Tuesday, November 18, 2008
tiresome lack of variety
reciting monotone
dull
perpetual stagnation
in my heart
death finds life.
life culminates in death.
Shouting - Screaming
Crying - Moaning
Gripping - Grasping
holding on to fragments
remnants.....
threads......
dull
perpetual stagnation
in my heart
death finds life.
life culminates in death.
Shouting - Screaming
Crying - Moaning
Gripping - Grasping
holding on to fragments
remnants.....
threads......
Spring
Envy the mystery
and fascination
of youth
New ideas; innocently
creating
strange new beginnings
No fear of ideas; without guilt
conceiving
sudden dark endings
Marvel at the
feelings that life
conjures
magical - perpetual
naive
REALITY
and fascination
of youth
New ideas; innocently
creating
strange new beginnings
No fear of ideas; without guilt
conceiving
sudden dark endings
Marvel at the
feelings that life
conjures
magical - perpetual
naive
REALITY
Jejune
Profess Poetry
Hideous Horrible
Ideas; Ideals
Scare Screaming
Certainty Creates
Boredom.
Innocuous Instants
Meaningless Mind
Knowledge
Drops Darkness
Firmly Finding
Nightmares
Hideous Horrible
Ideas; Ideals
Scare Screaming
Certainty Creates
Boredom.
Innocuous Instants
Meaningless Mind
Knowledge
Drops Darkness
Firmly Finding
Nightmares
Monday, November 17, 2008
Words
Standing naked
warm water
washes
over
me
Closing my eyes
wicked whispers
wash
over
me
Finding myself
wondering who
Who is washing over me?
No name
No voice
No face
only words
wash
over
me
His words wash over me.
Fill me
Find me
Feel me
Finding myself
wonder how
How are words washing over me?
No name
No face
No Voice
only words
wash
over
me
His words wash over me.
Frighten me
Fix me
Fuck me
Standing naked
warm water
washes
over
me
Closing my eyes
willfully wishing
Are his words for me?
warm water
washes
over
me
Closing my eyes
wicked whispers
wash
over
me
Finding myself
wondering who
Who is washing over me?
No name
No voice
No face
only words
wash
over
me
His words wash over me.
Fill me
Find me
Feel me
Finding myself
wonder how
How are words washing over me?
No name
No face
No Voice
only words
wash
over
me
His words wash over me.
Frighten me
Fix me
Fuck me
Standing naked
warm water
washes
over
me
Closing my eyes
willfully wishing
Are his words for me?
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Inhabitant
Actions
With no consequences?
Not thinking
-Deliberately-
Not thinking
Birds and the Bees.
Reality.
Not trying.
Not – Not trying.
Caught up
And
Swept away.
I know how this
All will end.
The same way
That I began.
LIFE CREATED
My dark hair
Your ocean eyes
Girl of Boy??
A question that
-cannot-
-will not-
Ever be answered.
I chose for me
I chose for you
I chose
A choice that has no
Easy answer.
A choice I never
Wanted to make…
Again.
I see what was us in your eyes.
With no consequences?
Not thinking
-Deliberately-
Not thinking
Birds and the Bees.
Reality.
Not trying.
Not – Not trying.
Caught up
And
Swept away.
I know how this
All will end.
The same way
That I began.
LIFE CREATED
My dark hair
Your ocean eyes
Girl of Boy??
A question that
-cannot-
-will not-
Ever be answered.
I chose for me
I chose for you
I chose
A choice that has no
Easy answer.
A choice I never
Wanted to make…
Again.
I see what was us in your eyes.
Nonexistent
The first line.
The first sentence.
The first thought in a moment.
To be Real. Delusions.
Softness falls in the darkest moments. Harsh lights blinding and creating shadows.
Myself; My pen creates illusions.
Dancing across white pages, which are just dreams of something.
The first line is meant to be brilliant.
Grabbing a hold of your reader.
Pulling them in.
Making them want to turn the page. Reaching and grasping for More. More than this life has to offer. Reality cannot offer the hope and desire of the first thought.
Gasping air and coming into existence.
Heart beating. Slapping exhilaration. Leaving the darkness. The wetness of the womb.
Creation.
Where life begins.
Hour after Hour is all we have from that moment. It is those hours between screaming moaning groaning living. And screaming moaning groaning dying. The last line.
