manifest disposition

occasionally--
i believe i have a few things to say
that i understand the motion the world speaks with
that your heart is in a plastic bag before me.

can i calculate the number of drops the sky would sigh
each morning?
could i possibly force the message to materialize within your
masked eyes?
could i ever number the lines that compose the reassurance of
your thoughtful hands?

i ask with a quivering, faultering presence of mind--
what could i possibly understand at all?
the turning of the ocean under an expanse filled with
the nightlights of the heavens?
never
the timbre of light, colors that clothe every
creature and thing?
not at all.
the delicate silence, a gossamer that enwraps
the breaking dawn?
of course not.

above all,
it is my pretension that compels
me to believe i understand.
it is my vanity that leads me into
the darker corners of ignorance.

i pale in the light of exposition.
your words are too much for me.

to believe i hold your substance in the palm of my hand..
absurd.

omniscience is a talent i do not possess.

straightforword

i place the words in a line.
wooden blocks
and daisy petals
form the perfect train.

the wisps crowd the countenance.
to bring into seclusion
the quickly growing doubt..
with a bash of your hand
could you cast it away.
but only with the angle of the sun.

a love of love is above all
a dangerous infatuation.
could i but climb into your mind
pull apart the petals of the brain
and peruse your many thoughts
could i but fully comprehend
the nature of these circumstances
the depth of your affection--

i could poison the fast growing doubt
that plagues my weeping heart.

injured eternity

as the leaf is to be crushed, underfoot
so am i called to croak words, by the by
lips around the words for now, as they should
a gatekeeper to the tomb, i ask why

scarlet orbs under brilliant eyes
surefire win, under silent skies
fair days shake under certain strain
castaways take to end their pain

a few words

the enticing strings of
the mandolin sings of
softer sunlight on the ground.

the barefoot walks in
summer sand talks in
ways we hadn't yet thought.

it may have frightened some
the sound gains momentum
blooming into a chord
that cannot be ignored.

steadily i meet your gaze
whatever i might have said
i slow into a steady daze.
taking your hand i am led
far past the cloudy yesterday.
allowing all of it to fade.

my eloquence may not be sure
my face may lose its youthful shine
my heart may leap with less ardor
but somehow i know you will still be mine.

goodnight dear world

neurosis out the wazoo

ten
tense
tension.

arms flailing
falling through space
a spacious living room is what you need
needy was I?

word
words i string together
attempt to describe
the shapes that lurk
through my head.

at the same slpit instance
i mean everything
and absolutely nothing.

scribble down thoughts like a neurotic.
my neurosis is
obsolete.

the words bang on the door
but my mouth is a padlock
you can only escape in altered form, dear palabras.
slanted. curved. discolored.
muddled.
shifty.
deceptive.

i just keep writing. i know not what i have said. ? maybe.
i close my eyes to what i have said.

i believe i have said nothing at all.

Narration to my Life. (and which of these ISN'T?:P)

motivated.
vindicated. [i am selfish, i am wrong...]

I can.
and I will.

[I am RIGHT. I swear I'm right--I swear I knew it all along!]

I always could.
but now I will.
indeed, I shall.
________________
the transition is indeed, palpable

from my fingertips
the notes will resound
from the deepest valley
of my heart
the music will arise

stamping my soul into the air
that is indeed alive
with the sounds of the essence
it has embraced.

dearest, you are the cousin of my music.
the spent shells of the wars of bygone loss
sink deep within the mud
that helps me forgive--mostly forget.
the scars you have yet to discover
sink back into my tender skin.
i digress.
the cousin of my music, you are indeed.

hello, beautiful world/beautiful life i have yet to know!
i creep up on you, hoping to s na t ch you away
like the child-stealers you so vehemently accuse
i sneak past your window at night, hoping
to find a way to put you safely in my pocket.
beautiful life, i am on the cusp of this beautiful life.

dearest, the words are increasingly difficult to piece together--
you are the best thing that has happened to me--
any other words just don't sound right.

talking to myself

small hands
interlaced.

through time i peer
searching for your gentle eyes.

your silence never cold
but not quite reassuring.

i speak endlessly--needlessly
amused, you smile.

my mind goes absolutely insane
as i try to typify this

never content am i
to passively watch time unfold

searching my brain for something of interest
to keep your attention--that chuckle i crave.

earnestly i desire
for this to mean something

i can only hope for sonnets in the afternoon
and guarded smiles in the evening.

why can't we just make out in your car?
oops... did i say that out loud?

reflection

she brushes the best kept secret behind the vase
all is well
all is well in this happy little house.

we smile to ourselves
as the wind catches our hair
remembering to take time to remember
to roll through the memories we expect to lose.

clicks of the piano keys remind that
music has its story too
that the flight through the atmosphere
is not just for you.

sauntering down those hallways
preparing to prepare or something like that
i never really did all that much
but i expect gratification anyhow.

its all okay,
and i really mean that.
we smile and we laugh because we are truly very happy
we were just told that maybe we should be sad.
or perhaps we finally discovered
the secret to letting go

a blade of grass falls down
at the beckon of the wind
all the way
til it touches the ground

but nevertheless,
a few seconds more
and it will be up again---
straining towards the sun.
hoping to capture the sunbeams if only for an instant.

a hasty yet solemn farewell is all i have to offer
the moments i pack into my brain seem destined to fall out

thorough thought

the cleanest rain ever known
falls from the sky
late tuesday nights.
the standby sufferers
sniffle their sighs
in the palest of moonlights.

the dust clouds the air
as the phantom emotions
crowd the hearts
of the underground lovers.
indifference was never foreign
among the vulturous pair.

growth

dearest little sapling,
you spud of the spring,
can i share a secret with you?

you arise with the sun
as it shines, beaming its love
you wake up with the birds

tales of gumdrops and unicorns
are spun before your awaiting eyes
the paint is thick and made of lead.

i fear for you my dearest dear,
i fear you have been told silver lies.
that rest in the web of what we believe.

but this world is colder
and bolder than the pleasant
sunbeams that dance and build you up.

society is a frost that killed off your sisters
snuffed out, the oysters have all
been eaten up-- mr. walrus is not kind.

my fears mount as i see you grow up
and follow that same course i took
the petals fall softly to the ground.

and yet

the leaf was turned.
as i walked outside through the other door.
and smelled the smells of spring
on the cleaner breeze.

