the woman lactating quietly in the corner
watched while i curdled hopes in a mixing bowl

meanwhile
she churned the joys of motherhood
while the crevices of a buttery blossom healed

it was beautiful.
your face hovering over my body.
i have nothing else to say.
it was beautiful.

i want to drown in klein's blue
i wouldn't struggle

i'm sure it would swallow me gently
i'm sure it would feel like hope

when i am around you, lately
i feel like i am in seventh grade again
i was not a very cute 13 year old

in addition, i was always shy
and everything made me nervous
especially boys i liked

i would giggle too much

or else,
worse,
i would act like i didn't care
about anything
i would say things in a sarcastic tone
and overdo it, at that

i never was any good at flirting

my happy place
is your armpit

haiku

my lingering hopes
(i dropped them in your mailslot)
grey snowmen melting

the path to your house was as slushy
as a cheerleader's smile...
i was out of pebbles
and so i trailed tears
like hansel's breadcrumbs

im still trying to find my way home
from that house made of laquered sweets
and cherry pits

testing....

the Harlem renaissance poetry
intrigued me so well.

path rickety pathos
jointed and garbled
crocheted from a mish mash of phrases
your hand caressed my hair
and you kissed the top of my head

at least you never swore you'd love me forever
you never swore you loved me at all
only begrudgingly admitted it a couple of times
under the influence of alcohol

(and never existed there such a precious admission as this
to my raw and pitiful heart)

i maneuvered the cart
you, hovering in the corner of my eye
twirling your pony tail
like a genie
(except you were wearing a shirt)

i was so distracted
and impeccably giddy

i almost ran into a few people
but i needed to hurry hurry
and besides, i was giddy
and impeccably distracted

you only had a half hour
and i didn't want to ruin your day

vainglorious

i register the filth
in a stately daze.

the cat urine.
the empty beer cans.
the dirty plastic spoons.
the used q tips.
the debris on my carpet.

highfalutin

i apply my makeup
in a fastidious stupor.

the pale foundation.
the eyebrow pencil.
the charcoal eyeshadow.
the black eyeliner.
the red lipstick.

it's such an awful story, really.
it makes us both look just terrible.

it makes you look wretchedly selfish and human.
and it makes me look dreadfully sappy and pathetic.

but it's a beautiful story, nonetheless.

and i love it, in all of it's loathsome glory.

it's a dark comedy.
a tragedy.
a love story.
a horror flick.

it's not over.

i don't know what happens in the story.

but i think i'll love the ending, regardless.

it will probably turn out to be have one of those banal anti climatic endings.
where nothing very exciting happens.
nothing horrid.
nothing wonderful.
everyone settles into routines that aren't too bad even if they are a little boring.
and ends up spending their last days with the wrong person entirely.
but the wrong person is nice enough.
and there's nothing wrong with the wrong person.
except that you're spending your last days with them.

and then
it just ends.

(something i wrote a couple years ago)
blinded and optimistic like the vision of all things intense staring at the sun my lips are numb reflections kissing in vacated response responding in automation your heart is disengaged i sense in my delusion venturing indentured and bleeding internally or the careful application of crimson to my lips confident and unassuming at the mention of your name metaphorically i want you... generally you are all wrong the literal beckoning of your whisper bringing an edgy wondering to my cheeks a distant blush of transgression i repent in bemused torrents of etched uncertainty my ever warming i wander away from naive underestimation temptress ventures compliant inverted grating at my desires i compose a million indiscreet possibilities i remain honest and open intentional and vague kissed and virging on blanched disgrace

i dreamed i was in prison.
a womens prison.
loosely regulated, not a lot of authorities.
a girl challenged me to fight.
other were girls fighting too.
it wasnt really an option.
she was weak.
screaming insults at me.
i kept silent
& dodging her frantic attempts
to hurt me with her fists
or objects she would hurl at me.
i finally grabbed her by the hair
& hit her in the face.
she was so pretty.
then i kissed her.
a very sweet and passionate kiss.
she didnt resist.
then i left her standing there, stunned.
and all the other girls stopped fighting too.

and i went to find some paper,
on which to write you a love letter.

i trod gently through my desert
trying not to disturb granules of sands
or lonely vipers
so afraid was i

so hopeful

the oasis shimmering in the distance
promising lush embraces
cool water on my tongue
shadows to bathe in

oh you cherish.
and i...
oh i cant recall.
i know it's true.
i can't help but know.
and me all feral
oh you know i'm yours.
what am i to do?
i can't.
o hi can't
tell you the blatant truth.
it's all sugar castles.
melting in the rain.
i'm not all that poetic.
but ill say a line or two.
just to open up the portals.
pain and deliverance.
determination.
what do i have?
just me typing with my eyes closed.
closed.
closed
to your indifference.
i am obeidiant to a fault.

