Verse

free

2011-10-24T12:18:00.000-07:00

stumbling, blindly down the halls
of objects and pictures,
labels and arrows;
not many know their way.
some have been shattered by the light. cast down
into a coma with eyes wide,
completely oblivious.
others have sensed its
glow and wander in search, leaving
all else behind.
a few self-proclaimed visionaries
speak of it but do it no justice.
that is the work of fools.

deep in the bowels i know it's there.
it's everywhere.
you are but a speck of it;
and every piece is valuable.
let me touch you and feel it
in you for only in its company
may i be free.

Autumn

2011-09-15T01:48:00.000-07:00

oh, Autumn.

you have me deep in your grasp.

your clenching hand.

your rains come down

to wipe away my spirit.

they take my will.

your leaves that drift along

with your winds;

they are my hopes

and my dreams.

i've seen you so many times

and yet every encounter

is a surprise.

when will i forget?

your touch

reminds me of the breath of Winter.

it is the beginning of my downfall.

my dance with you is a crushing one.

by the end, i trip over my feet.

it's hard to keep my balance.

i feel frustrated.

i feel like a child.

Autumn, won't you hold me?

won't you warm me?

i need someone to love me, Autumn.

don't you understand?

am i really such a disaster?

am i really such a fraud?

if one time you have spoken with Destiny,

what is it i should expect?

i want to know

so that i can make my decision.

Autumn, i am no one.

please whisper to me again

so i may weep

until i can weep no longer.

Fireflies

2011-09-11T11:39:00.002-07:00

you float around

like dancing fireflies

against the night sky;

against my skin.

every word i say

and every breath i take

is part of a song

that i forgot to write for you.

when i played guitar

avoiding the hurricane

and your eyes shimmered

with hope, i sang.

that night of reserve

holding back the gentle tempest

that my hands were eager

to let engulf you.

these things are here.

they are with me.

i'm not sure how to sleep.

i'm not sure how to live.

if every action was for you

and my existence in chains

i would not hesitate

to ask your command.

pass me the contract

and at your feet

i'll tremble.

Little Red Balloon

2011-09-11T11:39:00.001-07:00

you're the little red balloon that

slipped from my young fingers.

with desperation, reaching as high as i could,

i watched you float away.

finally, defeated, i resigned myself and

simply watched you disappear

into the deep blue sky.

The Weekend

2011-08-26T14:19:00.000-07:00

fuck. i'm starting to feel heavy.

something i thought i tucked

safely into the past.

running through the days.

coming home to an apartment

full of strangers.

still reaching at the soil with

my feeble fingers. grasping the stubborn

roots dressed with dirt.

sitting in front of a black screen.

trying to moisten my foundations and

inspire them to grow.

the music flows about the atmosphere

permeating every crevice and marinating

my ears with experience.

it makes its way up my belly into my

sensitive heart. it reaches its arms to

embrace the corners of my chest cavity.

it forces a fist up into my dry throat.

it swallows my drive; my energy.

it keeps me still by pushing me over the edge.

summer in Texas

2011-08-01T15:23:00.000-07:00

the pavement is dry, hard and blackened with time.

the sun cracks her whip and spills over every inch.

the trees feebly raise up to cover the ungrateful cars

who become the insufficient shelter of blotches of

desperate, breathless creatures.

what seems to be harsh and unforgiving is intention-less

and impartial.

two bodies who dance in a great cosmic dance.

who is it that plays the music?

Turing's Apple

2011-07-06T13:52:00.000-07:00

it wasn't that long ago,

in my adolescence,

that i could hear melodies.

it was a time when

words made sense and

had meaning.

when life had a direction,

a purpose,

a plan.

it wasn't that long ago

when, wrapped in the sweaty

grip of self-hatred and

negligence, i flirted, winked

and waved at Turing's Apple.

washed and beaten by passion

and fervor, it was my voice

that cracked when i would

open to utter your name.

bold yet unsure, the knot

in my throat was steady, strong

and full of vigor: an obstacle.

it's now more of a conglomerate

of ifs and maybes;

uncertain and undecided.

what lives now is not a passionate cry

from the depths of my soul,

but a dampened and defeated murmur;

a sigh; a shrug.

