Grey skies, driven close by
dark clouds unseen,
I see them in the
reflection of her eyes,
flat and smooth, like
a mirror, gazing deeply
into swirling thoughts,
flitting about like
snowflakes on a winter's
morning, deftly avoiding,
the bonfires on the
shoreline, sometimes drenched
with blood, the green grass,
covered in white, but speckled
with little reminders of
the past, along the water,
grasping, cupping embracing,
but still thirsty for more,
praying for the spring,
yet dying in the summer..
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Feb. 21st
It's been an interesting week...a new job, and a new point of view...nothing is certain except surviving...nothing is true, except for my feelings, which seem to be solidifying in uncertain ways...I am at once happy and afraid of what the future holds...confidence is a fickle mistress...hopefully she returns forthwith..
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile
Monday, February 14, 2011
Feb. 14th
Life is a strange and cruel mistress,
like a dying tree, it looks as though
the outside is solid, even while the
interior is but hollow,
But therein lies the riddle trunks can
be fertile,
crystalline in the middle of
inevitable death,
defying all that makes sense,
such is the beauty of
free will, and the strength
to carry on
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile
like a dying tree, it looks as though
the outside is solid, even while the
interior is but hollow,
But therein lies the riddle trunks can
be fertile,
crystalline in the middle of
inevitable death,
defying all that makes sense,
such is the beauty of
free will, and the strength
to carry on
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile
On Valentine's Day
Break through disparate desires,
wade against the stream of time,
search every corner of this
blue jewel, the sea to the sky,
and the barren wastelands of a
splintered heart, to mend the soul
torn and tattered, like an old sail,
no longer replete by her touch,
yet driven, by a fire in the belly,
no quarter given or asked for,
hope springs eternal, like an ancient geyser
cooling sordid sorrow
to quench that thirst,
someone will dance with you again,
and two souls will be bound together,
round and round the flames,
flitting about the ashes, until the two
rise as one,
with no fear of the night,
in each other's arms, softly
dreaming of the dawn again
wade against the stream of time,
search every corner of this
blue jewel, the sea to the sky,
and the barren wastelands of a
splintered heart, to mend the soul
torn and tattered, like an old sail,
no longer replete by her touch,
yet driven, by a fire in the belly,
no quarter given or asked for,
hope springs eternal, like an ancient geyser
cooling sordid sorrow
to quench that thirst,
someone will dance with you again,
and two souls will be bound together,
round and round the flames,
flitting about the ashes, until the two
rise as one,
with no fear of the night,
in each other's arms, softly
dreaming of the dawn again
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Feb. 13th
So a new day, and a new relationship in my life has begun. Her name is Jess, and we have been seeing each other off and on for the last several months, until recently when it has become more and more regular.
I am very happy, and I feel like I have the chance to actually enjoy a healthy relationship with her. After mucking things up so badly in the past with other women, it feels serendipitous this time to be able to share my life with someone so amazing.
On another note, it appears as though I will be employed fairly soon - I've been offered a part-time job as a concierge/valet at a really nice hotel here on Portland called Hotel 50. The tips are supposed to be awesome, even if the wage isn't - so its perfect for me: money coming in, and still plenty of time to write!
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile
Monday, February 7, 2011
Malibu
The cracked old streets
less inviting under the
gray skies,
cold stares inside warm cars
as the wheels turn like
gears in the head
The machine, not well-oiled,
and rusted at the core, still
taking turns, ready to crash,
seemingly against the wind,
as the meshing of humanity
collides like a 10 car
pile-up
Pay attention to the
proles, you engines of the
economy,
Before your streets run
red instead of black
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile
less inviting under the
gray skies,
cold stares inside warm cars
as the wheels turn like
gears in the head
The machine, not well-oiled,
and rusted at the core, still
taking turns, ready to crash,
seemingly against the wind,
as the meshing of humanity
collides like a 10 car
pile-up
Pay attention to the
proles, you engines of the
economy,
Before your streets run
red instead of black
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Red Ribbons
Porcelain fingers, interlocking
seemingly frozen, by the harsh glare
of crystalline fear, the unknown
darkness in the center of the chest,
like some great chasm in the earth,
jagged edges, on a slippery slope,
tearing the flesh, but not the mind,
always on the prowl, lust and greed,
overcome by the fire in her heart,
a vision of desire, golden locks,
dancing in the summer wind, reaching
out to save him from the bottomless
pit, and the monster, the fool with
gaping pleading jaws, lined with
the broken bones of those who
came before, his bleeding hands,
scrambling for hers, porcelain, like sunshine after the monsoon, agleam,
buried eyes, taken from the stars, a gift
learned, baleful, indestructible, love
in the edges of the forest, not on
the edge of a sword, with a reflection
of fate, not sullied by deeds of the
past, rescued from that life again,
he stays the hand, no red ribbons
on the temple, firm as the body,
now placed on a path of riches,
by friendship and golden promise,
true wealth in her eyes, not spun
like wool, but leavened by heartache,
at the end of this dream, she waits
in the night, and they collapse
together, like two great armies,
into arms, not used for pain, but
melded together by soft skin,
down again, to the rising of the
blazing morning,
One more day, one more breath,
one more kiss
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile
seemingly frozen, by the harsh glare
of crystalline fear, the unknown
darkness in the center of the chest,
like some great chasm in the earth,
jagged edges, on a slippery slope,
tearing the flesh, but not the mind,
always on the prowl, lust and greed,
overcome by the fire in her heart,
a vision of desire, golden locks,
dancing in the summer wind, reaching
out to save him from the bottomless
pit, and the monster, the fool with
gaping pleading jaws, lined with
the broken bones of those who
came before, his bleeding hands,
scrambling for hers, porcelain, like sunshine after the monsoon, agleam,
buried eyes, taken from the stars, a gift
learned, baleful, indestructible, love
in the edges of the forest, not on
the edge of a sword, with a reflection
of fate, not sullied by deeds of the
past, rescued from that life again,
he stays the hand, no red ribbons
on the temple, firm as the body,
now placed on a path of riches,
by friendship and golden promise,
true wealth in her eyes, not spun
like wool, but leavened by heartache,
at the end of this dream, she waits
in the night, and they collapse
together, like two great armies,
into arms, not used for pain, but
melded together by soft skin,
down again, to the rising of the
blazing morning,
One more day, one more breath,
one more kiss
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Feb. 2nd
What a strange day, or even week for that matter. I went to an advance screening of this god awful movie "Sanctum". Luckily for me it was free and completely ridiculous, bringing about much snickering and giggling from my cohorts from Yelp Anna B. and Ana M. I attempted to inspire sarcastic applause at the end of the movie, but to no avail - I guess it really was that damn bad!