what was biting hurt
is healing now.
what made me cry
is only a shimmer of a memory.

my warning stands, if perhaps a bit predetermined.
i love you, my dear,
forget not my love.

to you

dear person who happens to read this blog,
I am sincerely sorry that all of my poems have been so awfully stupid lately. It pains me to read them, and have to admit that i wrote them. sorry for whining and writing c rap. I hope to start fresh soon--to write things that are more meaningful than what i've been doing lately. I can't necessarily promise they won't be completely stupid though--stupidity has become my motif, it would seem. okay. that's all.
love,
hannah

Done

old habits
difficult to break.
i fall right back into
what feels good.

eyes closed
ears wide open
i listen and yearn
for a sound
from you
your voice was
lost on the wind
or never found
among the wolves.

all in all
this bad habit
this old habit
is something i cant live without
my addiction my curse
my life.
you are my oxygen
you are my lifeline
without you
i flounder on the open sea.

i stand in the middle
of a rickety old bridge
you call me from a side
and he calls me from the other
i do not turn to glance
to the right or left
my empty eyes
contemplate
the empty space
between the bridge and
the water and rocks below.
the empty space
that i fill
as i plummet to
the bottom.

the wind tears my skin
whistling through my hair
and roaring in my ears
the water grabs at my limbs
and the rocks split my head.

i have become dismembered
lying among the surf..
you gaze at me from above--
atop the bridge--
and all i can do is sigh
and close my eyes
inviting rest to seep
into my dying pores.

i had a choice to make
i had a cop out to take
i gave up, i
gave in to the whims
of the restless
the heartbroken..
me.

this again my friends this again [lo siento]

i review the damage
and cannot change the channel.
on a loop, i see
all of my mistakes of late.
all of them, in their entirety.
everything i assumed and
everything i falsely hoped for
everything i believed
that were simply lies
i review the damage
i survey the carnage
and cannot
i cannot
i never will
i just cannot
i
i
i
cant
what is time? it heals nothing
the damage is still there
for me to review
over and over again
i am to r tured
what is this?
an old record stuck
to repeat the same silly tune
over and over and over
again. [i lay my head back down]
[i lift my hands and pray]
[to be only yours]
my fault my creed
i cannot tear my eyes away
from the lifeless bodies
the wreckage my heart among the detritus.
seared into my brain
are images of you
and a collection of
flowery words, their thorns thick with my
believing b lood.
i am in agony
of my own volition [or if i'm just missing the sun]
replay replay replay
repeat.
what is
what could this
what is this today and yesterday and tomorrow
will my soul never grow
out of this despondency?
the lamentation that i cannot shake
cause the bemoanings of an entire month.
i review the damage.
yet the taste of b lood in my mouth
is not enough to deter
foolish child, insanity runs in the family
[yet that is not known]
bruised, my heart expands
explodes out of my chest
for what you considered
nothing of consequence
the transplant comes at an
inconvenience. i supposed.

how could i possibly get some rest
when there is absolute v iolence
to fill up my chest?
why must i simply move on
when i prefer the dark of night
to the lighter dawn?
i cannot deal in the same way (if at all)
that everyone seems to be able to.

[that boy is a monster... he ate my heart]

find the mind

i ran from the moth in my room.

i opened the microwave door, expecting the answer, and instead found emptiness.

obsessively i wonder where you are and if you could ever have loved me.

obsessively. i do not tell a lie.

ransom notes drip from my mouth.

i knock on the wood and wish that luck were in my tea leaves.

i give you the finger, before i remind you of my love,

oh my hypocrisy, how it engulfs me!

yet needy i have always been beneath the surface.

the placid waves cannot describe

the twists and turns of the current--it pulls me into the deep.

i ran from the moth in my room.

i closed the door and sobbed into my hands.

for this little creature, so plain and i n n o c e n t, i knew i could not stand.

my solitude, unexplainable, though perfectly rational in the eyes of the crazed.

crazed am i? speak in riddles and forget your name

label the crazed and label the sane---what would we be

without electric bulbs and wooden tinker toys?

blind am i, though the colors i feel; well i've convinced myself that they are real.

fog on the window, crust on the cake

i ran from the moth in my room.

describe your tears and unleash your fears

before the 7 o'clock news.

the body lies beneath the floor, and the b l o o d stains your shirt.

but i still believe you are bereft of blame.

shades of brain

it is the egg sizzling on the griddle
burning burning burning
and becoming something else
frazzled and maniacal
divested of sagacity

it is the fawn feeding in the forest
frolic free and yet feral
hiding in the safe thicket
innocent---vernal
divested of sophistication

it is the bird buried above
permanently caught in the blanket-sky
squawking, screaming, crying out
to be let down from its e c s tasy
always neglected. forgotten.

it is the tender drop of rain
prepared to dissolve on the wind
holding a world inside itself
keening sobbing weeping
and asking why it is crying.

it is the listless eye of a star
existence becomes the struggle
living for dying at the very least
longuor, lassitude, lethargy
on the verge of sleep

addiction---what i shouldnt be saying

I lay me down to sleep
And in my t ortured sleep,,
I truly weep

no hope left, i sigh my sighs

i am found expressionless.

my face is white.

my hands are cold.

i have no story that has not been told.

my purpose spent

the fountain is closed

and dreams are surely d e ath.

what news of kent?

you may inquire

but the news was stopped

at the d e ath of the squire.

what purpose have i left?

to speak idle words

until my de ath?

they don't even rhyme.

too afraid to speak or call:

not happy am i, not happy at all.

the life i lead

is void of meaning

void of love and void of hurt

numb i have become

numb to your stinging words.

i cannot feel your acid touch

and i just don't miss you much.
(perhaps a lie)
the birds in the trees

that sing morning melodies

have all come down with this disease

on the forest floor they writhe in pain

with an upturned nose you show disdain

my cold lifeless body lies in the deep

blankets of sea wash over me

that sing me into eternal sleep

they sing me songs i cannot read

that shelter me from



the lifeless life i lead.

