
Monday, February 18, 2008
Carbon Copy
Carbon Copy
Something snaps,
sinking lovers back into reality,
every sigh another city show.
In the urban darkness,
photos become mirrors,
gilt edges shining for no one.
Discarded valentines overflow
from every crevice in the skyline,
she doesn’t understand holidays or herself.
The rabbit jumps back into the hat,
the garish light invades the void
and on every street corner,
couples quarrel into bed.
Something snaps,
sinking lovers back into reality,
every sigh another city show.
In the urban darkness,
photos become mirrors,
gilt edges shining for no one.
Discarded valentines overflow
from every crevice in the skyline,
she doesn’t understand holidays or herself.
The rabbit jumps back into the hat,
the garish light invades the void
and on every street corner,
couples quarrel into bed.
Mistaking Tornadoes for Tomatoes
Mistaking Tornadoes for Tomatoes
Exchange languished sighs for
fumbling hands, pale as doves
just released from the dovecote,
feathers of silk.
She’s so young, tread carefully.
No longer do we enforce the wear
of red A’s on maidenly breasts,
but eyes can still wound
just as much as verbal accusations.
So she falls prey to the sharks,
naive but not quite innocent,
eyes wide and mind empty.
You had such promise,
but it all breaks into shards
within your hands.
Exchange languished sighs for
fumbling hands, pale as doves
just released from the dovecote,
feathers of silk.
She’s so young, tread carefully.
No longer do we enforce the wear
of red A’s on maidenly breasts,
but eyes can still wound
just as much as verbal accusations.
So she falls prey to the sharks,
naive but not quite innocent,
eyes wide and mind empty.
You had such promise,
but it all breaks into shards
within your hands.
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
Only You
Only You
I’m too far gone to breathe you in,
hands too weak to untie this noose.
With broken jaws and blistered lips
we bleed through the teeth,
eyes locked on the cracks in the sidewalk.
We wrote each other’s epitaphs,
rotten words form rotting corpses,
shin bones prematurely decayed
into dust.
The pecan tree I planted
above your still-warm flesh,
produces fruit that only tastes of you.
I’m too far gone to breathe you in,
hands too weak to untie this noose.
With broken jaws and blistered lips
we bleed through the teeth,
eyes locked on the cracks in the sidewalk.
We wrote each other’s epitaphs,
rotten words form rotting corpses,
shin bones prematurely decayed
into dust.
The pecan tree I planted
above your still-warm flesh,
produces fruit that only tastes of you.
Bruised
Bruised
A finger pressed hard
against a bruise as fresh
as yesterday’s bread,
lips form an O,
eyes reeling fast
find ceiling cracks.
Concentrate on anything else.
Not on teeth, not on hips
or the trailing of lips across
that shadowy place
above your eyelid’s crease.
Even eyelashes can stretch
upwards, to meet moving flesh,
towards reawakened desire.
Pulse beats faster, faster,
no knowing if this moment is the last
or if every second fades
into another shade of gray,
another broken vow, toes curling,
fingers scrabbling.
Hands find mountain ranges,
peaks and valleys as strange as
entirely new worlds hidden
among scraps of deceptive clothing.
The clock ticks from the wall,
reminders that this will all
fall apart, eventually,
when it strikes twelve.
A finger pressed hard
against a bruise as fresh
as yesterday’s bread,
lips form an O,
eyes reeling fast
find ceiling cracks.
Concentrate on anything else.
Not on teeth, not on hips
or the trailing of lips across
that shadowy place
above your eyelid’s crease.
Even eyelashes can stretch
upwards, to meet moving flesh,
towards reawakened desire.
Pulse beats faster, faster,
no knowing if this moment is the last
or if every second fades
into another shade of gray,
another broken vow, toes curling,
fingers scrabbling.
Hands find mountain ranges,
peaks and valleys as strange as
entirely new worlds hidden
among scraps of deceptive clothing.
The clock ticks from the wall,
reminders that this will all
fall apart, eventually,
when it strikes twelve.
Crash
Crash
Dashboard meets
shin bone, patella
smashed hard
into glove compartment handle,
thigh cracks
under pressure.
Pelvis clings to leather,
joints snapping back
into place,
ribs find resistance
causing whiplash,
neck straining
to retain
normalcy.
Eyes wide,
mouth opens in
silent scream.
Windshield shatters,
metal buckling,
spinning,
straight into
darkness.
Dashboard meets
shin bone, patella
smashed hard
into glove compartment handle,
thigh cracks
under pressure.
Pelvis clings to leather,
joints snapping back
into place,
ribs find resistance
causing whiplash,
neck straining
to retain
normalcy.
Eyes wide,
mouth opens in
silent scream.
Windshield shatters,
metal buckling,
spinning,
straight into
darkness.
Gravitron
Gravitron
The floor drops out,
disappears,
like Josh’s dad on Sunday nights,
like the football we left in the street
that one day when the pool’s
seductive, chlorinated waters beckoned.
Anything you drop gets sucked out
into another dimension,
so if you lose a shoe,
that’s it, it’s gone forever.
You have to hold onto the bar
really tight,
or you’ll go flying out into space, too.
“It’s true! I saw it happen, I swear!”
That isn’t funny, let’s
throw rocks at the lamppost
instead of going, okay?
The floor drops out,
disappears,
like Josh’s dad on Sunday nights,
like the football we left in the street
that one day when the pool’s
seductive, chlorinated waters beckoned.
Anything you drop gets sucked out
into another dimension,
so if you lose a shoe,
that’s it, it’s gone forever.
You have to hold onto the bar
really tight,
or you’ll go flying out into space, too.
“It’s true! I saw it happen, I swear!”
That isn’t funny, let’s
throw rocks at the lamppost
instead of going, okay?
Gangrene
Gangrene
A human being spends,
on average,
up to two whole weeks of their life
kissing other human beings.
You were only eighteen
when you died.
Where did your number fall?
Flames leave marks on flesh
like lips, like teeth do,
metal bites down harder
but we’re all left scarred.
I saw the car that held you
crushed,
like a soda can,
its embrace too forceful –
people perish this way daily.
No one dies from kissing.
A human being spends,
on average,
up to two whole weeks of their life
kissing other human beings.
You were only eighteen
when you died.
Where did your number fall?
Flames leave marks on flesh
like lips, like teeth do,
metal bites down harder
but we’re all left scarred.
I saw the car that held you
crushed,
like a soda can,
its embrace too forceful –
people perish this way daily.
No one dies from kissing.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
I Could Live in Bathe
I Could Live in Bathe
Nothing stays whole. Everything splinters
into shards, fragments of ‘used to be’,
‘never was’, or ‘might have been’.
We work hard for simplicity.
Once gained, it seems meaningless,
as do our lives,
and each part of the world falls off,
or, so it seems to the untrained eye,
the disbeliever at Pompeii
who claims no harm, no foul,
even when magma turns his feet to stone,
or the unseeing, all-knowing
scholar of the ancient world who follows Copernicus,
proclaiming ‘oh yes, the sun revolves around the earth,
of course!’ and ‘That Galileo is a madman!’
Will we always be led by incompetent blunderers
happy to parrot the ideas of others
while letting their brains turn to ash?
What if Columbus, deterred by erroneous minds,
had conceded that he was wrong,
the earth was indeed flat,
allowing himself to be locked away while
his boats turned to moldy remnants, his
sailors disappearing over the edge of the world?
Can we be so easily mistaken for sheep,
or swine, or cattle even?
Do our feelings mean so little to our tiny brains that we
block them out, block ourselves out
of our enriched fantasy lives?
Can emotion run a country?
Can a smile really ruin your day?
Do lost souls find their way back eventually?
Or do they wander alone forever?
I’m not sure of that, just like
I’m not sure whether Pluto is aware
of the fact that it is no longer a planet.
Do planets have conscious minds like human beings?
Could we just communicate with them across space and time
and deep expanses of space?
No, we haven’t the technology.
Perhaps we never will.
We’re too busy debating about aborted fetuses,
various social anxieties and abnormalities,
when what we need to focus on
slips silently into oblivion.
Produce for the starving,
movement of tanks in far-off deserts,
are these all just far-flung hopes we’ll never see through?
When the time comes, I will gladly jump
from the highest precipice with you,
no questions asked. It will be great
to not exist for once, to n’existe pas with you
where wars are only things we read about in history books
or reenact with toy swords in our backyards.
Where calendar dates dissolve,
like plump hands now turned to bone,
we will not exist with fingers crossed and eyes wide shut.
“Fractions fit together never form the whole”,
therefore, whole is but a lie.
Parts long to touch but never align just right.
Every morning, we’ve less eyelashes, hair,
fingernails, thoughts. Are we nothing but imperfections?
Entropy seems so vast, yet
it cannot exist without loss of the whole –
which, in its nonexistence,
cancels out the universe.
I was lost once. But no longer.
A verbless noun still stands on its own.
The girl born four-fingered cannot knit,
she lacks opposable thumbs and therefore
cannot declare a thumb war.
I win by default.
We will live like kings when society lies in ruins.
We will fashion houses out of twigs,
and rejoice, even when our hair grows grey,
even if we set our souls afire
just to watch them burn.
And each part of the whole will fall,
like leaves in Autumn,
the sun rays in your eyes.
The world will revolve around your lips
and I will write you love sonnets.
Where there is no ink, I will use blood.
I shall be the new Shakespeare.
Our lives will join together,
like a bruise progressing backwards,
like your sweater unraveling into spools of thread.
What of when we will exist purely in soul?
When the moon ceases to reflect sunlight,
when our parachutes refuse to unfurl so
we plummet.
I’m ill-equipped for skydiving,
less so for rejection.
You hand me my words,
we’ll toast incongruity
like we’re defining wicked
(Shaken Baby Syndrome).
Ten feet under salt and sea,
yet still I attempt breathing as your fingers unlace
me, I’m a flower in bloom.
We’re no love out of convenience,
even if we are, forgive me, but
I’d rather cling to my vain, tortured semblance of romance.
I’d not give it up for my weight in gold.
I’d rather be useless and beautiful,
like a plastic fruit display in the heart of the Sahara,
then admit my whole existence exists purely in my own imagination.
I will savor our game of pretend,
played out amongst this meaningless war,
this corrupt society which we are forced to inhabit
until our veins cease to function,
heart’s slowing their rhythmic pump.
I hope my pale visage is the last thing you ever see.
Nothing stays whole. Everything splinters
into shards, fragments of ‘used to be’,
‘never was’, or ‘might have been’.
We work hard for simplicity.
Once gained, it seems meaningless,
as do our lives,
and each part of the world falls off,
or, so it seems to the untrained eye,
the disbeliever at Pompeii
who claims no harm, no foul,
even when magma turns his feet to stone,
or the unseeing, all-knowing
scholar of the ancient world who follows Copernicus,
proclaiming ‘oh yes, the sun revolves around the earth,
of course!’ and ‘That Galileo is a madman!’
Will we always be led by incompetent blunderers
happy to parrot the ideas of others
while letting their brains turn to ash?
What if Columbus, deterred by erroneous minds,
had conceded that he was wrong,
the earth was indeed flat,
allowing himself to be locked away while
his boats turned to moldy remnants, his
sailors disappearing over the edge of the world?
Can we be so easily mistaken for sheep,
or swine, or cattle even?
Do our feelings mean so little to our tiny brains that we
block them out, block ourselves out
of our enriched fantasy lives?
Can emotion run a country?
Can a smile really ruin your day?
Do lost souls find their way back eventually?
Or do they wander alone forever?
I’m not sure of that, just like
I’m not sure whether Pluto is aware
of the fact that it is no longer a planet.
Do planets have conscious minds like human beings?
Could we just communicate with them across space and time
and deep expanses of space?
No, we haven’t the technology.
Perhaps we never will.
We’re too busy debating about aborted fetuses,
various social anxieties and abnormalities,
when what we need to focus on
slips silently into oblivion.
Produce for the starving,
movement of tanks in far-off deserts,
are these all just far-flung hopes we’ll never see through?
When the time comes, I will gladly jump
from the highest precipice with you,
no questions asked. It will be great
to not exist for once, to n’existe pas with you
where wars are only things we read about in history books
or reenact with toy swords in our backyards.
Where calendar dates dissolve,
like plump hands now turned to bone,
we will not exist with fingers crossed and eyes wide shut.
“Fractions fit together never form the whole”,
therefore, whole is but a lie.
Parts long to touch but never align just right.
Every morning, we’ve less eyelashes, hair,
fingernails, thoughts. Are we nothing but imperfections?
Entropy seems so vast, yet
it cannot exist without loss of the whole –
which, in its nonexistence,
cancels out the universe.
I was lost once. But no longer.
A verbless noun still stands on its own.
The girl born four-fingered cannot knit,
she lacks opposable thumbs and therefore
cannot declare a thumb war.
I win by default.
We will live like kings when society lies in ruins.
We will fashion houses out of twigs,
and rejoice, even when our hair grows grey,
even if we set our souls afire
just to watch them burn.
And each part of the whole will fall,
like leaves in Autumn,
the sun rays in your eyes.
The world will revolve around your lips
and I will write you love sonnets.
Where there is no ink, I will use blood.
I shall be the new Shakespeare.
Our lives will join together,
like a bruise progressing backwards,
like your sweater unraveling into spools of thread.
What of when we will exist purely in soul?
When the moon ceases to reflect sunlight,
when our parachutes refuse to unfurl so
we plummet.
I’m ill-equipped for skydiving,
less so for rejection.
You hand me my words,
we’ll toast incongruity
like we’re defining wicked
(Shaken Baby Syndrome).
Ten feet under salt and sea,
yet still I attempt breathing as your fingers unlace
me, I’m a flower in bloom.
We’re no love out of convenience,
even if we are, forgive me, but
I’d rather cling to my vain, tortured semblance of romance.
I’d not give it up for my weight in gold.
I’d rather be useless and beautiful,
like a plastic fruit display in the heart of the Sahara,
then admit my whole existence exists purely in my own imagination.
I will savor our game of pretend,
played out amongst this meaningless war,
this corrupt society which we are forced to inhabit
until our veins cease to function,
heart’s slowing their rhythmic pump.
I hope my pale visage is the last thing you ever see.
Just Because
Just Because
Because life has no backspace option,
no eraser large enough
to rub you out,
I’m left to shred Polaroids
into my red metal wastebasket.
The walls, stripped bare
of frozen moments
seem to echo my thoughts,
so empty,
you could hear a pin drop.
