Mean Poetry

2007-03-21T18:35:00.000-03:00

i think i've found myself a home
a place for life to take ahold
my roots have found a water well
the sky pulls up, inspires growth

the road grows wide
___my fingers, toes
______dig through air
what matters most
___uncertain breaths
______are in the past
_________and in the future
______they will come back

But here, oh earth
___the smell is sweet
I lick my lips and lift my feet
I praise my soul and know that deep
under this spot a rhythm beats
___and keeps
___me here.

never been home

2007-03-20T11:11:00.000-03:00

The road finds my feet.
My secrets kept
the space between.
Not wide nor thin,
just enough to miss.
Taste of breath
replaced the kiss.

As comfy as it seemed
there's other wheres to be.

If you'll agree
then walk with me.
We are free
to come and go.
The world is big
and draws me in
but nomatter where
i have been
I've never been home.

2007-03-04T10:51:00.000-04:00

My poems desire flow too much
raised on rhythm and dr. suess.
Rhyme and passage of time and such
effect the words i pass to you.

When tones control the waves of time
and music not meter gives pace to the lines
then i can avoid the obvious rhymes
and perhaps say something meaningful.

2007-02-09T08:49:00.000-04:00

I love like wind which loves the tree
my hidden strength removes your leaves
intentions masked by peaceful means
I leave you shiv´ring violently.

Sedated by my subtle touch
convinced i haven´t asked for much
your leaves believe they fell by chance
while air blows through your ev´ry branch.

Feb.8 2007

2007-01-27T15:28:00.000-04:00

we are the children of the earth
born fast in a quiet revolution
where our hearts beat louder than our drums
we are the twisted sisters of sorrowed hearts
who are born alone and die alone
we live not for religious pain or agnostic hate
our fatherless watch is our freedom
our tasteless food and ragged hair define us
more than our riches ever will
we laugh and love and make love
and fear not those who will rule
for the only shackles that bind
are placed heavy on the mind
but our chaos is designed
and our disgrace is truth
we bow only to beauty
we speak only in grace
we don't long for freedom
we are the children of the earth
freedom longs for us.

success

2007-01-18T10:21:00.000-04:00

be a good person and the admiration of the people who love you will be at your feet;
be a successful person and the admiration of the people who lust after you will be at your feet;
mutually exclusive they are not but if success and glory and legacy are life's goals,
to whom will your bell toll when the time comes?

snapshots

2006-04-25T22:40:00.000-03:00

hard and fast,
barely distinguisable from pain,
grabbing and pushing,
a knife sliding over skin,
opening up, moveing pulsing organs out of the way,
bodies sliding over one another,
breath hot, reflected,
an ocean crashing,
thrusting the sand back, slowly retreating,
fingers sliding down the back of a neck,
bursting out atop a mountain,
looking down, survey the conquest,
quest complete.
fuck.

(that felt post modern HAHAHA)

lonely

2006-03-19T12:47:00.000-04:00

another grey morning
with sun beaming in my window,
clouds fluffy white
against a perfect blue sky.
if you would look my way
i would smile
so that you would never know
inside
and maybe if you looked long enough
i would forget what i was hiding
and i would just keep smiling.
it's been so long since
you've looked my way,
so many grey mornings,
i hardly ever count anymore.

surrender

2006-03-18T19:23:00.001-04:00

the dirty dishes on the table
marked with a meal that was meant to cheer her up,
a meal she didn't cook.
old classified ads
decorated in black x's
over the top of highlighter dashes.
a damp spot
on the futon
where she left her wet towel.
everything reminds her
that she is nothing;
that she is not
what she wants to be.
she is not what anyone wants.
that might sound dramatic
but really,
no one wants
what she is.
no one calls.
no one touches.
no one says words
she wants
to hear.
no one sits when
she wants
some company.
as the sun set
she crumpled herself,
like a note that is done with,
in the shower.
she let the water hit her
as it wanted
until it stung.
(he would never hit her.)
she washed off
all the makeup,
and all the hair product
swirled down the drain
along with the efforts she had collected for the day.
she didn't know what
she wanted.
she didn't know what to say
when she turned off the hot water
and left the musty, steamy room
into a world
where she felt she was nothing.
so, as she came out, she remained silent
like nothing
and wanted
for something.

carnations

2006-02-20T10:52:00.000-04:00

there were almost never flowers in my house as a child,
and when there were,
there were carnations.
it was probably the only flower i knew as a child.
they were the practical of the beautiful gestures.
they weren't too expensive,
they didn't seem to die too quickly,
and they were always there, ready for us.
they all stood,
all the same,
staring up at us,
hoping to be picked out of the almost uniform crowd
before they wilted
in the fridge of the flower shop nearest my house.

