it took me three long hot summers
to finally look her in the
temple and whisper the melodies
of a love yet lost tenderly
against her earlobes;
to speak
accented baritone memories
into her throat;
to fill her chest with
the breath of longing, wanton
lyrical odes to the life we were destined
to lead;
my magnum opus.
my modus operandi: to become the
opposite of her father;
the least i could do,
every time she would arch her back
in response to my ego teasing
her sanctum,
was to draw for her an alternate
reality -
each stroke changing history.
it was her choice
to call me daddy.
her kisses tell me the secrets
her eyes conceal.
i wish i could slay the ghosts
that haunt her dreams,
that cause her dead stares, her
silent cries.
[i wish i wasn't one.]
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Simple Things ...
"Thank u for being my live, always open journal."
you're welcome. :*
too excited to sleep? thursday marks my last day of school. period. after 20 years...this is it. 3 years of law school coming unceremoniously to an end at 3:20pm. sure, still have 2 exams and 2 papers to complete but...damn.
"tomorrow" sure got here quick.
you're welcome. :*
too excited to sleep? thursday marks my last day of school. period. after 20 years...this is it. 3 years of law school coming unceremoniously to an end at 3:20pm. sure, still have 2 exams and 2 papers to complete but...damn.
"tomorrow" sure got here quick.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Falling From The Sky ...
i forgot what it felt like
for you to whisper stirred
echoes onto my eardrums:
a mix of every language
live and dead,
pulling into focus
the story of your coming birth
that baba told to the Trenchtown winds
one burning summer
until the rains came.
[i wonder if you can hear me, too.]
for you to whisper stirred
echoes onto my eardrums:
a mix of every language
live and dead,
pulling into focus
the story of your coming birth
that baba told to the Trenchtown winds
one burning summer
until the rains came.
[i wonder if you can hear me, too.]
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Floating Soul (Peace) ...
she puts me in
another world.
melodic tempo, mixed rhythm...
psychadelia.
off-beat like the flower in her hair,
or the tattoo on her hip.
outer space serenity molded against
pounding drums and
indecipherable screams.
the quiet of her dreams
shattered by the thud of
double bass -
a compliment to her heartbeat.
she cries in me a sea of
rainbowed tears, each kissed with the
rays of Jupiter and alive
with the fire of a thousand falling stars.
behind her eyes rest
a thousand more;
she exhales their stories,
transcribed in songs written
in the blood of martyrs on the
shoulders of giants.
and i listen.
the offspring of gypsies
and willow dust,
a reminder of how things used to be.
she found herself in the
veins of the aqueducts, in the
tremors of the third world and the
rhythm of the transatlantic breeze.
memory's familiar:
now the dam only breaks
when she wants.
i envy her translucence,
her heavy.
her heaven.
another world.
melodic tempo, mixed rhythm...
psychadelia.
off-beat like the flower in her hair,
or the tattoo on her hip.
outer space serenity molded against
pounding drums and
indecipherable screams.
the quiet of her dreams
shattered by the thud of
double bass -
a compliment to her heartbeat.
she cries in me a sea of
rainbowed tears, each kissed with the
rays of Jupiter and alive
with the fire of a thousand falling stars.
behind her eyes rest
a thousand more;
she exhales their stories,
transcribed in songs written
in the blood of martyrs on the
shoulders of giants.
and i listen.
the offspring of gypsies
and willow dust,
a reminder of how things used to be.
she found herself in the
veins of the aqueducts, in the
tremors of the third world and the
rhythm of the transatlantic breeze.
memory's familiar:
now the dam only breaks
when she wants.
i envy her translucence,
her heavy.
her heaven.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Wrong Way ...
i'm beginning to feel like i've been putting the faith that things will get better into the wrong places. maybe placing the weight of change on the wrong shoulders. maybe this should be the new mantra:
First Day of Nowhere ...
