trees
So the tree rustles in the evening, when we stand uneasy before our own childish thoughts: Trees have long thoughts, long-breathing and restful, just as they have longer lives than ours. They are wiser than we are, as long as we do not listen to them. But when we have learned how to listen to trees, then the brevity and the quickness and the childlike hastiness of our thoughts achieve an incomparable joy. Whoever has learned how to listen to trees no longer wants to be a tree. He wants to be nothing except what he is. That is home. That is happiness.
blink and it's over
These are the kind of girls who hang dream catchers above their bed, who eat pomegranates and read old history books for fun. These are the kind of girls who take pictures of their hands with disposable cameras and wallpaper their bathrooms with pretty roses. These girls sketch eyes and mouths and little drawings all over things, they look you right in the eye and almost through you when you speak to them. These girls camp out in their backyards for fun, they light candles everywhere, and if you visit them at home they usually have all sorts of animals. Their wardrobes are filled with silk robes and bows and hats, they drink tall glasses of milk and snack on chocolate while they watch the sun rise. These are the kind of girls who ride bikes through the city to the cinema that plays old movies in the middle of the day. They watch "Breakfast at Tiffany's" and "Rosemary's Baby". These are the kind of girls who are quiet in public. They were the kind of girls who put too many marshmallows in their hot chocolate and when the sun goes down, they light the fire and pretend to be in the North Pole. They would water colour things they couldn't see, and eat French toast for lunch. These girls were the kind of girls who always believed in unicorns, they believed in the power of love and dreams. They were the kind of girls who gazed out of windows at bigger worlds, and rain made them think of faeries and tree houses. In the Summer they read Jane Austen and listened to Fleetwood Mac while sipping cold tomato juice.They told ghost stories under huge floral sheets, candles glowing beneath their faces. The spooky endings made them scream and laugh. They huddled together so they wouldn't get too scared. Every sound outside made them jump
Don't pass me off, don't disregard this effort. I hope you are well, I hope you see the world well tomorrow. I hope your mind blooms as beautifully as I once saw it bloom. I always see your world when you push your bangs gently against my nose. I hope the god you've made up in your head smiles and never doubts ever again. I hope you steal candies to share with me. I hope you walk on sidewalks as consciously as I do. I hope when you ride your bicycle you don't think of me because you should be thinking about bicycling. I hope you hear my hopes. I hope you hear my thoughts and never think less of me. I hope you stop wanting to be anywhere than here, here is the only place I can be. Here is the only place I can have you. I hope we can still share shadows. I hope you light the candles and pour your eyes over pages of books which send you to those places you always want to run to. I hope our pain only lasts as long as the sliver of darkness which vanishes and leaves us the morning dew. I want to live with you in a state of progression so sudden that people call us hypocrites, living a contradiction because what people heard yesterday, we already woke up and moved forward from today. I hope our thoughts become substances and begin to radiate what is within us.
to realize takes real eyes, dear.
You stupid Motherfucker.
Your guilt drips off the counter
like spilled milk gone sour.
It leaks out like a man's strength
over a lifetime.
It hurts when I look at her now.
and it hurts when I don’t.
She was what warmed me up inside,
and is so often still what tears me apart.
You were smarter than I thought
so many people waiting for you to show
and so many disappointed that you didn't.
But I know it's a small city, man,
it's a tiny scene.
Now a broken heart
is left waiting in the corner of our room
between the yellowed pages of twice read novels
and forgotten socks
to be sewn back together,
everytime a little weaker than the last,
again and
again.
I lack the weakness to give up,
I lack the strength to walk away.
Your guilt drips off the counter
like spilled milk gone sour.
It leaks out like a man's strength
over a lifetime.
It hurts when I look at her now.
and it hurts when I don’t.
She was what warmed me up inside,
and is so often still what tears me apart.
You were smarter than I thought
so many people waiting for you to show
and so many disappointed that you didn't.
But I know it's a small city, man,
it's a tiny scene.
Now a broken heart
is left waiting in the corner of our room
between the yellowed pages of twice read novels
and forgotten socks
to be sewn back together,
everytime a little weaker than the last,
again and
again.