the paper bowls accumulate
stacked all willy nilly around my computer
crusted with yesterday's cravings
the remnants of consumption

you are my confession
chiseled from solitude
white and crisp


the wasp
nestled in your eye socket
as a negotiation

eight
lobster confessions
orange
beady eyed
lying wait
on the ocean floor

never is an awful word
a word that dies
even as you hoist it into a sentence
coniving as it disintegrates



i'd offer you a better poem if i could but i'm rusty and this is what came out today
i have to go to work in like five minutes...

leslie berated the crudeness
smeared childishly on the page
crude for the sake of being crude
is unbecoming in a poet
so i hid it in a box under my bed
i am not a poet
i am an artist
and i will carve the letters
into my own flesh
if that's what the muse suggests
the crudeness of your name
trickling down my leg

i'm an optimistic nihilist
dying

i venture mildly into the conversion
offering a silver coin i found at the bottom of my purse
someone gave it to me
i don't remember who
someone with old eyes

i used to prosletyze with conviction
i think was about six years old
and my heart couldn't have pumped sincerer blood
into my reddening cheeks

then it was obligatory

then came guilt

and possibly compassion

now it's just dust left on my mantle

silver coins in the bottom of my purse

with the lint

and an old lipstick

the jading
you
pressed so lovingly into her skin
violets blooming and rotting

the longing
you
sifted so casually into her naivity
breath rising and falling

for marilyn

as curious as you are
as much as you want to know the end
1,000 arabian daydreams
crooked fingers
beckoning
yes

i love you baby
but the nets drag the ocean
for naught

i don't want to snare you
i just want to scare you
oh just a little tiny bit

i adore you
yes

i'm so perceptive
as i gallavant your misery

red crimson scarlet fervent

how many shades
of lust adultery passion ardor

what are all these descriptives
all these ripe seductive hues
lush between your lips

i'd tell you the truth if i knew where to begin. i swear i would. i'd be as pungent as the dung you wallow in. i'd trickle down your chin like tobacco juice. and never stop by your door again. i'd let you lie, alon in your own bed, on the comforter stained with withering semen. i'd be as subtle as the dust gathering on top of your ceiling fan. as painless as your graying hair.
i'd tell you the truth. i swear i would, if i knew where to begin.

aileen separates the whites
from the darks
from the yolks
from your eyes

and their implications

all those bleached out sentiments

she loads the machine
gets out the wisk
believes what she wants to

she has a tender knack
for the awkward

her keys clenched tightly
dewing with sweat
metal against flesh

she'll give you the key
to her chastity belt

she has such a tender knack
for the misplaced sacred

i barely remember stumbling down the street and accepting the ride down eight blocks and to the right and right again. this isn't my house i told her but i'll sleep in the back yard if they won't let me in no answer at the door and i made my way around the side to the tall gate i couldn't figure out how to unlock it. fumbling and reaching around back i went trying to pry the back gate open peeing in the alleyway wandering back around front still no answer so i find a truck door unlocked and sleep in there for a time how long i don't know before i startle awake and stumble out on to the street again the eight blocks on foot this time slightly dazed and alone to my blue car my purse is missing i drive back and get it from the truck along with my cell phone and drive home.

You Don't Know What Love Is
but you know how to raise it in me
like a dead girl winched up from a river. How to
wash off the sludge, the stench of our past.
How to start clean. This love even sits up
and blinks; amazed, she takes a few shaky steps.
Any day now she'll try to eat solid food. She'll want
to get into a fast car, one low to the ground, and drive
to some cinderblock shithole in the desert
where she can drink and get sick and then
dance in nothing but her underwear. You know
where she's headed, you know she'll wake up
with an ache she can't locate and no money
and a terrible thirst. So to hell
with your warm hands sliding inside my shirt
and your tongue down my throat
like an oxygen tube. Cover me
in black plastic. Let the mourners through.

by Kim Addonizio

these lips are sealed

none shall kiss
none shall hear their secrets
none shall feed them painkillers

until i find a way out of you

she rakes her fingernails
over the wounds

mysterious gaping
dripping sap
and craving

she can't remember
and yet she can never forget

she finds herself searching the crevices
for some evidence

she wants to lay on your table
and have you dissect her
inch by inch
with nails
and corkscrews
and pliers
till you find whatever it is that's screaming inside of her.