The last line is the one that you remember. You have long forgotten the first line.
The line that pulled you in.
Made you want – More!
Now gone.
All that is left is that final line.
That final moment.
Last word.
Last thought.
Last breath.
Penetrating your desire to continue on. Looking for more. I love you!
Starting line.
Ending line.
Enduring.
How to give the story value How to give value to A life. Someone must die!
In order to make this life? This moment. Pen across paper. Creation. Make it more real. Someone in the story must die. Pull you in with that first line. Keep you interested with the illusion of love. Let you go in the moment of death. And make you never forget with the last line….
It has to be resolved! All within the pages.
The curling, looping lines of pen.
The tiny marking of the print. Black lines. Configurations of reality. All meaningless lines. The sounds of life already lived and not ever real. Reality.
Unreal
Not real
Made to believe that it is real.
Feel the feeling of an nonexistent moment. Abandonment. Pleasure. Emotions.
Harsh and unbending. Make them feel that it moves!
When it remains unmoved! It does not exist. What you have read, felt, heard, tasted, believed is unreal. It will end. Make your way across time; when time does not move.
Does not exist.
Regret something that has not happened. What you bare.
Bare to all.
Open you mind. Choice. Life.
Does not move. Exists on a separate plain. Choice. Life. Death. Breathe. Feel.
Always gone and out of grasp. Out of reach.
Make someone feel what does not exist. What does not move.
The mind moves and can create a different place. A different reality. A different emotion. A different desire. Feel the softness around you. Feather pillow. Feather bed. Feather weight.
Softly falling to the earth beside you. The only thing that will continue after the first line, the love, the death and the final line. The earth.
We believe will continue after we are gone.
But, perhaps, only exists because we are here. Maybe, this time. This life. This moment is all that there is.
Maybe, after the final line, there is only darkness?
But when darkness falls it is something where there should only be nothing.
Void.
Darkness is something. It implies that there was something LIGHT.
And if there is no light it can never be dark.
Define something by what it is not.
Define the first line by the last line and forget all that fell in between. Is my reality your dream? Or is my dream you reality?
If I can dream that first line into existence can you create its ending point?
If there are possibilities can there ever be anything new that is created or destroyed. The possibilities existed long before we realized.
An idea.
Move you to another idea.
Every idea is found.
Grasped.
Now that I felt the feather weight against my skin can I hear the sounds around me?
If I cannot hear them are the really happening?
Clatter.
High pitched.
Growling.
Grumbling.
Sound of movement outside my sight.
Out of me.
Is that sound more real than the one inside of me?
Screaming inside my head.
Whispering the first line.
Unheard. But felt. Creates movement. Arm. Hand. Squeezing pen moving across page.
The sound that only I can hear creates the sound of pages turning. Soft scratching of my pen on paper. Creating lines that mean nothing and yet everything to my eyes. Eyes that see light.
Harsh.
Blinding.
Creates shadows from hand onto the page. The page that does not exist to anyone but me. In this moment my scratching moving hands mean nothing to anyone but me. And yet because of the meaning that I see does it exist in reality or only to me. In this moment alone.
Naked.
Shaking.
Bleeding.
I exist to no one but me. And if I cease to exist in this moment will I continue to exist in the minds of those who remember?
Or will the minds of those who remember cease to exist because my existence ended with Me?
The final line.
The final thought.
The final moment.
Creates a new first line. Every story that has and ending must have a beginning. And where did this story begin?
In a field.
Empty.
Until the white tiny flowers were dreamt into reality. Field stretching past our line of sight. Green grass grasping at our newly formed legs. Moving in the breeze that was created by a breath across time.
The wind.
Warm and slow moving up our naked legs. Surrounding us. Lightly we feel the flowers. Softly moving in the wind. I tremble and then I forget the first line.
Which is now the last line.
Falling out of that fantasy we die. And yet I breathe and my pen continues to create.
A new first line.
When the memory of the last has not yet faded from my mind.
My eyes have a new reality.
I now remember the wind that only existed inside of me.
The movement that only I knew yet in my mind you felt. Can you feel the wind and the movement that my mind created? And that you existed within.
For that fleeting moment in the wind you were real and inside of me. And when we see each other again in our reality will that moment be any less real to me than this one?