she told me one day about carnation oil.
it was really valuable, she told me.
when she had smelled it,
she thought it was the most beautiful smell.
i watched her as she got ready to go out,
in awe of her beauty.
she put oil on her skin and on mine.
she knew of flowers i would never see.
it was like she was an expert in a million subjects
and flowers and beauty and scent
were three of the million, i'm sure.
and she had picked out carnation
as something special.

in the quiet

2006-02-17T22:56:00.000-04:00

he sees her as she curls up on the bed like a child.
he is watching with patient blue eyes
that have watched her do this a million times
and will watch the scene calmly a million times more.
he puts his arm lightly on her side
ever so carefully
because he doesn't want to start the fight
about how he is only there for the sex
but he also can't give her too much space
because then she'll say he doesn't care.
she understands his predicament
when she feels his arm rest on her;
his body about a foot away.
she tells him that she knows that he is playing a game.
she apologizes for making him afraid.
they both just want him to say something that will make her feel okay;
that will make her act normal.
but the only normal act she will take up tonight
is crashing into sleep
after too many emotions ran marathons through her.
and he will follow her on tip toe
until the morning sun whispers them awake
and a new day begins.

middle finger

2006-02-12T22:37:00.000-04:00

i tore away the skin.
i ripped and pulled
over and over
until it was all gone
and clean
and sterile.
i couldn't feel a thing
and i don't know why
but it encouraged me
to dig further.
the top skin was no good.
it was crusty
dry
old.
it was puffy in a way that made me think
that something was wrong with it
and that i could dig out some infection
or something.
now it is pink and new,
fresh and smooth.
now it will become hard
and with some time
it might not sting anymore.

another bunch of words

2006-02-12T17:13:00.000-04:00

it feels like i've been standing here forever.
and it feels like that every time.
it's cold and it's dark and my feet hurt
and i am counting every second that i feel this way.
they must see me
standing, waiting.
they must laugh at the
foolish girl
who still has hope in her eyes
while she has soaking wet freezing socks in her old shitty boots.
it doesn't even seem to matter anymore
what i'm waiting for.
i could be waiting for a change in season.
i could be waiting for a season
that defines itself in tangible qualities
instead of in what it lacks.
there is nothing fresh.
no fresh snow.
no fresh grass.
there is just nothing.
there is just me.
i am alone.
i could be waiting for someone.
maybe, with me standing here foolishly,
endlessly,
someone would know where to find me
if someone was to look.
after all, i was told from a young age
to stand in one place when i got lost
so that someone would find me.
and i am lost.
but the longer i stand in this spot,
the more it becomes clear to me
that this is not a place where people are found.
this is just a place where a foolish girl stands and waits
cold and alone.

untitled

2006-02-07T21:20:00.000-04:00

i am taking for granted
everything you want.
i feel empty and twisted and sore
in your dream.
when everything you see
is such beauty
you're left knowing
that you're the ugliest thing in the room.

inside

2006-02-02T12:34:00.000-04:00

i sat in a seat like everyone else's seat
and i took down notes here and there
on paper that was like everyone else's paper
with a pen that was any pen
and i died and rotted and was reborn a million times over.
i heard music that no one else heard
that maybe you were hearing
that you had heard me sing
that i had heard you sing not long ago.
it wasn't legitimate anger; it was redneck anger.
loud redneck anger that made us laugh
and didn't allow us to finish the phrase.
but it became legitimate anger as the night went on,
which also took the words from my mouth.
i wrote out the lyrics
that always make me think of you
and my paper diverged from the papers of the rest in the room.
my paper became my mind
reaching for you.
i wanted to know that you were alright.
i wanted to know that we were alright.
but you and we don't really live inside of words like alright.
i just sat in a seat like everyone else
and i died and rotted and hoped and remembered
because it's all i could do today.

possession

2006-01-23T14:14:00.000-04:00

you ask me to put my hands in the air
as though i were something wild or not to be trusted
and i do as you ask.
i raise my arms.
i trust you.
i place myself in your hands.
you take my wrists softly
as to not break me
and wrap them up.
you dance the rope around
and pull it tight down on itself
as air escapes my mouth.
my heart pushes my blood
to meet where the rope is pulled tight
at a pace that is quickening.
the back of my hands against your bedposts,
the rope around my wrists,
the back of my body against your sheets,
the front of my body open to the air,
vulnerable to you.
and now, as i lay here,
and every inch of my body waits for you,
you might know that i am yours
because it is concrete.
i have always been yours
but it wasn't always so blatant.
and i wait for you with every breath,
for gentle touch and deep pain;
for everything.