Because you tire of this,
so quickly, your eyes black
as you delivered a speech
devoid of emotion –
“I don’t think we mesh well”
and “Let’s just be friends” –
because this existed,
I rip myself into pieces
to hand out like party favors.
Because life has no backspace option,
no eraser large enough
to rub you out,
I’m left to shred Polaroids
into my red metal wastebasket.
The walls, stripped bare
of frozen moments
seem to echo my thoughts,
so empty,
you could hear a pin drop.
Because you tire of this,
so quickly, your eyes black
as you delivered a speech
devoid of emotion –
“I don’t think we mesh well”
and “Let’s just be friends” –
because this existed,
I rip myself into pieces
to hand out like party favors.
Carousel
Carousel
Child’s eye sees everything
gigantic, never-ending.
Maybe it’s because we are so small
that even playground structures
seem skyscrapers in the sand.
I remember spinning around the Disney carousel,
horse the size of an elephant
ebbing and flowing underneath me,
Cinderella castle rising, magnificent and huge
in the background.
My vision blurred, I clung to reins,
the only tie retaining me on this earth.
It was, in a word, terrifying.
Child’s eye sees everything
gigantic, never-ending.
Maybe it’s because we are so small
that even playground structures
seem skyscrapers in the sand.
I remember spinning around the Disney carousel,
horse the size of an elephant
ebbing and flowing underneath me,
Cinderella castle rising, magnificent and huge
in the background.
My vision blurred, I clung to reins,
the only tie retaining me on this earth.
It was, in a word, terrifying.
Dear B –
Dear B –
I will follow your rules
to a point, but then –
I will wait no longer.
I’m afraid my patience wears thin
very, very quickly, my dear.
Your hands are warm, in mine,
or on the small of my back,
but we’re afraid of each other’s reactions,
aren’t we now?
This fear turns my moments to awkward embraces.
Maybe we’re both just sending mixed signals,
confusing this maybe relationship to
almost beyond repair,
you stringing me along
like a yoyo on a broken string,
me repeating the same words
“but I can’t, I can’t”.
I will follow your rules
to a point, but then –
I will wait no longer.
I’m afraid my patience wears thin
very, very quickly, my dear.
Your hands are warm, in mine,
or on the small of my back,
but we’re afraid of each other’s reactions,
aren’t we now?
This fear turns my moments to awkward embraces.
Maybe we’re both just sending mixed signals,
confusing this maybe relationship to
almost beyond repair,
you stringing me along
like a yoyo on a broken string,
me repeating the same words
“but I can’t, I can’t”.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Heavy Metal: Goes with Silk
Heavy Metal: Goes with Silk
Your lips, my neck.
My entire existence wraps around you.
Can passion solve all the world’s troubles
or does it just cause them?
What did our ancestors know of love like this?
Their pretense, devoid of lust, sweet carnal desire.
Corseted, full-skirted women,
Gentlemanly handshakes, stern-faced chaperones.
Could they ever have imagined love like this?
Fevered, inspired, driven
almost to the point of madness,
to that point of sweet, spinning starlight,
the creation of universes,
the unbroken silence in the aftermath of our union.
Your lips, my neck.
You whisper words of devotion
and I am devoid of all conflict,
still and silent in your eyes.
You are the pull of the ocean,
making me content just to lie here
and let you crash over me all night.
Your lips, my neck.
My entire existence wraps around you.
Can passion solve all the world’s troubles
or does it just cause them?
What did our ancestors know of love like this?
Their pretense, devoid of lust, sweet carnal desire.
Corseted, full-skirted women,
Gentlemanly handshakes, stern-faced chaperones.
Could they ever have imagined love like this?
Fevered, inspired, driven
almost to the point of madness,
to that point of sweet, spinning starlight,
the creation of universes,
the unbroken silence in the aftermath of our union.
Your lips, my neck.
You whisper words of devotion
and I am devoid of all conflict,
still and silent in your eyes.
You are the pull of the ocean,
making me content just to lie here
and let you crash over me all night.
No Details About Risk
No Details About Risk
Are you the unspoken link between Heaven and Hell?
Clasped hands, cold sweat,
you’re clinging to shreds of what was.
It is no longer, maybe it never has been.
Maybe it’s some half-cocked fantasy
dredged up from the wells of your fevered imagination.
I think I am, too.
Don’t you see how translucent we are?
Like panes of glass in an armored car
shattered by the sniper’s blow,
we’ll fall to pieces any moment
leaving blood on the stairs
for the police to find.
Shin bone, jaw bone,
jagged fracture here, due to high pressure,
no sign of a bullet wound,
or a struggle.
Are you the unspoken link between Heaven and Hell?
Clasped hands, cold sweat,
you’re clinging to shreds of what was.
It is no longer, maybe it never has been.
Maybe it’s some half-cocked fantasy
dredged up from the wells of your fevered imagination.
I think I am, too.
Don’t you see how translucent we are?
Like panes of glass in an armored car
shattered by the sniper’s blow,
we’ll fall to pieces any moment
leaving blood on the stairs
for the police to find.
Shin bone, jaw bone,
jagged fracture here, due to high pressure,
no sign of a bullet wound,
or a struggle.
The Fourth Wall is Broken
The Fourth Wall is Broken
Let the blood seep.
It is only necessary to live,
why worry needlessly?
She is not afraid, so neither should you be.
The floodgate machinery is operational,
to say the least.
It won’t break down again, they say.
Although, we hired that Disney engineer
and God knows,
if we get stuck on “It’s a Small World” one more time,
I won’t hesitate to kill him off.
I’d rather tears.
Let the blood seep.
It is only necessary to live,
why worry needlessly?
She is not afraid, so neither should you be.
The floodgate machinery is operational,
to say the least.
It won’t break down again, they say.
Although, we hired that Disney engineer
and God knows,
if we get stuck on “It’s a Small World” one more time,
I won’t hesitate to kill him off.
I’d rather tears.
Saturday, October 27, 2007
Dinnertime
Dinnertime
You are not my story to tell.
Daddy just hit mommy at the dinner table
and now we’re all scrambling
for anything at all to say
to break this silence.
Action…reaction.
You slide the green beans off your plate,
I watch the dog swallow them whole.
We’ll be coughing up blood
for years to come.
You are not my story to tell.
Daddy just hit mommy at the dinner table
and now we’re all scrambling
for anything at all to say
to break this silence.
Action…reaction.
You slide the green beans off your plate,
I watch the dog swallow them whole.
We’ll be coughing up blood
for years to come.
Galaxy
Galaxy
Here on the bridge of uncertainty
in the very spiraling center of the universe,
you are three stars to the right
and I am living in a galaxy full,
of my fears of rejection.
Pull the swinging step,
a ladder of broken windowpanes
leading straight to Saturn,
where I will paint your eyes a million times over
to show you that I would be devoted,
for devotion does exist.
Swirling sunlight stings my bare arms,
leaving me raw as hamburger,
raw as my tender, beating heart.
Here on the bridge of uncertainty
in the very spiraling center of the universe,
you are three stars to the right
and I am living in a galaxy full,
of my fears of rejection.
Pull the swinging step,
a ladder of broken windowpanes
leading straight to Saturn,
where I will paint your eyes a million times over
to show you that I would be devoted,
for devotion does exist.
Swirling sunlight stings my bare arms,
leaving me raw as hamburger,
raw as my tender, beating heart.
Specifically – You
Specifically – You
The way her hair fell in her eyes,
fragments of a deep pupil and iris
peeking through delicate, dark curtains.
His fingers, rough-padded,
but soft upon her lily-white skin,
swirled across her cheeks,
forming the permanent blush
that lives there even now.
Electric currents between them:
they are two points on a continuous line
with no eyes but those for one another.
Arms curl around curved backs,
rounded legs and stomachs,
holding tightly to every thread of life.
Her eyes, his eyes,
they part and meet and fuse –
every motion slows.
The world turns and they
are the single spinning point
of the universe.
The way her hair fell in her eyes,
fragments of a deep pupil and iris
peeking through delicate, dark curtains.
His fingers, rough-padded,
but soft upon her lily-white skin,
swirled across her cheeks,
forming the permanent blush
that lives there even now.
Electric currents between them:
they are two points on a continuous line
with no eyes but those for one another.
Arms curl around curved backs,
rounded legs and stomachs,
holding tightly to every thread of life.
Her eyes, his eyes,
they part and meet and fuse –
every motion slows.
The world turns and they
are the single spinning point
of the universe.
Falling in Love
Falling in Love
Why do they call it falling? I understand why it would come to mind when one is stumbling, crashing, tripping, fumbling into love with someone when it’s unrequited. When it hurts. When it’s wrong. When it’s ignored and left to crumble into nothingness in the cold, unfeeling Winter wind. When it’s crushed under an uncaring heel, and all you’re left with is shreds of your heart and dignity. But what of love when it’s grand? Returned. Right. Wonderful. When it’s taken in and lifted up and held close to the other’s heart and caressed tenderly by loving hands? Falling does not apply then. Floating. Flying. Soaring. Rollercoaster, excited riders bursting for the thrill. Seagulls circling, lofty upon the breeze, lighting upon the white capped ocean waves. Twirling. Spinning. All light and stars and deep-ocean-blue, golden sunshine and molten sunsets, flowers blooming from between your fingertips.
I have tasted that love, that feeling, once. Yet now, I fear it is gone forever.
Why do they call it falling? I understand why it would come to mind when one is stumbling, crashing, tripping, fumbling into love with someone when it’s unrequited. When it hurts. When it’s wrong. When it’s ignored and left to crumble into nothingness in the cold, unfeeling Winter wind. When it’s crushed under an uncaring heel, and all you’re left with is shreds of your heart and dignity. But what of love when it’s grand? Returned. Right. Wonderful. When it’s taken in and lifted up and held close to the other’s heart and caressed tenderly by loving hands? Falling does not apply then. Floating. Flying. Soaring. Rollercoaster, excited riders bursting for the thrill. Seagulls circling, lofty upon the breeze, lighting upon the white capped ocean waves. Twirling. Spinning. All light and stars and deep-ocean-blue, golden sunshine and molten sunsets, flowers blooming from between your fingertips.
I have tasted that love, that feeling, once. Yet now, I fear it is gone forever.
Equus
Equus
Bright-eyed foal
I scratch onto ancient parchment,
hind legs kicked up,
head thrown back merrily.
This is my foal.
I’ll sketch my bridle round its nose,
take the reins into my hands to control him.
Yet, he will remain,
long after I am dust within the ground,
dark back twisted in the air,
legs thrown out towards the sky.
The white patch between his eyes
glows in the darkness.
Bright-eyed foal
I scratch onto ancient parchment,
hind legs kicked up,
head thrown back merrily.
This is my foal.
I’ll sketch my bridle round its nose,
take the reins into my hands to control him.
Yet, he will remain,
long after I am dust within the ground,
dark back twisted in the air,
legs thrown out towards the sky.
The white patch between his eyes
glows in the darkness.
Sweetness
Sweetness
Caught, like the mosquitoes of old
struggling in amber
til it encased them,
whole and perfect.
We are sinners in the night’s dark embrace,
fumbling with zippers and buckles,
fingers and lips and thighs.
Don’t liken sex to dinosaurs hunting –
velicoraptors stalking in their merry band
with deadly claws unsheathed and waiting,
ready to leap upon their prey.
My opinions on you
aren’t worth much more
than a child’s indecipherable scribbling
on otherwise pristine walls.
Decipher my loops, my lightning bolts,
they really mean one thing –
devotion.
Caught, like the mosquitoes of old
struggling in amber
til it encased them,
whole and perfect.
We are sinners in the night’s dark embrace,
fumbling with zippers and buckles,
fingers and lips and thighs.
Don’t liken sex to dinosaurs hunting –
velicoraptors stalking in their merry band
with deadly claws unsheathed and waiting,
ready to leap upon their prey.
My opinions on you
aren’t worth much more
than a child’s indecipherable scribbling
on otherwise pristine walls.
Decipher my loops, my lightning bolts,
they really mean one thing –
devotion.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Ebola
Ebola
Pull together my shattered ribs,
the shreds of muscle laying within
still beat some morbid tattoo upon my skin.
Dig your fingers in deep enough
to reach straining lungs,
failing kidneys,
weeping organs, liquefying.
Don’t stay, don’t get too near,
the end is creeping up on me –
ready to bring forth the crimson tides
from every orifice,
jerking limbs,
mouth spraying,
drenching every wall crayola red.
Everyone within this room is doomed.
Every inch of my life’s blood
is bursting, bursting
with death and virus smarter
than our scientists could ever imagine.
The nurse who lifts her scarlet-stained hand
to her mouth, in disbelief,
the doctor who wipes his eyes
leaving a mask of ruby-red,
and you – standing watch over me,
with your face and arms covered
in my sweet vein-song.
You will all meet your untimely ends
just
like
me.
Pull together my shattered ribs,
the shreds of muscle laying within
still beat some morbid tattoo upon my skin.
Dig your fingers in deep enough
to reach straining lungs,
failing kidneys,
weeping organs, liquefying.
Don’t stay, don’t get too near,
the end is creeping up on me –
ready to bring forth the crimson tides
from every orifice,
jerking limbs,
mouth spraying,
drenching every wall crayola red.
Everyone within this room is doomed.
Every inch of my life’s blood
is bursting, bursting
with death and virus smarter
than our scientists could ever imagine.
The nurse who lifts her scarlet-stained hand
to her mouth, in disbelief,
the doctor who wipes his eyes
leaving a mask of ruby-red,
and you – standing watch over me,
with your face and arms covered
in my sweet vein-song.
You will all meet your untimely ends
just
like
me.
Here Lies the Bride
Here Lies the Bride
Ink-stained hands wrap
around sheared-off silk,
fastened into a makeshift wedding dress –
she’ll wander down the aisle alone,
searching for a groom.
Wilted flower bouquet lays abandoned
on the molten sidewalk,
next to a Polaroid of her veiled face.
With nowhere to hide,
nowhere to transform her longing
into something tangible,
she becomes the poem.
Ink-stained hands wrap
around sheared-off silk,
fastened into a makeshift wedding dress –
she’ll wander down the aisle alone,
searching for a groom.
Wilted flower bouquet lays abandoned
on the molten sidewalk,
next to a Polaroid of her veiled face.
With nowhere to hide,
nowhere to transform her longing
into something tangible,
she becomes the poem.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
The Language Barrier
The Language Barrier
White face smudges
round my otherwise rosy lips,
a glove under my covers
or a striped scarf tied round my wrist.
The remnants of red lipstick on my pillowcase,
eyeliner smeared across my chest.