Can anything ever be more real than the first line inside of our minds?
Can anything be more bittersweet than the last line, when we part, inside of me?
Searching my mind; can I find something to fill the hours between when my life began and when it will end?
Creating.
Is the world that I create with pen and paper less real to me than the life that I live outside of me?
When you lay in bed each night and dream of things you have never seen and times that you will never know is that dream of a lesser value than the moments you see when your eyes are open?
When you dream you believe it to be reality.
How do you know that it is not?
How do you know that your waking moments are not the dreams of someone else?
Their first line is your eyes opening. Finding daylight. Their last line is your eyes closing to dream their reality.
The first sentence.
The first thought in a moment.
To be Real. Delusions.
Softness falls in the darkest moments. Harsh lights blinding and creating shadows.
Myself; My pen creates illusions.
Dancing across white pages, which are just dreams of something.
The first line is meant to be brilliant.
Grabbing a hold of your reader.
Pulling them in.
Making them want to turn the page. Reaching and grasping for More. More than this life has to offer. Reality cannot offer the hope and desire of the first thought.
Gasping air and coming into existence.
Heart beating. Slapping exhilaration. Leaving the darkness. The wetness of the womb.
Creation.
Where life begins.
Hour after Hour is all we have from that moment. It is those hours between screaming moaning groaning living. And screaming moaning groaning dying. The last line.
The last line is the one that you remember. You have long forgotten the first line.
The line that pulled you in.
Made you want – More!
Now gone.
All that is left is that final line.
That final moment.
Last word.
Last thought.
Last breath.
Penetrating your desire to continue on. Looking for more. I love you!
Starting line.
Ending line.
Enduring.
How to give the story value How to give value to A life. Someone must die!
In order to make this life? This moment. Pen across paper. Creation. Make it more real. Someone in the story must die. Pull you in with that first line. Keep you interested with the illusion of love. Let you go in the moment of death. And make you never forget with the last line….
It has to be resolved! All within the pages.
The curling, looping lines of pen.
The tiny marking of the print. Black lines. Configurations of reality. All meaningless lines. The sounds of life already lived and not ever real. Reality.
Unreal
Not real
Made to believe that it is real.
Feel the feeling of an nonexistent moment. Abandonment. Pleasure. Emotions.
Harsh and unbending. Make them feel that it moves!
When it remains unmoved! It does not exist. What you have read, felt, heard, tasted, believed is unreal. It will end. Make your way across time; when time does not move.
Does not exist.
Regret something that has not happened. What you bare.
Bare to all.
Open you mind. Choice. Life.
Does not move. Exists on a separate plain. Choice. Life. Death. Breathe. Feel.
Always gone and out of grasp. Out of reach.
Make someone feel what does not exist. What does not move.
The mind moves and can create a different place. A different reality. A different emotion. A different desire. Feel the softness around you. Feather pillow. Feather bed. Feather weight.
Softly falling to the earth beside you. The only thing that will continue after the first line, the love, the death and the final line. The earth.
We believe will continue after we are gone.
But, perhaps, only exists because we are here. Maybe, this time. This life. This moment is all that there is.
Maybe, after the final line, there is only darkness?
But when darkness falls it is something where there should only be nothing.
Void.
Darkness is something. It implies that there was something LIGHT.
And if there is no light it can never be dark.
Define something by what it is not.
Define the first line by the last line and forget all that fell in between. Is my reality your dream? Or is my dream you reality?
If I can dream that first line into existence can you create its ending point?
If there are possibilities can there ever be anything new that is created or destroyed. The possibilities existed long before we realized.
An idea.
Move you to another idea.
Every idea is found.
Grasped.
Now that I felt the feather weight against my skin can I hear the sounds around me?
If I cannot hear them are the really happening?
Clatter.
High pitched.
Growling.
Grumbling.
Sound of movement outside my sight.
Out of me.
Is that sound more real than the one inside of me?
Screaming inside my head.
Whispering the first line.
Unheard. But felt. Creates movement. Arm. Hand. Squeezing pen moving across page.
The sound that only I can hear creates the sound of pages turning. Soft scratching of my pen on paper. Creating lines that mean nothing and yet everything to my eyes. Eyes that see light.
Harsh.
Blinding.