magic eye

2006-01-16T14:02:00.000-04:00

i never could get those magic eye things.
they were everywhere when i was younger.
there were books full of them that my friends would look through.
they were even on the back of cereal boxes.
everyone else would smile and say how cool it was
and i would sit there with the picture,
crossing my eyes,
focusing on one point,
holding it closer to or further from my face.
nothing.
i got close once.
something started to drift out of the mess of colored shapes towards me.
my heart began to race;
would this be the beginning of a wonderful life full of getting the magic eye things to work?
after all, i heard that once you figure out how to do them once, it's much easier.
but then i lost it.
god damn, i must have gotten too excited.
i learned to deal with my inadequacy.
i was just not meant to experience the joy of the magic eye pictures.
but then, now, years later
the most beautiful things in my world
are the things that only i know how to see.
so maybe it's not so much that my vision was fucked up
or that i didn't know how to look at things
as much as i was just waiting for something worthwhile to see.

until i can sing for you

2006-01-12T13:52:00.000-04:00

i am here
listening with all my might
and taking it all in.
i am in motion
but it's not enough;
it's never enough
to get rid of the aching in me.
i could drop to my knees
or float in the air
but the feelings can never be expressed
on the outside.
i could cry
without knowing what emotion i was crying for
just because i know there is some emotion in there
that i should be crying for.
it fills me so completely that i don't even notice
that my feet are soaking wet
and that it is freezing cold
or anything else.
i think the only thing that would get it out
would be to sing out loud
at the top of my lungs
but i can't do that right now
so i will wait for release.
i will wait like i wait for you.
i will ache like i ache for you.
i will get lost in the music
like i have gotten lost in your words
and your eyes
and your hair
and you.
you are my music
and i will wait for release.

evolving perspectives

2006-01-03T14:10:00.000-04:00

you are the movie that i loved
when i was seven.
i dusted it off years later
and watched it
and saw its stupidity
and all the holes in the plot.
here i was, for years,
loving the memory,
but when i really looked
it just wasn't love.

you are the dress i wore
in 1990
when i wanted to look cool
and now it would be so ugly
i can barely stand to look at it.

maybe if you had stuck around
i would still love you without you being relevant,
like the baby blankets
and imaginary friends
that i still hold dear.
but you weren't something to be held close,
and you had no part in my life for too long.
you are no part of my life.
you are just something i pick up occasionally
and laugh at.

measuring worth using someone else's scale

2006-01-01T23:41:00.000-04:00

when you said 'this probably isn't the smartest thing to do',
I thought to myself 'nothing about us is smart',
but I didn't tell you that,
because I didn't want you to stop,
I wanted you to keep going,
I hoped that eventually the rhythm of things would change you,
change your feelings towards me,
and eventually I hoped your whole self would change into someone else.
So, I whispered back that it was allright,
and if you wanted - I'd drive you home.

that moment I realized that you treat me exactly how I let you treat me.
and I wished you'd suddenly treat me to a suicide,
or a root beer float,
or even a movie.
I wished I hadn't walked away from something worthwhile just to end up with you,
trying to make it worth my while.

I keep quiet - help you get your shit together and wonder how long it will be until you bother to speak to me again.
but I'm too scared to ask, cause deep down I know,
I just don't matter that much.
and it's so much easier to leave things grey,
then have to deal with the black and white.

words for a beautiful girl

2005-12-30T15:29:00.000-04:00

there's a note on my desk that reads
she leaves at 9:30 so will be at the airport after 8
so that i would remember to call you yesterday
to tell you that i love you.
it seems no matter where i am today
my head is in your house.
my head is face down in your pillows
breathing them in deep and thinking
yes, this is what her pillows smell like
and smiling.
my ass is on your floor
and my eyes are on the ceiling
looking at the cracks.
my ears are deep in the music
you played for me
when we laid on the floor together
and you fell asleep on my chest.
all these words to show you
that we are not so far apart this morning,
and i would never need a post-it
to remember to say
i love you.

2005-12-30T03:23:00.000-04:00

I don't know what i believe in.
I don't know why you believe in me.

I dont know what's driving my feelings.
I dont know what has been feeling me.

I can't help but hope that there's something.
Something that knows what my eyes can't see.

Maybe that something is inside me.
Maybe that something is all i'll be.

If there is
nothing,

if i'm coincedence
if i'm a face
that leads life to it's cercumstance
to find out why we belong here
or if chance has lead us wrong
then i'll die sad or happy,
no question of is this all.

Want to believe that this isn't the whole shibang.
If that's the case i might put all the world in flames.
Because why the fuck not.

Am I happy?
Am i settled?
Can i make myself a God,
who would lead me,
now that He conceived me,
into being what i always was?

If i starved myself to death
and all my thoughts became air born
would they make a bigger difference?

