April 2012
18 posts
on the tired sounds of stars and how tired all the people are. some nights our dark box feels like a pond of cement. i hope these nights aren’t like those nights for a while. i miss water under the tired sounds of stars. i don’t know if there are still nights left. on the tired sounds of beer bottles and stars. they shimmer in the dark box saying something my dad used to say.
8 tags
where to go from here
her eyes widened into gunshots behind her stars hung around far away from each other. those pits were empty as craters buried in the moon in her mouth where words once were was a slippery cliff into a cliff.
when you’re emotionally unstable and alone, there is no greater antagonist than a dulled edge.
2 tags
a love poem.
i’ll love you forever
“and ever”.
a hand falls from somewhere
on the bed like
a hand against the window
stealing the gold from
the street light shine
against the drapes
i’m
never here. we tumble downwards
and kiss like two strangers
discovering strangers
i see stars in the sky
you feel inside my pockets
they’re filled with meteors
as i fall
the...
2 tags
i will not put chemicals into my brain hoping to find some shortcircuit to the soul. the soul like every word pounds in a fist upon our hearts, then opens into broken knuckles, into a basin hoping first only to be filled.
i will not write any great poetry on 2ce tonight. But i will start writing poetry. Again. If You’re still tuned in (i mean apart from those of You who are fucking me)...
:c
high out of my mind, trying to write something, because someone asked me to. It’s not working yet. i’d ask for something, but i haven’t a clue what i want.
fucked up
your heart in your hands or so that something seemed to be not anything else but your soul, open as a doorway in Summer heat i would come in with the mosquitoes, keep calling me in keep calling me, you goddess, your heart in your hands or so that something seemed to be what were you really holding? The sun was shooting its pistols behind You its scrambling buckshot on my eyes i couldn’t see...
1 tag
that dance
if seen for the last time seemed like a lilac wilting over a distance, pale and angled by soft bones if seen for the first time it was like seeing someone assemble an atom bomb movements so precise and long, such smallness heavier and more ominous than all heavenly fury towards sodomy. seen part way towards the beginning her morphing body seemed to swing like a silver pocketwatch , hypnotic,...
1 tag
her eyes and my legs
opened. wind pulled
the drapes from their embrace,
scattered shopping bags around our
filthy lives. her lips
unsealed, my lips
unraveled. dog pushed the door
ajar, uncorking that
whole environment. she blew
open my eyes, our bodies
spread into vast sheets.
our hearts held on
locked tightly.
5 tags
a blowjob in a dark place
His eyes are falling bombs, green and black like leaves and anvils; emeralds and drops of water in the dark, they run my cheeks over in unseen rivers, melting as my legs are melting, white and hot like lit bulbs, my mouth is a furnace thrown into an ocean warm and wet i want to feel anything else inside of me as he twitches i twitch, soul/s trembling, the fan spins off-center, the weeds shiver, He...
2 tags
morning
everything starts getting up,
oxygen mixes somewhere
into the thirsty blood the sky floats on
redder and brighter
and brighter yet
until it’s almost like fire
from far away. penis spills over,
that drawbridge, a daily offering to my wife
of a way into my emotions
past that moat of
stuck-in arrows of the past,
the archers waiting for the future
to fall into forests,
to tangle....
2 tags
the hours split open, bodies unraveling screaming soft and steady as turning blades in a fan, the monk-song of the refrigerator, it’s cold alps churning the beer and delicious apples, keening slowly so we would hear what we were doing there alone. we
let the hours fall dead at our feet like a fruit tree dying in Autumn. we were looking down and stopped every now and again just to pick up an...
2 tags
i need a good tasing.
i tried to remember the seconds while the night was palming the surface of the earth with darkness and tiny bits of bright lights how heavy my hands felt with all the emptiness you left them where the rest of your body should have been
i kept a list of the parts missing between us. As we tried to roll along the country like a dying car does sometimes. i hope the starlight doesn’t burn out...