I lack the weakness to give up,
I lack the strength to walk away.
nothing
I thought about something,
I wrote,
I napped
and dreamed something too,
and with all that something,
I still have nothing
because so much of something
has always been
and always will be you.
How much of your something
am I?
I wrote,
I napped
and dreamed something too,
and with all that something,
I still have nothing
because so much of something
has always been
and always will be you.
How much of your something
am I?
Lewis
"The two hemispheres of my mind were in sharpest contrast.
On one side a many-islanded sea of poetry and myth;
on the other a glib and shallow rationalism.
Nearly all that I loved
I believed to be imaginary;
nearly all I believed to be real
I thought grim and meaningless."
-C. S. Lewis
On one side a many-islanded sea of poetry and myth;
on the other a glib and shallow rationalism.
Nearly all that I loved
I believed to be imaginary;
nearly all I believed to be real
I thought grim and meaningless."
-C. S. Lewis
stars will rise again
"Do you think she's wonderful?"
No,
Because so many girls are wonderful
I imagine hundreds of young men
have called their loves wonderful today
and it's only noon.
You couldn't possibly be something
that hundreds of others are.
You're much to uniquely splendid.
I'm afriad to close my eyes
and sleep at night
because I'm afraid of missing out
on something of yours,
a quiet sigh, or a deep breath,
something so beautiful
no single word could describe it
and no novel could recount it.
No,
Because so many girls are wonderful
I imagine hundreds of young men
have called their loves wonderful today
and it's only noon.
You couldn't possibly be something
that hundreds of others are.
You're much to uniquely splendid.
I'm afriad to close my eyes
and sleep at night
because I'm afraid of missing out
on something of yours,
a quiet sigh, or a deep breath,
something so beautiful
no single word could describe it
and no novel could recount it.
peach
sometimes i have entire dreams
about the soft spot near the bottom of your spine
where my palm would fit.
her skin lulls my fingertips to sleep
yours still calms my mind.
about the soft spot near the bottom of your spine
where my palm would fit.
her skin lulls my fingertips to sleep
yours still calms my mind.
misguided ghosts
I would give up an entire lifetime
to be the air in your lungs
in a single breath.
Like the air in mine,
you are the immeasurable substance
that keeps me alive.
to be the air in your lungs
in a single breath.
Like the air in mine,
you are the immeasurable substance
that keeps me alive.
new things
I'm currently in the process of moving to a nice little apartment in West Broadway, my posts will be few and far between for the next week or so, spring will bring new and exciting times!
so young our clothes still didn't fit
I came of age
and no sooner found you
show me the way to shake a thought,
or tell me how I could stop your heart,
just to catch up.
We were the reckless ones
is what I've been told.
I had heard
somewhere that they were stamping
and trampling on you
that's why we carry blades,
you and I and all of us
to do what words never seemed able.
She was working in a topless bar
and I stopped in for a beer
She didn't get along with herself
and wasn't too keen on anyone else,
she said
"Too many parties and too many pals
will break your heart someday,
might as well give up on tomorrow's yesterdays."
Walking next to her
feeling a little like a deep sea diver
lost in space
and as for you
our paths will never cross, too bad
cause I wouldn't be ashamed
to been seen with you anywhere.
Just another circumstance beyound our control
like the t.v.
phone
and news of the world.
Muslims in the streets
burning fires
and bombing our attempts to blossom.
But once again there are still those lovers
lying on the floor
they don't (and shouldn't) see past their fingers
intertwined and locked together
like that odd old toy your grandma had
that we found in the barn
on a day too hot to yell
we didn't need voices anyway
not with lips like yours.
Now we roam the streets
with our group of little ghosts,
abnormals anonymous.
Kids who still drink too much
fuck too loud
and fight too often.
Mingle and yell
with the grace of a corpse
stuck in the surf
after storming those beaches
sixty years ago.
and no sooner found you
show me the way to shake a thought,
or tell me how I could stop your heart,
just to catch up.
We were the reckless ones
is what I've been told.
I had heard
somewhere that they were stamping
and trampling on you
that's why we carry blades,
you and I and all of us
to do what words never seemed able.