she's running half awake
wild eyed and confused
over analyzing
over stepping her boundaries
tumbling over fences

force feeding
you her feminine wyles
seducing you with a bulldozer
and a whole series of stained tshirts
she's so sexy
she's so hot

and if you won't have her
she'll pick you up bodily
and carry you off to her cave

she's so sexy
she's so hot

now it's me
chasing you
gagging on my inhibitions
and making a fool of myself
pacing the coals
regrets and humiliation
the cinders cake my lips

i'd wake her up
if i thought she could help me
my sweet angel of death

now it's you
vaguely avoiding
playing prude
and lowering your eyes

i'd wake her up
if i thought she could help me
my sweet angel of ignorance

i cannot ignore you
you stalk the perimeter of my experiences
and by "you" i mean your existence

the scars i relish
just where your eyes
singed the fabric of my being

just where your lips
seared the pulp of my ardor
(i would say love save for it's triteness these days)

i flee around corners
the squaring off of reasoning
the chasing of escape

kissing others
(you told me to after all)
and i hate every minute of it

i watch all this pass
desiring
a certain sauntering bliss
instead of grey-edged gust awakenings
pilfering rust from my introspections

the next morning
my tangled hair
tumbles in prosaic discord

gust-edges tinged with red

a man of unknown origins
contemplates
the 7 counts and the tap of leather soles
7 paces to the twirly skirt girl
7 moments to contemplate scandelous possibilities

anchored in the midst of cadence

she ecompasses a tremulous haunt
posseses the aching of lungs
the bitter want of acrid inhalations
all while wearing a twirly skirt
and smiling tediously

i am an angel
i swear i am a wisp of smoke
trailing through the sky

i wear your ashes
i swear i am an ancient ruin
crumbling

but i don't really care right now
when you are sober
you make me laugh
ecclectic and beguiling
industrious and careless
so
kiss me
if i am pretty

you'd think i'd learn
but i don't
and this is just a phase...

so i said
so she said

and here i am
chasing the witch
witht the cold ghost of an unknown man
seeping up into my soul

i am sad here
but i laugh anyway

you point your lips
you water your plants
you avoid the matter at hand

yet you are so curious
what when and where
never why though
just the details

leveling the ground
and i'm subconsciously
doing the same

slipping down
slucing through
guzzling your burdens
shouldering blame

i'm not helping you
i'm not helping anyone
i whisper soft and quiet
and hear your voice in my head
all tunneled up and far away...

ashes are dirty your silence is filthy swallowing my voice my erratic halting blundering i fidget uselessly kicking around melodramatic ideas of swooning near death pallid and dissipating evoking your compassion pressing pressing till every drop of your voice has been squeezed from you mouth and pooled up in the crevices of my palms that acrid smoldering elixor evaporating into smoke leaving only ashes---filthy silent ashes.

i don't know why i take to this
rambling on senselessly
pinning my butterflies to a board
and ears to keyholes
your eyehole
your belly button
your source of life

i vent my thoughts
on clothes lines and telephone wires
pining after no one
pining after silent treatments

you work
in your studio
in your house
in your mind
ignoring me faithfully
save for digital rejections
venerating the obvious
and alluding to my insignificance
or an illusive adoration/attraction

i don't know why i take to this
estrogenated bursts of emotion
fits of passion
fists of degradation
limpid reasonings
tinged with guilt and want

i don't know why i take to this
creating things that no one will want
yet everyone will love
it doesn't match their couch
i don't match your couch
and somehow that's who i am
look at me
but don't take me home

earth circling the sun

the age old gravitation

as i circle you


it may take eons

but it will arrive-combust

as will i combust

you gentle nonchalant
you misdemeanor quiet
i bear it so well
shoulders broadened by burdens
smooth and white
curving toward me
down around me
framing my lightened heart

the ashes they follow
obey without question
drift and alight
crumbling naturally
flaky and white
like smiles and similes

christian me nancy
deem me worthy
dance with me antidote
bring me to reason

the lonely road kissed the vacant sky
for lack of anything better to do

and i drove along breaking its revery
to my empty house
in its tan paint embrace

my own revery languors quietly
nestled in the pale embrace of my skin

lonely
kissing my hand
for lack of anything better to do

lingering there
the dark reflections on your eyelids

like strangely painted star configurations

is there a bicycle?

a double wheeled ocean edge....