March 2012
50 posts
2 tags
time
the bed of your open eyes (blue and black, oceans with pits in their hearts) held seconds in them
my falling body/corpse/vessel came to You. vicodin was still my favorite serpent. The stopped wristwatch that came out of Vietnam was in my pocket. you looked at me. it started again for a few seconds turning on, and turning off.
fine then, we’ll just stay miserable
6 tags
exhausted
as her breath fell in invisible feathers , warm and wet from the sun still blowing up her heart, atop my neck and the wild grasses grasping ineffectually strangling, i took some also between my lips broken and red, -hot from the sun that had melted both of my kidneys away i saw her beach-water blue eyes and felt in her wordless open mouth many verbs yet unspoken. the sun started spilling out of...
2 tags
spellcheck optional
someone can save you
he said those words as flat
and white-soft hollow as
the back of a billboard. i started
to think of jesus and
Target, and wanted
more psychedelics
and he sort of turned my direction
indiscriminently, towards my eyes
and the buildings behind me
all the trees with their green fingers unfolded
upturned in empty basins
i saw his lip still cut
where i had pushed him...
1 tag
beer(,)
(and the knives)
glimmer in the kitchen
pedestaled by tooth-white countertop
viewed from low
down on the carpet
that crawls also through the apartment
the objects shine
like eyes lit with knowledge of
untold shame. winking in
the passing carlight
my beer and
my favorite knives
both want. in. something
at least
keeps coming down my throat
keeps prying at my skin
for some...
when you moved across the desert in Arizona to see me i felt your words arrive before you retching in Summer winds You said something about not always following me like this.
5 tags
poem is a dirty word
there were pebbles down in her throat her words pounding upwards like dust bouncing out of a collapsing canyon — chest shivering and falling trembling as she blew her cool air upwards some unseen blade spinning inside of her. “i don’t want to live anymore like this.” she had said again after that night. the pond, lily-ed by reflected starlight that seemed to blossom down...
pills
pills pills pills
tucked inside the cabinet like
glimmering knives beneath a trenchcoat
under the bed
discarded, but unforgotten
in my car they
come with me to the howling
hissing of the radio as it sings
and talks about distant armies
they cross state lines
they peel me from the earth
like skin from a fruit, an apple
eaten, the seeds all
planted badly.
left alone
somedays i know the pills punched a whole in my heart.
the days pass like blood through the body, between brain and (cock) becoming light and dark all in a circuit. - sometimes i let a little the days out a little bit at a time. This is my rain dance.
we just kept crashing into one another throwing our ribs against the floor like rollcages our lives can’t turn at all anymore on such flat...
from the bedroom where the clouds and sun were sieving through the shut blinds into strings ending and beginning on O/our bodies in the bed i stared at that hole in the drywall wondering
if you really knew me enough to love me. none of this adds up. i brought your sleeping form closer to me into the cut pieces of filtered dawn hoping someone would notice us and see if we belonged.
1 tag
let’s lay out like guinea pigs i wonder as night turns its heavy body above our faces what love is going to do to us? the fan blades spin between order and distance never tumbling over one another can they won’t last forever that way alone? red ink runs across your cheeks partially parted lips i thought maybe we were going to melt together but it was just another sunrise.
1 tag
as night dropped
it’s dark body
over our heads
the headlights circled around
like shine off fan blades spinning
from the ceiling of the room
we buried ourselves in
and started eating each other.
2 tags
journal poem
a visitor i don’t know how to tell anyone i am leaving.
i feel like that thing on my kidney is another fallen piece of my beating breast’s insides. amplified our argument falls out the windows parts of it fly away parts of it puddle in the dirt quagmire-d. a bomb for us to stumble on later. our fingers interlocked like clumps of barbed wire stick up like sacrificial spikes pyres...
3 tags
apathy
two words took a shovel to my soul scraped me like a human-size avocado —
all clean and feeling rather air-headed, lacking, perhaps a brain at all empty she
ate her fruit frowning, having fallen so far to see me she told me to love something and i saw in her face that she would be whatever i wanted if i started wanting.