Chance is the best thing possible.
Never caring what is logical.
Never sparing whim nor hope,
Change is the best thing possible.
Noose drawn
silver rope.
And a crowd of ten thousand
will raise up their chins and
watch me choke.

Watch me choke.

I will die for a reason.
sure i dont know why.
But i'm tired of feeling.
I'll bleed and cry 'till my pain's outside.

Look around and you'll see them.
My tired eyes looking for a call
Desperation swears they believe in
a meaningful rise that comes before the fall.

Stab me in the gut.

I'll die slowly and painfully,
with too much BLANK to worry about why
i'm happy to die here,
or why
pain is all i want in life.

loss of vitality

2005-12-26T12:06:00.000-04:00

i am pinned down
to the bed in the spare room
while you are next door
brushing and flossing your teeth.
you peek in but
you don't see what's holding me down
so you leave them there
as you walk out
and they sink
further
trapping me.
i breath shallow breaths.
they don't satisfy.
i think to myself,
we could live out our days in this routine.
i think i may never leave here
and i think you may live
going about your life
barely being bothered
by the stench
of the dead girl
rotting in the spare room.

Close Enough to be Fooled

2005-12-24T12:38:00.000-04:00

If I could just shut up for a minute,
I'd see through this whole facade,
I talk too much and I'm such a bore,
If I thought for a moment, I'd surely see,
You're faking those smiles,
Your kisses aren't real,
You just haven't found what you're after,
So you'll stick around with me,
While you pass the time.

I think I'm a wonder drug to you,
I keep you high while you're feeling low,
My words are so sweet and warm,
I'm willing to give you what you want,
My smiles want too much,
My kisses are true,
I haven't found what I'm after,
But I'm such a pretender,
It's hard to tell.

These fleeting glances have all gone,
There's nothing real left to say,
You don't love me, you never will,
I'm just out to feel the thrill,
But we'll smile like it's right,
And we'll kiss to be vain,
Never quite getting what we wanted,
Never really wanting,
It at all.

i told you so

2005-12-18T23:15:00.000-04:00

we are laughing at each other,
how far we have come in our undoing.

the politics of getting old are lost on us,
we're too busy having fun.
we're losing peices of ourself all over town,
loving things we shouldn't just so we have something to remember,
loving things we shouldn't just so we know what if feels like to love.

our old friends pity us,
their eyes don't see pink, or any shade near it, when they look at us,
when we look at them it just reminds us to thank god we left that behind.

look, look how far we've come!
it's like night and day,
the difference between a girl who doesn't know how to hold a tube of lipstick and the one who can move her body with such confidence that men lust,
and we are supposed to believe we've done something wrong?

i look at the world reflected in eyes that have never known such happiness,
razor blades that are only used to shave legs,
the idea of tomorrow that you only want to put off so you can enjoy today more,
and i think;
i'd rather fear death, than spend a life waiting to die.

(i want the perfect line to end this..)

as i sit motionless

2005-12-14T12:29:00.000-04:00

the better part of my day
is spent thinking about the potential of tomorrow,
and the best part of my day
is spent thinking about the potential of us.
i think about where we have been and smile
i think about where we are going
and smile
and daydream
and revel in the butterflies that have chosen my stomach as their home,
as i have found my home in your love.

My Words are Getting Pretty Lame

2005-11-27T13:21:00.000-04:00

This is actually a song I wrote this morning. It's pretty great to sing tenor, like a Magnetic Fields song.

I used to believe that love was Hallelujah,
The feelings would drive a stake right through ya,
Until one day you came to stay,
And I was never quite the same,
I think my words are getting lame.

It's not quite puppy dogs and springtime,
Although I'm sure the words will always rhyme,
There's not a thing that I would do,
To protect my eloquence from you,
I think my words are getting lame.

I'm not quite sure I'm meant to write,
Or paint or draw things that excite,
I can't quite turn this smile to grim,
I feel the optimist will win,
I think my words are getting lame.

There's something in the pain you feel,
That makes you seem so very real,
But I'm as real as real can be,
And I can honestly agree,
My words are getting pretty lame.

a moment of beauty

2005-11-20T01:01:00.000-04:00

i can see holes in the darkness
where the light creeps in.
it seeks your skin
and i follow it.
i stare at the outline of your face
where the light has reached you.
my eyes slide down slowly
as to not miss anything,
until i have taken in your whole face.
it is everything good in this world
and right now it is peaceful
and the pain isn't so apparent.
right now nothing could be wrong.
the air is slow
and time is gone
and this is forever.
your beauty is forever.
love is forever.
the air is soft and warm
in a way that life hasn't been in a long time.
it is like a dream.
but i know it is real
when i touch the side of your face.
and i know it is real
when we have to flip the record to the other side.
still, it says a lot to have more moments
filled with music
than those that sound of records scratching.