Creates shadows from hand onto the page. The page that does not exist to anyone but me. In this moment my scratching moving hands mean nothing to anyone but me. And yet because of the meaning that I see does it exist in reality or only to me. In this moment alone.
Naked.
Shaking.
Bleeding.
I exist to no one but me. And if I cease to exist in this moment will I continue to exist in the minds of those who remember?
Or will the minds of those who remember cease to exist because my existence ended with Me?
The final line.
The final thought.
The final moment.
Creates a new first line. Every story that has and ending must have a beginning. And where did this story begin?
In a field.
Empty.
Until the white tiny flowers were dreamt into reality. Field stretching past our line of sight. Green grass grasping at our newly formed legs. Moving in the breeze that was created by a breath across time.
The wind.
Warm and slow moving up our naked legs. Surrounding us. Lightly we feel the flowers. Softly moving in the wind. I tremble and then I forget the first line.
Which is now the last line.
Falling out of that fantasy we die. And yet I breathe and my pen continues to create.
A new first line.
When the memory of the last has not yet faded from my mind.
My eyes have a new reality.
I now remember the wind that only existed inside of me.
The movement that only I knew yet in my mind you felt. Can you feel the wind and the movement that my mind created? And that you existed within.
For that fleeting moment in the wind you were real and inside of me. And when we see each other again in our reality will that moment be any less real to me than this one?
Can anything ever be more real than the first line inside of our minds?
Can anything be more bittersweet than the last line, when we part, inside of me?
Searching my mind; can I find something to fill the hours between when my life began and when it will end?
Creating.
Is the world that I create with pen and paper less real to me than the life that I live outside of me?
When you lay in bed each night and dream of things you have never seen and times that you will never know is that dream of a lesser value than the moments you see when your eyes are open?
When you dream you believe it to be reality.
How do you know that it is not?
How do you know that your waking moments are not the dreams of someone else?
Their first line is your eyes opening. Finding daylight. Their last line is your eyes closing to dream their reality.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Nietzsche
"Faith: not wanting to know what is true."
"And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you."
"Blessed are the forgetful: for they get the better even of their blunders."
"And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you."
"Blessed are the forgetful: for they get the better even of their blunders."
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Monday, November 10, 2008
Sunday, November 09, 2008
Shadow
Flowery - Prophetic
Prose
Spoken - Under
complete secrecy.
Promises, Forgotten
whispers - into
the world
of daylight.
Shadowy - Secrets
hidden under
the veil
of darkness.
Hands searching -
seeking
The elusive meaning
of life.
Love Stolen
Love Remembered
Love Lost
And
Found - Again
each night.
Prose
Spoken - Under
complete secrecy.
Promises, Forgotten
whispers - into
the world
of daylight.
Shadowy - Secrets
hidden under
the veil
of darkness.
Hands searching -
seeking
The elusive meaning
of life.
Love Stolen
Love Remembered
Love Lost
And
Found - Again
each night.
Friday, March 07, 2008
Aeni
"Fall fast asleep and dream with me
Whisper "I love you, I'm here to stay"
For when we wake in each other's arms
It will be a brand new day"
Whisper "I love you, I'm here to stay"
For when we wake in each other's arms
It will be a brand new day"
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Just a Kiss
Both wanting
And
Yet
not knowing
Within arms reach
And
Still so far away
Until you
reach
Out to me
My eyes down
Gaze averted
Your hand
Gently
Oh so gently
Touches my belt
Fingers grazing
My skin
You pull me
Into you
More a gesture
Than a
Demand
As much me
Moving
As you directing
I melt
Into you
I disappear
Into
your
Embrace
I fade.
No longer thinking
Barely breathing
Room spinning
My head
Tucked into
Your neck
My arms
Loosely wrapped
Around you
Your arms
Encircling
My waist
Your hands
Lightly caressing
My lower back
And into your
Eyes…
I look
You simply
Whisper
“More?”
My eyes
Must have
Answered you
My eyes
Must have
Told you
My eyes
Must have
Whispered
“Yes”
Your lips
Softly
Touching mine
Not yet a kiss
More like a dream
And,Your lips move
Asking all the questions
We are unable to
Say
And, My lips respond
Your body
Shaking
Trembling
Pulling
Me
Into
You
My body
Paralyzed
Quivering
Pulling
You
Into
Me
A Kiss.