new

in need of redirection

the clicking of my heels
as i march away

you were good for a few words
but now you are useless

the shift of my hair
as i shiver in this lonely cold

i remember golden days
when i thought much less

the heavy air we swam through
on days when the sun stayed in bed

i cautioned the wind to be wary
and wondered what it could mean

hearing and missing what was said
and closing my eyes on the very last note

everything exists in your head
yet nothing is in there at all

the words that never made sense
but were screamed at banquets nonetheless

i crawled inside an empty tire
and waited to be reorganized

the sun and the sparkling moon
and wondering who i might be

i touched the delicate lace
yet recoiled in surprise

always reminded of the arsenic
of the little old ladies

even roosevelt never knew
though you never cared to ask

it's okay (mediocre)

those words i spoke
when my soul was flying
and
when my heart was breaking

those words i mouthed
filling the air
with lies.

i have traveled so incredibly far.
i've come so far.
i am not who i was
and i do not want
what i wanted.

i realized what i needed is not what i need
...what i wanted is not what i want

to satiate my thirst takes more than a mere drop of rain
to assuage my pain takes more than a mere pill
from a bottle of placebo

is it okay
that i don't need you anymore?

you used me up
you kept my heart at your command
and i was utterly yours
loyal like the stupid puppy i was

is it okay
that i don't need you anymore?

is that okay?

i cross out your name
where i traced it in the sand
i 'x' over that place in my heart
that room reserved for you.

for the first time in a long time
i have heard the sigh
the slow intake of breath
coming from my chest
i quiet my mind and can
hear the dull pound that sets
the meter of my gait

is it okay?
its okay that i don't need your
words
to fill up that hunger inside
and
its okay that i can see past my nose
without your guiding hand.

my head is no longer inclined
to the sound of your voice
the blind can see now
that she was never blind at all.

it is okay
that i don't need you anymore.

it's babble

the ideas fall out of my head
they spill onto the floor and
slither away

you turned me insane
i calmly informed him,
you turned me insane

the love that built inside me
is decaying away
into absolutely nothing

and all because

you turned me insane
i calmly informed him
i am now insane.

what pain is this?
to kill a living thing?
to m u r der the passion you spawned?

what pain is this?
that i wither away
into nothing at all?

you promised me something
better and yet here i sit
in my maniacal state
wondering--hoping
my mind will recover
you promised me something
of which i am now not
quite sure
anything at all would assuage
my crazed heart and mind.

so i will stand in the doorframe
when the earthquake comes
and i will close my lungs when
the rain begins to eat at my skin
and i will stop the beat of my heart
when you come near me again

you turned me insane,
i sobbed into my hands,
you have turned me completely insane.

mostly vagabonds

I saw a bird today
it flew below the clouds
i watched as it
cawed and screeched
before hanging my head
in a sigh

sound reaches my ears
but the meaning is
delayed at the security gate
the speed of the verse
aids little in my quest
for truth

you don't have to be alone
to sit and wonder
whether your soul is loved
dearly.

the whispers in quiet evenings
that enchant my frail heart
have brought me to believe
a simple silver lie.
i have become a pitiable
victim of circumstance

yet my soul is the bird
that broke through
the overcast sky
my wings scratch the
procelain blue and white
expanse that confined us to
dream of only flying
and never floating
weightless over eternal seas
of otherworldly awe.

i sigh with the angels
who watch as man
cries out in his desperation
i sigh with the angels.

tossing and turning

the air is thin
the oxygen scarce
the alpine heights push me farther away
from you and civilization

my heart has a hole
that is gaping
gushing blood
but all i can see is the papercut
i mended last night.

the montane heights
pull me away from the people
the noise
they seclude me into the wilderness.

a single water droplet
i am not the rain
i am not the floods that
have washed your fields.

i am the tear that gathers
in the corner of your eye
the held back fears that
threaten your composure.

i am the single star
that guides the lost
and hides behind the day.
i am a burning ball of despondency.
i swim through the night
and shine quite bright
under my guise of self-preservation
with the day i become
ensconced in my fear
and wrapped up in my tears.

the lofty heights
leave me with little insight
as to why i cannot find the key
to your locked up heart.
why must you play games with me?
why must i be silenced?

here is another question
a query, really
an enigma that must soon be solved
forever...
am i not good enough?

you whispered to me
in the softest of tones

you lied to me
in the softest of tones

eye know you a little

I cannot be seen by the human eye

I am small
I am sitting in the shade
I am hiding from the probing public eye

my substance is hidden from observation
you aren't allowed..
you just cannot..
no puedes..

I cannot be seen by the human eye
I've been invisible for quite a while now
but I'm not invisible, just invisible.
if you don't understand, ask yourself where
you stowed that injured sigh

ask yourself where you keep the lacerated
pride.

when you find it
you should concur..

I cannot be seen by the human eye
you cannot be seen by the human eye

invisible,
we lie
on the grass under the evening sky

stuck between desire and feminism

the tide bubbled in
it frothed and it waxed
no matter how you put it
it is undeniable
that the sensation heightened
and the e c s t a sy frenzied
i sprinted forward
to catch my heartbeat
that raced ahead
faster than i could bear
my brain overloaded
my chest ready to implode

i am a warrior
shod, laden, armed
the hunt has arrived
and i am the hunter
darting through a forest
of your silver lies
i know not what i seek
i know not for whom i
gasp and pant
and want and wish
and cry and fall to the ground
for whom and what
do i grovel at the base
of this ancient old tree
of truth and light
of love and compassion?
a warrior, i am still
a war-hardened Greek
and an emotionless hun
my heart is mummified
inside its cement encasement
it is sturdily protected
from the elements of war,
of love and h a t e and indifference.
it is thoroughly guarded

from you.

our love is ephemeral

As i sit on this perch
up among the treetops and clouds
i can see my world down below
and i view the fleeting microcosm of teenage angst
of the here and now,
the up and go
this transient world of yes and no.
what happened yesterday means nothing today.
and what we thought this morning
carries no consequence,
our love is ephemeral
it is not yet enduring
i tried my hardest but,
i haven't yet been able to
meter the beat of your heart
or the pause between your breaths.
or the sigh within your weary voice.
we are no longer.
we dissipate into the wind
and we melt away under the sun.
our love is ephemeral.
we do not know ourselves
we do not comprehend.
who am i? and who are you?
how could we bind ourselves
so securely
when we don't know who these people are?
she was never quite sure.
just a little uneasy
but for her refuge this proved true.
he was never quite sure.
just a little uneasy
and it saved her from the great fall.
our love is ephemeral,
it is callow and loose.
we are children in the bodies of men and women.
we are children among children
who have never grown up.
the progeny of passionate words
and impatient desire--
our love is ephemeral.