3 tags
i never know the truth about anything, anymore.
i wonder if she sees her feet moving bare across the carpet beige like a dried ocean bed buried in patches by strange seaweeds of unopened letters from other places her discarded drawings and other meaningless things, if she sees the bending of her arms between each doorway and each pouring of the many glasses the angles between her parts opening and closing throats whispering (gently, in a...
i’m bored, Tumblr.
Questions? i’m stuck at a mostly desk position at the moment and my queue is full.
3 tags
what title
zombie drops its eyes up down on the moon’s surface from below sees it hanging its skin all distant bone wonders if there were ever oceans holds its hand up and wraps a bony fist around it doesn’t like eating, anymore. doesn’t like fucking. likes the moon. wonders girl stays in the bedroom sleeping silent as a secret vowel a word given just for him to say but she doesn’t...
all who love words are whores. Some words just sound better while you’re on your back.
3 tags
loss
before the bar had dried from her lips before our hands had parted from one another to explore the darknesses we offered so easily, before we hit the streets. before the starlight from the gutters had been traded for more streetlights before i stopped and pretended to be caught in a searchlight that made her laugh lips still moist and intoxicating, before they stopped selling us what we really...
bright lights, loud noises: whatever horses do at... →
brightlightsloudnoises:
for your birthday it was bombay in the blue bottle and for mine it was a bottle of jim beam but we did it on other days too, most days
i used to mark the bottle when i started feeling good that way i’d know the right amount to drink before things started getting bad you showed me a movie where
3 tags
desire
there was light running from the bathroom doorway through empty bottles that held the floor down these days in one place, for me at least —
passing above and across my worn jackets curled into sleeping balls, your underwear a disorganized spill of yellow, white, red
highlighting unused cigarettes sacrificial goats for the ceremony we were trying to figure out with our lives still at this...
3 tags
hours
the hours streak into long, thin lines like sky-written letters to someone. anyone, they fall
so slowly as if into an unfillable monster aren’t we enough? as we are now i mean, pale pink fires burning inside of caves, swallowing and reading words. the words that stretch like the hours do of f t he li ps of pr ett y w omen dooooown from inside of beeeer boooottles are swatted off of your...
the difference between change and progress keeps picking up and moving.
4 tags
how i feel
with fire between my legs once
i put my back against the grass and waited to scorch some loving thing into the earth
the way a promise puts a hole inside O/our hearts where the truth would beat and howl undignified
and when my skeleton began to show beneath my skin i understood
that the truth was working on me like a shotgun carving circles into a bird’s wings opening them up.
i don’t want to go home.
3 tags
sandy shores
her eyes were on the beach
we never figured out how to wrap skin around a soul elegantly. tried many preserving agents.
she asked me why the waters always seemed to know where they were going. the “planet is always changing,” she told me, as if one day she might wake up and find the beach lying in my space beside her or see it stumbling down below the window we could not afford...
3 tags
nihilism
she kept pulling i lay on her like a child on an unexploded landmine and all night we shot gunpowder up our noses or something at least wanting to scare the clouds down from the sky as i pushed my modest “manhood” into her plugging the pinhole of “our grenade” i missed so fondly trying to see the constellations in the sky the two dippers pouring rain and comets down the...
3 tags
i swear it starts out emo on purpose
there was a void down where i had read the heart should be, some presumably black darkness as all darknesses are black all voids darknesses all of it. i began to long to weep once more, filled my body with vodka which glimmered in my eyes like two diamonds in two cases after a long unglimmering i knew that if i left the faucet on i eventually would drown down somewhere inside of it, but as the...
1 tag
night fell like a shot blackbird
on our apartment in the desert
stars all still-burning buckshot
in the sky. i need
some tranquilizers”
. from the bed i’ve begun
to crawl my life through end to
end. the music in our eyes now nothing
but polished empty brass
windless we partner up
cawwing at the walls.
tired of people, and of being alone.
1 tag
words
you always say always i’m one of those unhappy souls that wander through your life like bent pages you keep turning to at night when both our souls are gone and we really are, as always, all alone your breath expands beneath the sheets fills up around my sliced figure like i’m some sort of whole for you to plummet through.