And every single morning I struggle
to release myself from this infernal
invisible box.
It’s not easy,
loving a mime.
White face smudges
round my otherwise rosy lips,
a glove under my covers
or a striped scarf tied round my wrist.
The remnants of red lipstick on my pillowcase,
eyeliner smeared across my chest.
And every single morning I struggle
to release myself from this infernal
invisible box.
It’s not easy,
loving a mime.
Fingers Chasing Toes
Fingers Chasing Toes
I was seven.
My mother told me –
“swim towards the bottom,
I’ll do the rest”.
I gulped air into my lungs,
filling them to the point of bursting
and dove.
Eyes closed,
under water is a frightening place
where every second seems close to death,
at least when you’re that young.
Just when I thought I’d die for sure,
hands pushed against my back.
My eyes shot open just in time
to see the world flip,
and then I was above,
sputtering.
I was seven.
My mother told me –
“swim towards the bottom,
I’ll do the rest”.
I gulped air into my lungs,
filling them to the point of bursting
and dove.
Eyes closed,
under water is a frightening place
where every second seems close to death,
at least when you’re that young.
Just when I thought I’d die for sure,
hands pushed against my back.
My eyes shot open just in time
to see the world flip,
and then I was above,
sputtering.
Ocho Rios
Ocho Rios
She draws with charcoal
on long sheets of oblivion (obsidian),
long-winged butterflies
above willowy grasses
blowing in the breeze.
Her hands move faster
than when they spin reeds into baskets
sold at the market for the lowest price
haggled for by sunburnt tourists.
When she turns her burnt face to the sun,
there is nothing but clouds,
ganja is thick in the air
from where the men sit carving elephants,
turtles, horses,
out of balsa wood.
She draws with charcoal
on long sheets of oblivion (obsidian),
long-winged butterflies
above willowy grasses
blowing in the breeze.
Her hands move faster
than when they spin reeds into baskets
sold at the market for the lowest price
haggled for by sunburnt tourists.
When she turns her burnt face to the sun,
there is nothing but clouds,
ganja is thick in the air
from where the men sit carving elephants,
turtles, horses,
out of balsa wood.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
In Loving Memorandum
In Loving Memorandum
Flesh withers as if summer flora
killed
by Autumn’s first chill.
She was the breeze on sultry days
and all of what we shaped from clay
could not compare to her form.
Lips like bees with their constant buzzing,
eyes like caves sunken
in contrast to the marks
like ants,
crawling over the powdery blue veins
at the insides of her elbows.
When they found her
she was curled inside the bathtub
in the alleyway between Main and 43rd.
Hands like birds crashed into glass
and legs like toothpicks snapped in half
her pale visage told her tale.
We wept.
Her head we found pillowed
amid shattered TV sets,
emptied bottles clutched in deadened hands,
remnants of her last supper –
razor sharp broken needle tips,
the plunger.
When we lowered her into the earth,
her mother cried, we laughed in mirth
for never had one dead looked so at peace.
Her eyes would ever more gaze
upon the lost sun’s rays
of which she will continue to outshine.
And to dust shall we return.
Flesh withers as if summer flora
killed
by Autumn’s first chill.
She was the breeze on sultry days
and all of what we shaped from clay
could not compare to her form.
Lips like bees with their constant buzzing,
eyes like caves sunken
in contrast to the marks
like ants,
crawling over the powdery blue veins
at the insides of her elbows.
When they found her
she was curled inside the bathtub
in the alleyway between Main and 43rd.
Hands like birds crashed into glass
and legs like toothpicks snapped in half
her pale visage told her tale.
We wept.
Her head we found pillowed
amid shattered TV sets,
emptied bottles clutched in deadened hands,
remnants of her last supper –
razor sharp broken needle tips,
the plunger.
When we lowered her into the earth,
her mother cried, we laughed in mirth
for never had one dead looked so at peace.
Her eyes would ever more gaze
upon the lost sun’s rays
of which she will continue to outshine.
And to dust shall we return.
A Sonnet on Death
A Sonnet on Death
I dreamt I had died in a stranger’s place
where nobody knew my name.
There wasn’t among them a familiar face,
yet they treated me just the same
as they would have one of their own,
though stranger was I to them.
They took my body into their home,
made ready the coffin then.
In lace and silk they dressed me clean,
combed my hair and smoothed my face.
Then sat they to eat a dinner so lean,
before laying me in my place.
The gravedigger dug his hole, six feet deep,
to embrace me in my eternal sleep.
I dreamt I had died in a stranger’s place
where nobody knew my name.
There wasn’t among them a familiar face,
yet they treated me just the same
as they would have one of their own,
though stranger was I to them.
They took my body into their home,
made ready the coffin then.
In lace and silk they dressed me clean,
combed my hair and smoothed my face.
Then sat they to eat a dinner so lean,
before laying me in my place.
The gravedigger dug his hole, six feet deep,
to embrace me in my eternal sleep.
Written for the Storm During Literary Studies
Written for the Storm During Literary Studies
Raindrops caress parched dirt
where every blade of grass
yearns upwards, sighing
in the sudden onslaught of moisture.
I sit, trapped, behind fluorescent bars,
longing for the freedom storms bring.
Lightning dance ‘cross my eyelids,
like a pelican skimming ocean waves.
Outside thunder roars,
inside my mind turns to Yeats,
word definitions,
discord of booming professor’s voice,
student feedback.
My heart numbs but every beat screams for you.
Raindrops caress parched dirt
where every blade of grass
yearns upwards, sighing
in the sudden onslaught of moisture.
I sit, trapped, behind fluorescent bars,
longing for the freedom storms bring.
Lightning dance ‘cross my eyelids,
like a pelican skimming ocean waves.
Outside thunder roars,
inside my mind turns to Yeats,
word definitions,
discord of booming professor’s voice,
student feedback.
My heart numbs but every beat screams for you.
Fakes
Fakes
Let’s raise our glasses,
a solemn toast to mediocrity
no vintage glamour glitter rock star
here.
Leather cracks, hairlines recede,
and all your records fall into obscurity.
How much would you dish out
for your fabled fifteen minutes of fame?
Sacrifice vocal chords, eyesight,
bone structure,
and all the love ever known.
Become that vision of lust and longing,
poster-pinup child material
for a teeny-bopper’s photo wall.
False perfection.
Let’s raise our glasses,
a solemn toast to mediocrity
no vintage glamour glitter rock star
here.
Leather cracks, hairlines recede,
and all your records fall into obscurity.
How much would you dish out
for your fabled fifteen minutes of fame?
Sacrifice vocal chords, eyesight,
bone structure,
and all the love ever known.
Become that vision of lust and longing,
poster-pinup child material
for a teeny-bopper’s photo wall.
False perfection.
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
Chasm
Chasm
I cannot breathe as deep as the Grand Canyon
with all its valleys and hidden places,
that age-old wound
watching with its heavy-lidded eyes
ancient in its silence.
This between us is no blank canvas –
bloodied fingers, buckled legs, cold eyes
and you refuse to see past.
Paint-winged butterflies carried on the breeze
go by like carnival-coloured clouds
but every inch of sky is gray, gray, gray.
My lungs collapse.
I cannot breathe as deep as the Grand Canyon,
for never have I tried.
I cannot breathe as deep as the Grand Canyon
with all its valleys and hidden places,
that age-old wound
watching with its heavy-lidded eyes
ancient in its silence.
This between us is no blank canvas –
bloodied fingers, buckled legs, cold eyes
and you refuse to see past.
Paint-winged butterflies carried on the breeze
go by like carnival-coloured clouds
but every inch of sky is gray, gray, gray.
My lungs collapse.
I cannot breathe as deep as the Grand Canyon,
for never have I tried.
Developing
Developing
I can write you no sonnet,
my thoughts don’t lend themselves
to easy rhyming.
Ink-stained hands leave
charcoal-colored smudges
across this blank expanse of paper,
turning words into monochrome butterflies
chained to this pen of mine.
When it all comes down to it,
“I love you” just doesn’t cut it
it never really did.
My feelings for you are too fierce
to put down on paper –
they would shatter cave walls
destroying all art that’s come before,
leaving dust in their path.
And to dust shall we always return.
I can write you no sonnet,
my thoughts don’t lend themselves
to easy rhyming.
Ink-stained hands leave
charcoal-colored smudges
across this blank expanse of paper,
turning words into monochrome butterflies
chained to this pen of mine.
When it all comes down to it,
“I love you” just doesn’t cut it
it never really did.
My feelings for you are too fierce
to put down on paper –
they would shatter cave walls
destroying all art that’s come before,
leaving dust in their path.
And to dust shall we always return.
Flying
Flying
The rhythm in your skin
drowns out all reason.
“Why are we here?” it screams.
Resisting all bonds
all locks and chains,
you cannot be captured.
There is nothing left to lose
save for your plush velvet eyes,
lengthy limbs and tumultuous vocals.
Can we learn to fly without wings?
The rhythm in your skin
drowns out all reason.
“Why are we here?” it screams.
Resisting all bonds
all locks and chains,
you cannot be captured.
There is nothing left to lose
save for your plush velvet eyes,
lengthy limbs and tumultuous vocals.
Can we learn to fly without wings?
Breaking
Breaking
This is an ending, not a beginning.
You will write each poem off as just another fancy,
and I will continue furtively sending
crumpled scraps of poetry to every newspaper in town,
in my desperate attempts to finally strike gold.
I am a sunset in vivid fuchsia and turquoise,
streaking neon bright across the sky
but you, with your cracked ribs, vacant unblinking eyes,
blinding-white teeth, you are nothing.
When we fall it will be in pieces,
like a child’s puzzle torn apart.
This is an ending, not a beginning.
You will write each poem off as just another fancy,
and I will continue furtively sending
crumpled scraps of poetry to every newspaper in town,
in my desperate attempts to finally strike gold.
I am a sunset in vivid fuchsia and turquoise,
streaking neon bright across the sky
but you, with your cracked ribs, vacant unblinking eyes,
blinding-white teeth, you are nothing.
When we fall it will be in pieces,
like a child’s puzzle torn apart.
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
Devour
Devour
darkness brings
raking fingernails,
bruising lips and hungry eyes
teeth that sink into pale, ivory expanses
of snow-covered hills and valleys.
When eyesight fails,
trust the rhythm of hips and heartbeats.
hands that long have dreamed on touch
find purchase, grasping folds of flesh
scorching every spot with their torrid touch.
in the night, everyone is a sinner,
slave to heaving breasts and tremulous fingers
pressing into the delicate places
between stomach and hips and thighs.
bodies arch and quiver
fingertips gliding over the smooth surfaces of skin
each shiver, each breath drawn inward by a lover with a gasp
rings divine off their forms
as they dissolve into nothingness, spent.
darkness brings
raking fingernails,
bruising lips and hungry eyes
teeth that sink into pale, ivory expanses
of snow-covered hills and valleys.
When eyesight fails,
trust the rhythm of hips and heartbeats.
hands that long have dreamed on touch
find purchase, grasping folds of flesh
scorching every spot with their torrid touch.
in the night, everyone is a sinner,
slave to heaving breasts and tremulous fingers
pressing into the delicate places
between stomach and hips and thighs.
bodies arch and quiver
fingertips gliding over the smooth surfaces of skin
each shiver, each breath drawn inward by a lover with a gasp
rings divine off their forms
as they dissolve into nothingness, spent.
Splitting
Splitting
ruined lace
split apart
by the brute force of your rude, fumbling hands.
nothing is meant to stay whole anyways,
like cheap Christmas light bulbs
winking on and off and finally off forever
and fingers are twisting,
yearning for the peak, the pinnacle.
breath siphoning through squeezed lungs
don’t rush, do, don’t, do,
please, please don’t stop not even for a moment. Don’t stop
until blood cells burst
temporal lobe explodes
ribs crack open, like those of a corpse on the autopsy table.
let calves and thighs and hips and arms and shoulders and fingers and even toes feel,
feel and clench and yearn and yearn
and release, release, release
until skin is all that remains to separate;
melting away, peeling back like the skin of an orange
leaving nothing but muscle and bone and red, beating heart.
ruined lace
split apart
by the brute force of your rude, fumbling hands.
nothing is meant to stay whole anyways,
like cheap Christmas light bulbs
winking on and off and finally off forever
and fingers are twisting,
yearning for the peak, the pinnacle.
breath siphoning through squeezed lungs
don’t rush, do, don’t, do,
please, please don’t stop not even for a moment. Don’t stop
until blood cells burst
temporal lobe explodes
ribs crack open, like those of a corpse on the autopsy table.
let calves and thighs and hips and arms and shoulders and fingers and even toes feel,
feel and clench and yearn and yearn
and release, release, release
until skin is all that remains to separate;
melting away, peeling back like the skin of an orange
leaving nothing but muscle and bone and red, beating heart.
Contact
Contact
(this is a rewrite of "Untitled")
I long to be the raindrops
glistening on your skin.
The wind blows through my veins,
I’m alone again.
Stitch my eyes shut,
you’re a splendor overwhelming to behold.
Fill my hands
I need more, more, MORE.
Bring me to the edge
of the wordless,
where nothing but our primal urges
will spilt the night,
in two.
I crave the stars in utter clarity.
Wound me with your touch,
be my undoing.
This is where our eyes meet,
and this, and this, and this -
this is where I slip,
off the counter,
off the edge,
into departure of reason and sanity.
(this is a rewrite of "Untitled")
I long to be the raindrops
glistening on your skin.
The wind blows through my veins,
I’m alone again.
Stitch my eyes shut,
you’re a splendor overwhelming to behold.
Fill my hands
I need more, more, MORE.
Bring me to the edge
of the wordless,
where nothing but our primal urges
will spilt the night,
in two.
I crave the stars in utter clarity.
Wound me with your touch,
be my undoing.
This is where our eyes meet,
and this, and this, and this -
this is where I slip,
off the counter,
off the edge,
into departure of reason and sanity.
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Untitled (as of yet)
I long to be the raindrops
glistening on your skin.
The wind blows through my veins,
I'm alone again.
Wishing on stars never works for me,
you see.
Stitch my eyes shut,
I'm not worthy to behold you.
Fill my hands
I need more, more, more.
You bring me to the edge of the wordless,
where nothing but our primal urges
will spilt the night in two.
I long to see the stars
in utter clarity,
I need to be wounded by your touch,
by my own undoing.
This is where our eyes meet,
and this, and this -
this is where I slip
silent,
into oblivion.
glistening on your skin.
The wind blows through my veins,
I'm alone again.
Wishing on stars never works for me,
you see.