David and the San Francisco Giant

2005-11-18T13:57:00.000-04:00

I'd marry if I loved you,
But those days are far away,
Instead I'll write my poetry,
And waste my time away,
Faceless Gods and philosiphers,
The things that make you cry,
I'll watch the match with one more beer,
And force you to decide,
If it's worth the things you've given up,
To find that one true love,
Whose ragged shirt and eloquence,
Just aren't enough.

I'd marry if I loved you,
But we've never really met,
Our outsides move in unison,
The moment we forget,
The reasons that we're coming here,
The foolproof alibis,
The trial is on lonliness,
Conviction is quite nigh,
And I can't afford another charge,
My record is quite long,
So I'll just play the role,
And write the songs.

I'd marry if I loved you,
So hurry, don't delay,
I know you're out there painting,
Or creating me with clay,
You're desperate for the inspiration,
I'm looking for a spark,
Ignite my fire and all the night,
We'll warm here in the dark,
We'll grow old in ways together,
The wrinkles tell the ways,
We dove for glory just like,
Willy Mays.

the commonalities of you and jesus

2005-11-12T17:31:00.000-04:00

i was your disciple.
i hated denying you.
i could hear the cock crowing,
but i just didn't have the balls
to choose any alternative
and you knew that would be what would happen.
i think you wanted it that way.

they wanted you to identify
and you just kept saying
that you were what they said you were.
but they never knew what you were.
they never got you like i got you.
i think by the end you knew that
it didn't matter what they were saying anyways.

you were so amazing.
i think it was hard for me to know
all your wonders
and to know that you couldn't make things right
for yourself,
for me,
for us.
it took me a long time to understand
that you couldn't live for me
and that you are still with me
but just in a different way.
it's still hard.
but i will have faith
and i will share the good word
until you come again.
amen.

home

2005-11-12T15:18:00.000-04:00

if i didn't feel this sting
on my bright pink cheeks
i might not ever know
where the cold stops and the warmth begins;
where the outside world stops
and where my home begins.
but i do feel it.
i walk in and my skin sucks in the warmth
until i am the warmth that the room held.
and here it doesn't matter how the wind blows
because i am the warmth
and the warmth surrounds me
and i don't have to face the cold again
until tomorrow.

2005-11-09T11:52:00.000-04:00

earth set the stage today
and in her scene she mocks me
all her beauty is darkness
and she shows it only to me
the leaves are dying
deep shades of red and yellow
falling to the ground
and i could fall with them
and lay on this ground
and let the snow cover me
and disappear forever
and the wind is screaming at me
laughing at the strength i use to stand
it brings water to my eyes
eyes that i have tried hard to keep dry
eyes that are already red from my failure
and the sky is black oil
swirling like the motion
in the pit of my stomach
and then rain comes teeming down
and i am soaked
and my clothes hang off me
and pull me to the ground
like everything else inside
and the worst of it is
when i hurt like this
her gravity pulls me
and i want to fall at her feet
and i can't help but see
that her darkness is beauty

to j one through five

2005-11-08T01:26:00.000-04:00

shake me up some more.
i am so much more than what you think i am,
i could be your something,
i would do that for you;
but I'd as easily turn against you.
and i could be cold.

i'd watch him chop that baby in half,
and i'd take my spoils,
carry them high above my head
for all to see

i can still feel the pressure of you.
it doesn't reminds me of devotion,
but leaves me exposed.
i'm so vulnerable,
i've just started breathing.

there is so much i've lost to this,
and i'd give anything,
to just be stronger,
or at the very least uncaring.

The Athiest

2005-11-07T07:23:00.000-04:00

I dreamt that I killed God,
The blood of the world on my hands,
With thirsty eyes I yearned for more,
So I told the world that God was dead,
And I paraded his body,
Through the cobblestone streets,
And I ate up their sorrow,
As I threw Him towards the ground,
My belly full and my soul at ease,
I killed their faith and I broke their hearts,
This world gone mad, obsessed,
With meaning and purpose,
And with my bloodied sword,
I drove through the heart of everything,
Emptied the world of it all,
And laughed over the bones of my enemy,
I rode through the countryside,
Their tears were my victory,
Noone could stop me, I killed God,
With reason as my only weapon,
And I stopped to look what I had done,
The black cloud above it all,
They're all as empty as I am now,
They're all as empty as I am now.