"...all along you thought you were alive."
i don't like it when i don't like the direction things are headed. and right now, i'm not feeling where i'm going. it's not even so much where i'm going - because, in theory, that's actually pretty awesome & exciting. it's more like the "where i am right now" part that's eating me up inside. i'm uncomfortable in my own skin, unhappy with my path & direction. it's kind of killing me softly in a way.
i'm not used to seeing me self-destruct.
what i thought was a general problem of motivation and will just seems more and more like a deep rut. and in that sense, i feel trapped...the complete opposite of the feeling of freedom and flight that i should be enjoying at this stage of my career. it's just dragging me further and further down. when your response to questions about things that should be important to you is "i don't care," something isn't right.
so i find myeslf simultaneously retreating and beating myself up. increasingly frustrated, outright irate at my inability to climb out of this hole ... or, more accurately, my utter lack of desperation to pull myself out.
ever watch a man who wants to drown?
i like to like being me. scratching and clawing to get this skin off of me isn't helping that cause at all. in fact, i don't know what will. i don't know who i need to talk to, who i need to spend time with, what questiosn need to be asked of me, what answers i need to give, or what i just need to get off of my chest to make me feel more like ... like i fit in this crazy, twisted, somewhat mangled but nonetheless readable and enticing picture of a future that i've painted for myself. it's like instead of waiting for the sun to rise, i need to just find a way to walk to the wall and flip the lightswitch.
and i don't know why that's so hard for me.
so while i teter on the edge of pressing forward and retreating into my shell, i need to grab my own self by the scruff of the neck and shake the fuck out of me. this just isn't making any sense, and i don't know who can help draw me out. who used to get me out of these jams?
wait, why should that matter?
[gotta stop picturing myself in other people's shoes and put my own on.]
i've got some serious mental and emotional liberation that needs to happen. don't ask how, when, or of what. but i've got a whole lot of cobwebs to clear out before it all starts to make sense again.
i don't like it when i don't like the direction things are headed. and right now, i'm not feeling where i'm going. it's not even so much where i'm going - because, in theory, that's actually pretty awesome & exciting. it's more like the "where i am right now" part that's eating me up inside. i'm uncomfortable in my own skin, unhappy with my path & direction. it's kind of killing me softly in a way.
i'm not used to seeing me self-destruct.
what i thought was a general problem of motivation and will just seems more and more like a deep rut. and in that sense, i feel trapped...the complete opposite of the feeling of freedom and flight that i should be enjoying at this stage of my career. it's just dragging me further and further down. when your response to questions about things that should be important to you is "i don't care," something isn't right.
so i find myeslf simultaneously retreating and beating myself up. increasingly frustrated, outright irate at my inability to climb out of this hole ... or, more accurately, my utter lack of desperation to pull myself out.
ever watch a man who wants to drown?
i like to like being me. scratching and clawing to get this skin off of me isn't helping that cause at all. in fact, i don't know what will. i don't know who i need to talk to, who i need to spend time with, what questiosn need to be asked of me, what answers i need to give, or what i just need to get off of my chest to make me feel more like ... like i fit in this crazy, twisted, somewhat mangled but nonetheless readable and enticing picture of a future that i've painted for myself. it's like instead of waiting for the sun to rise, i need to just find a way to walk to the wall and flip the lightswitch.
and i don't know why that's so hard for me.
so while i teter on the edge of pressing forward and retreating into my shell, i need to grab my own self by the scruff of the neck and shake the fuck out of me. this just isn't making any sense, and i don't know who can help draw me out. who used to get me out of these jams?
wait, why should that matter?
[gotta stop picturing myself in other people's shoes and put my own on.]
i've got some serious mental and emotional liberation that needs to happen. don't ask how, when, or of what. but i've got a whole lot of cobwebs to clear out before it all starts to make sense again.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Nobody's Listening ...
she lingers on my tongue like
the taste of words i forgot to say
before she was out of earshot.
drifting away,
aimlessly wandering behind my
lying eyes;
i'm pretty sure she can hear
the void
and can see her echo
in the chasm.
silent like the beating of a thousand wings
that cut through the moonlight.
she left with the tide,
bringing to bear the prophecy as told
by the gypsy woman on the shore
who refused to let me pass without
placing my palm in the tattered mess of
skin and scars she called hers.
she knew.
i knew, too.