Stitch my eyes shut,
I'm not worthy to behold you.
Fill my hands
I need more, more, more.
You bring me to the edge of the wordless,
where nothing but our primal urges
will spilt the night in two.
I long to see the stars
in utter clarity,
I need to be wounded by your touch,
by my own undoing.
This is where our eyes meet,
and this, and this -
this is where I slip
silent,
into oblivion.
Monday, August 06, 2007
In Another Life
In Another Life
The sheets of rain against the window
remind me of your eyes,
so blue and wet like the ocean.
You used to drown me in them.
We were never as simple as an algebra problem,
leaning more towards complicated equations
things that made my head spin.
You were Romeo in doublet & tights,
I, your Juliet, in empire-waisted gown.
We were perfect right up til the end:
your cold lips and empty glass,
my blood-soaked robe and shaking hands.
In another life I loved you as I do now.
We were Cleopatra & Antony,
Edward Scissorhands and Kim,
Jack and Sally.
Doomed lovers, we are, in all our glory.
In another life,
I loved you as I do now –
obsessed, morbid,
til the bittersweet ending
curtain fall.
The sheets of rain against the window
remind me of your eyes,
so blue and wet like the ocean.
You used to drown me in them.
We were never as simple as an algebra problem,
leaning more towards complicated equations
things that made my head spin.
You were Romeo in doublet & tights,
I, your Juliet, in empire-waisted gown.
We were perfect right up til the end:
your cold lips and empty glass,
my blood-soaked robe and shaking hands.
In another life I loved you as I do now.
We were Cleopatra & Antony,
Edward Scissorhands and Kim,
Jack and Sally.
Doomed lovers, we are, in all our glory.
In another life,
I loved you as I do now –
obsessed, morbid,
til the bittersweet ending
curtain fall.
Monday, July 30, 2007
Human After All
Human After All
Heartbeats turn to whispered murmurs,
heaving breaths to nothing but lies.
She’s a beauty wrapped in bones and skin,
just something to keep the organs in.
Delicate hands, birdlike in their delicacy,
legs long and capable of covering miles.
Her eyes are the deepest colors of May,
just something to keep the flames at bay.
Her body is fragile and broken anew,
lying motionless beneath the autumn leaves.
Her lips are cold, blue and thin,
just something to keep her truth within.
The branches scratch the august sky,
scattering crisp leaves across the ground.
She is nothing but bones and skin,
just something to keep the organs in.
Her hands, her eyes, her body, her lips,
she is nothing but legs and hips,
the splay of her fingers
and the curve of her ribs.
She is nothing but bones, blood,
and skin.
Heartbeats turn to whispered murmurs,
heaving breaths to nothing but lies.
She’s a beauty wrapped in bones and skin,
just something to keep the organs in.
Delicate hands, birdlike in their delicacy,
legs long and capable of covering miles.
Her eyes are the deepest colors of May,
just something to keep the flames at bay.
Her body is fragile and broken anew,
lying motionless beneath the autumn leaves.
Her lips are cold, blue and thin,
just something to keep her truth within.
The branches scratch the august sky,
scattering crisp leaves across the ground.
She is nothing but bones and skin,
just something to keep the organs in.
Her hands, her eyes, her body, her lips,
she is nothing but legs and hips,
the splay of her fingers
and the curve of her ribs.
She is nothing but bones, blood,
and skin.
“I Love You”
“I Love You”
Carry this with you,
place it in an unbreakable locket,
twine it ‘round your wrist
if it’s too much for your neck to handle.
Wouldn’t want to impinge upon your masculinity.
Lock it away in a safe, perhaps
where no one but you knows the code,
or better yet make it voice-activated.
Tuck it in your pocket
but don’t forget about it,
wouldn’t want it to shrink in the wash.
Or maybe you should just destroy it,
maybe its better off destroyed,
left unsaid –
rip it in half
or burn it
or refuse to take it from my trembling lips.
It means nothing,
or does it mean everything?
You were never quite sure
and now I doubt you can even handle it,
but here it is anyways.
Foolish words for a foolish man,
unworthy and unknowing.
Keep them well.
Carry this with you,
place it in an unbreakable locket,
twine it ‘round your wrist
if it’s too much for your neck to handle.
Wouldn’t want to impinge upon your masculinity.
Lock it away in a safe, perhaps
where no one but you knows the code,
or better yet make it voice-activated.
Tuck it in your pocket
but don’t forget about it,
wouldn’t want it to shrink in the wash.
Or maybe you should just destroy it,
maybe its better off destroyed,
left unsaid –
rip it in half
or burn it
or refuse to take it from my trembling lips.
It means nothing,
or does it mean everything?
You were never quite sure
and now I doubt you can even handle it,
but here it is anyways.
Foolish words for a foolish man,
unworthy and unknowing.
Keep them well.
Stargirl
Stargirl
She was – black velvet,
satin & lace,
shaggy blonde hair in her eyes.
My hands found solace in hers
and my eyes were full,
but my heart was fuller.
She was saffron & dandelions,
all Spring-Summer-Fall
leaves drifting through her eyes.
I was not worthy to touch.
The curve of her hip
could have inspired Shakespearean sonnets,
and I dropped to my knees
to caress her milk-white legs,
like gleaming ivory in the pale moonlight.
For one night she was mine,
the swell of her breast
heaving with each sharp intake of air,
the feel of her knotted scars
under my fingertips.
She whispered in my ear,
“I can hear the stars,
they’re calling me home”.
When I woke, she was gone,
the spirit drained from her eyes
and the blood from her fair cheeks,
yet her hand still clutches mine.
She was – black velvet,
satin & lace,
shaggy blonde hair in her eyes.
My hands found solace in hers
and my eyes were full,
but my heart was fuller.
She was saffron & dandelions,
all Spring-Summer-Fall
leaves drifting through her eyes.
I was not worthy to touch.
The curve of her hip
could have inspired Shakespearean sonnets,
and I dropped to my knees
to caress her milk-white legs,
like gleaming ivory in the pale moonlight.
For one night she was mine,
the swell of her breast
heaving with each sharp intake of air,
the feel of her knotted scars
under my fingertips.
She whispered in my ear,
“I can hear the stars,
they’re calling me home”.
When I woke, she was gone,
the spirit drained from her eyes
and the blood from her fair cheeks,
yet her hand still clutches mine.
Fairy Tale
Fairy Tale
He entrapped her easily,
with small promises
of romance & jewels
and happily-ever-after.
Little princess in her cold stone palace.
No white knight.
No faithful steed.
Just her eyes reflected in the cold steel,
as his knife flashed.
Sharp pain biting her,
burning her arms and legs and torso,
her heart slowing its beating.
She was so beautiful,
pale perfection
with her romance & jewels,
and her happily-ever-after.
He entrapped her easily,
with small promises
of romance & jewels
and happily-ever-after.
Little princess in her cold stone palace.
No white knight.
No faithful steed.
Just her eyes reflected in the cold steel,
as his knife flashed.
Sharp pain biting her,
burning her arms and legs and torso,
her heart slowing its beating.
She was so beautiful,
pale perfection
with her romance & jewels,
and her happily-ever-after.
Friday, June 29, 2007
Addicted (song)
Addicted
Oh no, you could never love me,
Oh no, you won’t even try.
Seven months and I’m still reeling,
your well-intentioned words still make me cry.
I know a woman should be strong,
but I’m only just learning how.
My heart is yearning to forget you,
but you’re my choice of addiction now.
I’ll never be sober,
I’ll never be right.
I know that it’s over,
I can’t help but fight.
I’m so sick of trying,
My heart’s just not tough.
I’m done with my crying,
Enough is enough.
I can’t drink you away,
(I can’t wish you away)
I can’t fly away,
I can’t fly away.
You’re not here to hold my hand,
Oh no, you never were.
You’re not near to dry my tears,
No, you’d rather be with her.
I hope she’s going to understand
when I call you late at night.
I’m still so damn addicted
but you will never be mine.
I’ll never be sober,
I’ll never be right.
I know that it’s over,
I can’t help but fight.
I’m so sick of trying,
My heart’s just not tough.
I’m done with my crying,
Enough is enough.
I can’t drink you away,
(I can’t wish you away)
I can’t fly away,
I can’t fly away.
I can’t get you out of my system,
there’s just no detox that strong.
I’m starting to realize I’ve been addicted all along,
I’ve been addicted all along.
I’ll never be sober,
I’ll never be right.
I know that it’s over,
I can’t help but fight.
I’m so sick of trying,
My heart’s just not tough.
I’m done with my crying,
Enough is enough.
I can’t drink you away,
(I can’t wish you away)
I can’t fly away,
I can’t fly away.
Oh no, you could never love me,
Oh no, you won’t even try.
Seven months and I’m still reeling,
your well-intentioned words still make me cry.
I know a woman should be strong,
but I’m only just learning how.
My heart is yearning to forget you,
but you’re my choice of addiction now.
I’ll never be sober,
I’ll never be right.
I know that it’s over,
I can’t help but fight.
I’m so sick of trying,
My heart’s just not tough.
I’m done with my crying,
Enough is enough.
I can’t drink you away,
(I can’t wish you away)
I can’t fly away,
I can’t fly away.
You’re not here to hold my hand,
Oh no, you never were.
You’re not near to dry my tears,
No, you’d rather be with her.
I hope she’s going to understand
when I call you late at night.
I’m still so damn addicted
but you will never be mine.
I’ll never be sober,
I’ll never be right.
I know that it’s over,
I can’t help but fight.
I’m so sick of trying,
My heart’s just not tough.
I’m done with my crying,
Enough is enough.
I can’t drink you away,
(I can’t wish you away)
I can’t fly away,
I can’t fly away.
I can’t get you out of my system,
there’s just no detox that strong.
I’m starting to realize I’ve been addicted all along,
I’ve been addicted all along.
I’ll never be sober,
I’ll never be right.
I know that it’s over,
I can’t help but fight.
I’m so sick of trying,
My heart’s just not tough.
I’m done with my crying,
Enough is enough.
I can’t drink you away,
(I can’t wish you away)
I can’t fly away,
I can’t fly away.
Friend
Friend
Forget the world we knew,
the one we once shared
before it all shattered apart,
when we were so close,
we seemed one soul.
Forget the words we whispered,
precious as vows in the darkness,
meaning nothing in the months to come.
Forget those moments
when the world didn’t exist,
when all that surrounded me
was your arms, your eyes, your lips,
yes, we were the only two people alive.
Remember that I loved you,
that I will until I die,
that every world I said to you was true
beyond the lies that separated us.
Remember that you loved me,
and your first true love never dies
even if we’ve both moved on,
even if we have separate lives.
Remember everything we shared,
every moment, every touch, every word.
We weren’t perfect
but who really could be?
We were something, once,
two hearts that beat at the same pace,
two souls that seemed sewn together
never to part.
So forget the fights,
the lonely nights,
but remember,
that we loved.
Forget the world we knew,
the one we once shared
before it all shattered apart,
when we were so close,
we seemed one soul.
Forget the words we whispered,
precious as vows in the darkness,
meaning nothing in the months to come.
Forget those moments
when the world didn’t exist,
when all that surrounded me
was your arms, your eyes, your lips,
yes, we were the only two people alive.
Remember that I loved you,
that I will until I die,
that every world I said to you was true
beyond the lies that separated us.
Remember that you loved me,
and your first true love never dies
even if we’ve both moved on,
even if we have separate lives.
Remember everything we shared,
every moment, every touch, every word.
We weren’t perfect
but who really could be?
We were something, once,
two hearts that beat at the same pace,
two souls that seemed sewn together
never to part.
So forget the fights,
the lonely nights,
but remember,
that we loved.
Love & Pain
Love & Pain
Pain comes hand in hand
with you,
with love.
Tears have run dry.
They will never fall.
Burnt-black eyes stare.
I am motionless,
you are gone.
Chop my heart into pieces
please feed me to your greed.
I am not broken,
you have not ripped me apart,
and I don’t need you to find me.
I was never, never,
lost.
Pain comes hand in hand
with you,
with love.
Tears have run dry.
They will never fall.
Burnt-black eyes stare.
I am motionless,
you are gone.
Chop my heart into pieces
please feed me to your greed.
I am not broken,
you have not ripped me apart,
and I don’t need you to find me.
I was never, never,
lost.
Born Under a Wandering Star
Born Under a Wandering Star
Restless.
I am never still,
my mind continues racing
even while my body is at rest.
I am constantly in motion,
running, laughing, acting, smiling.
I can’t be still,
I cannot slow down.
My passions keep me moving
constantly, constantly.
I am a butterfly
flitting from flower to flower.
How could you clip my wings?
Restless.
I am never still,
my mind continues racing
even while my body is at rest.
I am constantly in motion,
running, laughing, acting, smiling.
I can’t be still,
I cannot slow down.
My passions keep me moving
constantly, constantly.
I am a butterfly
flitting from flower to flower.
How could you clip my wings?
Monday, June 25, 2007
Love Me or Hate Me, It’s Still An Obsession
Love Me or Hate Me, It’s Still An Obsession
Look past my bitten-up fingernails,
my well-painted façade
I put on, brand-new, shiny,
each and every morning.
Can you see my soul inside?
Sometimes it’s just a glimmer,
one little shining star
in the midst of ink-black, velvety night.
So please believe me,
when I say “I live to let you shine”
quoting blasé song lyrics
because I’m afraid to tell you how I really feel.
We’re two different people now,
I fear you won’t recognize me,
my dark, angst-ridden eyes
my lips parted, ready
to tell you anything you want to hear.
No, that’s how I was.
Once.
Look past my bitten-up fingernails,
my well-painted façade
I put on, brand-new, shiny,
each and every morning.
Can you see my soul inside?
Sometimes it’s just a glimmer,
one little shining star
in the midst of ink-black, velvety night.
So please believe me,
when I say “I live to let you shine”
quoting blasé song lyrics
because I’m afraid to tell you how I really feel.
We’re two different people now,
I fear you won’t recognize me,
my dark, angst-ridden eyes
my lips parted, ready
to tell you anything you want to hear.
No, that’s how I was.
Once.
A Student in Japan
A Student in Japan
Oh, to be a student in Japan
in Spring when the cherry blossoms fall.
To skip down walkways strewn with the flowers,
hair blowing in the Jasmine-scented wind.
To twirl my parasol like the white-faced geisha,
tottering around on their training heels,
the men following them in droves.
A true geisha can stop a man with one look,
but could I, if I were a plaid-skirted student,
in Japan in the springtime?
Oh, to be a student in Japan
in Spring when the cherry blossoms fall.