our love is ephemeral--and I am much more okay than I thought I would be.

morning meditations

i have music etched on my bones
and i have a song that rolls off my tongue
my hair is a music staff, holds the notes up
lifts them to the sky

when my mind is connected to yours
the light shines as the easter dawn
and the music shouts and screams
and whispers and sighs.

the melody shifts and careens
and the tunes fit together
and file away into our brains
i cannot explain the sad art gallery

i feel reassured when i can see
that we have become a single unit
a human machine that is self-sufficient
and that i am spoken to softly.

on my mind

its on my mind.
your hand slides up my thigh
and i can't help but realize
that i've been thinking this for quite a while
and i've wanted to verbalize before now
but just couldn't summon the courage to.

the warmth of you is soaked up through my pores.
and your scent is intoxicating.
but the seeds of doubt were sowed long ago
and these days are days when i just don't know
what we're doing.

i worry
more than i wonder
of what could or might be.
my psychological walls, battlements, armory
they stand ready to fight off the onslaught.

i stand with open arms
but my hands form fists
i stand with open heart
but my head just won't let me..
i worry.
more than anything.

so vulnerable
i shiver in the cold.
my heart rebukes me
for leaving it out in the elements.

i need to talk to you.
but i don't know how to form the words.
i need to tell you all of this
but i know i will make a mess
of things.

you can't use me.
its as simple as that.

that gi r l .. and the former self of her accuser.

she is perfectly fine with the hands that rest around her throat.
she is just peachy with the cotton around her eyes.
she was told her vocal chords were used for mimicking the starling's song.

though I don't live in open fields,
I can see that you live within a cave
the cold stone brushes your tender pale nose
and the rough stalagmites carress the backs of your legs.
you are hemmed in, night and day and in between.
permanent power outtage.. did you realize?
you say you're warm and cozy,
just where you'd want to be..
how can you know?
oh you who cannot recall the light of day
or the cool winter's breeze.
you hide beneath the flesh of your mother's heart
and within the confines of your father's logic.
you stay within this comfort
this familiar cage.
you thank your jailor, you praise his god.
you take his food when it is offered,
never dreaming of pushing away..
afterall, this is the best--the only way.
you have never walked the ridge of chaos
and you have never gazed into the eyes of hatred.
you scarcely know of what species debate could be..
"here in america, we all hold the same truths"
you are a perfectly blank page
and you've convinced yourself that you are full of intelligent words.
do you know why they kept you inside?
all those years ago.. when the other kids ran and screamed and played?
of course not.
you don't understand the motives
you cannot comprehend the reasons
that would force such treason to be inflicted upon you.
yet.. it can't be treason... can it?
this treason.. this arson of the mind,
its roots are comprised of fear
and confusion
of a misguided, perhaps well-meaning, individual..
"good intentions pave the road to hell,"
nevertheless...

dear world

dear world,
i've lived inside your stomach,
where nothing could go wrong
save ulcers that slowly eat away
our comfortable living room..
you shield me from the other regions
that experience much more pain
and you try and tell me I'm alone
when i question if i'm sane.

what is this place?
and what am i to do
when i discover people hurt
and don't have enough food.
and kill each other and themselves
and cry at night for loneliness..
what is this place?

.........idk.

the canyon

i know.
whats best.
for me.
i am also a liar.


she, the delicate g i r l of five,
begged her daddy,
"take me to the canyon, today!
I have never seen its depths!"
her daddy gazed down lovingly,
and replied to his child,
"darling, it's quite scary!
you might fall in!"
the g ir l's big blue eyes
shone like stars
"No, daddy, I want to see the canyon
and look into its depths!"
The father took his daughter
his one and only child
to the mouth of the canyon
to gaze into its
infamous depths,
the child saw
and the child breathed in the chilly
canyon air
the mouth of a monster
it was, with red eyes that smoked and sputtered.
the hiss of demonic forces
arose from those conflicted regions
of earth
and she shuddered, wimpered.
"Daddy! why did you bring me here?!
Why did you let me gaze into its depths?"

i want it and i want it now
regardless of if i am ready
regardless of your wise advice
you can't know what i need.

a simple question (what is this?)

its just a query
that i've pondered for quite a while.
from the looks of things, you've made up your mind.
you know whats what.

but you definantly aren't what you were.
that much is clear.
i hate to see you throw down the beauty,
leave it behind
with those articles of...
manslaughter
and treachery.
you scathed his heart
with a jig-saw
and ever so carefully
carved up his flesh
into a b l e e d i ng mess..
what is left?

it was a simple
fair
unassuming (okay thats a lie)
question
that i have wanted you to answer for quite a while, now...

why are you such a g odda mn whore?

i dont know what i'm doing anymore.

who is left to love?

i ask you,
who is left to love?

cold indifference
is a stagnant fog that hovers over my shoulder.
i can barely see you through it all.

and
i need you more than i had hoped.

nosotros? animales?

the meaning
was lost in translation
yet he understood perfectly.

she wants him?
well, she will have him if its the last thing she does.

i have come to believe that we
yes we, [that means me and you and your next door neighbor
and all the little children and a d u l t s of the world]
are utter beasts.
animals.
we are animals.
we are no different than animals.
we steal and hurt and kill and rip apart
we wage our wars and we build our caves
in which we hide the souls that the god who loved
granted us.
we hid the gossamer jewels like they shamed our names.
we folded them carefully and tucked them away
and we pretended that they didnt matter
that their existence was merely certifying our humanity...
much less defining it.
but could that soul have defined your humanity,
had you let it?
we will never know..
for it remains b l o o d and tearstained in a shed
behind your shack
built from the veins of your prey
you animal.

when you weren't looking

i've written you a sonnet
i've sung you a pretty song
i've painted you a mural
that describes our love's dawn

but i think you missed
what iwas trying to say
what i tried to scream
in every possible way

you were too preoccupied
with your work and aspirations
to recognize this smile
in all our conversations.

your ears have stayed closed
and your eyes they are blind
to all my vain attempts
to penetrate your mind.

do you know what you are doing?
when you refuse to let me in?
you're pushing me away, now,
driving the stakes in.




i was a little worried
when i saw our world
become smaller and smaller

they watch us now,
without our consent
i live in a snow-globe these days.