Softly
Slowly
Sweetly
Questioning me?
Questioning you?
Our eyes flutter
Gazes no longer
Averted
My soul escapes
Finding yours.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Crazy
Crashing
Crazy
Pitiful
Pain
All – Consuming
Burning Desire
Yearning – Aching
Looking Back
Wanting You
Looking Forward
Wanting……
I Never Knew
I Have Always Known
A Pain
So Substantial
So Real
Tangible
I Can Taste
Bitter
Acid
Bile
You!
Every Exhale
You Leave Me
Every Inhale
I Bring You Back
I Am Not Yours
And
You Are Not Mine
I Would Have
Loved You
Forever
I Never
Would Have
Left You
I Loved
All
Of You
Your Flaws
And
Imperfections
Made Me Love
You
More!
But You Hid
Tried to Deceive
Lied.
Broken Trust
Broken Heart
Broken Soul
Mending
The
Unmendable
What Should
Never Have Been
Broken
Cannot Be Undone
Cannot Be Forgotten
WHY?
WHY?
WHY?
Did You Cut Me Out
Of Your Life?
Of Your Heart?
I Wanted To Remain
There
Always!
Inside of You
Inside of Me
Inside of Us
If I Try Hard Enough
If I Cry Hard Enough
Can I Cut You
Out Of ME?
Can I Do
What You Did
So Easily
Crazy
Pitiful
Pain
All – Consuming
Burning Desire
Yearning – Aching
Looking Back
Wanting You
Looking Forward
Wanting……
I Never Knew
I Have Always Known
A Pain
So Substantial
So Real
Tangible
I Can Taste
Bitter
Acid
Bile
You!
Every Exhale
You Leave Me
Every Inhale
I Bring You Back
I Am Not Yours
And
You Are Not Mine
I Would Have
Loved You
Forever
I Never
Would Have
Left You
I Loved
All
Of You
Your Flaws
And
Imperfections
Made Me Love
You
More!
But You Hid
Tried to Deceive
Lied.
Broken Trust
Broken Heart
Broken Soul
Mending
The
Unmendable
What Should
Never Have Been
Broken
Cannot Be Undone
Cannot Be Forgotten
WHY?
WHY?
WHY?
Did You Cut Me Out
Of Your Life?
Of Your Heart?
I Wanted To Remain
There
Always!
Inside of You
Inside of Me
Inside of Us
If I Try Hard Enough
If I Cry Hard Enough
Can I Cut You
Out Of ME?
Can I Do
What You Did
So Easily
Friday, December 07, 2007
Thursday, August 09, 2007
Regret
When he says
"I'm Yours"
When he says
"Forget"
When he says
"I'm Happy"
When he says
"No Regret"
I hear him. I live him ~ but I do not know him
His lies change it all
"yours" equals "hers"
"forget" says "remember"
"happy" means "sad"
and regret is forever
"I'm Yours"
When he says
"Forget"
When he says
"I'm Happy"
When he says
"No Regret"
I hear him. I live him ~ but I do not know him
His lies change it all
"yours" equals "hers"
"forget" says "remember"
"happy" means "sad"
and regret is forever
Friday, June 29, 2007
Monday, February 19, 2007
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Passion?
When does Passion fade?
Why does Passion leave?
Not always bound to go!
Can be surprisingly swift!
Inconvenient Love.
Demanding attention
and
Time
When no time or attention can be given.
Given anyway.
When Passion Soars.
Why does Passion leave?
Not always bound to go!
Can be surprisingly swift!
Inconvenient Love.
Demanding attention
and
Time
When no time or attention can be given.
Given anyway.
When Passion Soars.
And,
Time tells no Lies.
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Isolation
"Existentialism - a philosophy that emphasizes the uniqueness and isolation of the individual in a hostile or indifferent universe and stresses freedom of choice and responsibility for the consequences of one's actions."
Pleasure and Pain
entwined
I must forgive
in my lust
to love
Die Without Fear?
Die Without Fear!
Enter my grave with
a smile on my face
I will, must, flee
this earth, this life
in order to find liberty.
Inspiring
Loathsome
Rage
Imploring
MY
Deceitful
Devil
within
I aspire to delay
the decay
of this moment.