i saw the evidence
the etchings
of cigarettes, cocktail straws, and sloppy smooches


you pedal drunk
draughts of air in your dream box

off to dissipate again
and it's been two months

you loom in my peripheral
roll in from the left
materialize in grainy pixels

i don't know why i do this to myself

who will buy my vomit

or the shell from whence it came

oh my wow my oh my

light colliding with buildings with your smile and your form
i want to listless laugh
i want my own slanted rhyme
a deposition of my grievances
a slatted opening into your soul through which i can peer

i listless listen to you relive your past womengirls
hanging on your every last word are bits of dignity and the somber daydreams i lilt through my mind
i hear the train whistling downtown and know you hear it too 7 blocks away and drinking vodka while you don't think about me

i listless listen to you relive your past women and girls and hanging on your every word

maybe i can project my milky wondering onto your somber faced generality
fractured applesauce being my motive
religious meanderings and cracked up foundations with their meandering rifts
kicking my blended macabre reasonings along the sidewalks and down alleyways
i hope aimlessly

i adore you like washed out pages of nothing and the small moments that breeze through my hair that calm my worries and dissipate my inhibitions placeboes bring me reprieve for a moment for a moment for a moment and i trade your voice for my sense of well being... discuss your faults bring your hands up to my mouth bring your voice up to my ear kiss your memory again and over and over again i kiss your mouth the mirror is cold but you are warm and you soothe my heart's erratic beating and make me for a moment for a moment for a moment ok

i seep my self in music

and i give away all your phrases

the ones i made for you...

and i don't know

and i can't find

the flight i want to give you

and my poetry is all bullshitty and trite

i write it anyway

and i burn your memory into my flesh

the searing of a love unrequited

teen angst and tea time melancholy

and it's been said a million times

and it's been felt a million times more

and i lick my lips

exhale cigarette smoke...

laud myself unique

all the pretentions amount to me closing my eyes to eliminate the glare to try and find some bit of happy wondering about things that don't matter in the long run do you love me is that why you kissed me because in my little girl mind that's really what i think that's really what i want to believe but you go away you leave me here standing with my eyes closed half smile on my face and people ask me what i'm thinking about and where do i start to explain that it's not what i'm thinking about it's what i'm trying to not think about you with your eyes closed half smile on your face...

i'm at school "writing a paper"

mostly trying anyway trying

but really i'm laughing

but really i'm crying

but really i'm just slipping into reveries

generating the acquisitional dreaming

where'd you go

come back come back come back

you strobe my inhalations
probe my insecurities
and i listen listless
inviting your voice
and not responding

i am forever revery

fleck
broken
your mishapen smile

break me
kick me
flecked shoulderblades

smile
broken
your mishapen me

broken
shoulderblades
broken
flecks
broken
smiles

i detest this silence
glare at it
throw rocks

i'm coming down

i am sure of it

but i am forever revery

you left me a week and a half ago
and i'm still just laying here

going over the moments
crumpling them up
smoothing them out
adding depth and shadow

i am deepening
i am shallowing
i am gasping for air
i am alone

mouth your sadness
on the surface of my cheek

chair me out
like ocean tides
and changing minds
i'm wandering now

im in france
wandering around
hovering a couple inches underneath the sidewalk
rippling along the edges

i walk into a tabacco shop
the old men look at me
and i walk out again

the sidewalk is wet
and so is my hair
i feel ok
i feel bewildered

my coat is black

what would you do
if i told you what i am thinking
i am thinking of your eyes

clean cut stranger
the neatly combed hair
the button up striped shirt

you are sex baby
you are gold
glitter shine and dazzle
you are sex baby
where do you think i am
hiding in the shoe rack
waiting for a match
to light my fireand all the fanny packs
and all the stirrup pants i wore
with the big pink glasses
tinted half way down
you are sex baby
i know you know you are

forlorn
silent in my own desperation
you sever chords
breaking notes
and grinding your teeth against rhythms

in terms of my own involvement
i quiver arrows of anticipation
lifting flakes of resistance from your skin
pressing flowers between my lips
small whithering hopes
flakes of fading color
misinterpreted eyes
firsts and seconds
followed by a lifetime of regret
i'm automatic interacting
pulling strings and pressing keys
pouring new layers of wax
over the samevintage aspirations
i breathe acrid and alluring

would you find me
would you press your face up against my windows kiss the seperation
kiss the barriers

lend me your illusions

i am fading
drifting and becoming
you sink and glimmer
and i think you might understand
the darkeness of your desires bleed into mine
generate
misinterpret the signs
i die too much
a ripped off phrase---- adopted washed out dreams
crumble
bend break
reverberate in my stoic screaming

erring
crisp and clean
allotting dirt and ashes
mmmmmmm
i will miss you
and your grit
and your fervor
break it clean
right along the middle of my sternum...

send your rays out ward...
fill up someone else's cup
kiss the tears from someone else's face
and laugh at a lot of jokes

i've been there...

