#110: haiku2012-01-26 22:24:53
here we are, shear slips
wet kicks, unworn, up ended
with red amaranth
#109: sums 2012-01-26 22:22:04
We meet as the shadows of the heart,
caught and froze on white sheaves with black ink.
We see through a novel darkly--
cary the scaffold of form before our eyes--
impose line on cycle.
We meet as shadows of the heart
and stay such, 'till the puppeteer deem fit.
#108: ... 2012-01-26 22:21:12
In my hour of alone,
I saw the fight for sins atoned
and cheered the beast whose highest throne
we saw and did not see.
I cheered him then as now I write,
concerned with essence over right,
enamored of the starkest light--
I aim only to be.
In gardens of pretend desire,
heathens tame and tickle fire,
bind and break the sacred pyre,
and still they are not free;
and still we are not free.
#107: Done by Other2012-01-26 22:20:29
I am between things.
Stood as a stalk between wind and water--
a smothered dress between lovers.
I am between this and that,
will become either when I move--
when I step, or I fall, into the concrete storm,
motionless in fury--
furious in silence.
The ringing in my ears is no song.
#97: First thing in the morning:2011-08-31 17:18:26
Like with the sun to my back shuting one eye, covering my glasses with my hand, and seeing the details of the reflection of my eyebrow in the back of the lense, I see pores, individual hairs, and beads of salty sweat. Twisting tongue. Fluttering eyes look into mine. A mere inches away an a unfamiliar pink silk pillow. Thick black curls stick like sideburns. Breathing slows to normal. I should smile. Show teeth. Feign satisfaction. My short period of orgasmic self actualization has promptly evolved into a selfish longing for coffee and solitude. I should say something. I´m too quiet. This silence isn´t awkward, is it? I should--
"What are you thinking about?"
Shit. She beat me to it. What am I thinking about? Coffee. I need to poop. I need a cigarette. Sex is overrated.