To skip down walkways strewn with the flowers,
hair blowing in the Jasmine-scented wind.
To twirl my parasol like the white-faced geisha,
tottering around on their training heels,
the men following them in droves.
A true geisha can stop a man with one look,
but could I, if I were a plaid-skirted student,
in Japan in the springtime?
“And now our bodies are the guilty ones…”
“And now our bodies are the guilty ones…”
My love, our hands are sinners,
we commit lust with our guilty lips
each time we press them together.
Our touch fills the dark and silence,
our hearts too large for us to contain.
You are my sin, my condemnation,
the guilt I love so well.
My love, our hands are sinners,
we commit lust with our guilty lips
each time we press them together.
Our touch fills the dark and silence,
our hearts too large for us to contain.
You are my sin, my condemnation,
the guilt I love so well.
Butterfly Away
Butterfly Away
Oh to be a butterfly,
spread my wings and learn to soar
if only for a few minutes,
even an hour.
I’m locked up in the remainders of your love,
please, set me free.
Oh to be a butterfly,
spread my wings and learn to soar
if only for a few minutes,
even an hour.
I’m locked up in the remainders of your love,
please, set me free.
Blue Wind
Blue Wind
You’re no solitary blue wind
I swear I’m here with you,
so why are you going through withdrawal?
Your hands shake
I wrap myself in them for warmth,
your cheek against mine
will remind me I’m still alive.
Don’t you see?
It’s not too late.
You’re no solitary blue wind
I swear I’m here with you,
so why are you going through withdrawal?
Your hands shake
I wrap myself in them for warmth,
your cheek against mine
will remind me I’m still alive.
Don’t you see?
It’s not too late.
Destruct
Destruct
Your face is pale in the fluorescent light,
my words are a gun to your heart
my well-intentioned mind has pulled the trigger.
I’m so sorry your life hasn’t turned out quite right,
but you can’t just scream at the moon
it doesn’t have any answers for you.
I’m shattered, I can’t give you any advice
so why even ask?
You’re living a role, my friend,
I can’t break you out
of this prison you’ve built for yourself.
Have you sold your soul to your inner demons
or can I somehow save you?
Your face is pale in the fluorescent light,
my words are a gun to your heart
my well-intentioned mind has pulled the trigger.
I’m so sorry your life hasn’t turned out quite right,
but you can’t just scream at the moon
it doesn’t have any answers for you.
I’m shattered, I can’t give you any advice
so why even ask?
You’re living a role, my friend,
I can’t break you out
of this prison you’ve built for yourself.
Have you sold your soul to your inner demons
or can I somehow save you?
Breakdown City
Breakdown City
She’s living in a Breakdown City,
nothing but heartache
and stale lovers,
the air too fresh
like her wounds,
to combat her shaking sense
of self-worth.
Who are you and why can’t you save me?
She’s living in a Breakdown City,
nothing but heartache
and stale lovers,
the air too fresh
like her wounds,
to combat her shaking sense
of self-worth.
Who are you and why can’t you save me?
Break It Down
Break It Down
I knew you once
so intimately it seemed
you were a part of my soul,
like you were my heartbeat,
my footsteps,
and I was your breath,
slow and steady,
involuntary,
so necessary,
always the same
day in and day out.
Well, who are we now?
Two separate sets of lungs
and hands and lips,
two very different hearts
that no longer beat in sync.
I knew you once
so intimately it seemed
you were a part of my soul,
like you were my heartbeat,
my footsteps,
and I was your breath,
slow and steady,
involuntary,
so necessary,
always the same
day in and day out.
Well, who are we now?
Two separate sets of lungs
and hands and lips,
two very different hearts
that no longer beat in sync.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Don’t Break Me
Don’t Break Me
I need you like a needle needs a vein.
Can’t you hear my blood sing for you?
You’re every note and each new register
that my voice strives to reach,
every fervent waking acid-trip dream
and every single sunrise.
You’re in the sound of goodbye
and hello,
but mostly in the sounds of ‘I love you’s.
You’re my lighthouse beacon
shining in the night,
clearing away the cobwebs of self-doubt.
Can’t you hear the pain laced into my voice
when every word is screaming,
screaming, screaming for you.
My heart is solidly in your hands,
beating to the tune of your sweet nothings.
Don’t break it.
Don’t break me.
I need you like a needle needs a vein.
Can’t you hear my blood sing for you?
You’re every note and each new register
that my voice strives to reach,
every fervent waking acid-trip dream
and every single sunrise.
You’re in the sound of goodbye
and hello,
but mostly in the sounds of ‘I love you’s.
You’re my lighthouse beacon
shining in the night,
clearing away the cobwebs of self-doubt.
Can’t you hear the pain laced into my voice
when every word is screaming,
screaming, screaming for you.
My heart is solidly in your hands,
beating to the tune of your sweet nothings.
Don’t break it.
Don’t break me.
Heart & Soul
Heart & Soul
I hate being helpless,
but I love how you make me feel.
I guess I’m just full of contradictions.
And I know love is a losing game,
you’re trying your valiant best
to keep me from tripping,
slipping,
falling head over heels
in love with you
but it is all in vain.
I am already yours completely,
heart & soul.
I hate being helpless,
but I love how you make me feel.
I guess I’m just full of contradictions.
And I know love is a losing game,
you’re trying your valiant best
to keep me from tripping,
slipping,
falling head over heels
in love with you
but it is all in vain.
I am already yours completely,
heart & soul.
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
Til Death Do Us Part
Til Death Do Us Part
Your eyes are darker than the night sky,
I’m grasping for excuses not to cry
I feel my soul start slipping by
but I refuse to let myself be taken
my faith in you just can’t be shaken.
If words can fly where do they go?
In another world we’d already know.
This roundabout I’m stuck driving in
circles forever and I’m sinking in.
Don’t let me go now we’ll dive right in,
keep your fingers crossed
not all our hope is lost.
Your hands are all that keep me
from the abyss that is the sea
it’s reaching out to me
I won’t be captured by its charms
I’m only captive in your arms.
If words can fly where do they go?
In another world we’d already know.
This roundabout I’m stuck driving in
circles forever and I’m sinking in.
Don’t let me go now we’ll dive right in,
keep your fingers crossed
not all our hope is lost.
Make me believe in everything you say,
make me believe in a much brighter day.
I’m looking up at the sky
the stars make me want to cry,
because you’ll never be here by my side.
If words can fly where do they go?
And do we already know?
Are we too scared to show it?
This roundabout I’m stuck driving in
circles forever and it’s such a sin,
I can’t stop myself from sinking in,
well don’t let go we’ll dive right in.
Keep those fingers crossed,
now all our hope is lost.
Your eyes are darker than the night sky,
I’m grasping for excuses not to cry
I feel my soul start slipping by
but I refuse to let myself be taken
my faith in you just can’t be shaken.
If words can fly where do they go?
In another world we’d already know.
This roundabout I’m stuck driving in
circles forever and I’m sinking in.
Don’t let me go now we’ll dive right in,
keep your fingers crossed
not all our hope is lost.
Your hands are all that keep me
from the abyss that is the sea
it’s reaching out to me
I won’t be captured by its charms
I’m only captive in your arms.
If words can fly where do they go?
In another world we’d already know.
This roundabout I’m stuck driving in
circles forever and I’m sinking in.
Don’t let me go now we’ll dive right in,
keep your fingers crossed
not all our hope is lost.
Make me believe in everything you say,
make me believe in a much brighter day.
I’m looking up at the sky
the stars make me want to cry,
because you’ll never be here by my side.
If words can fly where do they go?
And do we already know?
Are we too scared to show it?
This roundabout I’m stuck driving in
circles forever and it’s such a sin,
I can’t stop myself from sinking in,
well don’t let go we’ll dive right in.
Keep those fingers crossed,
now all our hope is lost.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Introspective 1
1. I crave introspection, a look inside myself might reveal the spot where you cracked open my ribs and stole my heart away but it might also show my shriveled pride and dying sense of self-worth. I’m a cartoon cut-out paper doll trying to make a name for myself in this oversized 3D world. When I die I want a Death Day party, loud music and party favors. Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.
2. You threw me up against the wall. I cracked my head and slipped away into Neverland and I fear I’ll never return but I love the colors so I think I’ll be okay.
3. Moon and stars, sun, clouds, sky, water. I swim through the ocean, I feel the sand between my toes, my eyes are burning in the sunlight. You took my hand and tore my smile but you’re still the one I love deep inside.
4. It’s a beautiful day. We’ll lay outside and feel the grass on our backs and make wishes on clouds that pass us by.
5. We sit around and try to rhyme “orange”, wracking our brains but coming up with nothing. Exasperated, we give up on poetry and write love letters instead.
6. I lon to fly like the hawks that circle lazily in the sky high above my head. Alas, my rooftop is too low and my paper-mache skills too underdeveloped.
7. The sound of Heaven is not of bells chiming or a Hallelujah chorus. To me, the sound of Heaven is your voice whispering sweet nothings in my ear and never stopping. Eternity.
8. May we stay young and semi-innocent forever with our eyes on the stars and our lips spilling praise for our lovers till we can speak no more from throats torn apart with unbridled lust.
9. To me you are a child, wide-eyed and innocent, reaching for me to hold me close and steal my warmth. In your eyes I am heroin, your addiction and your lust, your downfall, but you cannot let me go and I cannot let you down.
10. I will stalk you in the night like a werewolf hunting at full moon. When you run from me, I will pursue you but I will let you run just ahead of me forever.
2. You threw me up against the wall. I cracked my head and slipped away into Neverland and I fear I’ll never return but I love the colors so I think I’ll be okay.
3. Moon and stars, sun, clouds, sky, water. I swim through the ocean, I feel the sand between my toes, my eyes are burning in the sunlight. You took my hand and tore my smile but you’re still the one I love deep inside.
4. It’s a beautiful day. We’ll lay outside and feel the grass on our backs and make wishes on clouds that pass us by.
5. We sit around and try to rhyme “orange”, wracking our brains but coming up with nothing. Exasperated, we give up on poetry and write love letters instead.
6. I lon to fly like the hawks that circle lazily in the sky high above my head. Alas, my rooftop is too low and my paper-mache skills too underdeveloped.
7. The sound of Heaven is not of bells chiming or a Hallelujah chorus. To me, the sound of Heaven is your voice whispering sweet nothings in my ear and never stopping. Eternity.
8. May we stay young and semi-innocent forever with our eyes on the stars and our lips spilling praise for our lovers till we can speak no more from throats torn apart with unbridled lust.
9. To me you are a child, wide-eyed and innocent, reaching for me to hold me close and steal my warmth. In your eyes I am heroin, your addiction and your lust, your downfall, but you cannot let me go and I cannot let you down.
10. I will stalk you in the night like a werewolf hunting at full moon. When you run from me, I will pursue you but I will let you run just ahead of me forever.
Ashes, Ashes, We All Fall Down
Ashes, Ashes, We All Fall Down
Petals unfurl into starlight
lighting worlds formed in darkness.
In the underbelly of the world
we are red-eyed demon children,
clinging to the hopes of a love reborn.
Can’t you see this world is dying?
We shatter all our bones
but keep our minds intact,
ripe for the plundering.
They rip our thoughts from our fingertips
while we stand by and watch,
our lips silent and our eyes vacant.
Will you always be silenced?
Nothing but Hell’s minions
slaves to lace trimmed lust,
we all fall down.
Petals unfurl into starlight
lighting worlds formed in darkness.
In the underbelly of the world
we are red-eyed demon children,
clinging to the hopes of a love reborn.
Can’t you see this world is dying?
We shatter all our bones
but keep our minds intact,
ripe for the plundering.
They rip our thoughts from our fingertips
while we stand by and watch,
our lips silent and our eyes vacant.
Will you always be silenced?
Nothing but Hell’s minions
slaves to lace trimmed lust,
we all fall down.
Wilting Roses
Wilting Roses
The night burns bright in your eyes, so dark,
they reflect it back like fire.
I burned all my memories
till there was nothing but ashes,
an entire funeral pyre
disintegrating in the noonday sun,
but your face remains engraved in my cerebrum.
No amount of acid could burn away
the memory of your touch, your kiss.
I am nothing but a sailboat
set adrift upon a stormy sea.
Without you here to tether me,
I am but a shadow, a glimmer of what I once was.
I am wilting roses,
petals floating on summer breezes.
Children gather flowers,
ignoring the blood that streams
as the thorns tear apart their skin,
I am gone.
The night burns bright in your eyes, so dark,
they reflect it back like fire.
I burned all my memories
till there was nothing but ashes,
an entire funeral pyre
disintegrating in the noonday sun,
but your face remains engraved in my cerebrum.
No amount of acid could burn away
the memory of your touch, your kiss.
I am nothing but a sailboat
set adrift upon a stormy sea.
Without you here to tether me,
I am but a shadow, a glimmer of what I once was.
I am wilting roses,
petals floating on summer breezes.
Children gather flowers,
ignoring the blood that streams
as the thorns tear apart their skin,
I am gone.
Magic Realism
Magic Realism
If you dream of me I will appear,
soft-edged as if a dream.
Forget to believe in me I will fade away,
shimmering and glittering as if a cloud of dust.
Even though I only die in your dreams,
my body will cease to exist,
you know I will be no more.
When I am gone,
bury me in your backyard
and plant a seed above my body.
Once it takes root I will come back to you,
growing strong, leafy, and green,
an oak tree to watch over you forever.
I am the ocean in which you swim,
my legs the sand between your toes.
I melt through your fingers
for we can never be.
I am nothing but an endless acid trip.
If you dream of me I will appear,
soft-edged as if a dream.
Forget to believe in me I will fade away,
shimmering and glittering as if a cloud of dust.
Even though I only die in your dreams,
my body will cease to exist,
you know I will be no more.
When I am gone,
bury me in your backyard
and plant a seed above my body.
Once it takes root I will come back to you,
growing strong, leafy, and green,
an oak tree to watch over you forever.
I am the ocean in which you swim,
my legs the sand between your toes.
I melt through your fingers
for we can never be.
I am nothing but an endless acid trip.
Rehab
Rehab
Her bandaged arms are thin and weak
below her rolled-up shirt-sleeves.
Her lips tremble when she speaks,
“these scars help me feel alive”.
In this cold, clinical room
where her only friends are metal folding chairs,
a beautiful young girl is reclaiming herself.
She lost it once, to a boy with soft kisses,
who held her close and whispered
“I will always love you”
but never meant it.
She lost it again, to a bottle of booze,
a handful of pills and a hospital stay,
her mother crying and her father walking away.