Unrequited

2005-11-07T07:05:00.000-04:00

You're what you say you are,
Only as long as you can hold,
Yourself in place for one more day,
Supress those feelings, baby,
They aren't you are they?
You're not a whore, you don't do that,
Yet you're fighting it right now,
The idea of the motel, and the whiskey,
And someone you'll never meet again,
Or someone you'll see tomorrow,
He's just a friend but it's been more than that,
And shit, it ain't love, and that's reason,
To just walk away and keep the dream,
That it could be love, someday,
This is all we were given, all we've got,
It doesn't quite measure up if,
You keep those foolish expectations,
That there's only one reason to fall,
So that you can fall together,
Anything less isn't worth the time,
Maybe just maybe,
You're wrong and that's why you're sad,
And that hole just doesn't fill,
You never considered the possibilities,
Outside of the fairy tale,
And I just hope you think hard,
So you don't find yourelf on my door,
Only to find I'm in some one horse town,
In Michigan, or Saskatchewan,
And you missed out,
See you preach Better to Love and Lose,
Than never to love at all,
But tell me, baby, how many times,
Did you love when it wasn't even a risk,
It was a reality that it was going to end,
And you were going to sleep alone,
That's love baby, that's love,
Love's about knowing you're going to lose,
And playing with a smile on your face,
Because you know you've already won.

from the fetal position

2005-11-05T23:11:00.000-04:00

staying quiet
hushed
in my hideout
the black corner
smothering the noises
in whatever i can
so that they can't hear me
they are so light
they are color
and i can't breath
i can't be
until they have left
and i can go
and the rooms can all be dark
and everything can be grey
and i will be safe in that world
but not in their world
in their world i am raw and pink and vulnerable
and i can't be any more raw right now
i am rubbed to the bone
so i have to be quiet
for however long it takes
for the rooms to return to the dark where i live

thank you

2005-11-04T17:22:00.000-04:00

thank you for telling him that you thought i was cute.

thank you for the picture of the cow.

thank you for writing notes with me.

thank you for laughter.

thank you for touch.

thank you for the respect you gave me,

before i even knew to ask for it.

thank you for talking to me,

when i knew you only as the quiet blond guy in the library.

thank you for holding my hand.

thank you for holding my head.

thank you for not minding when i got tears all over your t-shirt,

and not judging when i ugly cried.

thank you for filling the gaps

when i felt void of love.

thank you for not pulling away

when i press my cold feet up against your warm legs in bed.

thank you for being an asshole

in ways that you know i think are funny.

thank you for the determination

to continue to make me smile.

thank you for taping my favorite shows.

thank you for spontaneous presents.

thank you for taking care of me

just because you think i might like it.

thank you for being there.

thank you for lasting.

thank you for not walking out

where he would have walked out.

thank you for not being afraid

where everyone else would have been afraid.

thank you for loving every me i have ever been

and for giving me the feeling

that you will love whatever versions of me might need loving

whenever they might need loving.

thank you for six years today

and for six years and a day tomorrow.

2005-11-03T17:05:00.000-04:00

Wake up Dad, we need to talk.

It's not so hard to believe you left all for me.
It's not so hard to believe I'm everything I need.
You lived your life for you, so I could build my life for me.

And I may not love you,
I may not respect you,
'cause before I knew you, I knew you were wrong.

You're a list of actions, not a voice and a face.
It can't be my fault, it's how I was raised.

Adulterer and coward,
Or a man owned by freedom.
If I understand your actions I am too scared to repeat them.

But if I love me, then I can't think ill of your actions.

What good is a guiding hand,
I've got hands of my own.
I do not regret the ways I have grown.

And when I have a son, I will let him alone.
And I'll cry when he hates me as I force him to grow.

Thoughts

2005-11-03T16:54:00.000-04:00

Alone on a stair,
Thoughts breathe themselves in and out.
No strength to hold breath.

swing into the sunshine

2005-11-02T10:21:00.000-04:00

this morning
tiny warm feelings from all over my body
congregated in my eyes
and i could hardly keep myself from crying
as i walked down the street.
this morning
a million righteous voices
whispered in my ears
to make an ungodly racket,
and my lips turned upward
and spread out as wide as they could
and joined the whispers.
this morning
i have faith in the world
because i know that if there is any good anywhere
then there is a huge amount of collected good everywhere.
this morning
i know there is good anywhere
because there is good right in front of me;
in your eyes,
in your voice,
in your actions,
in your words.
this morning
i know there is good in this world
because we are still standing here.

when it is hard

2005-10-29T21:46:00.000-03:00

if i shut out the world

would you come into my secret room with me

and let me shut the door

and let me eat you up?

when the cat comes to your door,

dead rodent in mouth,

what do you do?

if i laid myself down on your doorstep

and was yours

would you take me in?

i will write a million words.

i will bite my nails

until there is blood coming up at the tips.

tonight, i will do what needs to be done

to live without you.

