| Old Poem |
[Nov. 16th, 2005|12:42 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  touched | ] |
I'm unable to express
what I feel when read
the words you've written that have bled
into the fabric of my being.
An artifice
that can't be touched
animates your vitality.
Your movements are a
foreign language,
and your grace a thing
estranged.
My familiarity wants
no separation.
My sentiments follow like
moths to a flame.
I’m afraid to learn
I'm tripped while dancing;
tripped at attempting
any gesture of talent.
Humbled beyond all humility
to love, honor, and obey.
Strip the last coat of whitewash away.
Throw down the brush.
Forgive our lust.
And trust myself to stay. |
|
|
| In Amsterdam |
[Oct. 26th, 2005|12:06 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  guilty | ] |
The possibility conceived
On cabled streets in Amsterdam,
Crossing from the gutter to the platform,
Looking upon one's faults in daylight,
When they are unavoidable.
Having robbed someone of someone whom she loved,
Having never belonged to this world of love,
On lower ground I leap onto the platform at Austerlitz
Praying this sickness will waste me and leave me innocent. |
|
|
| Word Count Poem |
[Nov. 25th, 2004|06:44 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  amused | ] |
i and the to
a you my?
of in
is your me with?
have for so on that,
but at, was are it
like up
all not where
over. i'm from black
am can this?
when one feel something
as be white
about what, how?
go!
them before know
can't people
been it's nothing
...eyes buy friends
our strength, out
no sleep
there few time
an, or had, please...
which, don't hand those get
do feeling some thinking
her most he.
she, into they
you're hair wearing
find beautiful by looking
why down hours?
other never last
take home
|
|
|
| For Ari |
[Oct. 12th, 2004|11:49 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  drunk | ] |
It's a Mountain Goats song...
“Sensitive Instrument”
Do love me man? Do you really care?
‘Cause need to feel that I need you there
I’m a sensitive case…
Easily broken and not readily displayed
Yeah it’s hard to find...
A long time market for my kind
I know I am fragile, transparently,
Not made of steel…
With a few rough edges
But more or less a well-balanced meal
Oh please won’t you try?
How about a two week free-trial, full refund implied?
Oh please, please buy me
And when you get your fingers across my strings
And you feel like maybe you’re liking this thing
It might even cross you mind
To buy in a well-lined guitar case for my kind
Of sensitive instrument
That just might mean more
Than those Bongo drums that you bought on a whim
Oh won’t you please, please buy me? |
|
|
| Indian Summer |
[Sep. 27th, 2004|09:16 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  mellow | ] |
Morning glories curled against the flaking white paint of a picket fence could not be more perfectly colored
Riding along the ocean in a bikini the golden California sun peers down on me, unforgettable.
Past estuaries and abandoned lots neighbors sun themselves in tortilla chips and guacamole sitting like children in inflatable, plastic pools they’ve constructed the day before. |
|
|
| Five Signature Strengths |
[Sep. 5th, 2004|08:34 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  ecstatic | ] |
Signature Strength for you:
Appreciation of beauty and excellence
You notice and appreciate beauty, excellence, and/or skilled performance in all domains of life, from nature to art to mathematics to science to everyday experience.
Second Strength:
Capacity to love and be loved
You value close relations with others, in particular those in which sharing and caring are reciprocated. The people to whom you feel most close are the same people who feel most close to you.
Third Strength:
Creativity, ingenuity, and originality
Thinking of new ways to do things is a crucial part of who you are. You are never content with doing something the conventional way if a better way is possible.
Fourth Strength:
Curiosity and interest in the world
You are curious about everything. You are always asking questions, and you find all subjects and topics fascinating. You like exploration and discovery.
Fifth Strength:
Fairness, equity, and justice
Treating all people fairly is one of your abiding principles. You do not let your personal feelings bias your decisions about other people. You give everyone a chance. |
|
|
| Old, Short Poems |
[Sep. 4th, 2004|07:12 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  creative | ] |
1.
There you are sitting, your hands on the keys
You have me laughing, you’re playing with ease
Ebony, ivory, black upon white
I watch you sing and I smile at the sight
2.
Walking on water and surfing on air
Tanned he’s caught tossing his sun-ravaged hair
Beautiful arms never lifted before
Lifted me up and walked me ashore
3.
Blessed with a beauty strange to behold
Bones made of eggshells, hair of spun gold
Voracious ambition, sultry and lithe
You are my passion, my love and my life
4.
