From here on

I'll be putting newer stuff up.

All the things posted prior to this were moved here from my old blog, in no particular order.

:) Cheers.

sun-kissed shadows

dance
in the fading
haze
of a moon-lit night.
she
is only so bold as the
sandals
on her feet.

however,
when she
calls
my name i am
compelled
to gravitate towards her.

she is my
blazing
oblivion, in an
endless
expanse of infinity
leading
to a land i'd rather
not
call familiar.

baked.

i seep back
down
into the crust of this
earth
and find myself thinking it was
better
left unsaid.

half-baked

sun-drenched,

you are
half
a world away from me.

what
is that sound?

(shrieking,
wailing,
tearing)

take
it away from me.

i
never said i
wanted
this pain.

sacred--

i guess i
could
dig deeper,

into the
soul
of things:
brave and without
fear
of what

i might find

d i s i l l u s i o n m e n t-
let us
not
delve into that
darkness
just yet.

a prayer:

false--
i wish you didn't
gather
'round me so.

what
is this
mask
i'm wearing?

why
is this
mask
i'm wearing?

i
want to remember,
she
wants to
bury
all that was.


please,
let her
lace
her fingers
into mine:

to find a
new
strength
that does not
lie
behind barriers;

they say these
journeys
are harder
on your own.

She

is the Sun--
Radiant and True--
a Giver of All Life,
Flame
of a Thousand Hearths.
yet, i do behold such Fury in Her--
for She
is the Bearer of Many Secrets;
Keeper
of Many Pains:

One day, She
will paint us all the color of
a fiery, molten rain,
Birthed
from the belly of an
Ancient
sorrow; and we will all know
what it feels to fall,
We usurpers of a
Feigned love.

sunshine

in my window at
three
(ante-meridiem); i never know if she'll
stay
or wander hopelessly on to some
other
stranger's bedside;
i never know if she'll find
solace
in the dark shadows of some
foreigner's
room, safer from these
city lights
beside a
country belle,
guarded from this
concrete
cage by a force
greater
than my own--none-
the less
she always
always
returns,
at three a.m.,
to pay me
homage,
perhaps:
ma chercheuse éternelle
de la face cachée
de la lune.

the line

between black and white has
faded to gray--
(it wasn't intentional...)
a bleak opacity blurs what was left between
pale feet beating on a
steaming blacktop.

...
you wouldn't think charred heels
could carry the secrets of
life, and death.

remember

that promise you made me?
(it's gone, it's gone)
i felt it slip away...
like so many other days...
out the window of a hum v...
and a trip to france.
don't worry
(i don't hold it against you).
a little reflection...
never hurt anyone,
did it?
a little reflection...
in a little-too-dusty mirror.

days fade

into a mélange
of repeated words
and overstated
understatements.

people fade
into an exasperated muddle
of lost thoughts
and misdirected
misconceptions.

alas,

life fades
into a chaotic jumble
of what could have been,
and what is not,
and in the end
...
oh,
to hell with it all,
anyway.

Caustic

a hand
runs
across the
base
of my neck...
foul
thoughts swell in the
dark
crevices of a tainted
reality...
was it i?
who brought down the
mountains...
i, like a
fool
in a sea of
undying
regrets and
insurpassable
memories of a time that
was
and no longer
is?
tie me
to the axis of a
flawed
world in which i have
no memory of
right
and wrong;
no recollection of
good
and evil,
and where
inhibitions
are the playthings of a
long-lost
past...
tie me...
to the spokes
of your
ever-changing
what was...

1/14/08

These, my love, are not the times you write down:
I've waded too far out,
into too deep waters,
Chasing a vanishing dream.
Don't fret, my love--
you did not fret then,
when my heart was pounding in my heaving breast.
No, I feel it still--
you do not think me so hard as that, do you?
(That's not it.)
I was wading, wading in the heavy current
...and you were my destination, you were...
But the current swept me away,
Body displaced from soul
Carrying out deed displaced from will,
but it's all the same, anyway...
you were never coming back.
Break me down--
into bricks, for the building blocks of a
new destiny,
vested in me, the future, and no "us" present
for the burning of bridges:
I've done that before...
and a Brickmaker is not in the business of
rebuilding burnt bridges.
If I have learned anything,
O, let it be that.

The Last of Broken Sunrises (3/5/08)

I watched as she rode in from the east,
like a shadow of ill omen,
casting darkness over a multi-colored sunrise.
Was it always like this?
I don't think so, I don't think so.
She just woke up like that one day.
Sometimes,
you can see her riding across the horizon,
her golden hair ablaze,
bringing light into the world,
chasing the moon.
Who was it that opened Pandora's box?
It wasn't on fire...
it wasn't on fire, she let her
amber tears fall all across Europe she
let them fall and fall and she found him
in the end she let out
Hope? like blades of grass that cut like paper-
mâché people and
in the end she's
--what?
full of doubt and an air of
emptiness and fear mingled with
thunder rolling in the distance with all the rains that
won't come and wash away a gentle
clamor in her steadily-beating chest while her
mind runs rampant and she doesn't know any more
if she can be that girl that she wants to be who
ushers in the sunlight while the
night hugs her back and makes her
skin damp and cold while everyone is watching
if she falls
if she falls
they are watching, but she just
wants to be a girl who is,
in the end she is
tries to be a girl who is
always, always, she is
stronger.

oui, j'ai dit que je t'aime

so tell me you’re red
fading to yellow
fading to green
fading
into me…
so careless
liberated
à l’aise
And me, I’m:
. ; ,,,
Punctuated.
Scared.
Uncertain.
Fading.
From green.
To yellow.
To red.
Out of you.
and you’re holding on
regardless
I guess that’s why,
among other things,
I love you.

(oui, j’ai dit que je t’aime.)

2/12/08

Baked
in an ephemeral state
(i know, i know)
...it's passing...

like a moon-lit tide,
fading in
and out
of the horizon.

She took my hand,
but it's slipping...
(sometimes, sometimes i slip, too)

...I'm trying
as hard as I can
to hold on.

"C'est pas si grave que ça, ma belle..."
(je sais, je sais)

...just a little longer
on the edge.

you took my hand

and asked:
why?
i said:
eventually smiles and
secret glances
no longer matter.
eventually,
it's not enough.
you asked:
why?
and, choking on the tears in my throat,
i said:
because eventually time goes on
and sunlit days spent in shadow
are no longer satisfying.
eventually,
it's not enough.
you said:
but i thought we
--no.
YOU.
yes, YOU.
i bolded those letters.
and mounted them high on a mantle piece in my heart.
i carved them carefully. attentively. lovingly.
so as not to,
in any way,
smear your beautiful name.
so as not to,
in any way,
ruin you.
you said:
we--
i said:
no, you.
you asked, pathetically:
why...?
and i said, finally:
eventually,
i want you to remember me
and know
that eventually
...it's not enough.

Rocky Road Thirties

No,
I won’t be your
thirty-five-year-old
regret,
drowning in
rocky road and old
black and white movies.
I won’t be your
stay-at-home-mom
swimming in
old jogging suits and
age-old tennis shoes.
I won’t be your
one-stop-shop
for years and years of
lost chances
and broken-hearted goodbyes
to lost dreams, selves, and
what-could-have-been’s.
No,
I won’t be yours
at all.