[i forget yesterdays and
remember tomorrows where
i plan on having already been,
fresh with the knowledge that
you've already gone
while i've yet to come.]
now she lives only in that space
between nightmares and dreams;
only where i choose to dance
with her in my arms,
and count the stars in her stares.
last night i held her hand.
she sang.
somewhere between dreams and nightmares,
now you know where i hide.
"i feel safe in the darkness..."
the taste of words i forgot to say
before she was out of earshot.
drifting away,
aimlessly wandering behind my
lying eyes;
i'm pretty sure she can hear
the void
and can see her echo
in the chasm.
silent like the beating of a thousand wings
that cut through the moonlight.
she left with the tide,
bringing to bear the prophecy as told
by the gypsy woman on the shore
who refused to let me pass without
placing my palm in the tattered mess of
skin and scars she called hers.
she knew.
i knew, too.
[i forget yesterdays and
remember tomorrows where
i plan on having already been,
fresh with the knowledge that
you've already gone
while i've yet to come.]
now she lives only in that space
between nightmares and dreams;
only where i choose to dance
with her in my arms,
and count the stars in her stares.
last night i held her hand.
she sang.
somewhere between dreams and nightmares,
now you know where i hide.
"i feel safe in the darkness..."
Monday, April 6, 2009
LoveLine(s),DedicatedToLastFe'vrier ...
ever-present.
haunting,
looting my dreams and plundering my thoughts.
dead eyes,
porcelain smile.
[are you afraid?]
you don't deserve the
effort i put forth merely
trying to avoid
you.
[stop staring at me.]
but remember the time...?
your picture still makes my heart jump.
fuck.
* visit http://2dopeboyz.okayplayer.com ... sorry for jacking the image/track, but it moved me...this is the problem of cross-motivations. i was hearing/feeling one thing when i started to write, and then i made the mistake of allowing the music to let me shift gears. i need a better 'piece' to go along with this track...
haunting,
looting my dreams and plundering my thoughts.
dead eyes,
porcelain smile.
[are you afraid?]
you don't deserve the
effort i put forth merely
trying to avoid
you.
[stop staring at me.]
but remember the time...?
your picture still makes my heart jump.
fuck.
* visit http://2dopeboyz.okayplayer.com ... sorry for jacking the image/track, but it moved me...this is the problem of cross-motivations. i was hearing/feeling one thing when i started to write, and then i made the mistake of allowing the music to let me shift gears. i need a better 'piece' to go along with this track...
Sunday, April 5, 2009
February Stars ...
she puts me in
another world.
melodic tempo, mixed rhythm...
psychadelia.
off-beat like the flower in her hair,
or the tattoo that graces her hip
simply stating "slippery
when wet."
outer space serenity molded against
pounding drums and
indecipherable screams.
the quiet of her dreams
shattered by the thud of
double bass - a compliment to her heartbeat.
i met her in the mind,
a sonic embodiment of her vision
that drew me to her
and away from the bullshit
i was accustomed to...
[fuck me.. i can't even finish this..]
So clearly the tone of this blog has changed. It used to be my attempt at commentary - blogs are always so serious these days - but it's shifted back to what my old blog once was: a place for me to "vent," "experiment," etc. Only difference is the readership has been slightly altered. Much love to those who choose to keep up.
Expect more of the same, I suppose...
another world.
melodic tempo, mixed rhythm...
psychadelia.
off-beat like the flower in her hair,
or the tattoo that graces her hip
simply stating "slippery
when wet."
outer space serenity molded against
pounding drums and
indecipherable screams.
the quiet of her dreams
shattered by the thud of
double bass - a compliment to her heartbeat.
i met her in the mind,
a sonic embodiment of her vision
that drew me to her
and away from the bullshit
i was accustomed to...
[fuck me.. i can't even finish this..]