self centered

glaring at your empty cup
running your finger around its rim
bringing it up to your lips dry and empty

you rage and simper
sullen and pretentious in your self loathing
holding mirrors between us in apology

it's better if i'm quiet
if i let you draw your own conclusions
the fading and the gazing
my eyes waxing and waning and circling your mouth
my vertebraes creaking tinsel
my ribs form concentric circles around my heart

richard and leslie are tall and stately and friendly faces while bob brings his hard edged smile to meet mine only when i insist i anger and despair and then it softens and i think i see something real---down goes # one and down goes # two and down goes # three and i am dancing or sitting under a table laughing--- or kissing a face or letting you hold my hand while my soul weeps from behind my glazed smile... you are the only you in this poem... and richard and leslie and bob and faces are only noise in this installation--- friendly necessary beloved noise---direct questions from you and discreet statements and seat belts and hats and that's never been what i am about... but i'll be good and sweet and gentle while i defy the cliches and listen to you say my name matter of factly.

they drift down to earth
with their cinder parachutes
ashes of belonging
down and down and down

my lips are numb reflections

my soul collides with yours in mid-air above a crowded room

also, you dream of me

and i dream of you.

pretty soon i will make a decision

i will probably cry
and perhaps you will be angry
or worse, you will not care...

leave her yearning for a while
in brave depression she craves
never to acquiesce

and you hovering over her
flanked by bits of rubbish and wonder
darkening towards your core

break down her resolve
with your variating approaches
dulling her thoughts

i try to smooth my worry
ironing trees

chewing on feathers

clicking my teeth together

pixilating myself into a glue girl
sticky pasted and peeling off

less a girl
more a person
more a woman
less a child
less a woman
more a seductress
more a whore and peeling and peeling...

left to grate fingernails and hair
shortened introspection
the edges on my forehead invite concern
i age silently and diligently
smoking and tanning and not sleeping enough

your vague curve leaves much to be desired
a smile on its way to a funeral

less of a girl
more of a person
more of a girl
smaller and smaller and smaller...
pixilating myself into a glue girl
sticky sweet and peeling off
rendering myself smoky and vague

i try to smooth my worry
ironing trees

chewing on feathers

clicking my teeth together

your vented frame invites clarification
ribs ennunciated against flesh
collar bones

you glare elitist and pale
i shudder in appreciation
wither in the shadows
wander in the triumph of failure
if you like the ocean then why are you spitting dry and paper thin i cry i wake i open my eyes and wonder what it is i just saw you in the distance you inches from my lips you with your eyes pasted on like poor and lost i can't promise you i'll never go away i can't promise you i'lll never drag my self to a grave and lay down at last i can't be the dust and the trees in your orchard blooming indeffinately blooming in white blooming in pink pink dewy forever i crack along the seams i thought they were healing i thought they were done with the bleeding i thought i could paste on a pair of eyes of my own i thought you wouldn't notice that they were just glued in place black and white distracting the patience of your eyes the patience of thine eyes i wane sarcastic for lack of a better alternative i write free and unthinking washed and incorporated my body soft and amorphic i melt i bleed i plead searching the beach for fragments of my love's 87 heartaches past and i am not sad to be number 88 i am so fortunate i am so vagrant to have been in these arms i am doomed to happiness i am blessed with downward spirals and lovely night sky eyes jesting and worse kissed and blissed and missed and dissed and pissed and her rhyming takes to monotany for lack of a better word for lack of a better metaphore you laugh at me you look at me you bring your eyes down to my form and my latent passions and my open hands and my lips brimming with curiosity with a form of drunken wandering salivating and mouthing promises in my ears were you there when i dropped the lids from my eyes when i let the hair fall unheeded from my head when i swore to a million stars that i would never be an aggravation i heed the tears i know they are mediocre at best i know they click and clack like a cheap rosary i know they are only a small thing and selfish at best you couldn't stop for a moment and console the burgeoning despair shelter me from my own thorns and thunder

hunger dashes itself against the waistline of my continent

it's funny
that i am writing about you
the lines you made on someone else's face
the bare spots i see in your gaze
belligerent foolishness
or quiet desperation

it's strange
he makes frequent mention
fretting your name
savoring your faults
generalizing your presence
in misshapen adoration

it is a tired veneration
a wrapping of arms around some broken edifice
your eyes frame possibilities
distant and searching

intrinsically barren
this holy wafer
virgin and stoic
refined and careless
i dissolve nonetheless

i search, bladed and wanting
shelling reasons
with blistered fingers
and wandering eyes

restlessly guarding my love
as it seeps freely

your jaded existence
stirs me to flutter
stale winds of vigor

i cling watchfully
i sink into drowning
in the bathtub
postponing the gasp
baptism and revival

i shudder in the cold
hard nipples and clammy wet hair
lips shivering instead of praying
inverting
curling and returning
chaste and asleep