Hope to Fates

2011-04-19T10:12:00.000-07:00

every moment here
immersed in the waters of your embrace
i pray to Her,
that if Her blade be sharp and ready
pressed against my throat,
she may find pity and delay her plot.
for in this ocean, i am exalted.
something i wish not forfeit just yet.
if my texts were to be revealed to you,
i plead to the Lord of Verse
to smile upon my words.
that you may see with clarity
and reciprocate
my truth and pause of voice.
for without reciprocation
there is no unity
and this juxtaposition of souls,
without order,
would leave me embarrassed and ashamed
for i have surrendered every hall and corner,
released my garments at your feet,
and shared with you my shadow.
if i have fallen prey to trickery and illusion,
with the veil of love pulled over my eyes,
and believe to have witnessed that which i have not;
when Her blade passes through the breath,
She will have cut the image of a fool
since he has paid in finest gold
to receive that which was thought to be vibrant and fertile
but resulted in lie and void.

Temple of Hell

2011-04-19T10:07:00.000-07:00

the beast awakens
feasting on the flesh of Terra
with arms that stretch
and grow with increasing greed.
he consumes.
the embers dance along the wind
as petals; being shed across the lands.
the perfume of a matured maiden
educated in the way of carnal indulgence.
she knows sin.
what remains post-meal
is only loss and rot
which is confused with End.
alas, under the brush and ash
an embryo which attains first breath.
it is precisely [omega]
which inspires and distinguishes [alpha].

Mon Doux, Mon Tendre, Mon Merveilleux Amour

2011-03-15T23:24:00.000-07:00

i wish i could paint you with my words.

my hands are no good

at sculpting or painting.

i want your image here.

just as i imagine;

inspired by the last

time i saw you.

it's all present:

the endless stretch of

blues with scattered,

fluffy whites.

the eerie, drudging gyration

of the tenuous,

yet youthful arms that incessantly

gather the fruit of the skies.

in the distance we see

the weathered and beaten

wrinkles in the face of Gaia.

her hands, aged and bent, wrought

with arthritis, shelter the

modest bosom of the horizon.

our backdrop:

wind-blown hair,

worriless smiles,

and an underlying fabric

of forgotten melodies

at unshy volumes.

my fingers sat still in darkness,

unsuspecting;

when curious, searchful

hands befell them to

free them of their ignorance.

at this touch, they jolted,

confused and usure. overwhelmed,

they collapsed into the

embrace. comforted,

they blossomed with joy.

in her veins, a fountain

which spilled over into

my meaty heart making

it to breathe. refreshing.

i knelt down beside her,

extending in my arms

everything worth to own,

submitting to her. this time,

it was real.

heavy,

green-molded

organ.

trampled by the feet of hope -

of happiness.

lungs. blackened. weak.

liver. wasted. starved.

a mirror. an unspeakable face.

a place where life remains

uninteresting.

where chores find disregard.

where erotic temptations are met

with indifference.

laughter.

fucking laughter.

isn't it funny?

crawling around these paved roads.

clawing.

nails cracking and breaking.

ripping away with blood and flesh.

chewing on the gritty, dirt-filled

fingertips which suffer the

loss of those nails.

dizzy, drunken spinning of lights.

collapse in a neurotic daze.

the night heaves.

quivering.

the stars shift. slip. fall.

neon lights flash and spark.

it all spins into chaos.

a godless world.

my head itches. my bowels churn.

laughing. coughing.

blood. vomit.

my chest aches.

i'm looking for it.

somewhere i can forget your name.

your wild brown hair.

your soft voice and easy smile.

i don't care where.

waltzing with roses and jasmines or

slaughtering every branch of

the weeping willow whose leaves

bleed into a neighboring lake.

just as long as the rising sun

brings peace and not war.

i would die right now

if i knew you'd come

dig up my bones and cradle

my frame.

then my skull could shine.

my teeth could labour a smile.

and i could drift,

comforted in your arms,

into perpetual sleep.

Consecration

2011-03-07T12:49:00.000-08:00

she walks by his side.

casually. only acquaintances.

yet, her eyes sparkle.

her steps adopt a new bounce.

her hips dance to the

gentle motion of his lips.

she dreams of candles,

flowers, honest and

innocent intimacy.

a solid ground to stabilize

herself. a moist and fertile

soil where seeds thirst to be

planted. her breasts,

a river that trembles

when he drowns his sin.

as oftentimes do the greedy,

he reaches out with lanky,

rusted fingers to pick

fruit from the tree of

opportunity. he opens his

leprous mouth like the moonless

night over a wooded swamp

to sip of her vivid and

robust fluids. he fills his

greasy pores with the

damp and earthy, fibrous

body of her aroma.

her sweet whining and

heavy breathing, to him,

are nameless and faceless.

only a means to an end.

in contrast, her ecstasy is

synonymous with his name

and the subtle imperfections

present in his lashes

and brow.

while he consecrates her

unholiness,

she feels exalted.

blinded by worship, she

submits to his will.

with a thick, pulsating

and dripping organ, he

finds his way. warmth.

tight.

with every thrusting blow,

he plucks another immaculate

feather from her white

skin. ripping and shredding

the tissues that embrace the

anus.

the dove cries;

drowning an old song.

illness is extracted.

the beast is showered

with her humility.

being robbed and defiled,

in juices and semi-firm substances,

she just folds over

and weeps.