"went for a walk with the hubby today"
did they really think we'd care?
who let them in?

who gave them the password to our secret universe
of teenage angst
and frivolity?

could you please change it, the password?
so we can shut out their wisdom, their paternal
guidance
that pushes us down roads of destruction..

it's not what you think

I stand here fully clothed,
yet na k e d before you.
for you see right through
straight to the bone
to the skeletal heart
that thumps out a beat
on occasion.

my brain, my emotions
my life
lays before you
absolutely transparent
for you to peruse, meander
dissect.. explore.
i cringe, i melt, and i faint.
the vulnerability,
is almost more
than my frail self can bear.

it's a tragedy
it's a crime
for you've broken into my mind.
you're a thief and a t e r r or ist.
and i'm not quite sure how to evict.

yet..

there was once a tale of a g i r l who spent four years as a hostage. her mind became so void of all natural common sense, that, upon her release, she claimed undying love to her abusers. her coping mechanism? her undoing?

it's intimacy
it's profundity
for you've broken into my mind.
you're a lover and a confidant
and i'd never want to evict.

and what side of the coin,
will we land on?
the cold face of dear old Abe,
bidding us loathe for eternity?
or the warm windows of a home,
calling us into safety..


IT IS NOT WHAT YOU THINK.
IT WAS NEVER WHAT YOU THOUGHT.
YOUR THOUGHTS REMAIN BURIED INSIDE YOUR OWN HEAD..

the irony. the disappointment.

it has been my experience that those who claim to be peacemakers, are generally guilty of starting a war.

you tell me my beliefs are silly
and old-fashioned.
you curse me
and the standards i have tried to uphold.
yet you advocate peace and tolerance.
you are angered by the world's unacceptance.
yet you cannot bring yourself to accept me.
I have done nothing to offend you
save hold fast to my convictions.
I have threatened you in no way,
save my silent opposition of your twisted world.
Why am I the only exception to your rule of tolerance?
I have not made you an exception to my rule of unconditional love,
despite your habits of persecution.

apples and oranges?
nay, the same fruit they remain.

just a little thought. no thing special.

i won't tell you.
no, i'd rather be cryptic
and hope you dont understand.
and hide
in front of your face
and inside your brain
like a parasite that you didnt know was there.
look at the yellow wallpaper
it was not what you thought it was
and it drove your wife completely
crazy.
that is it; i want to be hidden
inside something obvious.
the easy simple road is less of a challenge
than sprinting through the woods
in the middle of a moonless night
darting past trees
throw furtive looks behind your shoulder
to be sure that you are not being
hunted.
that cartoon you hold
you thought it was an old woman with a big nose.
look closer dear, and you will see
the young the beautiful
the profile of a g i r l.
i hope i can hide myself so adequately.
yet.. i feel this explanation is
a tad silly
and i shall stop.

blank and empty mind (mumbo jumbo)

no words. no movement.
vegetable they call him.
because he cannot breathe, eat, excrete on his own.
he is totally and completely unable to do anything on his own.
and here he sits, year after year in his hospital chair.
propped up by numerous fluffy pillows.

peel away the useless body, the layers of flesh that have long been disconnected from the brain.
peel them all away,
and i wonder what you would find?
is it really possible to have an empty mind?

where is his soul?

is he angry at being so helpless.. unable to even relieve himself of the misery, not even given the opportunity to end his own miserable life?

should he be angry at all?
is his body a prison, or a dependable fortress? or both?
he is trapped, yet safe, floating in the sea.. encompassed by the walls his brain has built.
he is incarcerated.. yet.. hides from the wild behind the bars at the zoo.

i cannot speak for you or him
and what i thought you meant
really was something i made up
but
you are really me and i am actually him
we are two sides of a coin
all floating in the same imprisoning sea
all battling the fiercest gales
all crying and floundering and gasping precious air
we are all in the same boat.. nay
we are all not in the same boat
my soaked clothes and hair reveal
that i fell out of that sea worthy craft long ago
and i think you will find similar circumstances
concerning yourself.
let us say, rather;
we are all in the same treacherous waters
for the safety of a boat, i have never known.

donde esta the culprit? may (s)he step forward!!

I'm just putting my thoughts together
I'm just trying to sift through tugging currents
of what i may or may not believe
what ive heard and what ive seen
they float in and out of my head
and they keep swirling around til theyre d e s t r o y e d
and disproven or perhaps disputed
or worse, forgotten.. allowed to sink away
into oblivion.
is this right or is this wrong, im not sure i can say
i cant quite judge
nay, i cannot judge this or that
for ive been influenced far too strongly
ive been taught for far too long
that each and every speck of conflict
has double the trouble and twice the story
you bargained for
there is not black and white
and who, praytell, took that idyllic world
and mussed it up? who grayed everything
from the sun and snow to the word and tear?
why did they do it? why
would i prefer a simple meaningless life of motion
to the colorful meaningless life of crime conflict and comedy?
because the latter
that is where we live
and i question what i would settle for, given the choice.

lies. again.

white or black
whatever color they be
they will always be lies to me
ive spun them, ive crafted
them inside my head
and ive created a vortex
a most d e a d ly web.

"yes that is correct,
ladies and gentlemen.
this little lady right here told a lie.
to be able to hang out with people she barely new.
she's a bad, bad g i r l
and should immediately die."

perhaps if you only understood the reasons
you could excuse my childish ways..

belligerency

i did not move
as i drove the car through the dry air of texas
the spider used my arm to build his home
and the music seeped into my brittle bones
as i wondered how i had come so far
and how i had tread water
yet fallen back. into the lake
of my mistakes.

you see,
i heard a little piece of news
that made me shiver in the heat of june
i thought you noble, kind, genteel
yet somehow i hear you're not quite real
my heart grows heavy
weighted down
by this snippet of accusatory sound.
i ask myself why you could not have grown
used all your mistakes to make yourself learn
that people deserve more from you
than a wave and a smile, an empty "how dya do"
you dissappointed me, that is the gist
and i falter in continuing with what was planned..

so they locked me into the prison
that i built with my own two hands
crafted and schemed through my very own plans
with every glance and shifty remark
i drove the nails and lighted the sparks
that pulled together those bars of iron and steel
and my shrine, my tomb was finally sealed.
goodbye dear world, you've been so kind
i only wish i had a little more time
to appreciate what is here and what is gone
to remember the brightness of easter's dawn.

