I have two tokens and a card:
One I bought
one was chosen for me
and one was given.
Something about your mid twenties and alcohol
on a speak-easy Saturday night
makes you want to confess
all of the untied fragments that
you may have forgotten
living with the lint in your back pocket.
And as you reach in deep to pull out
a conversation
pieces of it spill out onto the floor like
bouncing marbles, rolling
as others trip
over or roll with them,
reversing their sides of that card.
Our histories are pieced together of frames
we choose to keep,
because sometimes we are not collecting
and sometimes we
are not looking.
Through that lens,
sometimes we are living in real time
and not thinking about how this time
will become the last time
or the times before
we realized it would keep us,
because we do not keep it.
Something about whiskey on your leg
and a book made in your hand that
makes you invert your intro
version to a complete exchange of purity.
There I saw, with one blind eye a man can still see
sometimes more than he wants to.
And if my chosen token allows it,
he may see me for the first time
instead of seeing himself.
I bought myself a smile that night,
but she unfolded after I had left the room.
A glimpse into some of my life experiences, realizations, or just the every day strange that occurs.
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Moment
I suppose I should write,
since there is no one,
in my phone at least,
who I know now
that would come
for me
tonight.
I suppose I should write
about how isolating standards
put down red tape
and create the illusion of grass growing greener... but
for what?
I want it closer,
because I can't feel it anymore.
the pillow does not smell like you
the picture is not on my desk
Nothing comes in
nothing goes out
Sealed bottle of flat soda
I close my eyes
to try and catch the evasive shadow
of the dream I once had
where you came to me
and with loving cheeks
caressed them
against my pale, sleeping chest
only to open them
to the stale sunlight in my gray room
with cold spaces
and the weights of winter's solitude
crashing on my bed
to greet me in this
flat feeling
that follows
every glimmer in a steady glance
faded
every hours long embrace
lost
every kiss
filled with cigarette smoke
in my lungs breathing
holding
for that feeling
but the burning never comes.
since there is no one,
in my phone at least,
who I know now
that would come
for me
tonight.
I suppose I should write
about how isolating standards
put down red tape
and create the illusion of grass growing greener... but
for what?
I want it closer,
because I can't feel it anymore.
the pillow does not smell like you
the picture is not on my desk
Nothing comes in
nothing goes out
Sealed bottle of flat soda
I close my eyes
to try and catch the evasive shadow
of the dream I once had
where you came to me
and with loving cheeks
caressed them
against my pale, sleeping chest
only to open them
to the stale sunlight in my gray room
with cold spaces
and the weights of winter's solitude
crashing on my bed
to greet me in this
flat feeling
that follows
every glimmer in a steady glance
faded
every hours long embrace
lost
every kiss
filled with cigarette smoke
in my lungs breathing
holding
for that feeling
but the burning never comes.
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Wake Up
It's all a distraction!
From you
for you
to step out
fall
and feel
because you wanted to
get lost.
maybe you'll never make it back home
back to you
but you had to prove it
...to yourself?
How am
I not..
-I am
Myself?
Strange how
we become
attachments
to the vice of distraction
looping through
for the sake of
progression
...of who?
The image of achievement
subdued the center
masses
for the cause
for an idea
....for who?
the only thing to overcome is the self.
From you
for you
to step out
fall
and feel
because you wanted to
get lost.
maybe you'll never make it back home
back to you
but you had to prove it
...to yourself?
How am
I not..
-I am
Myself?
Strange how
we become
attachments
to the vice of distraction
looping through
for the sake of
progression
...of who?
The image of achievement
subdued the center
masses
for the cause
for an idea
....for who?
the only thing to overcome is the self.
Not for Love
I am not in love
I am in the gray
I am not thinking
obsessively
obsessing
over
it
I just am
I am not on fire
I am in the blue
I am not asking
looking
longingly
for the
answer
I just am
at the mercy of this moment
held here
I don't feel
anything
I don't crave
Not complacent
no
just existing
and feeling
the nothing that is surrounding me
the nothing inside of me
Not depression
just seeing
and knowing
the moment is ordinary
nothing thinking
just being
and being me.
I am in the gray
I am not thinking
obsessively
obsessing
over
it
I just am
I am not on fire
I am in the blue
I am not asking
looking
longingly
for the
answer
I just am
at the mercy of this moment
held here
I don't feel
anything
I don't crave
Not complacent
no
just existing
and feeling
the nothing that is surrounding me
the nothing inside of me
Not depression
just seeing
and knowing
the moment is ordinary
nothing thinking
just being
and being me.
Monday, March 19, 2012
Now and Then
i feel so alone
friends holding up my standards
not understanding
where happiness lies
or where functionality begins
why must one be compromised?
in this tunnel of chaos
with fear and its blue legs running
from feeling unworthy
for feeling guilty
from asking for what it needs
its love is conditioned to give
giving
without receiving
and i feel so alone
caught between what i need
and selling
what the soul desires
for the standards of my cog in society's function
why must we be compromised?
friends holding up my standards
not understanding
where happiness lies
or where functionality begins
why must one be compromised?
in this tunnel of chaos
with fear and its blue legs running
from feeling unworthy
for feeling guilty
from asking for what it needs
its love is conditioned to give
giving
without receiving
and i feel so alone
caught between what i need
and selling
what the soul desires
for the standards of my cog in society's function
why must we be compromised?
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