So clearly the tone of this blog has changed. It used to be my attempt at commentary - blogs are always so serious these days - but it's shifted back to what my old blog once was: a place for me to "vent," "experiment," etc. Only difference is the readership has been slightly altered. Much love to those who choose to keep up.
Expect more of the same, I suppose...
Friday, April 3, 2009
Ain't Gonna Hurt Nobody ...
reassessing my 'wants' and 'needs'.
i don't need you.
[damn that feels good to say out loud.]
fact is,
i never needed you.
i wanted you,
or so i thought,
but considering the fact that i don't care
whether or not you're harmed by my absence,
you are far from
essential.
[i don't even feel the need to tell you good-bye.]
so thanks for the
smart-ass comments and
all of the remarks;
the childish pleading coupled with
incessant bratty tantrums
expecting me to both
stand up and kowtow.
[why waste time on a princess when kings are fit for queens?]
i'm done.
spring cleaning.
wish it were this easy to rid myself of every
albatross.
i don't need you.
[damn that feels good to say out loud.]
fact is,
i never needed you.
i wanted you,
or so i thought,
but considering the fact that i don't care
whether or not you're harmed by my absence,
you are far from
essential.
[i don't even feel the need to tell you good-bye.]
so thanks for the
smart-ass comments and
all of the remarks;
the childish pleading coupled with
incessant bratty tantrums
expecting me to both
stand up and kowtow.
[why waste time on a princess when kings are fit for queens?]
i'm done.
spring cleaning.
wish it were this easy to rid myself of every
albatross.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Incoming Message ...
to the new:
your mind is something
like my very own playground and
i don't want to leave.
to the old:
each time i try to
lick my wounds and hide my scars
you open your eyes.
to the thinking:
rest your weary soul;
i promise the wandering
won't cease in your sleep.
to tomorrow:
you don't scare me so
much; you're going to come but
i'm going to win.
to you:
have you ever wished
you didn't matter so much?
i wish i still did.
to me:
don't be ashamed of
who you are, what you do, or
just how bad you want.
to tomorrow (two):
i see the future.
i see you, two, au centre
but where do i fit?
to forever:
clouds never looked so -
and the earth never felt like -
but the rains... no more.
to my love:
so pleased to meet you;
my name is akin to i've
been waiting to breathe...
to the elders:
you gave me the words
to express how i feel, how
i taste life; thank you.
to the world:
i'm back...
your mind is something
like my very own playground and
i don't want to leave.
to the old:
each time i try to
lick my wounds and hide my scars
you open your eyes.
to the thinking:
rest your weary soul;
i promise the wandering
won't cease in your sleep.
to tomorrow:
you don't scare me so
much; you're going to come but
i'm going to win.
to you:
have you ever wished
you didn't matter so much?
i wish i still did.
to me:
don't be ashamed of
who you are, what you do, or
just how bad you want.
to tomorrow (two):
i see the future.
i see you, two, au centre
but where do i fit?
to forever:
clouds never looked so -
and the earth never felt like -
but the rains... no more.
to my love:
so pleased to meet you;
my name is akin to i've
been waiting to breathe...
to the elders:
you gave me the words
to express how i feel, how
i taste life; thank you.
to the world:
i'm back...
Even If ...
how far are you willing to go
for your dream?
what would you be willing to do to make sure that your dream comes to be? whose help would you be willing to enlist? would you have the resolve, the resolution to go all out by yourself just to make it come true?
what would be your breaking point?
when would you know you were in line to make it happen? what do you believe in? what level of trust do you have in yourself to make things work? in others? how long would you hesitate before you took that first step onto the open water?
of what do you dream?
is it in technicolor?
are you dreaming right now?
for your dream?
what would you be willing to do to make sure that your dream comes to be? whose help would you be willing to enlist? would you have the resolve, the resolution to go all out by yourself just to make it come true?
what would be your breaking point?
when would you know you were in line to make it happen? what do you believe in? what level of trust do you have in yourself to make things work? in others? how long would you hesitate before you took that first step onto the open water?
of what do you dream?
is it in technicolor?
are you dreaming right now?
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