She was working in a topless bar
and I stopped in for a beer
She didn't get along with herself
and wasn't too keen on anyone else,
she said
"Too many parties and too many pals
will break your heart someday,
might as well give up on tomorrow's yesterdays."
Walking next to her
feeling a little like a deep sea diver
lost in space
and as for you
our paths will never cross, too bad
cause I wouldn't be ashamed
to been seen with you anywhere.
Just another circumstance beyound our control
like the t.v.
phone
and news of the world.
Muslims in the streets
burning fires
and bombing our attempts to blossom.
But once again there are still those lovers
lying on the floor
they don't (and shouldn't) see past their fingers
intertwined and locked together
like that odd old toy your grandma had
that we found in the barn
on a day too hot to yell
we didn't need voices anyway
not with lips like yours.
Now we roam the streets
with our group of little ghosts,
abnormals anonymous.
Kids who still drink too much
fuck too loud
and fight too often.
Mingle and yell
with the grace of a corpse
stuck in the surf
after storming those beaches
sixty years ago.
procrastination
Instead of dreaming up pretty words
inspired by your pretty face
I have been absorbed
in essay writing
of analysis',
contrastings,
and comparatives.
University has my soul
but I'll get it back.
Not today,
but soon.
inspired by your pretty face
I have been absorbed
in essay writing
of analysis',
contrastings,
and comparatives.
University has my soul
but I'll get it back.
Not today,
but soon.
late nights, bar fights
Although the fragility
of your situation
might feel
nearly heart breaking.
Last night
while I drunkenly
threw beer bottles
at alley walls,
in an attempt to explain
some historical event,
I realized glass bottles
could be suprisingly strong
under pressure.
of your situation
might feel
nearly heart breaking.
Last night
while I drunkenly
threw beer bottles
at alley walls,
in an attempt to explain
some historical event,
I realized glass bottles
could be suprisingly strong
under pressure.
show me the bombing of the moon.
It's weird
I never saw your eyelashes before.
I guess it's more like
I didn't notice them until now,
too much to look at, and to take in,
all at once.
I move to the right,
to the left,
your ears as well.
Always hiding.
Let me see them,
as prominent as the ink buried under your skin.
I always thought you were beyond us
like our cigarette smoke, mixed with fog,
which feels like water but tastes like air,
stuck between here and somewhere else.
Water not yet brave enough to fall.
My mind ponders about the moisture,
and how if I press hard enough
my fingers leave white dots across your breast,
which leads to other thoughts that always escape.
I stare up at the street lamps,
as a strategy to make sure of so many things.
I saw you smile in my periphery,
you saw mine below my nose.
I'd rather glide my fingers across your collarbones
than fuck you from behind.
I'll pull the sheets to our shoulders
and fool ourselves to sleep.
coffee and pie oh my
I worry at times
that I will become that person
who finds monogamy difficult
and love easy.
But there is just
so many types of jam
and jelly,
how do i pick just one?
Good thing
you make
such delicious sandwhiches.
I'll never have to chose.
that I will become that person
who finds monogamy difficult
and love easy.
But there is just
so many types of jam
and jelly,
how do i pick just one?
Good thing
you make
such delicious sandwhiches.
I'll never have to chose.
flora & fauna
I would recommend
we all just give up on spring.
If it comes,
we'll be even happier
and if it doesn't
than we can tell all the others
"I told you so."
We can just sit inside,
and build forts under tables
and in that little nook
down the hall.
We'll drink tea,
and maybe make soup
and stash our cigarette butts
under the floorboards
like when we were kids.
I'll show you those photos of last spring.
Taken in that brief time
between the first humid day
and your mid-summer tan,
when your skin was still
porcelain and bright.
we all just give up on spring.
If it comes,
we'll be even happier
and if it doesn't
than we can tell all the others
"I told you so."
We can just sit inside,
and build forts under tables
and in that little nook
down the hall.
We'll drink tea,
and maybe make soup
and stash our cigarette butts
under the floorboards
like when we were kids.
I'll show you those photos of last spring.
Taken in that brief time
between the first humid day
and your mid-summer tan,
when your skin was still
porcelain and bright.
little one
You're so fine and lovely
doing it up with the ribbons and bows
trying not to wake me
tipping on your toes.
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