Oh, Yes.

2011-03-06T18:52:00.000-08:00

in the bowels

of green, slate blue.

i stand.

the teeter-totter.

i can taste it.

sometimes it makes

me grin. a thin,

metallic grin. one

that can hold and

grasp while penetrating

deep into the funny

bone. haha! oh, it makes

me laugh. like the

broth in which i bathe.

with my empty smile

of rotting teeth and crooked

gaze. it's so beautiful it

brings me a tear. you can

feel it in the shake

of the belly of the cosmos.

as she chuckles.

breathing.

gentle and serene.

bestial and primitive.

sometimes i wonder

why they insist on talking.

my fingers

surround their teeth.

tugging away at the comfort.

slowly warping the smiles.

the look of confidence is now

a look of fear. a deep

understanding. my nails

creeping up the esophagus.

calmly dislocating the jaw.

marveling at the ripping

of the skin. the elasticity

of the cheeks. mmm...

the loose lips now gently

nestle about my elbow.

my fist firmly grips

down on a warm, wet

lubricated body of

waste-filled entrails.

i can see the enjoyment

in her eyes. the moment

they close when reaching

orgasm. her soul lets escape

a whimpering moan

choked by my bones, muscle

and skin. how wondrous!

a joy and pleasure that

even the beauty and

perfection of art

cannot

caress.

dinner time

2011-02-12T19:30:00.000-08:00

it's time now. and still

people won't shut the fuck up.

they open their filthy mouths

stained with profanities and

dirty expensive wines. their

nostrils open to absorb the

fumes from their inflated egos.

they fill pools, lakes, even oceans

with their noise pollution.

if the god some of them pray

to and exalt existed, her stomach

would probably turn,

her intestines would twist and moan,

and she would vomit and shit on

her erred craft. an unforgivable

accident. and yet they bathe and

fill their ears and mouths with

meaningless words and ideas. they act like

decent and erect standing individuals

but they still gag and puke,

swallow semen and shit,

touch with fleshy and moist intentions.

what i have is a platter, a feast.

decorated with thoughts and emotions.

an excrement of ego and society.

as appalling as it may be,

i must feed. scarfing down my pain.

what is unknown must remain so.

to be able to stand on my two

feet and smile at these fucking pigs.

one of which i am. composed of the

same blood and bones that can only be

traded for the printed paper they hold

up on concrete mountains.

we were born of a fuck

and so we are fucks.

Reservations

2011-02-12T19:29:00.004-08:00

long fingers. short fingers.

skinny and fat fingers.

all pressing the buttons

awaiting the dial tone.

eyes look up to the sky,

mesmerized; full of wonder

and hope. they've heard about it.

they continue to be told

about it. sometimes they

might feel it. daily, they

call the office wanting to

make reservations; to climb

the latter to a gloried appeal.

something that i'm not sure

is so real. but at the end

of the day, what is

besides the

uncertain?

Pieces

2011-02-12T19:29:00.003-08:00

pieces. only small pieces.

my marvelous creation.

only with small pieces.

little, tiny particles.

they came together so well.

i'm so proud.

finally, i've accomplished

something. will they notice?

maybe i can finally know

happiness.

diamonds

2011-02-12T19:29:00.002-08:00

i'm starting to taste blood.

like a vulture, like a snake.

your memory bleeds down my throat.

it weathers me away.

i've never been so close,

yet never been so far.

i'm grinding on stone.

fatigue streaks through my jaw.

fast. slow. sharp.

your demons embed themselves in my skin

so deep it cries.

so deep it trembles.

my emotion is motionless.

my soul is dry.

my mind is sober

but my heart is not.

you hit me like fire

and stuck like diamonds.

here's to you

2011-02-12T19:29:00.001-08:00

lights fall from the ceiling to illuminate her.

there she is,

the reason oxygen stays in my lungs.

the music drowns out the crowd as they sink deeper...

my eyes are fixated

and there she is...

i drink to numb the pain

and to lay down my guard.

she drinks for sport

and to lay down her dress.

the smoke rises up as if it knew;

ashes drifting down as if they didn't.

she's the reason i fell in love with destruction;

a destruction that only holds its lover.

she's the reason i can't hold on much longer;

my last strengths are dissolved.

so i raise my cup

and utter a toast.

here's to you;

and here's to me.