you see, (again)
i was ever so careful to curb my tongue
to appear less overbearing than some
and to show the interest i felt was due
without letting on that i really liked you.
no i won't explain to you just how i feel
but i will still do my best to at least attempt to be real
thats right, real. somehow.
the only reason she thought i was fake
was because i was pretending that day i was nice to her.
she actually grates against my tolerant nerves
pushes me over the edge with her self-important facade.
but a closer look and and what might we disclose?
an insecurity deep as the roots of the tree in my backyard.
she feels the need to assert her worth,
and for that i pity her. i really do.



my dear children!!
pay her no heed
she pays only for her deed
of sin and strife
she tried to ruin her life
and she deserves every stripe
she tried to pick the fruit before it was ripe.
i deserve every stripe.

wrong to h a t e. or so they told us.

i always thought it was wrong to h a t e someone.
but now i'm not quite sure.
is respect inherently given? or should it be earned?

I've never liked you
and i think you're dumb
if you were a beetle
i'd crush you with my thumb
you lost the respect
that i thought was due
and now i think you're gross
and wait for someone new
why do you complain
about what you made
and why do you laze around
and allow the demons to raid
the cells and particles of your mind
really, it's what was;
the music of your soul
is now an incoherent buzz
you might have been worth
something of minor value
but now we see the puddle
of things you've begun to accrue.
like timidity and a skittish head
and the way that you used force
to bully your way
to push us through your course.
you're just ridiculous
that is exactly what you are
i'm glad i'll never see you again
from you i will run very far.

camus, you might have had something there.

are we all just waiting to die?
sitting around, watching our lives go by
like a black and white movie
or something we cant quite comprehend
what are we and what are we to do
with the time weve been bestowed.
and what is time anyway?
as if it could be saved
wrapped up in a bottle
and spent on a rainy day,
supposedly we'll all die evntually
but most of us just refuse
to accept that everything is inevitably meaningless.
im sick of arguing over petty things
and questioning the status quo
and blending in with everyone else.
black is not good enough for me, but neither is white.
ive never liked peace, but im not one to start a fight.
will you just let me sit back and shoot up tonight?
is that what we've been relegated to?
should we waste our lives on designer d r u g s
and ignore all those angry thugs
that try and try to beat our brains
and remind us that it will always rain
if there is to be a parade
and that the sun's brightest rays will go right through the shade.
why should we love?
and why should we h a t e ?
is there really any reason that we are entitle to feel at all?
who am i?
and what is this mess that we've procured?



maybe camus was on the right track.

what i became

I'm trying to explain why i am p i s s ed.
and for some reason i just cant do it.
i want a window on my forehead, so i could just show you exactly how i feel.
no words-
to mess up the essence
no facial expressions-
to muddy the tone
no hasty lies-
to mask my upsettedness
just take a peek
and know exactly how i feel.

you have no right to accuse me
no, i won't feel remorse
not about something i cannot even recall////
an accusation from a person adament on remaining anonymous
WHO ARE YOU
to accuse me?
to assume this mystical power over who you think i am?
you DONT know ME.
and you DONT know WHAT I AM.
you think you've assumed this authority over me, just because you had a chance to tell me "honestly what you think about me"
you dont own me.
and i WILL NOT
repeat: WILL NOT
be upset over your
petty
pathetic
attempts at pointing the finger.
good job, you found a fault in me. what else is new?
if i could glare at you
you son of..
i would.
id tear your soul apart with a gaze of ice
of daggers
of sleet and snow
the coldest
sharpest
most terrifying
gaze youve ever been so unfortunate enough to endure.
you disgust me
you forced me to disgust you.
you, a person i cannot even identify.
look what youve done to me.
your remark has turned me into a monster, too sensitive to function
i thought i was stronger than... this.



what have i become?!

i made myself believe it was an irrational hurt.

i made myself believe it was an irrational hurt.
i made myself believe it was an irrational hurt.
i made myself believe it was an irrational hurt.
you don't have the right to feel injured, ya silly,
you have no stake in this deal
you've no hand to play.
you were cast off long ago, voted off this carnivorous island
of betrayal.
guess what, darling?
you've no right to be hurt.
so suck it up, ya pansy.
I LIED .
to the person im always going to have to put up with...
me.
I LIED .
and now all i feel is the cold stab of bitterness that took root deep within my heart of hearts.
i left it alone, all boxed up in the unforgiving recessess of the side of my heart that begs to forget, to cast off.
but it grew and it grew into a monster that i cannot defeat.
that stab
through my back
its diseased and festering, its a wound that will kill me, eventually,
yet...
i told myself it was but a papercut, not worthy of accusations, revenge... reparation.
i convinced myself that i overreact and just freak wayy too much.
nah.
I LIED .
a blatant. unashamed. bold faced. lie.
you're fine.
no one wants to hear you complain about your so-called problems.
everyone knows you're spoiled like a brat in the blessings department.
maybe so.
but you hurt me. and i wouldnt let myself accept my vulnerability. and i wouldnt let anyone else see.. what you had done.
no matter how small in actuality.
you hurt me.
you
he
he hurt me.
h e h u r t m e .
no matter how necessary it may have seemed at the time..

you're too kind

and thats why you infuriate me.
its "please" and "thank you" and "can i get you some water?"
i dont need water. i dont need you
what i thought cant possibly be false. no way jose.
i want indifference,
and a little more "can you get outta my way?"
cause ive never been rational
what i want is never what i need and
ive never ever watered those seeds i planted
not with actual water
maybe a douse of grape juice or a squirt of cream.
but their growth isnt stunted like mine;
they have what they dont need
they grow backwards and miscolored
i have what i need, but not what i want
and grow healthy and strong
only weak in my assessment of what constitutes my life
the mind truly gets in the way
the conscious is stupid and gets in the way of my wise subconscious self
that knows
ive always been wrong.