tonight we do not belong to one another,

and maybe there is never ownership,

and maybe there never will be.

tonight i will not lay myself on your doorstep.

tonight you will not come to my secret room.

tonight we will go to sleep in separate beds

until tomorrow comes.

dance little girl, dance

2005-10-28T00:51:00.000-03:00

i hate you and how good you feel,
how everytime i'm with you it plays out in my head
like the best scene in any movie;
as long as the alcohols helping us out.

but shove us together monday morning
and where's the chemistry then?
and everytime i say i'm never gonna do it again.

i'm afraid to speak,
i might find out you don't remember my name,
and half the fun is dreaming,
it's all you think about.

but the way you walk,
and the indifference in your eyes,
makes me wish that i could be something special.

that when I walked, you'd turn to look
and when I talked, you'd not only listen
but you'd want to know more.

i wish i tasted as good to you straight
as i do to you with your two finger tequila.

the one where i am an angry feminist

2005-10-27T17:16:00.000-03:00

that one in the corner
he hasn’t washed his hair in days
as though his shampoo bottle is on some intensive time out.
maybe he is preparing,
like a miss america contestant,
for some alterna-boy pageant.
and alterna-girl, dancing at the front;
she is wearing long wooly socks that don’t match
and she took up smoking last year
and all the boys in the band trail her around
because she knows what it means to not give a shit.
yeah.
but when the girls at the bar start making out
they all will turn
and the boys will smile
because they won’t get that it’s not for them.
and the girls will gawk in disgust
at the scene being made
because they won’t get that it’s not a scene;
because they won’t get that it’s not for the boys.
and when the boys walk in holding hands
it will be okay
because those boys are gay,
but it is only okay because they are classified as such.
and i would just like to say
fuck them,
but i don’t mean that in the sense they might assume
when i wear a short skirt, or when i show some cleavage.
and that is part of why fuck is only one of the important f words in my life.

Chance is for Fools

2005-10-26T19:18:00.000-03:00

Let's not put this off any longer,
Let's do it now,
Tomorrow might never come,
Tonight's all we've got.

Tell him goodbye,
Tell him you're mine,
Sell your stuff, we'll buy a truck,
And get the hell out of dodge.

You seem content,
With letting things ride,
But I want to cash out,
Play my cards when I can.

There's a spot next to me,
You're the only one to fill,
I'll wander alone,
'Til you're in that seat.

So don't delay,
Don't tell yourself to wait,
It's here, it's now,
It's going away.

You blink, you might miss,
You told me yourself,
There's lots to find here,
So come over and figure it out.

someone else's shadow

2005-10-26T19:06:00.000-03:00

... so this is an old poem.. not my favorite but until I get the ball rolling..

If you've got something stuck in the back of your mind,
I can understand why the tears well up,
whenever I mention that name;
Or why your voice tends
to go hoarse,
whenever we reminisce about the good old days;
from time to time I catch you,
staring off without a particular purpose;
And I wonder,
if it's really an under the weather type day
or if you are simply unable to forget.

the words that aren't spoken

2005-10-26T02:19:00.000-03:00

i want to help you because i know

what it's like to be there

with helpless eyes

in front of such a chaos

and to feel so lost.

so i want to write you a road map.

i want to tell you what to say.

maybe you should just say it;

maybe you should just say that you hate me.

maybe you should agree when i say i am worthless.

maybe you should agree that i don't deserve this.

maybe you should run out of that infinite patience.

but i don't think that would work

because i would know you would be saying it for me

and i don't want you to say anything for me;

i want you to really believe it.

if you knew what was good for you, you would run.

i don't want you to say anything for me.

i don't want you to save anything for me.

i want you to take it and run.

but you'll never know what's good for you;

you'll never run.

and tonight, you'll never know what's good for me,

because tonight, i don't know what's good for me.

and if i knew, i wouldn't tell you

because sometimes i just don't allow myself good.

sometimes i am not good.

sometimes i will never be good, because i don't deserve it.

and sometimes nothing is good.

tonight, i hate myself.

i hate that i won't help you.

i hate that you are still here.

i would hate you leaving.

i would hate a parade and clowns

and children laughing and adorable newborn puppies.

i would hate everything and nothing

but i would save the best hate, the deepest hate, for myself.

and i will make it easy on the ball of hate inside of me,

but i won't make it easy on you.

and you can hate me for that.

i hate myself for that.

i hate myself for everything sometimes.

but if you still love me in the morning

i will love you for it.

What a Curse it is to be the Wisest of Men

2005-10-26T00:38:00.000-03:00

I have all the answers, but you won't listen.
Your faults and insecurities are held so close.

So I say nothing.

A little bit of what you want to hear.
Enough to drop the subject.