The Hangover

2011-02-12T19:28:00.003-08:00

day after day,

night after night,

i took you in.

you flowed in my veins,

you creeped every crevice of my brain.

your lips burned my skin,

your fingers twisted with mine.

our breathing clouded my eyes,

a deep, entrancing haze of passion.

my ears drowned in the sweet

release of your moaning sighs.

you painted me with the thick flow of red,

your blushing face.

i was reborn in every palpitation,

i plucked every fleshy string of our instrument,

i cried every note of our melody.

then you called for the final cadence.

i want to burn it all down,

the fire to consume every particle of our existence.

each second of this damnation

brings me closer to home.

feeding my loneliness to the night

2011-02-12T19:28:00.002-08:00

the sun has fallen well beyond its limits,

and here we are...

nothing but two flies in the hold of the night.

i've been chasing you for quite some time now;

my wings are pretty sore

and your spark seems to flicker.

i swear i've done this a thousand times.

in a darkness inspired by beer and cheap wine,

we find each other intermixing and

flowing in and out of ourselves

like a wave of confusion and steaming desperation.

bare instinct leads our emotions into a bitter unveiling

of truth and raw nature at its best.

it seems to fill the gaps and inconsistencies,

but in the morning who will i see?

and more importantly, who will i be?

many questions left unanswered,

and as i lay here as i came into this world,

i wish i knew what i was doing.

Life is a Disease

2011-02-12T19:28:00.001-08:00

there comes a time when our screams of passion are muted.

when the rains manage to extinguish every fire we've laboured to kindle.

when we realize our hands cannot contend with those of time.

the joys and pains have etched their paths into my countenance.

my once sparkling eyes have been reduced to colourless stones.

my breaths grow weaker and my heart toils with its once effortless duty.

we are born crying and die into silence.

our efforts are eventually forgotten.

what we've written will later be overwritten or erased.

life is in constant flux.

friends pass like clouds.

problems we leave behind are replaced with new.

that which we desire to be eternal proves to be transient.

and this impermanence is what defines our existence.

whether we fight or not, the end result is the same.

it seems the more we accumulate, the less we have.

those that know success know failure.

some choose to remain strangers to both.

when we find ourselves in shambles, how else can we move forward but with cold indifference?

there comes a time when all we've held is lost.

when that time comes, what are we but empty handed?

journey to humanism

2011-02-12T19:27:00.001-08:00

i feel the sharks in the sea

gnawing on the vestibule to my sexuality

the sun in the sky burning and boiling in some new pleasure

my flesh couldn't hunger more

my harpoon most aimed and ready

for your heart beaten and sweaty

i could lick your toiled garments forever

until the day that my blood melts

and my hair tangles into the pores of your essence

your chest jumps and bounces to my sweet motions

i could have you for a lifetime

no more would aging children like we want

a joy so contained and unnatural

like a fire raging through a forest of abandoned youth

who burn in their own growing desires

to touch each other

in the same

fleshy

way we touch ours

dripping with a sensation that only grown can explain

smelling of a bitter passion

so far consumed in the hells of humanity

that even the darkest of souls would fear

you are me

and

i am you

why would you deny me your privilege?

my bones are only as strong as your cartilage

i want to marinate underneath your skin

and grow within

and become one with your oils

your lips and tongue of simple syrup

i want to wash my hands in your waters

and as my fingers tremble

enter your womb as the immaculate was conceived

would you receive my gift?

a fire burns in my chest

twirls and sparks

if you're not careful you might fall prey

and i won't delay to devour your entity

come in with me

do you feel it?

smell it and grip it

your fingers sweat like mine

as humans we become one

in all the ways nature intended

we dance

let me taste your music

let me write your song

could it be wrong?

listen to our rhythm

breathe our loss

i grow on you

like a moss.

our dance is finite

it won't last long

let's finish it out

hard and strong

before you judge

remember this

that if our love did ever exist,

it was perfect

it was real

the darkest hole you'd ever feel.

you think you left

maybe disappeared

you couldn't be more wrong

oh tragic dear

i will come

fast and hard

to your step

mighty proud

and show you the wonder

you have disavowed.

i will shrink your world

to a fleshy ball

and smell it

and taste it

once and for all.