Beyond that, I've been working on simply being happy while remaining single. It's not easy when you're an old man like me (35) but it isn't half-bad for the most part - even when you see your ex with someone else like I did at the movie. I can't lie and say that I do not miss that person somewhat, but then I go back to thinking just how much we used to fight, and how unhappy we both were overall, despite the good times, and how happy I am right now to get a second chance with someone else - whoever that person ends up being, it won't be rushed.
Have some really good ideas for a short novel right now - I've even begun to write character sketches for them. More to come on that, as I decide to get more organized! Go Packers!!!!
Beyond that, I've been working on simply being happy while remaining single. It's not easy when you're an old man like me (35) but it isn't half-bad for the most part - even when you see your ex with someone else like I did at the movie. I can't lie and say that I do not miss that person somewhat, but then I go back to thinking just how much we used to fight, and how unhappy we both were overall, despite the good times, and how happy I am right now to get a second chance with someone else - whoever that person ends up being, it won't be rushed.
Have some really good ideas for a short novel right now - I've even begun to write character sketches for them. More to come on that, as I decide to get more organized! Go Packers!!!!
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Those Holy Bones!
Those holy bones!
Bleached in fiery holes,
drenched in days of old,
like a bee in a rose,
they deal a deadly blow!
Bleached in fiery holes,
drenched in days of old,
like a bee in a rose,
they deal a deadly blow!
Those holy bones!
Bleached in fiery holes,
made anew, into a flute,
like the hymnal scales,
into the fire you'll go!
Those holy bones!
Bleached in fiery holes,
knitted together, bile and leather
like bread in the oven,
your soul will surely glow!
Those holy bones!
Bleached in fiery holes,
In the drum lines they roll
like birds of a feather,
in the ancient hippo-drome
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile
The Vagrant
The bedraggled wanderer, raised on the
old roads, at home under the trees, gaunt branches
and ashy moon, in the darkness of the night,
the stars aligned to conspire against fate,
in perfect harmony, the wind whispers of
love lost, in the wars when Ares danced
with glee upon the shoulders of warriors and angels,
The itinerant soul, still not gray
broken down by the falsehoods of men,
and the swill of the tavern's lust,
longing for the day when he could
gently take her in his arms again,
under the midnight sun, in the north,
far away into the wispy clouds, on top
of blue mountains, and green forests,
until the world appeared to be nothing but
and ember in the fire of the mind's eye, then
reunited, to a homestead in the delicate
tendrils of the Milky Way
And the city-states will crumble away, the
myriad towns and villages choked
with the vines and weeds of the
Mother's rage, against the madness of time
two colors coiled to become one,
and the sun will rise on a whim,
The bedraggled vagrant will awaken to swaying
of the ancient trees, no longer safe in the
black cloak of sleep,
only to walk the same path again
old roads, at home under the trees, gaunt branches
and ashy moon, in the darkness of the night,
the stars aligned to conspire against fate,
in perfect harmony, the wind whispers of
love lost, in the wars when Ares danced
with glee upon the shoulders of warriors and angels,
The itinerant soul, still not gray
broken down by the falsehoods of men,
and the swill of the tavern's lust,
longing for the day when he could
gently take her in his arms again,
under the midnight sun, in the north,
far away into the wispy clouds, on top
of blue mountains, and green forests,
until the world appeared to be nothing but
and ember in the fire of the mind's eye, then
reunited, to a homestead in the delicate
tendrils of the Milky Way
And the city-states will crumble away, the
myriad towns and villages choked
with the vines and weeds of the
Mother's rage, against the madness of time
two colors coiled to become one,
and the sun will rise on a whim,
The bedraggled vagrant will awaken to swaying
of the ancient trees, no longer safe in the
black cloak of sleep,
only to walk the same path again
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)