break me
with your gratuitous anger

dense and textured

i invite reasons
i dispel forgiveness
i invite wanting

she is one of those graces

i don't know what i'm talking about

are you disgusted yet?
another vague cliche
for your list
lips bent into reasons
touch rending sentiment
burnt chairs
and windows melting eyes
blending skin into walls
eyes glass over tritely
and i pass cliched and labeled
plentiful and passionate
disappointed and pleading

she wraps her hair around her finger

layers of words on a platform

strands of poetry

gracing bare white flesh

page by page

bound together

enbalmed in ink

i flirt around the edges

dodge your steel gaze

cold and dangerous

deep and empty

crush my heart against your mouth

red pulp smearing

trying for meaning

some un-defecated sentiment

some purpose behind the drunken veil

some heart of truth

some tragic wanting

blunt and broken

drunk and searching

you disappoint

my thoughts

encompassed by yours

this bleeding metal

this glass encased shard of my heart

this porcelain grave

this stone uterus of mine

this plaintive cry

if i am pretty

the persistant gnawing of your gaze

at the edges of my femininity

encroaches

and yet i acquiesce

and ponder you daily

you are a boring drunk

dull and unspecific

a generality worn thin by years of overuse

receptive and hopeful

i blend my wanting into reveries

i whisper at the surface

out of breath for telling

crowning like birthing all over again

i am maternal by nature

and the child emerges dreaming

soft and compliant

generous and crying

belligerant and non existant

i rip at my flesh to get to my heart

finding ache and lack and serpentine want

i bliss for a moment

holding my breath under the surface

fetal curiosity

particles of reality fading

static encroaching

imagining that it is forever

my death and my life and this moment

warmth and submergence

the yearning of my lungs for air

the darkening of my eyes to the world

before i break

gasping into the chill of existance

you reiterate the common

in grandiose

and i dodge the light

reflecting from your eyes

i seek out the hard edges

bound up in hour glasses

kick me down and leave me reeling

i walk down the stairs

leaves still breathing

kicked and empty

hungry and sick

sick

she's vintage and optimistic

obsessing about vague fraying

and the disintegration of eye contact

your beige memory

is somehow nauseating

and not hunter green anymore

i don't know why i'm so undeclared

and yet i hate the neutral colors

i ponder your mouth

variegated

sentiment

insulating

and dark

brush away the cobwebs

from lips and yearnings

like illusions they gather

flowers lose their fervor

and my life drifts further

a black moon in a vacant sky

reminiscent of your eyes

peel back the wall paper

teeth against tongue

my lips are numb reflections

i am reeling in a dimly lit doorway

breathing with you in my temples

and a pair of questions in my eyes

you swear that i'm pretty

you look me through my pupils

casual casual...

like it's nothing

but you don't believe me

when i say you are my 1st

and you don't see me

as you sample my heart

one fraction at a time

i am votive and reliant

honest

my lips in acquiescence

tu me manque...
le rouge et le noir...

hunger grates at my soul
voracity is unbecoming

words beat at my temples
i lilt anyhow

truth clings to my teeth
and there it remains

you wander by
with my voice in your palm

roses wane poetic---laughter dissipates completely
i seep silent and dispairing through cracks in my face
the holes in my eyes listless and hiding passion

il y a des chose... que je veu te dire...
des chose que je ne peu pas dire en anglais...
je faux dire en francais...
parce que le francais, c'est comme un manteau dans le froid....

c'est possible que tu ne me comprendre pas...

mais, tu avais les yeux comme la nuit avec les etoiles...

c'est tout

parce qu'apres ca, je suis perdu pour l'eternite

les mots sont seulement les cendres sur ma langue

i'll write you a love song
i'll pretend i didn't notice

your eyes they are wandering

i send out my reasons
they come back like pigeons

some days i can't even see

i'll be here when you leave
i'll be remembering your life

some days i can't even breathe

arsenic melodies will slow my heart
bladed glances will pare down my life

you won't feel a thing

i'll hang on to my reasons
their wings will brush my tears away

funny thing is
i believe you
rag tag baby doll
kiss and tell
don't quite trust you
but that's not all
i still believe
your lips and eyes
maybe truth
maybe lies
funny thing is


you could be me
i could be you
you could be her
i could be him
now that dont make sense

what kind of rock
do you roll
do you mind
do you lie
seems kind
a ring on a finger
what kind of rock
do you roll

i don't pretend
oh wait
yes i do
yes i do
i do
way way way
out to be free
out to find you
out to see

no one wants to know when you are sad
no one wants to know when you are in love with someone that doesn't call
why is that
laugh & the whole world laughs with you...