It's just so nice to get away...

with my petty crimes.
my lies, my secret indulgence of deception.
call me a liar.
call me a tramp. (I find it unlikely that you'd go to such extremes)
but what i got away with..
nah.
not even that impressive,
but its a start, my friend. it is certainly a start.
a white lie leads
to embezzled company funds.
and a simple vein of revenge//
overtakes the whole body in seething r a g e.
but thats what i wanted.. i supposed, in my tiny little, chromosone-deficient brain.
thats exactly what i wanted.
to lie to you and feel those endorphins as i ran in the opposite direction of truth.
i hid behind that gnarled old tree as you walked by;
searching for me, calling my name.
yet
i curled up behind that tree, snickered... yet trembled.
because i knew full well...
i knew not what can of worms i had just opened.

for those of us who secretly wished to be skanks for a day

I am, above all, an undeniably senseless person.
those wishes i'd conceive, those desires i'd craft...
nonsensical.
it's no way to be, really; always wanting what you are not, and always hoping for the nails to be driven through your skin, simply because they were not there before.
Do you really want to be used?
and hurt?
shall i rent a masked gorilla to beat you into the ground, a parade of lions to chase you around the yard?
yet the secret want is still there, unashamedly glaring right into our faces.
It is not a want of abuse, but rather a want of being wanted.
in reality
we are all just lonely loners.
crying out for someone to ease our pain
we are all just lepers,
huddling outside the shining city that so graciously throws its garbage our way..
lepers.
wishing on a star that the next traveler will have pity, compassion
we'd do anything to confirm our existence
to confirm, nay, establish our worth.
what were we worth, anyway? a sick and dying people, ready to sell themselves on the black market. what worth is there in such a deal?
yet, i seem to be a contrast.. im told;
i live in a box? i am protected from the fear
and the anger
i am shielded from an immense bounding main of pain
and from the lonely depths darker than the brine itself.
so toss me into your swimming pool and box my ears with your rolling pin.
I deserve it most of all.
for having such a quaint, lovely life..
and secretly hoping to squander it at the earliest opportunity,
how dare i?

because the person who cares the most usually pays the highest price

I've carried you thus far, don't you think its worth a try?
to test out those legs you fear will break?
I've done the best i can, to help you find peace.
can't you stand up for my sake... at least?
You grasped my hand with your needy iron- grip
and i remember what it was like to attempt to pull a tree right out of the ground
i recalled how it felt to flap my arms in an attempt to fly
and i envisioned how i felt the day i began a dig to china.
what was impossible, well, we all just gave it a shot
and what was possible was too little for the dime-ambitions we bought.
being with you is like trying to catch the moon in a butterfly net
and extending help as you boil in your self inflicted misery is like taming the winds that birth the hurricanes and tilt the limbs of the tallest trees.
i'm not sure how much longer i will last, burning in this pressure to aid the unaidable.
i'm not sure how much of a toll i will have to pay for my intent on being a friend.
i just want something better for the kid i knew was best,
and all i want is to see you rise above the worthless rest.
no im not your phony elementary schoolteacher that praises your every move or hands out encouragement that only foments damage to your progress..
i just want you to live your life
and i know i could'nt stand it if...
YOU KNOW I COULDN'T STAND IT IF....

the hypocrite police... with the wooden eyes.

I see you.
I watch you.
and i know you did after you said you'd never.
I know you showed up sunday morning, but your knees they were smooth.
havent been using them lately, hmm?
yet i heard you make those sanctimonious little claims.
claims of revelation, exhortation, glorification..
more like fornification.
do i judge too harshly?
or shall i use your own rules?
do you expect to evade those rules you penned into being..
really?
the rituals. the traditions. everything that weighs you down.
FOLLOW IT
with your religious fervor....
Plant trees, and drink grape-juice-communion until your shovels and drink bury you in your early grave.
believe the truth that you mixed with the lies.
its all in there somewhere..
and hey, it all goes to the same place, right?
beliefs don't work the same as a baked potato.
my judgement stands true; it stands justly
except maybe there's a single anomaly that
i refused to accept..
i ignore it constantly,,
for fear that it will destroy my self righteous assailment of your hypocritic practices.
this little fallacy.. that i overlooked.
the hyocrite was never you.
Loan me a mirror, will you? there may be something wooden in my eye...

Debonair

"...oh so debonair..."
smooth is whatcha are. whatcha are.
when ima ridin in your car. in your car.

hey there i thought i'd just let you know.
that i think you're pretty fly.
more than i expected to allow myself to think
of you.
before i can catch my breath and before i can calm my glittering eyes that do all the talking even in the silent war-zone...
the grass i stood on is just sinking sand
and i can't see you anymore 'cause the dirts in my eyes
and im plunging right on through the earth
crossing my fingers for china.
cause you know we all wanna dig a hole to china.
but you're up there and im falling on through ugly ol' down here.
the worms and the rot grab at my particles
my particles are falling apart; my substance is a'falling apart
the glue that held me together is up on the surface as i sink to the ocean floor.
the crust the mantle the core.
the pressure pushes me, makes me implode.
i was tall and well filled out, now im withering, shrinking
dying just a bit faster
there aint no light down here
take it from someone who'd know.


dont try to understand the story meant to puzzle you
dont rock the boat
dont cause those problems, dear.
you just listen to your elders and listen close:
follow what they say, and dont rock the boat, dear.
they've been there before. and they're still on the boat.
live it play it safe. and you'll stay on the boat too.
dontcha wanna stay safe on that boat, dear? hmmm?

cold toes... lukewarm heart

i know you expected the contrast.
but it felt better to disappoint than to cater to your expectations.
I am not original.
i just do exactly the opposite from everyone else.
that is not original.
that is being predictable.

dearest dear, you child of four
do you know what you're living for?
you run and play and hide in the dark
but you run from fear of dogs that bark.
obstinate, you tell us "no"
though you really never wanted to go.
dearest dear, you child of four,
can you hear us through this door?
I have been all locked out today
all i had and all i'd say
the things i thought would benefit
have all proved to be a pile of. s. h. i...
so please don't tell me i am unique
can you all just quit lying to me?


what is blue has now turned white
and what was peace is now a fight.
the cheshire cat seemed to have it right
when he claimed nothing is as it seems.