But it was the third time she lost it,
that landed her here,
in between the girl who never talks
and the boy who screams at night.
She took the razor to her fragile wrists,
leaving behind nothing but blood-stained bathroom tiles,
a tear-stained note crumpled in her hand.
Her father cried the entire time
as he carried her the three blocks to the hospital.
But now she is finally recapturing her hope,
with every word she chooses so carefully
“I don’t want to hurt anymore”.
She is too thin, too scared,
her hands shake but it’s just the drugs,
she’s crying.
They don’t understand, they never could,
and once they’ve all gone,
she is left dropping tears on the tiled floor.
And in the morning she’ll be gone.
Her bandaged arms are thin and weak
below her rolled-up shirt-sleeves.
Her lips tremble when she speaks,
“these scars help me feel alive”.
In this cold, clinical room
where her only friends are metal folding chairs,
a beautiful young girl is reclaiming herself.
She lost it once, to a boy with soft kisses,
who held her close and whispered
“I will always love you”
but never meant it.
She lost it again, to a bottle of booze,
a handful of pills and a hospital stay,
her mother crying and her father walking away.
But it was the third time she lost it,
that landed her here,
in between the girl who never talks
and the boy who screams at night.
She took the razor to her fragile wrists,
leaving behind nothing but blood-stained bathroom tiles,
a tear-stained note crumpled in her hand.
Her father cried the entire time
as he carried her the three blocks to the hospital.
But now she is finally recapturing her hope,
with every word she chooses so carefully
“I don’t want to hurt anymore”.
She is too thin, too scared,
her hands shake but it’s just the drugs,
she’s crying.
They don’t understand, they never could,
and once they’ve all gone,
she is left dropping tears on the tiled floor.
And in the morning she’ll be gone.
Affair with the Vampire
Affair with the Vampire
Anne Rice never dreamt of this,
you slide your fangs out as we kiss.
My pulse, it quickens, but I am still,
your lips find my neck, I know they will.
I close my eyes as I slip away,
my flowing blood keeps words at bay.
You draw my life in through your teeth,
I feel myself drift off to sleep.
You’ll be beside me when I wake,
I’ll be hungry to replace what you take.
Your veins pulse below my fingertips,
You cry out when I bite your lips.
We lose ourselves in this vampiric love of ours,
I lie back and I thank the stars.
Anne Rice never dreamt of this,
you slide your fangs out as we kiss.
My pulse, it quickens, but I am still,
your lips find my neck, I know they will.
I close my eyes as I slip away,
my flowing blood keeps words at bay.
You draw my life in through your teeth,
I feel myself drift off to sleep.
You’ll be beside me when I wake,
I’ll be hungry to replace what you take.
Your veins pulse below my fingertips,
You cry out when I bite your lips.
We lose ourselves in this vampiric love of ours,
I lie back and I thank the stars.
Moon Child
Moon Child
I shall not swear my love for you,
not by the moon,
for the moon is fickle and ever-changing.
She is never whole for long,
but my love is.
I love you complete,
every fiber of skin,
every blink of your eyelid,
each step that you take
leading you closer to me.
But, you see, I am the incomplete one,
I am the moon,
ever-changing, ever-leaving,
fickle as the silver reflection of the sun.
I shall not swear my love for you,
not by the moon,
for the moon is fickle and ever-changing.
She is never whole for long,
but my love is.
I love you complete,
every fiber of skin,
every blink of your eyelid,
each step that you take
leading you closer to me.
But, you see, I am the incomplete one,
I am the moon,
ever-changing, ever-leaving,
fickle as the silver reflection of the sun.
As You Sleep
As You Sleep
I watch you while you sleep,
eyelids fluttering softy
against your soft pale cheeks,
breath coming in small gasps.
When I’ve got your arms wrapped around me,
your face pressed gently into the curve of my neck,
I sleep sound.
I watch you while you sleep,
eyelids fluttering softy
against your soft pale cheeks,
breath coming in small gasps.
When I’ve got your arms wrapped around me,
your face pressed gently into the curve of my neck,
I sleep sound.
Eternal
Eternal
For love is as strong as death,
and just as permananet.
Your love was like a seal on my heart,
I’ve finally broken free.
Look, I have found my wings,
they were right at my fingertips every single time,
though I never realized.
Smile love, my former love,
for friendship binds me to you
and love binds me to you,
our hearts were once connected
and still, our souls are.
We are eternal, my once love,
eternal.
For love is as strong as death,
and just as permananet.
Your love was like a seal on my heart,
I’ve finally broken free.
Look, I have found my wings,
they were right at my fingertips every single time,
though I never realized.
Smile love, my former love,
for friendship binds me to you
and love binds me to you,
our hearts were once connected
and still, our souls are.
We are eternal, my once love,
eternal.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Illuminata
Illuminata
Love enduring over time,
your memories serve me well
but don’t begin to compare.
You complete my dreams
I cannot get around you,
over you.
I cannot change to fit you,
I am always changing to fit me.
You still want me
despite my imperfections,
my overreacting doesn’t throw you off,
you find my helplessness attractive.
You feed my hunger,
feed my lust.
I cannot breathe without knowing
you are breathing the same elsewhere.
I am not perfect,
I am so flawed,
but if you are looking for someone
to love you imperfectly,
I am here.
Look no further.
Love enduring over time,
your memories serve me well
but don’t begin to compare.
You complete my dreams
I cannot get around you,
over you.
I cannot change to fit you,
I am always changing to fit me.
You still want me
despite my imperfections,
my overreacting doesn’t throw you off,
you find my helplessness attractive.
You feed my hunger,
feed my lust.
I cannot breathe without knowing
you are breathing the same elsewhere.
I am not perfect,
I am so flawed,
but if you are looking for someone
to love you imperfectly,
I am here.
Look no further.
Early Morning on the Upper East Side
Early Morning on the Upper East Side
Wind kicks up
sending swirls of leaves
fluttering about the sidewalk,
like many winged butterflies
leaving the ground.
8 AM is not too early
to spill your guts across the asphalt,
rotten bloody entrails
baking in the hot morning sun.
It’s not too early
for the St John’s schoolgirls,
readjusting their skirts in dark alleyways,
sending their suitors on their ways.
It is not too late
to roll up your stockings,
tie your shoelaces,
and make it to class on time.
The girls sidestep to avoid the pile,
stinking meat decomposing in the street,
yanking on their sweatshirts
trying to salvage their reputations.
The leaves settle outside the classroom windows,
under the baleful watch of prep-school boys
longing for the busty young women
who wink coquettishly upwards,
their plaid skirts swinging in the breeze.
The boys cover their laps with textbooks,
and the teacher drones on and on.
Wind kicks up
sending swirls of leaves
fluttering about the sidewalk,
like many winged butterflies
leaving the ground.
8 AM is not too early
to spill your guts across the asphalt,
rotten bloody entrails
baking in the hot morning sun.
It’s not too early
for the St John’s schoolgirls,
readjusting their skirts in dark alleyways,
sending their suitors on their ways.
It is not too late
to roll up your stockings,
tie your shoelaces,
and make it to class on time.
The girls sidestep to avoid the pile,
stinking meat decomposing in the street,
yanking on their sweatshirts
trying to salvage their reputations.
The leaves settle outside the classroom windows,
under the baleful watch of prep-school boys
longing for the busty young women
who wink coquettishly upwards,
their plaid skirts swinging in the breeze.
The boys cover their laps with textbooks,
and the teacher drones on and on.
Torturous
Torturous
Days pass by,
an eternity,
torture,
self-doubt.
I feel you,
as if you were just behind me
your breath on my neck.
I’m drowning under this weight
of keeping everything I feel for you
locked up so tight inside.
You could be the one
and that scares me.
Days pass by,
an eternity,
torture,
self-doubt.
I feel you,
as if you were just behind me
your breath on my neck.
I’m drowning under this weight
of keeping everything I feel for you
locked up so tight inside.
You could be the one
and that scares me.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Sell Yourself
Sell Yourself
Sell yourself for newfound fame,
cheap lace and vicarious thrills.
Your body is his plaything
and you want it more than anything.
Give in, let the wave sweep you away.
This is all you’ve ever wanted, ever needed,
your naked curves on display
for all the world to see.
Sell yourself for newfound fame,
perhaps you’ll get it.
Your big break,
your 15 minutes,
all yours if you sell yourself
for the sake of your art.
Sell yourself for newfound fame,
cheap lace and vicarious thrills.
Your body is his plaything
and you want it more than anything.
Give in, let the wave sweep you away.
This is all you’ve ever wanted, ever needed,
your naked curves on display
for all the world to see.
Sell yourself for newfound fame,
perhaps you’ll get it.
Your big break,
your 15 minutes,
all yours if you sell yourself
for the sake of your art.
We Are Alive
We Are Alive
There is only now,
so scream your lungs out
because tomorrow the chance may be gone.
Give your heart out
because who needs it anyways?
Cry, laugh, live, love,
smile,
run your fingers through my hair.
All it not lost.
We are alive.
There is only now,
so scream your lungs out
because tomorrow the chance may be gone.
Give your heart out
because who needs it anyways?
Cry, laugh, live, love,
smile,
run your fingers through my hair.
All it not lost.
We are alive.
The Terrible Truth
The Terrible Truth
Your mind a labyrinth,
your eyes an ocean.
No two people are alike.
My mind’s a disaster,
my eyes – abyss.
No two snowflakes are alike.
The winter came, cold and hard,
destroying everything we felt,
turning my heart to unfeeling stone.
No two people are alike.
You pushed me away
but still I clung feverishly to hope,
my heart beating in time with yours in the darkness.
No two moments are alike.
Your lips on mine,
our hips pressed together fervently,
your hand on my leg,
your arms around me.
You held me close once.
I strain for the day you will again.
No two moments are alike.
Your mind a labyrinth,
your eyes an ocean.
No two people are alike.
My mind’s a disaster,
my eyes – abyss.
No two snowflakes are alike.
The winter came, cold and hard,
destroying everything we felt,
turning my heart to unfeeling stone.
No two people are alike.
You pushed me away
but still I clung feverishly to hope,
my heart beating in time with yours in the darkness.
No two moments are alike.
Your lips on mine,
our hips pressed together fervently,
your hand on my leg,
your arms around me.
You held me close once.
I strain for the day you will again.
No two moments are alike.
Within Your Arms
Within Your Arms
I don’t have all the answers.
The universe is still an open book to me,
though written in some language
I cant quite understand.
Your eyes contain multitudes,
entire cities trapped within
their inky depths.
I could get lost in that maze
of street signs and highways,
full of directions leading me
directly to your heart.
You read me like a map,
how did you get inside my brain?
You’re living in the spaces between,
pulling me in so easily.
I’m not so easy to capture
like some beautiful butterfly
you’d pin to your wall.
I have wings, I need to fly,
and yet you make me
want to forsake all the sky
and breathe forever
within your arms.
I don’t have all the answers.
The universe is still an open book to me,
though written in some language
I cant quite understand.
Your eyes contain multitudes,
entire cities trapped within
their inky depths.
I could get lost in that maze
of street signs and highways,
full of directions leading me
directly to your heart.
You read me like a map,
how did you get inside my brain?
You’re living in the spaces between,
pulling me in so easily.
I’m not so easy to capture
like some beautiful butterfly
you’d pin to your wall.
I have wings, I need to fly,
and yet you make me
want to forsake all the sky
and breathe forever
within your arms.
Over My Head
Over My Head
I am in over my head,
my mind is spitting out Polaroids
of everything we ever did.
I remember your hand on my hip,
your lips on my lips,
your teeth in my neck
and your tongue on my thigh.
Every word you ever spoke,
every moan from your lips
and every time you laid a hand on me,
I am transfixed.
You are always on my mind,
I’m such a nervous wreck,
and for some odd reason
I like it.
I am in over my head,
my mind is spitting out Polaroids
of everything we ever did.
I remember your hand on my hip,
your lips on my lips,
your teeth in my neck
and your tongue on my thigh.
Every word you ever spoke,
every moan from your lips
and every time you laid a hand on me,
I am transfixed.
You are always on my mind,
I’m such a nervous wreck,
and for some odd reason
I like it.
Bittersweet Revelry
Bittersweet Revelry
Sheathed in jade green silk,
her eyes aflame,
hair cascading
like soft waves on desolate beaches,
she twirls in circles
through the graying fields of midnight.
Why are the wood nymphs feasting?
Their honey-eyes are glazed,
nimble fingers wrapped
round the rough-barked trunks
of the ancient Oak trees of the meadow.
The air is resplendent with sounds of wonder,
exploding in the night sky.
She twirls in circles,
through the moonlit fields of midnight,
past the wood nymphs’ revelry.
There are tears glistening in her almond eyes
but her head is held high,
and she twirls on through the night.
Sheathed in jade green silk,
her eyes aflame,
hair cascading
like soft waves on desolate beaches,
she twirls in circles
through the graying fields of midnight.
Why are the wood nymphs feasting?
Their honey-eyes are glazed,
nimble fingers wrapped
round the rough-barked trunks
of the ancient Oak trees of the meadow.
The air is resplendent with sounds of wonder,
exploding in the night sky.
She twirls in circles,
through the moonlit fields of midnight,
past the wood nymphs’ revelry.
There are tears glistening in her almond eyes
but her head is held high,
and she twirls on through the night.
Visions & Insecurities
Visions & Insecurities
It feels like I’m wearing a disguise,
every time he looks at me with those eyes.
I’m so afraid that he isn’t real,
and even more afraid of what I feel.
Is he simply just a vision?
Could he really be flesh and blood, living?
Sometimes I think this all just can’t be.
Why would he ever choose me?
It feels like I’m wearing a disguise,
every time he looks at me with those eyes.
I’m so afraid that he isn’t real,
and even more afraid of what I feel.
Is he simply just a vision?
Could he really be flesh and blood, living?
Sometimes I think this all just can’t be.
Why would he ever choose me?
Goodbye
Goodbye
Her eyes are wide,
all-knowing and all-seeing.
He swung a rope around the moon,
she wrapped it around her wrist
to keep the light in,
even when the darkness surrounded them both.
They were content just to lie there,
to breathe in sync with shooting stars
and feel the wind upon their cheeks.
His eyes are dark and hers are bright,
he is the moon but she is the sun
burning brighter than anything else in his world,
and all he can do is reflect love back at her.
She twines her fingers with his,
tears rolling down her face
as she whispers “I love you”
one last time.
Her eyes are wide,
all-knowing and all-seeing.
He swung a rope around the moon,
she wrapped it around her wrist
to keep the light in,
even when the darkness surrounded them both.