and then that billie holiday song
Money, you've got lots of friends Crowding round the door When you're gone, spending ends They don't come no more Rich relations give Crust of bread and such You can help yourself But don't take too much Mama may have, Papa may have But God bless the child that's got his own That's got his own

a letter i did not send


just left art club... i'm in a daze today... too much to drink last night, no headache, but the world is all far away and cold. have to do some art for my final... i want to be passionate about my art, but there is only two days left, and passion... is elusive i guess. oh well, right. did you check out my web site? it's sort of lame, because i did it really quickly, and so... yeah. whatever. one guy i sent it to said, "you are really beautiful, but i won't say anything about your design, since it's your first time..." wow. thanks.. haha...what the fuck is life all about britta? i don't know anymore.and why can't i seem to say what i want to say, ever. why do i love so much even when it hurts.i'm estranging myself from my friends... i'm becoming hollow.i'm sick of being sad, but i suck at pretending.

he did what i thought about
i never even mentioned it
thats so strange to me

and now it is gone

maybe i'll think about
something more grand....

the baby she looked at me
i couldn't believe it

someday i'll be mother
to a child of my own

his eyes were so dark

his heart, it was hiding

i think he loves women
and not girls like me

it's probably a good thing
moving again

she has sincere eyes
and a little girl she loves

i wash my face two times a day
i never seem to know what time it is

i don't mean to drag you in
i didn't mean to make you sad

fresh start new heart
it's probably a good thing

it's probably a good thing

i wish i wasn't so crazy

that someone would notice

you say you think i'm beautiful

what's that mean anyhow

i kiss my pillow

and the murmurs are empty

i'd like to tell you many things

i read your lips and eyes and elbows

Jesse thinks poetry is bullshit

i'm starting to believe him

i'm starting to cry

i'm starting to realize

i used to be a good girl

i didn't use to drink beer

i didn't use to say fuck you all

i used to cry a lot more

i sit in the corner

i wish i wasn't so crazy

i wish i had a beer

i wish i could write poetry

teach me how to sing

what i really want to say

going through a phase
that's all this has to be
right

can't be always that way
can't always be that way
i can't kiss you

not now anyway

i'm alone

i'm moving on

i'm going to write a song
and then maybe you will listen

what's it all about
when you laugh at me
when you say i'm funny
in that condescending sexy voice

i can't smoke
i don't inhale

i can't be your girl
i suck at flirting
i just want to know
if you want me

i am such a fucking idiot

and no one will notice

Jacques brel

(a french love song)

Ne me quitte pas

Il faut oublier

Tout peut s’oublier

Qui s’enfuit déjà

Oublier le temps

Des malentendus

Et le temps perdu

A savoir comment

Oublier ces heures

Qui tuaient parfois

A coups de pourquoi

Le coeur du bonheur

Ne me quitte pas

Ne me quitte pas

Ne me quitte pas

Ne me quitte pas

Moi je t’offrirai

Des perles de pluie

Venues de pays

Oþ il ne pleut pas

Je creuserai la terre

Jusqu’après ma mort

Pour couvrir ton corps

D’or et de lumière

Je ferai un domaine

Oþ l’amour sera roi

Oþ l’amour sera loi

Oþ tu seras reine

Ne me quitte pas

Ne me quitte pas

Ne me quitte pas

Ne me quitte pas

Ne me quitte pas

Je t’inventerai

Des mots insensés

Que tu comprendras

Je te parlerai

De ces amants-là

Qui ont vu deux fois

Leurs coeurs s’embraser

Je te raconterai

L’histoire de ce roi

Mort de n’avoir pas

Pu te rencontrer

Ne me quitte pas

Ne me quitte pas

Ne me quitte pas

Ne me quitte pas

On a vu souvent

Rejaillir le feu

De l’ancien volcan

Qu’on croyait trop vieux

Il est para¡±t-il

Des terres brulées

Donnant plus de blé

Qu’un meilleur avril

Et quand vient le soir

Pour qu’un ciel flamboie

Le rouge et le noir

Ne s’épousent-ils pas

Ne me quitte pas

Ne me quitte pas

Ne me quitte pas

Ne me quitte pas

Ne me quitte pas

Je ne vais plus pleurer

Je ne vais plus parler

Je me cacherai là

A te regarder

Danser et sourire

Et à t’écouter

Chanter et puis rire

Laisse-moi devenir

L’ombre de ton ombre

L’ombre de ta main

L’ombre de ton chien

Ne me quitte pas

Ne me quitte pas

Ne me quitte pas

Ne me quitte pas

CLOWN IN THE MOON

BY:Dylan Thomas

My tears are like the quiet drift

Of petals from some magic rose;

And all my grief flows from the rift

Of unremembered skies and snows.

