Monday, August 20, 2012

I Have A Friend

I continue marching past my feelings
And I have even looked through foggy windows
Thinking I’d find home
And I found leaves hanging with blood
Dripping down its frame…

And I took my finger and painted the frame
Of my face… and I smelled the scent of
Olives and then the sudden smell of
Spoiled avocadoes… and I am hungry so I
Reach toward it and I
Take it and eat some...

And I wait for the wind to blow
And I wait for the leaves to fall
So I can bury my tears away with it…
And the rain comes
and I am frustrated
Because this is my imagination

I am spoiled and spooked and lonely
And sad… I feel the darkness closer
And I do feel like I have a friend

I have a friend.

Thursday, August 9, 2012

It Isn't a House.

I don't know why I wonder  
I do want to know
Is there something to be done when 
you stand there and you see the house you've built
in rubbles? 
Do I just pick up the pieces? 
Do I try to tape the edges together 
or do I just leave.

Or do I stay till the rest of it 
falls on me... and I too become a piece 
of another piece of another piece
or do I leave before this happens again and again

Love is mysterious, sure
it is. It doesn't mean what it means
it's like a puzzled puzzle and like a story 
with missing words and a sometimes it's just a word with 
two vowels and nothing else

Love is sometimes just 
and sometimes not and sometimes pain 
and sometimes I have none

I don't know why I wonder but I do want to know
How is it that things just break 
even when they're sitting 
Sitting in some corner 
so untouched- why does it fucking break? 

Why do I have to pick up the pieces of this phantom
faceless, and cruel thing!? 
Do I just leave them there? Do I just let the dust settle 
and from the rain I see what's really left? 
What is love? Why does it have to dictate some sort of story? 

Love is Mystery. But it understands that existing takes more than 
two happy people... If I don't know what love is, I am sure I know 
what love isn't: It isn't a house. 

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

I Feel, I Fell, I Come To You.

I long
Like I long to hold you
I'll take the rope off your neck and I'd swim in it
I, I, I!

It hurts to see you
See you go
all purple with little flame
All blue, was the sky screaming in me
Hello!? I'll hang from those ropes. I live
by the swamp and I too
drink that water

I believe in tales when I feel them around me
I feel it around me
I feel. I, I, I,

It's almost like the eyes on me. Take me
Hide me. Make me scream and
with little ecstasy, I come to you
You come to me

I long and feel
Like a snake in me
Its true; it is true
I fell.

It is your retina, the roundness of your eyes
It is the water in your eyes
The fullness of your lips
The emptiness inside you that lingers
there, I linger there.

I feel, I fell, I come to you.