December 2011
48 posts
“i have a sneaking suspicion that, in your wonderfulness, you’ve ruined me...”
– no one hits the jackpot twice.
“Live a good life. If there are gods and they are just, then they will not care...”
– Marcus Aurelius
the best time to tell someone you love them? before someone else does.
2 tags
on moving home in May.
with parents screaming at each other for the past hour and a half, again, with “i’ll go!” being tossed into arguments (fireballs that have cooled from empty use over the years)
i’m not sure there’ll be a home to move back to.
christmas
and i have never cried so hard in my entire adult life. ever. out on the back stoop in 30 degree weather shortsandashirtandsobbing because my brother is screamingandstompingandjustashell filled with this insatiable anger that comes from a deep place too far to reach.
where has my only brother gone to? he is no one that i know he is no one and in this moment i realize he hasn’t been for...
“The thing is, it’s patriarchy that says men are stupid and monolithic and...”
– On claiming to be a stupid man who doesn’t know anything « Zero at the Bone
for christmas?
i got you a plane ticket of course, followed by seven second chances. a full heart.
you should know i purposefully didn’t ask what you’d gotten me. it’d only make me feel even worse about all i’d spent on you.
my favorite song of the holidays; love’s...
apr5, 11 - dec24, 11.
two hundred and fifty posts have gone by in the time it normally takes me for a single Franklin. re-reading that post, i remember so unusually clearly who i was, what i was facing, what i was afraid of.
april became the precipice that overlooked a whirlpool of some of my most poignant memories i bet i miss you more. mayjunejuly would follow ….oh would they follow. squalls that turned to...
“between us, imagine all the hours we’ve spent, half living, waiting for someone...”
– warsan, as always.
2 tags
on the path. leonard cohen.
for C.C.
On the path of loneliness I came to the place of song and tarried there for half my life
Now I leave my guitar and my keyboards my friends and s-x companions and I stumble out again on the path of loneliness
I am old but I have no regrets not one even though I am angry and alone and filled with fear and desire
Bend down to me from your mist and vines O high one,...
2 tags
first thought after seeing your mouth smile.
come with every wound
and every woman you’ve ever loved
every lie you’ve ever told
and whatever it is that keeps you up at night
every mouth you’ve punched in
all the blood you’ve ever tasted
come with every enemy you’ve ever made
and all the family you’ve ever buried
and every dirty thing you’ve ever done
every drink thats burnt your throat
and every morning you’ve woken
with nothing...
“thus, confidence does make cowards of us all.”
“Night is purer than day; it is better for thinking and loving and dreaming. At...”
– Elie Wiesel
1 tag
“a society grows great when old men plant trees whose shade they know they shall...”
– ancient greek proverb.
there are times
when we all have heavy hearts when we fall asleep curled like children, held like a promise in the loose weave of the night.
inplications.
somewhere in the middle the in… it fell away, like rocks chipped off sides of mountains (which signs warn us about but we never take seriously) or it got lost down a wrong turn which led to a road that had a prettier view or it slowly ran out like the opaque dish soap bottle in the kitchen which we’re sure is limitless.
i waited for the in like a train on a platform looking this way...
these violent delights have violent ends and in their triumph die, like fire and powder, which as they kiss, consume.
Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene VI
“your body makes a promise
whether you do or not”
1 tag
rumi.
i want to see you, know your voice;
recognize you when you first come ‘round the corner;
sense your scent when I come into a room you’ve just left;
know the lift of your heel, the glide of your foot;
become familiar with the way you purse your lips then let them part, just the slightest bit, when i lean in to your space and kiss you.
i want to know the joy of how you whisper...
2 tags
free spirits.
When it comes to love, love of the romantic kind, she is an expert. Maybe not in making it last, but in feeling it, in experiencing it, in finding it. She falls in love with all kinds of people.
People with minds completely different from hers. People with free spirits and big unconventional dreams. Dreams so huge they scare her. She likes those kind of dreams, for the dream itself is more...
words, baby; words words words.
yours are about as worthless as this poem so far and that’s because words standing alone
mean nothing.
perhaps
the poems are about no one. and everyone i know. and all the people i’ve never met. and really about you.
and not about you at all.
december.
everyone
everywhere
returning from love
like a long war
i know it seems like
it has to hurt
but why?
what if i want you
and you want me
and i just like to touch you
rub the back of your neck while
you’re driving
through an entire city
lit up by tiny windows
where silhouettes
of people are fighting
with the people they are
supposed to be loving.
“i’m just going to say it: i thought i was sharper than this. i thought i...”
– finally i’ve put myself at enough distance to these emotions that they’re starting to congregate into actual words.
1 tag
on going your own way
Dad: I must tell you a very hard fact of life David - she's never going to be one of us. She's never going to fit into this lifestyle.
David: I know....isn't it great?
2 tags