I think, that if I touched the earth,

It would crumble;

It is so sad and beautiful,

So tremulously like a dream.

*this is by far one of my favorite poems

lemonlime sliver chasing
threads of longing fraying gently
weather cursing gentle gasps
winter lisping white and bitter

felt your life shiver faintly
i saw your eyes change direction
future windows empty walls
portrait nursing listless murmurs

mother lit dimly feeble
wonder beckons dissertation
aspens cloaked distant yawning
questions dapple silver pacing

i'll give you rainy for your day

the embers of reality line the sockets of my eyes
and echo in the charred edges of my voice

you have me all torn up like wastepaperland shoebox ruins
and all the world may feel the same but i wouldn’t know it
even in my highest state of benevolence…
confusion often runs itself into the ground
i prey on conventions
as modesty kisses the blushing lips of inadequacy

i think you miss me,
but who’s to know…
the midrift of eternity may forever be empty
hunger dashes itself against the waistline of my continent
waves washing hands of blood
sun bleaching tearstains

i want to layer sounds like i do blankets
thick and enveloping
staving off the cold of silence
knocking the edge off of loneliness
but you kick me in the teeth with your voice every time

simply marvelling
waste the time

i'm good at that

i'm good

simply laughing
haha
haha

well whadya know
here she is... and
fifteen minutes to go

oops i did it again...
wow this is so bloody freaking profound

For as I passed by, and beheld your devotions, I found an altar with this inscription, TO THE UNKNOWN GOD. Whom therefore ye ignorantly worship, him declare I to you
God that made the world and all things therein, seeing that he is Lord of heaven and earth, dwelleth not in temples made with hands
Neither is worshipped with men's hands, as though he needed any thing, seeing he giveth to all life, and breath, and all things;
And hath made of one blood all nations of men for to dwell on all the face of the earth, and hath determined the times before appointed, and the bounds of their habitation;
That they should seek the Lord, if haply they might feel after him, and find him, though he be not far from every one of us:
For in him we live, and move, and have our being; as certain also of your own poets have said, For we are also his offspring.
Forasmuch then as we are the offspring of God, we ought not to think that the Godhead is like unto gold, or silver, or stone, graven by art and man's device.
And the times of this ignorance God winked at; but now commandeth all men every where to repent:
Because he hath appointed a day, in the which he will judge the world in righteousness by that man whom he hath ordained; whereof he hath given assurance unto all men, in that he hath raised him from the dead.
And when they heard of the resurrection of the dead, some mocked: and others said, We will hear thee again of this matter.

lost confusions
spinning transparently
and i envision the world...
if i lower the blinds
i can imagine that i am alone

a lullaby is gasping for breath
and the world tells me i gotta rock on
you understand what i'm saying?

yesterday i washed my face
and the light lay on the window sill
for just a while
it will be back again soon
the sun went down for just a little while

and what exactly is it that i'm trying to say?

something about the look on your face,

4 water lilies
7 happy hour daydreams &
2 times around the block

here we go again
lilting and i cry
jilting and i try
laughing and there you are
oh my

baby... you seem true
you seem blue
sometimes
and where do i begin...

break it down
connect the dots
complete the perfect circle

jitterbug ransack
upside down shanty town
in the middle of my mental wasteland
i reinvent i reinvent i reinvent
and here we go again
verbose verbatim
and the all consuming dread
rose petals on the water
and i dream a way the day
and i lay awake at night
and wonder wets its lips in anticipation
you could leave me be at eleven past two
or just pretend that it's all been done
i have this sense that something lies unsaid
and i have neither lost nor won
break it down
connect the dots
complete the perfect circle

limbo breaks the silence
as it holds it in its grasp
and the world just turns in circles
just like it always has

quote unquote i see you there
quote unquote i love you
quote unquote you rock my world
quote unquote good bye

you think it's you
i think it's me
will it always be that way?
i try so hard to move along
i try so hard to stay




i am a duality gasping for words

this poem goes on forever
this poem never ends

shedding opposites
i sit alone and contemplate a puzzle with pieces missing

there are a few things that i want to know about
you extend your hand
and i wonder what you are thinking about
i dream and wander on
disaster strikes and the sun gets in my eyes
i feel the reality of growing older
and the crawling of my fear as it rises

i laugh to cover up the silent spots
the lack of things to say
the feeling that i dont' know what i'm talking about
nervous shallow laughter
i dread tomorrow... yet hope for great things...
want to linger
want to drive on
the bug on the bathroom floor gave me a fright
and i demolished it

you have the look of someone different
your eyes shift directions... i try to catch their glance
i cant seem to break through the glassy surface
and there are so many things i fear