They were content just to lie there,
to breathe in sync with shooting stars
and feel the wind upon their cheeks.
His eyes are dark and hers are bright,
he is the moon but she is the sun
burning brighter than anything else in his world,
and all he can do is reflect love back at her.
She twines her fingers with his,
tears rolling down her face
as she whispers “I love you”
one last time.
Womankind
Womankind
Don’t be fooled by what you see,
there is so much more to me.
I am not just a pretty face
please see past my looks, my race.
There is a sadness here in my eyes,
for I can hear all my sisters’ cries.
I hear them in the distant places,
wordless cries from formless faces.
I hear my sisters dying of disease,
I hear my sisters forced to their knees.
I hear you sister, as he pins you down,
I hear you sister, as you hit the ground.
I hear you sisters, from beneath your veils,
I hear you sisters, as your vision fails.
I hear my sisters crying out for change,
I hear my sisters as we are silenced again.
I hear you sisters even if no one else can.
I hear you sisters, I hear you say “I am”.
I am not your possession,
I am not your slave.
I am not your ticket to Heaven,
nor your salvation from the grave.
I am my own person,
I am not yours to play.
I will not be silenced,
yes, I am here to stay.
Don’t be fooled by what you see,
there is so much more to me.
I am not just a pretty face
please see past my looks, my race.
There is a sadness here in my eyes,
for I can hear all my sisters’ cries.
I hear them in the distant places,
wordless cries from formless faces.
I hear my sisters dying of disease,
I hear my sisters forced to their knees.
I hear you sister, as he pins you down,
I hear you sister, as you hit the ground.
I hear you sisters, from beneath your veils,
I hear you sisters, as your vision fails.
I hear my sisters crying out for change,
I hear my sisters as we are silenced again.
I hear you sisters even if no one else can.
I hear you sisters, I hear you say “I am”.
I am not your possession,
I am not your slave.
I am not your ticket to Heaven,
nor your salvation from the grave.
I am my own person,
I am not yours to play.
I will not be silenced,
yes, I am here to stay.
Broken Wings
Broken Wings
I was a mourning dove,
cooing at the moon
with my broken wings,
longing for the sky.
You were whispering lies in my ears,
“you cannot fly,
you’ll never leave the ground”.
I let your words shackle me down,
let you keep me as your plaything
in a cage made not of bars and glass,
but of my own insecurities.
You thought my wanting to leave the earth
was nothing more than a foolish dream,
but I have wings
and you cannot keep me here any longer.
Not only angels know how to fly.
I was a mourning dove,
cooing at the moon
with my broken wings,
longing for the sky.
You were whispering lies in my ears,
“you cannot fly,
you’ll never leave the ground”.
I let your words shackle me down,
let you keep me as your plaything
in a cage made not of bars and glass,
but of my own insecurities.
You thought my wanting to leave the earth
was nothing more than a foolish dream,
but I have wings
and you cannot keep me here any longer.
Not only angels know how to fly.
Stars
Stars
You keep your eyes on me,
I keep my eyes on the stars.
This is a mission
I am confident I’ll complete.
Put your hand in mine,
we’ll jump into thin air
and hope the wind will catch us.
I will never let you fall,
my arms are wide open
and my eyes are shut so tight.
We’re changing bit by bit,
so keep your eyes on me.
We’re aiming for the stars.
You keep your eyes on me,
I keep my eyes on the stars.
This is a mission
I am confident I’ll complete.
Put your hand in mine,
we’ll jump into thin air
and hope the wind will catch us.
I will never let you fall,
my arms are wide open
and my eyes are shut so tight.
We’re changing bit by bit,
so keep your eyes on me.
We’re aiming for the stars.
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Lush
Lush
she's the kind of girl
to carry condoms & a lighter,
just in case you need a smoke,
a pick me-up,
or an all-nighter.
her hair's in disarray
the cigarette smoldering between her lips,
the rips in her fishnets seem to say
"i've done all this before".
don't touch, she's the kind to scream,
the kind who breaks under your fingertips
while begging you for just a little more,
just five minutes longer.
from the tips of her stilettos
to the diamonds round her neck,
she's white trash class
can't you see it in her eyes?
don't stay.
don't let her see your weakness,
she'll pull you in
with her intoxicating smile
and her bloodshot wide-eyed stare.
she's the kind you want to show off,
content to hang off your arm
even when she knows it's finished,
pleading "it's not over, it's not over"
in your ear.
tell her it's not all in her imagination
and the nightmares will subside.
she's the kind of girl
to carry condoms & a lighter,
just in case you need a smoke,
a pick me-up,
or an all-nighter.
her hair's in disarray
the cigarette smoldering between her lips,
the rips in her fishnets seem to say
"i've done all this before".
don't touch, she's the kind to scream,
the kind who breaks under your fingertips
while begging you for just a little more,
just five minutes longer.
from the tips of her stilettos
to the diamonds round her neck,
she's white trash class
can't you see it in her eyes?
don't stay.
don't let her see your weakness,
she'll pull you in
with her intoxicating smile
and her bloodshot wide-eyed stare.
she's the kind you want to show off,
content to hang off your arm
even when she knows it's finished,
pleading "it's not over, it's not over"
in your ear.
tell her it's not all in her imagination
and the nightmares will subside.
Saturday, February 17, 2007
Memory
Memory
The memory of your touch
lingered longer on my skin
than your scent ever could.
Sometimes those memories are all I get by on,
sometimes all I can do is imagine us again
and again,
and doing more, going farther,
losing ourselves to the passion we both feel,
we both felt.
In those moments there was no right or wrong,
only two hearts beating in unison
and two pairs of hips,
two pairs of hands,
two pairs of lips,
intertwining,
pistoning,
striving to become one.
In those moments there was only me and you
and nothing else mattered,
and none of it was awkward or weird
not even my hair in your face
or your leg in the wrong place,
it was perfection,
sheer perfection,
and I’m living off those memories
until we can somehow find the time
to make more.
The memory of your touch
lingered longer on my skin
than your scent ever could.
Sometimes those memories are all I get by on,
sometimes all I can do is imagine us again
and again,
and doing more, going farther,
losing ourselves to the passion we both feel,
we both felt.
In those moments there was no right or wrong,
only two hearts beating in unison
and two pairs of hips,
two pairs of hands,
two pairs of lips,
intertwining,
pistoning,
striving to become one.
In those moments there was only me and you
and nothing else mattered,
and none of it was awkward or weird
not even my hair in your face
or your leg in the wrong place,
it was perfection,
sheer perfection,
and I’m living off those memories
until we can somehow find the time
to make more.
It All Falls Down
It All Falls Down
You build me up just to watch me tear myself down,
then stand back with a satisfactory look on your face
oh “look how pretty she is"
she’ll destroy her own mind and we’ll just take notes.
You claim no responsibility for the bullet holes
but it was you who put the gun in my hand,
you who crossed your arms and chuckled
when I gave a warning shot.
“Oh, she’s so cute. Watch her go.”
Well maybe it was cute to begin with,
when all we were was a few sweet kisses out in the stairwell,
flirty banter exchanged over the web and phone,
glances and smiles and a brief touch here and there.
Where did it go wrong?
We fit together so perfect,
clasping hands and lips together
holding each other and never wanting to let go,
I begged you “five more minutes”.
You have no time to spare for me,
there’ll be no more soft kisses
no more of your teeth sunk deep in my neck
no more of your soft exclamations in the dark.
I need to feel you under my hands, my hips,
this not seeing each other has drawn me to the dark side
and I’m wondering if you’ve found someone else.
You built me up to watch me fall,
well I’ve fallen hard for you baby,
and you haven’t been there to catch me yet.
You build me up just to watch me tear myself down,
then stand back with a satisfactory look on your face
oh “look how pretty she is"
she’ll destroy her own mind and we’ll just take notes.
You claim no responsibility for the bullet holes
but it was you who put the gun in my hand,
you who crossed your arms and chuckled
when I gave a warning shot.
“Oh, she’s so cute. Watch her go.”
Well maybe it was cute to begin with,
when all we were was a few sweet kisses out in the stairwell,
flirty banter exchanged over the web and phone,
glances and smiles and a brief touch here and there.
Where did it go wrong?
We fit together so perfect,
clasping hands and lips together
holding each other and never wanting to let go,
I begged you “five more minutes”.
You have no time to spare for me,
there’ll be no more soft kisses
no more of your teeth sunk deep in my neck
no more of your soft exclamations in the dark.
I need to feel you under my hands, my hips,
this not seeing each other has drawn me to the dark side
and I’m wondering if you’ve found someone else.
You built me up to watch me fall,
well I’ve fallen hard for you baby,
and you haven’t been there to catch me yet.
Inside Your Arms
Inside Your Arms
Okay, I’ll admit it.
You are my reason for breathing
for the time being,
you are my sanity
right now.
And though you are far beyond arms’ reach,
I am pining for you still
hoping for you still
praying for you to realize
that you can’t wait another month,
or even another day,
another hour,
that you want me
need me
have to have me
right now
right this very instant
no matter what
no matter where
no matter everything that is trying to keep us apart,
that you’ll get to me somehow
and everything will be perfect
because life is so easy
when everything you ever wanted
fits inside your arms.
Okay, I’ll admit it.
You are my reason for breathing
for the time being,
you are my sanity
right now.
And though you are far beyond arms’ reach,
I am pining for you still
hoping for you still
praying for you to realize
that you can’t wait another month,
or even another day,
another hour,
that you want me
need me
have to have me
right now
right this very instant
no matter what
no matter where
no matter everything that is trying to keep us apart,
that you’ll get to me somehow
and everything will be perfect
because life is so easy
when everything you ever wanted
fits inside your arms.
You Changed Me
You Changed Me
People ask me if I hate you
and my answer is always “no”
and it’s nights like these when I’m all alone
that I get to thinking about us and what we had,
and I come up with the why.
It’s as simple as this…
you did something to me
that I just can’t explain with words.
You took me to a new and better place,
and introduced me to myself,
you pushed your way through all the bullshit
and made me face the truth.
And for that I will always be grateful,
for that I will always have some kind of love for you,
even if I never want to see you again.
People ask me if I hate you
and my answer is always “no”
and it’s nights like these when I’m all alone
that I get to thinking about us and what we had,
and I come up with the why.
It’s as simple as this…
you did something to me
that I just can’t explain with words.
You took me to a new and better place,
and introduced me to myself,
you pushed your way through all the bullshit
and made me face the truth.
And for that I will always be grateful,
for that I will always have some kind of love for you,
even if I never want to see you again.
The Truth
The Truth
“Just admit it, you only want me when you can’t have her.”
Her words rang in his ears,
the ones she’d screamed in his direction
before she slammed the door
and walked away on everything they’d built together.
And as he lay in bed that night,
next to another,
he realized it was all a lie
and he can’t face the mirror anymore.
“Just admit it, you only want me when you can’t have her.”
Her words rang in his ears,
the ones she’d screamed in his direction
before she slammed the door
and walked away on everything they’d built together.
And as he lay in bed that night,
next to another,
he realized it was all a lie
and he can’t face the mirror anymore.
Closer
Closer
I wish I were closer to you,
then maybe my feelings could actually be justified.
Maybe then you'd be hanging on my every word
instead of never talking back,
maybe then you'd be hanging off my every curve
and no excuse could keep you away.
So why can't you find the time
to let me get to know you
in all the ways I'm begging you to?
Why can't you stay in my arms for the night
and let me hold you until daybreak?
I long to feel you,
to know you,
to be yours and only yours.
I wish i were closer to you.
I wish I were closer to you,
then maybe my feelings could actually be justified.
Maybe then you'd be hanging on my every word
instead of never talking back,
maybe then you'd be hanging off my every curve
and no excuse could keep you away.
So why can't you find the time
to let me get to know you
in all the ways I'm begging you to?
Why can't you stay in my arms for the night
and let me hold you until daybreak?
I long to feel you,
to know you,
to be yours and only yours.
I wish i were closer to you.
Monday, February 12, 2007
Scream Your Lungs Out
Scream Your Lungs Out
Sing like you’ve never sung before,
and when the morning comes
and your throat is sore,
all I want to say is I do,
I have, and I always will,
but that would never be good enough for you,
or good enough for me.
I’m taking pictures in my head
just to remember what he said
and I, I find it hard to breathe
knowing that he’s watching me,
and my eyes can’t get enough.
Why must I only look, not touch?
Don’t move, don’t move now,
don’t even let your eyes blink.
Don’t breathe, don’t breathe now,
unless we breathe in sync.
Sing like you’ve never sung before,
and when the morning comes
and your throat is sore,
all I want to say is I do,
I have, and I always will,
but that would never be good enough for you,
or good enough for me.
So what goes around comes around,
just one look and I’m on the ground.
Feels like I’m wearing a disguise,
everytime he looks at me with those eyes
he captures me like a butterfly
I’m no longer yearning for the sky.
Sing like you’ve never sung before,
and when the morning comes
and your throat is sore,
all I want to say is I do,
I have, and I always will,
but that would never be good enough for you,
or good enough for me.
Don’t move, don’t move now,
don’t breathe, don’t breathe now.
Don’t move, don’t move now,
don’t breathe, don’t breathe now.
Sing like you’ve never sung before,
and when the morning comes
and your throat is sore,
all I want to say is I do,
I have, and I always will,
but that would never be good enough for you,
or good enough for me.
Sing like you’ve never sung before,
and when the morning comes
and your throat is sore,
all I want to say is I do,
I have, and I always will,
but that would never be good enough for you,
or good enough for me.
I’m taking pictures in my head
just to remember what he said
and I, I find it hard to breathe
knowing that he’s watching me,
and my eyes can’t get enough.
Why must I only look, not touch?
Don’t move, don’t move now,
don’t even let your eyes blink.
Don’t breathe, don’t breathe now,
unless we breathe in sync.
Sing like you’ve never sung before,
and when the morning comes
and your throat is sore,
all I want to say is I do,
I have, and I always will,
but that would never be good enough for you,
or good enough for me.
So what goes around comes around,
just one look and I’m on the ground.
Feels like I’m wearing a disguise,
everytime he looks at me with those eyes
he captures me like a butterfly
I’m no longer yearning for the sky.
Sing like you’ve never sung before,
and when the morning comes
and your throat is sore,
all I want to say is I do,
I have, and I always will,
but that would never be good enough for you,
or good enough for me.
Don’t move, don’t move now,
don’t breathe, don’t breathe now.
Don’t move, don’t move now,
don’t breathe, don’t breathe now.