Your magnetism: my fatal attraction
Expecting your touch to not warrant reaction?
How strangely you doubted; averted your eyes
When I so immeasurably pined in disguise
5.
Graciously welcomed me into your home
Tenderly spoke to me over the phone
Earnestly forged a connection to last
Matchless forever; inspired my past
6.
Poignant, pert nose and Aryan skin
Jealous I am when you’re sitting by him
Beautiful races combine in your blush
Beautiful faces turn me to mush
7.
Zombies on your shirt dream of love
With so much to give you have no one to hug
Complex and difficult, obscured from an end
I smile empathetically at you, my friend
8.
Your face is a memory phantom of trances
Your name is a melody to which my heart dances
My concept of you is something surreal
Elusive, exclusive, untainted appeal
9.
My sweet, little counsel, so pretty and small
So photogenic, so witty and raw
So full of laughter, a tongue in your cheek
You make me a comic whenever I speak
10.
Flashing the diamond and chasing your dreams
Somewhere inside you I know there’s a queen
Kindhearted, wholesome, you’re feeding me bread
God gave me no sister, I have you instead
11.
Handsome and princely you walk on your way
Open your eyes and conquer your day
Exotic, idiotic, I know you can be
Quixotic, erotic, I doubt but we’ll see
12.
The moment I met you, our hands intertwined,
I felt well acquainted in one second’s time
The friendliest character I’ve ever met
Instant affection is hard to forget
13.
Upon your arrival the crowd’s in a roar
I watch your slim figure stride through the door
Your hair is curly but somewhere I’ve seen
This other half of a most precious thing
14.
Beautiful features like molded clay
Briefly you enter but never to stay
Donning a suit you roll up your sleeves
Entertainingly explaining why you must leave
15.
Smokey dark tresses that I adore
Rosy pink dresses have battled the shore
Sweeter than summer, an angel with wings
Why are you playing with dangerous things?
16.
Italian slippers shield your feet
Shirt is unbuttoned, chest hair replete
Gold at the throat validating your vanity
Cartwheel down the hall confirming insanity |
|
|
| Eulogy |
[Sep. 1st, 2004|01:22 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | thoughtful | ] |
The yoke
and the white,
the left
and the right.
Water and wine;
oil and vinegar.
Not the black,
nor the white,
but all of the gray...
between our ears
has kept you at least...
...Three hundred miles away.
Tired, hungry, and frustrated:
You want to sit at the booth farthest from the revolving doors.
You didn't apply to med school and
You can't quit smoking...
But when did you start?
Where are your blue eyes?
Where are your green eyes?
Where is that softness I once saw?
Is it behind you?
Beneath that roughness...
...Presenty facing the revolving doors?
I'm looking for it
in your face.
In your eyes downcast
as they stare into your cup of coffee
Probably thinking, "I'm so bored
Why am I here?" and,
..."What is she looking for?"
Where did I loose you?
(The salt and the pepper?)
Where have you gone to?
(The eggs and toast?)
Where can I find you?
(The napkin holder?)
And on its mirrored surface I find our faces...
distorted.
And I laugh.
And you don't. |
|
|
| Reflection |
[Aug. 31st, 2004|09:18 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | grateful | ] |
I understand what you want. I understand how you feel about me.
And this brings a sense of “everything is all right.” Nothing can touch in me this moment when I have found an end, laid down to rest at last.
I have no thought of what is going to happen to me but in this moment I am filled with peace and optimism. I once felt I was waiting, naively, for you. I was not naïve; I was wise; wiser than I have ever been before to stand patiently, happily, waiting at the gate.
I dreamt that there was nothing mutual between us, nothing equal, and I had been thinking about you the entire time. “I’m always thinking about you,” you said and I was surprised that those words were not my own.
Should I have suffered? What is suffering now when it is over? It can be looked back upon fondly, proudly, as something strengthening, something valuable. I have this trial to thank—I am indebted to my pain.
I knew all this time I had found something genuine, something extraordinary and rare. What a gem! What a gift! What a blessing! How thankful I am for it when nothing else can compare.
I feel so generous. I feel so still. Like nothing should be said to disturb this sacred silence. It is simple; simply that.
I knew I would always have feelings for you. Would they subside? Why would I want these feelings to end? I’ve never been able to think of myself without them. Intrinsically a part of me. |
|
|
| Unleavened Bread |
[May. 17th, 2004|10:50 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  mischievous | ] |
They're not saltines! It's unleavened bread. |
|
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