To Work at the Moulin Rouge Would Probably Suck

i am a piece of meat.
sold in the market, to the beasts of flesh.
There is no value in my intellect
my personality
my spirit
my mind
my intelligence
my accomplishments
my connections
my tact
my education
all i have to offer is the tangible.
"what will it be today, sir?"
You can sell l u s t , but no one has ever fully been able to master love enough to constrict it to a marketable bottle.
make your life easy, but in the process, make mine nothing short of h e l l.
Who am i?
They tell me i am an asset to business, a number, a piece of equipment.
Where has my humanity gone? where did they hide my freedom and pride?
I was thrown into a dirty pit to smoulder in the ashes of your forgotten refuse.
what have they done to you?

Zoo... She claimed, "I live in a cage."

My arms slowly snake out of my barbed cage.
You walk by casually, you glance around you at the exotic, unfamiliar animals. you peruse with your eyes. you relish your superiority.
My fingernails dug in deep.
Your skin is broken; your b l o o d spilled. Your surprised yells alert the keepers who swiftly beat me away from the edge of the cage.
The filthy body in front of you huddles in a corner. Those gleaming eyes follow you as you retreat into the wilderness of unrestricted freedom. You try to forget the unpleasantries.
I cannot forget the fetters that shackle.

Journey to the Sun. (but not back)

put on your metal pants.
the ones in the closet, behind the orange shirt.
put them on, and come on.
we are going to the sun
we'll fly in our fuel efficient space shuttle to our fiery demise, knowing full well that only d e a t h and destruction awaits us at our grisly destination. Yet, onward we'll soar, onward we will plummet.
sip your lemonade and make polite conversation as the sweat begins to trickle down our brows, and the parched feeling penetrates through our tongues, jaws and down our throats. Comment on the weather before your heart has a chance to stop beating; tell me everything was always okay moments before i meet the steam. the burning gas of goodbye.
"How are you?" I ask, wanting... well, not wanting a truthful answer (a dutiful friend I am, for showing my undivided support)
"Good" You answer, a liar you've been. (but i don't encourage pearls before swine, as I offered little more than pig-like consideration)
Neither of us are "good"
Unless you count the end of misery something to be gained.
and the end of misery it will be; only at the hands.. the rays of the time-table master.
so, come with me, won't you?
it's just like any other day in the lives of those who don't live, those zombie children, those lifeless wastes of space...
as we travel to the sun.

just a'ponderin

It's a useless infatuation I have
for that boy behind the piano.
And it's a ravenous wolf that will
eventually destroy itself I know.
It's all truth no use denying
the facts for everyone to see.
But I still construct my tinted windows
and dark curtains to completely hide me.
Why am I so dark and gloomy on
a day that calls for pink sunglasses?
Why is my disease my precarious malady
a self-inflicted 30 lashes?
Time was never my friend
and we will never be on good terms.
But all I know is that I love you dearly
and that I will share the gummy worms.

I always knew I would be able to resurface, but now I am reduced to wondering if there is even any hope left in this angry world. Is there any hope left out there for lil ole me?

The secret worlds of other people
and realizing that you're not the only one with an opinion.
No. I won't let you say what you are thinking until you've heard a thorough synopsis of what I want you to hear.
I am vain.
I am self-seeking
I am small-minded
But, hey, it can't be my fault can it? After all
I am not responsible for what I learn and don't learn
Of course, nothing is my fault.
The world is inherently evil while my little ole self is most definantly inherently good.
And yet I slip and slide down that self-righteous mountain, while everyone is destracted by the decoy resting at the unattainable summit.
Look. (over here) (I crave attention, baby)
I think I've let everyone in the enitre world down.
You think I am this way, while I am most definantly that way.
I am not who you think I am.
in my heart of hearts.

Our Selfish World

A Secret... Okay, A Well-Known Fact That I had to Reiterate...
Let's face it. People are selfish.
They use and they steal and they expect others to love them unconditionally and they expect others to forgive them.
YET.
People refuse to let go of the wrongs done to them. We want to be forgiven without having to forgive.
I (and all my friends for that matter) am at a ridiculously selfish point in my life by nature. Everything has got to be all about me or it just isn't interesting or isn't worth my time. My needs and wants must be met before I/we/you can even think about what would benefit the people around me. I am fairly certain that i speak for more than just myself when i say; we live for the approval and attention of our peers. Why wear cute clothes? Do people generally wear cute clothes on days that they expect to stay at home? um, no. You dress up to impress someone, be it a guy a , anyone. People just want to be loved and accepted more than anything else in the entire world.

Overcast and shadow

The world is asleep.
the wind is dry and uninviting, and the sky is overcast and grey.
no snow in Texas, only yellow front lawns and cold concrete streets to greet my tearless eyes.
The bare-armed trees reach passively towards the sky, begging the sun to come back from it's seasonal rendezvous.
It doesn't listen.
It climbs higher in the sky, hiding behind the clouds. laughing down, mocking it's subjects. it's slaves.
"It's not time yet, I'd rather stay up here than have to warm the earth for summertime"
but when WILL it be time? when can we hope for rays of sunlight and light-hearted peals of life-giving laughter to envelope us in an embrace that reminds us we are alive?
the cold, the horrid cold, with its spidery Jack Frost fingers tickles our spines and causes shivers to rack through our beings. a cruel joke it plays on us; its a prank we cannot escape.
no mercy, no intervention on our behalf from the sun.
we are destined only to be prisoners of a dreary world, half asleep in our quiet cocoons. the hibernation that will take its toll slowly silences the protests of even the boldest.
all that you can do now is...
sleep

TellMe

I felt low today.

for no reason at all.

I cried a few tears

and waited by your car.

the sun beat down

and the wind blew up

the sounds pulled me right

but the rivers pulled me left

and i left

because i knew you

couldnt come

i left because i knew

you wouldnt come.

I felt low today.

oh. now i remember

There is nothing quite as irritating as the senseless chatter of people who really have no idea what they are talking about.
Oh wait. Actually there is one thing...
Yea, when you realize that YOU [yes you] own the vocal chords that misinterpreted and slandered the good name of those more intelligent than you, thats what is discouraging, when you realize you are actually a really stupid person and should not have been let out into the world...
...you end up asking yourself; "Am I better off sweeping streets and collecting garbage? Does this world need me at all?"
Its can be as simple as sitting at a lunch table with friends...
Conversation flows while you calmly work on your capri sun and pb and j...
but here it comes..
that crucial point between swallow and next bite--you make a comment.
silence ensues at your table.
slowly each head turns to gawk questioningly at you.
WHAT did you say?

"umm... I said that Chlorine kills AIDS?"