thank you for this. great write.

so very true.

great write, like always.

"Chances are he’ll get some more, and there will be another damsel in distress
But maybe when he does she’ll be smarter than the rest of us
Wipe the pixie dust away
Discover a horrible phobia of toads she never knew she had
And kick him to the curb before he has a chance to croak "

beautiful. keep it up.

wow, very nice :D

yay.

if you want the original formatting(which i cant post here), send me a message and ill get you hooked up.

~~~

this.

this is not for you.

or you.

or.
you.

this is for me.

this is for me.

i
dont even think that

understand
mis-
must
understand!

standing livid and little

sanded sarcasm
strut meaning away
day by day

and what it is yet that
i dont understand
still plagues my lips
and my brain
and my brains lips (shivershiver; oh, its notsocold notany
more) is that i still

still OH SO HATE
the conventional.

you, well,
you cant hide.

i can see it.
i WILL see it. i cant hide what
you hide anymore


you arent the convention.


youve got something that even you dont see(nono notyet) something that
i want to be mine-

no,
nono-
ours.

sometimes

i dont want to be what i am
sometimes i want to be more and
those times are when i feel sunskin
in the cold
feel smiles on my back
lighter in my strut
sighs that arent heavy

sometimes i

feel like tomorrow might not be worse
when i know it will be(after all, the drive home just makes me look forward to
the feeling i got and will get
on the passage there
to you)

i tell souls not to worry
soulsfull
of dread, of the streetlight simplicity
of nine to five.

so. no.

enough of this soulfuldread
morethanme
sandy shine
sampsonite shut
story-

im sick of the ending i know will come that never does.

i dont do this for you.
i
dont
do this for you.

i do this for ME.

if you met me
two years ago
you wouldnt know me, cause,
well,
i didnt.


you...
you, ugh.

okay.

i know nothing of horizons or
new beginnings, the times that ive
seen them have been misunderstood until
it is too muchtoolate

and, yet, i remember this one-

i was nervous. you probably couldnt tell, but it was there.

i was nervous since we first talked.

why? because i was ****ING TERRIFIED.

i AM ****ing terrified.

i dont like hope. i dont like thinking that
there actually is someone out there understanding of me in that silent way.
something in someone that can feel me
comeandgo
feel my climaxes and syncopations

step beat to beat
subverting every attempt i take
to keep things the same

heh, and the best part?

i...well,
i could feel myself getting used to this.

so please,
when the road lengthens
when its straight and wide
twists and cul-de-sacs
come, when
it drops suddenly
sullenly sanguine

just remember.

this- all of this-

it is all for you.

thanks.

ah, but who decides what is worthy and what is a distraction?

thankee

i agree. be very careful.

i could do it if you like, though.

thanks. :D

sort of a weird one i guess.

how do you stand
in such
subject abject
horror-
predicates cannot
undefine
your posture

you stand statued
vile and still

smilehere
smile
there
smileth
ere

indolence
indifference
waiting for a
savior that
never comes
came and went
bicycles buck
bosoms bend

subjects
without predicates

oh god.

god, no end.

bah!

what a great feeling.

thanks. :D

or better yet,
a whole new tree.

and this is difficult for me to write because
i never have.

the distinction between new and that signpost
is quite possibly trite.

it is understanding that coffee
doesnt bring change.

distraction; that is what i seek.

not the meaning and intent
of that soul-slaughtering sylabacus

but the word itself.

we all do it.
some use drugs.
some use alcohol.
some use sex.
some use friends and fun.
some use, heh,
poetry.

it is the antonym of enlightenment
the cross of a century's crucifixion
its a paralytic poison that
shuts us off(clickclick turntheswitch)
fancies filling finances to the brim
so we can die in it.

heh,
it has gotten to the point that
even i, who
is admittedly obsessed and possessed
with this little intangibility,
cant really see an alternative.

distraction

dis: mal. bad. off. wrong.

tract: digestive? ie: track, path? road?

so, where is it
that i find traction?
my shoes lack it.
my mind does too.

if i focus on a distraction
am i on track?

thanks guys and gals.

thank you very much. :D

sorry for my lack of posts. been ridiculously busy.

---

billed in advance
stacks and stacks
strange smiles and masks of ignorance
the subtle pervasiveness
of a tight bass line
lights on 10th, red and white
concurrent currents of motorist zombies
the moment before the exhale
of a good friend, my full cancerlungs
begging me to be smarter-

to plan.

moments of bitter chill
that make your eyes squint
and your skin aflame

a girl

in style, jeans, a tight sweater
a flamboyant scarf
and not a hint of insight

im fine being alone
those that do know me
indulge in the secret
they dont think to spread it
and, for that, i smile.

thanks.

i guess if this is anything, its authentic. though far from one of my favorites.

XVI

I pace madly across my bedroom carpet
Trying to figure out how she is so amazing.

We held hands today.
It was the most absolutely complete,
Incredibly intimate, extraordinary embrace
My blistered fingers have ever experienced,
I could feel her.
I could tell she could feel it.
And I stammer, and I stutter,
Wondering how to find the words.



XVII

And so comes a wanted ending
And the prospect of a new beginning.

Now I can say what it is like to be happy.
Now I know what everyone else is missing—
Now I know what everyone else cant see.
She has cut the chains holding her
And has chosen to find me.
My lips are dry, my heart racing still…
My soul aches to show her
Something bigger than both of us.

XVIII
(Written April 2006)

You threw me away.
You threw it all away.

And I bet you expect me to just wonder
And wait, feeling some sort of
Silent reverence. But you know me.
Or knew me. You don’t know anything now.
I don’t give in. not like you.
Not ever. And I loved you,
Even after I shouldn’t, even when
Hope was gone.
I loved you.
And now you are gone.

X

I woke up this morning to find
The world isn’t as I left it.

Is it so bad to think that the most
Wonderful thing you have is something you don’t?
I feel her gaze, and return it bravely
Secretly knowing what she is
Someday can never seem soon enough
But I simply cannot give up.
She can never come close enough
But I will not give up.

XI

Fiery thoughts led to fiery words
And we come to a crossroads with no turning back.

I angered the gods today.
I defied the way that everyone
Said was my only choice.
And it felt good.
I watched cities burn
And the standards of empires fall
As I poured my soul into a love
I did not know at all.

XII

Apprehension is thrown out the door
And something beautiful is born.

I wait for hours on her doorstep
For her to let me in and be free
Of the looming, cloud-blotched night—
The biting, chilling wind…
Thoughts of her keep me warm
And crazy storybook dreams
All I want is to keep her from harm.
All I want is to be what she needs.

XIII
Just another listless midnight confession
Rings from my heart to her ears.

Does she even comprehend what I have to offer?
This cant be just another fling.
This, as far as I am concerned, is everything.
Give me a reason, a choice, a will!
Ive nothing left to do without you
How can I just stand by
And see you so incomplete?

XIV

The melody of what she fails to say
Breathes soft comfort into my lungs.

I have been robbed of contentment.
I have been raped of decency.
I have been left, bruised and broken,
Staining the sidewalk with what I once hid.
She ripped me to pieces
To give me a new soul;
She took away everything
To give me so much more.

XV

…and still I feel this love growing
stronger; stronger every day.

How much longer will she say
She has no idea what she wants?
I cant ever hope to admit to her
How her gentle features melt my pride;
How her radiant words save me;
How her thoughtless gazes embrace me…
A love not lived is a life ever lost—
A life ever lost is a price I cannot pay.