I tell you something real.
But your response only shows that you don't understand.

What a curse it is to be the wisest of men.

A Fork in the Road and a Knife in my Chest

2005-10-25T16:02:00.000-03:00

Night cold,
Breath warm,
Long sleeves,
Mitts worn,
Soft eyes,
Rough skin,
Sweet laugh,
Real grin,
Beat walk,
Street crossed,
Door held,
Thanks tossed,
Card laid,
Gaze caught,
Lip bit,
Should not,
Walk home,
Play fight,
Kinda wrong,
Kinda right,
Short words,
Long pause,
Can't won't,
Withdrawls,
And someone forgot to tell me this was a possibility when I believed in love.

in the air

2005-10-25T02:12:00.000-03:00

i can feel the tension in the strings

and now i am just waiting for the dissonance

to resonate with my discontent;

to build up that aching for you in the pit of my stomach.

and she comes in.

she is passion

and the air pushing out of her, so hard and beautiful and full,

is juxtaposed by my suffocation.

soon, love, come to me

press your lips hard against mine

and we will create a space to breath.

Genuine Kind

2005-10-24T13:38:00.000-03:00

I'm not in love,
It's only a game,
I fuck like a star,
And I scream out your name.

But it's not like it's real,
I'm not hoping to fall,
When the morning returns,
It is nothing at all.

To walk right away,
And say my goodbyes,
To watch you with tears,
In those downtrodden eyes.

And I'm not filled with hate,
Or with mean spirit, no,
I just know what's real,
And what is for show.

So if I am blunt,
And way out of line,
It's cause I've learned hurt,
Increases with the time.

It takes to be real,
And not just a mask,
So saying I'll call you,
Is too much to ask.

This life is more lies,
Said to defer pain,
Until we can't see it,
Like tears in the rain.

And I'm not willing,
To lie anymore,
If I say it I mean it,
So you can be sure.

That my feelings are true,
No matter their sort,
I've no time to waste,
This life is so short.

Said the man who's not me,
Who I'd love to find,
One who's real as he is tall,
Who's genuine kind.

See, kind is not nice,
Kindness is true,
And someday I want,
To be kind to you.

I am a Flame

2005-10-23T13:56:00.000-03:00

I decided two things today; I want to write a poem every day for this site and I want to experiment with mediums I am not used to. I picked haiku today:

Pain is like a fire,
There are two fires that burn,
The lit and the flame.

The lit has been hurt,
The pain did not come alone,
It was set ablaze.

The flame set the fire,
It burns by its own accord,
The pain is felt too.

The flame shall be out,
When the lit no longer burns,
No longer feels the pain.

The flame shall burn on,
Should the lit never go dark,
Its fate has been sealed.

The pain that we cause,
Shall cause us eternal pain,
If we are not freed.

Forgiveness is life,
Given back to the damned soul,
They may live once more.

the end of the night

2005-10-22T20:32:00.000-03:00

i lay naked with you

feeling the cool night breeze against my skin

i know that it means you have to go soon

i can feel the sweat evaporate

drop by drop

into the air

and my room will smell like our sex all night

and i can pretend to myself that if the smell lingers

you might still be here too

but it won't work

you won't be here to hold me when i sleep

or to wake me up halfway through the night begging for more

or to kiss me gently in the morning

i see you to the door

Fresh Garden Salad

2005-10-22T13:45:00.000-03:00

Before a flower can bloom,
Produce beauty and wonder,
It must first grow from within,
Take from the world the good,
Resist the bad,
To burst out from inside,
And up through the ground.

Likewise, for a person to bloom,
Produce beauty and wisdom,
They must also grow from within,
Take from the world the good,
Resist the bad,
To explode from within,
Towards the sky and beyond.

As we garden in the spring,
We tend not only to the bulbs,
Or seeds sown sweetly,
We also tend to our souls,
Weeding the things which have,
Sown themselves through time,
Or through means without our control.

For we cannot protect our soil,
From things which want to harm,
We can weed regular, and care often,
And have faith that the bad shall not overcome,
And our soil and soul shall prosper,
Give forth flowers of great beauty,
And all the wonders of the world shall be ours.

Bus from Saskatoon

2005-10-20T15:22:00.000-03:00

How much longer will it be
'Till my future becomes clear to me
I guess it's best I cannot see
Wouldn't trade the world for uncertainty.

Movies get wrapped up so quick, so easy
I'd rather fall hard and have a steady climb to be me.
With love and self respect the bottom is the place to be.
I wont have to cry to feel clean.

If ease is overrated then pain is the goal.

But i know that's not exactly true,
change the world - i'm living to.
Be right, and be followed, virtues be proved
and i'll never slow down, die following through.

-simon x, aug2005