Sing like you’ve never sung before,
and when the morning comes
and your throat is sore,
all I want to say is I do,
I have, and I always will,
but that would never be good enough for you,
or good enough for me.
Sociology 101
Sociology 101
Look at me, society.
Am I worthwhile and desirable?
Do I fit in your social norms?
People look at me sideways
because I don’t subscribe
to no cookie cutter ways,
don’t follow the traditions,
don’t care about your rules.
I’m one walking proscriptive
with some sign slung round my neck
flashing “don’t touch” in neon pink.
There’s no exception big enough to hold me,
they expect me to obey
but I can’t follow your words.
I’m in ethical dilemmas up to my ears,
abort this, marry that,
take her off the life support –
no!
“Don’t touch”, remember?
I never signed that DNR order,
I never learned that law.
So the alcohol they pumped into my system,
it’ll mean nothing when I’m behind the wheel,
I’m just a folkway anyway,
excuse me
faux pas.
So how about it, society?
Am I worthwhile and desirable?
Do I fit in your social norms?
Look at me, society.
Am I worthwhile and desirable?
Do I fit in your social norms?
People look at me sideways
because I don’t subscribe
to no cookie cutter ways,
don’t follow the traditions,
don’t care about your rules.
I’m one walking proscriptive
with some sign slung round my neck
flashing “don’t touch” in neon pink.
There’s no exception big enough to hold me,
they expect me to obey
but I can’t follow your words.
I’m in ethical dilemmas up to my ears,
abort this, marry that,
take her off the life support –
no!
“Don’t touch”, remember?
I never signed that DNR order,
I never learned that law.
So the alcohol they pumped into my system,
it’ll mean nothing when I’m behind the wheel,
I’m just a folkway anyway,
excuse me
faux pas.
So how about it, society?
Am I worthwhile and desirable?
Do I fit in your social norms?
Thought Process
Thought Process
I lie awake and wonder
are you thinking of me too?
Is this just a joke to you?
Do I mean anything at all
or is it just foolish to fall
for you?
Your words seem clever,
yeah I read them whenever,
whenever I feel doubt
about this working out.
But I can’t seem to understand
why you just up and ran.
Yeah I know you don’t have time,
not enough to make you mine.
You’re pushing me away
I just wish you would stay
please don’t walk away.
I lie awake and wonder
are you thinking of me too?
Is this just a joke to you?
Do I mean anything at all
or is it just foolish to fall
for you?
It’s been too long and no see,
I think you’ve forgotten me.
Maybe you found someone else.
Boy, you’re messing with my health.
Leaving me alone too long
gets me thinkin’ all wrong,
things like maybe let’s “just be friends”,
things like this’ll never end.
You’re pushing me away (aren’t you?)
I just wish you would stay (won’t you?)
Please don’t walk away.
I lie awake and wonder
are you thinking of me too?
Is this just a joke to you?
Do I mean anything at all
or is it just foolish to fall
for you?
I lie awake and wonder
are you thinking of me too?
Is this just a joke to you?
Do I mean anything at all
or is it just foolish to fall
for you?
Your words seem clever,
yeah I read them whenever,
whenever I feel doubt
about this working out.
But I can’t seem to understand
why you just up and ran.
Yeah I know you don’t have time,
not enough to make you mine.
You’re pushing me away
I just wish you would stay
please don’t walk away.
I lie awake and wonder
are you thinking of me too?
Is this just a joke to you?
Do I mean anything at all
or is it just foolish to fall
for you?
It’s been too long and no see,
I think you’ve forgotten me.
Maybe you found someone else.
Boy, you’re messing with my health.
Leaving me alone too long
gets me thinkin’ all wrong,
things like maybe let’s “just be friends”,
things like this’ll never end.
You’re pushing me away (aren’t you?)
I just wish you would stay (won’t you?)
Please don’t walk away.
I lie awake and wonder
are you thinking of me too?
Is this just a joke to you?
Do I mean anything at all
or is it just foolish to fall
for you?
I Cannot Hate You
I Cannot Hate You
I cannot hate you.
We don’t work well together.
You’re a jerk,
and I’m a bitch,
and we conflict.
But I cannot hate you.
I won’t ever talk to you again,
I will never see you,
never hold your hand,
but I will never hate you.
You gave me some of the best times,
made me feel alive for once,
stole the sadness from my eyes,
forced me to tell the truth
when all I wanted to do was run and hide from you.
You made me open up,
and though I hate to admit it,
you’ve helped make me who I am today.
So I cannot hate you.
But I’ll never like you.
I cannot hate you.
We don’t work well together.
You’re a jerk,
and I’m a bitch,
and we conflict.
But I cannot hate you.
I won’t ever talk to you again,
I will never see you,
never hold your hand,
but I will never hate you.
You gave me some of the best times,
made me feel alive for once,
stole the sadness from my eyes,
forced me to tell the truth
when all I wanted to do was run and hide from you.
You made me open up,
and though I hate to admit it,
you’ve helped make me who I am today.
So I cannot hate you.
But I’ll never like you.
Onstage
Onstage
When I am onstage I am alive,
I am glamorous,
I am enviable.
The lights blind my eyes,
the stage is moving beneath my feet,
alive.
I am not me.
This is not my face,
not my words,
not my smile…
but it is my soul.
I have no time for mathematics,
or theories and names and dates.
I live for applause,
for laughter,
for passion,
for the echo of my voice against the walls of the theater,
against an audience’s ears.
I am not awkward onstage,
I am not nervous
nor scared,
not quiet.
Onstage, I am me.
You can’t touch.
You can’t judge.
You can’t insult,
or change.
But you can observe,
you can fill your eyes with me
til there is no room for anything else,
fill your ears til they burst.
And you can love me.
When I am onstage I am alive,
I am glamorous,
I am enviable.
The lights blind my eyes,
the stage is moving beneath my feet,
alive.
I am not me.
This is not my face,
not my words,
not my smile…
but it is my soul.
I have no time for mathematics,
or theories and names and dates.
I live for applause,
for laughter,
for passion,
for the echo of my voice against the walls of the theater,
against an audience’s ears.
I am not awkward onstage,
I am not nervous
nor scared,
not quiet.
Onstage, I am me.
You can’t touch.
You can’t judge.
You can’t insult,
or change.
But you can observe,
you can fill your eyes with me
til there is no room for anything else,
fill your ears til they burst.
And you can love me.
You Comfort Me
You Comfort Me
Like emeralds, like heaven’s light,
like stars in the night.
Like sunshine, like rain,
like an easy relief for the pain.
Like a favorite pair of worn-in jeans,
you comfort me.
Like emeralds, like heaven’s light,
like stars in the night.
Like sunshine, like rain,
like an easy relief for the pain.
Like a favorite pair of worn-in jeans,
you comfort me.
Kites With No Strings
Kites With No Strings
I wish…I wish a lot of things.
My wishes are kites with no strings.
They float on the breeze
leaving my outstretched fingers,
never to return.
Your words are a knife in my back,
left there to rust
like some evil broken wing,
making me unable to fly.
I can’t make my wishes come true.
I can’t even reach them anymore.
And I’ll certainly never have you.
I wish…I wish a lot of things.
My wishes are kites with no strings.
They float on the breeze
leaving my outstretched fingers,
never to return.
Your words are a knife in my back,
left there to rust
like some evil broken wing,
making me unable to fly.
I can’t make my wishes come true.
I can’t even reach them anymore.
And I’ll certainly never have you.
I Wish I Never Knew
I Wish I Never Knew
Mark me down as happy,
mark me down as upset.
If there’s a happy ending to this story,
well I guess I haven’t found it yet.
I don’t understand why two people
want to be together but end up alone.
Forgive me for saying,
but I wish I never had known.
I wish I never knew
how you felt about me.
I wish you’d never said
what I’d been dreaming all along,
call me wrong
but I can’t seem to understand.
I should be happy
but this didn’t work out like I planned.
I feel your heart beat,
even though you’re far away.
I am just around the corner,
how I wish that you could stay.
I cannot comprehend
why I can’t have you for my own.
Forgive me for saying,
but I wish I never had known.
I wish I never knew
how you felt about me.
I wish you’d never said
what I’d been dreaming all along,
call me wrong
but I can’t seem to understand.
I should be happy
but this didn’t work out like I planned.
If I had it my way
you’d be in my arms tonight.
If I had it my way
I would hold you til the morning light.
If I had it my way
I wouldn’t waste a single day,
I’d tell you how I feel inside
there’d be no more need to hide.
But I can’t hold you now
and I can’t hold you then.
If I can, then how?
If I can, then when?
I wish I never knew
how you felt about me.
I wish you’d never said
what I’d been dreaming all along,
call me wrong
but I can’t seem to understand.
I should be happy,
I should be happy,
but this didn’t work out like I planned.
Mark me down as happy,
mark me down as upset.
If there’s a happy ending to this story,
well I guess I haven’t found it yet.
I don’t understand why two people
want to be together but end up alone.
Forgive me for saying,
but I wish I never had known.
I wish I never knew
how you felt about me.
I wish you’d never said
what I’d been dreaming all along,
call me wrong
but I can’t seem to understand.
I should be happy
but this didn’t work out like I planned.
I feel your heart beat,
even though you’re far away.
I am just around the corner,
how I wish that you could stay.
I cannot comprehend
why I can’t have you for my own.
Forgive me for saying,
but I wish I never had known.
I wish I never knew
how you felt about me.
I wish you’d never said
what I’d been dreaming all along,
call me wrong
but I can’t seem to understand.
I should be happy
but this didn’t work out like I planned.
If I had it my way
you’d be in my arms tonight.
If I had it my way
I would hold you til the morning light.
If I had it my way
I wouldn’t waste a single day,
I’d tell you how I feel inside
there’d be no more need to hide.
But I can’t hold you now
and I can’t hold you then.
If I can, then how?
If I can, then when?
I wish I never knew
how you felt about me.
I wish you’d never said
what I’d been dreaming all along,
call me wrong
but I can’t seem to understand.
I should be happy,
I should be happy,
but this didn’t work out like I planned.
Happy
Happy
I want so much to be happy,
happy for you
happy for me
happy for everything I know now.
But I know now.
Happy would be
you and me
together
I’m not saying
it’s gotta be
something like forever.
I’m talking about
being happy right now.
I could be happy
being with you
three months from now.
Who am I kidding
I’d go on living
but it’d drive me insane somehow.
I can’t stand the wait,
I can’t stand the time.
I want so much to be happy,
But you’re still not mine.
I want so much to be happy,
happy for you
happy for me
happy for everything I know now.
But I know now.
Happy would be
you and me
together
I’m not saying
it’s gotta be
something like forever.
I’m talking about
being happy right now.
I could be happy
being with you
three months from now.
Who am I kidding
I’d go on living
but it’d drive me insane somehow.
I can’t stand the wait,
I can’t stand the time.
I want so much to be happy,
But you’re still not mine.
I Wanna Get To Know You
I Wanna Get To Know You
(And I don’t just mean intimately)
There’s just something about you.
There’s a certain “je ne c’est quoi”.
There’s something in your eyes
taking me by surprise.
And ooh when I realize, I…
I wanna get to know you
(and I don’t just mean intimately)
cuz I got some things to show you
(and I don’t just mean all of me)
I got this feeling,
oh it’s setting me reeling
but oh, oh my
you could be the guy to…
let me get to know you
(and I don’t just mean biblically)
I’ll find a way to show you
how much you mean to me.
Then somewhere down the line
we could be floating on cloud nine.
And ooh oh my –
I wanna get to know you
(and I just don’t mean intimately)
cuz I got some things to show you
(and I don’t just mean all of me)
I got this feeling,
oh it’s setting me reeling
but oh, oh my
you could be the guy to…
let me get to know you
(and I don’t just mean biblically)
You see?
You and me?
This could be…
Perfectly.
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
Footsteps
I'm tracing my footsteps
back to who I once was,
back to when I was innocent
and the worst hurts were skinned knees,
bruised shins,
or bumped heads.
I want to be that little girl on the swing again,
whose feet never quite touched the ground
if she just pushed hard enough,
who thought she could fly
and nothing on earth could hold her down.
I wish I could go back to that time,
when happiness was a drippy popsicle,
or scented crayons,
or dancing with your best friend to country songs
outside on the front steps.
When rainy days were best for staying out in,
when we could play football in the street,
when we fished in our back yard
even if we never caught anything.
I want to be that little girl who thought she could do no wrong.
The girl who was excited about her schoolwork,
who answered the door in nothing but a nightshirt,
who spent all Valentine's Day at the carnival
and never cared that she never had a valentine at all.
Things were so much easier when the worst part of your day
was a thunderstorm you were scared of,
and even then it was an easy solution
we locked ourselves in the bathroom with a bunch of pillows and my dog,
and everything was suddenly okay.
I'm tracing my footsteps
back to who I once was,
but I can't find them anymore
and I think I'm losing her
for good.
back to who I once was,
back to when I was innocent
and the worst hurts were skinned knees,
bruised shins,
or bumped heads.
I want to be that little girl on the swing again,
whose feet never quite touched the ground
if she just pushed hard enough,
who thought she could fly
and nothing on earth could hold her down.
I wish I could go back to that time,
when happiness was a drippy popsicle,
or scented crayons,
or dancing with your best friend to country songs
outside on the front steps.
When rainy days were best for staying out in,
when we could play football in the street,
when we fished in our back yard
even if we never caught anything.
I want to be that little girl who thought she could do no wrong.
The girl who was excited about her schoolwork,
who answered the door in nothing but a nightshirt,
who spent all Valentine's Day at the carnival
and never cared that she never had a valentine at all.
Things were so much easier when the worst part of your day
was a thunderstorm you were scared of,
and even then it was an easy solution
we locked ourselves in the bathroom with a bunch of pillows and my dog,
and everything was suddenly okay.
I'm tracing my footsteps
back to who I once was,
but I can't find them anymore
and I think I'm losing her
for good.
This Can’t Be Right
This Can’t Be Right
There'll be no teardrops tonight on my pillow,
there's only the scent of regret in the air.
Here in my heart the fire's still burning,
you couldn't have meant it when you said
"I don't care".
Don’t you understand my heart used to beat just for you?
This isn’t how it was supposed to be,
I shouldn’t have ended up all alone
There'll be no teardrops tonight on my pillow,
there's only the scent of regret in the air.
Here in my heart the fire's still burning,
you couldn't have meant it when you said
"I don't care".
Don’t you understand my heart used to beat just for you?
This isn’t how it was supposed to be,
I shouldn’t have ended up all alone
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