DEFIANTLY
SEEKING
Pleasure and Pain
entwined
I must forgive
in my lust
to love
Die Without Fear?
Die Without Fear!
Enter my grave with
a smile on my face
I will, must, flee
this earth, this life
in order to find liberty.
Inspiring
Loathsome
Rage
Imploring
MY
Deceitful
Devil
within
I aspire to delay
the decay
of this moment.
DEFIANTLY
SEEKING
DISTINCTION
Remember me, please!
I ascend
transcend
this world, this life, this body
Think of me, please!
I am confined to this time
this world, this life, this body
unable to grow
I pursue
more
than this!
MORE THAN THIS!!
Never ending circles
of meaningless
life.
Do not pity me.
Pity you.
We have choice.
Remember me, please!
I ascend
transcend
this world, this life, this body
Think of me, please!
I am confined to this time
this world, this life, this body
unable to grow
I pursue
more
than this!
MORE THAN THIS!!
Never ending circles
of meaningless
life.
Do not pity me.
Pity you.
We have choice.
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
Eternal
Heavy Heart
Aching Pain
Joyless Joy
Deep, Pure
and
True
Find Strength
In The Gift
Forever
Find Hope
In The Knowledge
Eternal
Mind
Heart
Body
Soul
Time Eternal
Flame Of Life
Grasp Wisdom
Seek Freedom
Unloosen The Chains
That Bind
Constrict
Cut
Life Is Fleeting
Moments Gone
Passing Time In
The Eye Of
The Storm
My ONLY Certainty
Is Death Comes
Slowly Leaving
Life
Humbled
Blind
Naive
Finding Hope
Renewing Growth
Eating Away
The Core Of
LIFE
Life
life
Life Is Finding
The Freedom To
Die
Satisfied
BE SATISFIED
Lose Fear
Love Passionately
Forgive YOU
Forgive ME
Forgive THEM
Love WITHOUT Fear
No Regrets
Do Not Bind
Yourself/Myself
To Cynicism
Do Not Bind
Yourself/Myself
To
Our Past
Do Not Resign
Yourself/Myself
To A Pre-ordained
Future
Give Freely
Lose Pride
In A Passionate Release
Give Way To
Possibilities
Strength Enduring
To Keep
Searching
Happiness Can Be
Fleeting
Or
Live Eternal
Monday, October 09, 2006
maxine
"That was your gift to me-
there-that was the place
where my life bent away from itself
to join something else,
just as when we say
it did not happen to only me
we begin to give up the self,
saying that it happens to all of us
and that is when we begin to hear
and to speak and to give up our silence."
-Maxine Scates-
Sunday, July 02, 2006
Is this Reality?
fascination
in a warped
sense of reality
violence, greed, hunger, hate?
activisim
connected to
art
intellectual world
spiritual heart
My body is my art?
My mind is my art?
magnify the trivia
of our lives
Live to Love
Love to Hate?
propganda feeds
our lies
our lives
I mask myself
my face - my real
disguise
passionate violences
creates criminals
out of activists
reconcile yourself
myself
to the world that we
created
the god that we
created
the world that we
perpetuate
I stagnate
cannot move
cannot feel
cannot cry
cannot change
myself
my world
our world
our lives
in a warped
sense of reality
violence, greed, hunger, hate?
activisim
connected to
art
intellectual world
spiritual heart
My body is my art?
My mind is my art?
magnify the trivia
of our lives
Live to Love
Love to Hate?