The Unvalued

2011-02-12T19:27:00.000-08:00

tied to the floor

watching

the dust collect on the pedestals

of love i crafted

with careful and

deliberate words.

the ink bleeds

through each twisted

and sickened page.

the sounds of every storm

we confronted together

still echo in my ears.

alas,

my offer to nurture

and base our creation

didn't satiate your appetite.

and i'm left to ask,

was it even any mitigation?

my tethered

and weakened hands

tremble with fatigue

and despair in sight

of their damned

and forsaken craft

which was laboured

to no avail

and no appraisal.

my eyes still burn

with the image of your

endearing countenance

and the fire that burned

in your eyes when you

once believed in me.

as my lashes descend

upon the age old deserts

of my vision,

even my breath grows weak,

my sight blurs.

the ghost of my

determination and fortitude

floats off

as the night evanescences

and my desire flows thin.

gradually, i can now

drift into sleep.

just add sugar

2011-02-12T19:22:00.002-08:00

what is romance?

is it a smile on your face

or the shattered remains

dropped onto the pavement

by the careless hands

of the stars?

is it the smell

of fresh cut flowers

in the delicate vase

on your kitchen counter

or the smell of decay

from something

that died long ago?

what is romance?

is it known for someone

to cry the fact

that they can't

bring themselves to

love someone?

especially after

having red eyes from

the pains of not

being loved?

is it known?

do we find in ourselves

after our daily affairs

that maybe love

doesn't exist for us?

do we find anything at all?

where do i find

relief to wash away

this nasty smell

of disillusionment

and disappointment?

do you smell it too?

i saw your delicate

pastry and after a

small bite i learned

what the english dictionary

meant with its definition of

bitter.

you are sweet

and i am

not.

and not all things

become good by just

adding some sugar.

Goodnight, Jodie

2011-02-12T19:22:00.001-08:00

goodnight, Jodie

for your sunshine can only be stretched so thin

goodnight, Jodie

your candlelight has grown far too dim

and as you lay there in bed

don't think of anything but tomorrow

because in the end

it's yesterday that brings us our sorrow

and when you feel the weight of the closed doors

it's not us...

it's not you...

just pretend it's all untrue

because the twisted smiles behind

will render you undefined

and the pictures that you painted

will start to fade

and the stories you wrote

will seem from another decade

and when you feel this alone

don't forget to call my name

because i am certain

that i will feel the same

Atomic Fission

2011-02-12T19:21:00.000-08:00

From the first motions of my mouth that moved the air particles between us I knew my face was tilted and the world around us upside down. The space between us shifted and tilted. No more air moved. No more oscillations. Only normal breathing. The ridges opened and exposed the boundary between us. The awkwardness. You could almost see the tears in the air. As if reinventing the method by which atoms are induced into fission.

disappear

2011-02-12T19:19:00.003-08:00

the night walked in unannounced.

i'm running through the vapors and ash,

my feet like pendulums.

stumbling through the days,

eyes fixated like a vagrant,

i'm playing the face value,

pretending like i enjoy this shit.

i'm drowning.

maybe there was a day i gave a fuck.

i'm not sure.

what matters is i'm here now,

with a crash course

into the eyes of an approaching freight train.

the weight is too heavy.

my knees buckle.

i laugh incessantly

trying to disregard my own structure,

refusing to cry.

as it all comes to a close

and i begin to slide into unconsciousness,

when all things go black,

i wish it would all disappear

as if it had never existed.

confessions of a boy

2011-02-12T19:19:00.001-08:00

that's right... i forget...

why would you even look at me?

i'm not tall. i'm not strong.

i'm not even a real man yet.

what do i have to offer you?

a pair of ears eager to listen to your every word,

a pair of hands to hold you when the world gets cold,

a pair of arms to shelter you from darkness,

and a pair of eyes to be stunned when you smile...

none of which inspire any kind of confidence.

i can totally understand how that means nothing to you.

if i was in your place i'd completely ignore me too...

untitled

2011-02-12T19:18:00.001-08:00

walking down a trail of refined and mature innocence,

i find myself in a new place.

our hearts pounding against each other

like children wanting to see their best friend.

two lovers rolling along with the stream

of noise and chaos.

we realize that only now

have such things diffused.

we realize that in a world of noise,

love whispers.

and with all silent and the night still,

we see the stars we painted along the way.

and as the sparks begin to fall,

we see the embers we left with our foot steps.

this is what it came down to

2011-02-12T19:17:00.000-08:00

The room twisted and turned and the agony spilled from the long cracks in the walls. Your lips twitched as the words that had lingered on them were let free to float in the air around us and pierced my ears. Their vibrations resounded and flowed like broken water into the infinity behind me. This is what it came down to. I read all the things you didn't say. Or did you read me?