propganda feeds
our lies
our lives
I mask myself
my face - my real
disguise
passionate violences
creates criminals
out of activists
reconcile yourself
myself
to the world that we
created
the god that we
created
the world that we
perpetuate
I stagnate
cannot move
cannot feel
cannot cry
cannot change
myself
my world
our world
our lives
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Living Proof
Pain
cannot
will not
be
ignored
Push it away
Cover your eyes
pretend
and
pray
But
until
you
see
taste
feel
hear
and
smell
it
You will be
haunted
hurt
hunted
Pain
must be
unavoidably
acknowledged
Spoken
Shared
Singled
out
and
told
and
believed
and
heard
while
you - I - me
WE
listen
So
That
you - I - me
WE
can
grow
change
heal
AND
Let Go
Be Real
Be Whole
NEW
Beautiful
Alive and Free
Open the door and Walk through pain
cannot
will not
be
ignored
Push it away
Cover your eyes
pretend
and
pray
But
until
you
see
taste
feel
hear
and
smell
it
You will be
haunted
hurt
hunted
Pain
must be
unavoidably
acknowledged
Spoken
Shared
Singled
out
and
told
and
believed
and
heard
while
you - I - me
WE
listen
So
That
you - I - me
WE
can
grow
change
heal
AND
Let Go
Be Real
Be Whole
NEW
Beautiful
Alive and Free
Open the door and Walk through pain
Saturday, April 29, 2006
Inevitable
How can I write anything new
Now that I no longer have you
Now that I no longer have you
You were my muse
my light
my dark angel
my knight
in too much armor
my light
my dark angel
my knight
in too much armor
You tore my heart apart
I wrote
You broke my soul in two
I wrote
I wrote
You broke my soul in two
I wrote
You pushed me away
Without ever letting go
Without ever letting go
You showed me the door
but always kept it closed
but always kept it closed
You destroyed my innocence
I wrote
I wrote
You ended my childhood
I wrote
I wrote
You were my bruise
my sight
my archangel
my night
who shut out the day
my sight
my archangel
my night
who shut out the day
You held me tight
While saying "I don’t love you"
While saying "I don’t love you"
You kissed my lips
And whispered "the end is here"
And whispered "the end is here"
"I love you"
when I’m gone
"Please leave"
when I’m near
when I’m gone
"Please leave"
when I’m near
This was inevitable
and I write
and I write
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
Glamour
Religion
Sex
Culture
Work
How far can you make it on your looks?
Nail Polish
Mascara
Rouge
Lip Wax
After-Shave
Cologne
Deodorant
Back Wax
How much can you change about how you look?
Weights
Aerobics
Botox
Silicone
Dexatrim
Phen-fen
Steroids
Creatine
How much money do you spend on looks?
45 BILLION
Dollar
Thinness
Industry
30 BILLION
Dollar
Youth
Industry
Fashion
Beauty
Masks
Reality
Spend that money on some therapy!!!
Sex
Culture
Work
How far can you make it on your looks?
Nail Polish
Mascara
Rouge
Lip Wax
After-Shave
Cologne
Deodorant
Back Wax
How much can you change about how you look?
Weights
Aerobics
Botox
Silicone
Dexatrim
Phen-fen
Steroids
Creatine
How much money do you spend on looks?
45 BILLION
Dollar
Thinness
Industry
30 BILLION
Dollar
Youth
Industry
Fashion
Beauty
Masks
Reality
Spend that money on some therapy!!!
Monday, March 06, 2006
Honor
I am
A Jew
I am
Black
I am
A Buddhist
I am
White
I am
A Hindu
I am
Indigenous
I am
A Wiccan
I am
Hispanic
I am
A Christian
I am
Asian
I am
A Muslim
I am
Somewhere in Between
I am
YOU
I am
ME
I am
Gay
I am
Straight
I am
Somewhere in Between
I am
YOU
I am
ME
I am
Liberal
I am
Conservative
I am
Independent
I am
Somewhere in Between
I am
YOU
I am
ME
I am
Woman
I am
Man
I am
Transsexual
I am
Somewhere in Between
I am
YOU
I am
ME
I am
A genius
I am
Developmentally Delayed
I am
Somewhere in Between
I am
YOU
I am
Me
Celebrate Diversity
Honor Yourself in Me
A Jew
I am
Black
I am
A Buddhist
I am
White
I am
A Hindu
I am
Indigenous
I am
A Wiccan
I am
Hispanic
I am
A Christian
I am
Asian
I am
A Muslim
I am
Somewhere in Between
I am
YOU
I am
ME
I am
Gay
I am
Straight
I am
Somewhere in Between
I am
YOU
I am
ME
I am
Liberal
I am
Conservative
I am
Independent
I am
Somewhere in Between
I am
YOU
I am
ME
I am
Woman
I am
Man
I am
Transsexual
I am
Somewhere in Between
I am
YOU
I am
ME
I am
A genius
I am
Developmentally Delayed
I am
Somewhere in Between
I am
YOU
I am
Me
Celebrate Diversity
Honor Yourself in Me
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