| February 12 2000 |
[06 Nov 2009|03:50am] |
Dear Juliet,
Its been a long time since we last spoke. You've been dead for how many years now? My count says ten years ago. Holy hell that is a long time. Remember how young I was? I was just a little kid but you treated me like an equal, a friend even. I took out your garbage and brought you your mail and you talked with me about everything under the sun; philosophy, technology, life anything that my mind could come up with(and in rapid succession most likely)
I wonder what you'd think of me now. I wonder if who I am would please you. I still write poetry, though it is a lot darker than the poem I wrote for you. Your son probably still has a copy of the poem I wrote for you. I remember your funeral like it was yesterday, and I still wish there was a grave to go visit.
Enough of that though, remember the summer spent on the porch and you taught me about the different plants on your porch and we marveled over then one that shot its seeds out of these little coiled pods. I remember the laughter of that day.
I'm 21 now and my life has taking a turn on its head. I lost someone dear to me and my father died of AIDS this summer. Shes still alive but he isn't. Its totally screwed up, you should've seen it. How much I look like him. But beyond all of that though I'm trying to live up to the potential you said you saw in me.
I just wanted to say thank you, and that I'll never forget you, old friend. You shaped who i grew up to be. I'm sorry my sisters ruined your lord of the rings books.
And, I know its cliche, but if you're still floating around the summerlands and you see my father(you'll know him because I look just like him.) introduce yourself and explain who you were.
Thank You, I'm going to give my first daughter your name in some way or another. I hope my children are so lucky to meet someone who treats them like you treated me.
-Dan
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| push |
[28 Oct 2009|02:23am] |
Push me dear
I wanna fly
Til I float in terminal
Push me dear
cradle me in steel
capture me in celluloid
push me
push me
push me dear
I thought you were immortal.
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[15 Oct 2009|02:28am] |
I never fucking abused you.
Never.
You've hit me more times than I can count.
Tore me down more times then I care to remember
and all I did was try to lift you up. keep you happy. and make sure you succeeded.
If you want to demonize me, use my mistakes. Don't make shit up.
You know, sure as fuck, I was never abusive.
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[14 Sep 2009|12:23pm] |
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I should've known better than to trust you.
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[02 Sep 2009|02:26pm] |
Admit it,
you have no idea what you are doing. If you could look at the problems that lie ahead instead of ignoring them. You'd know that you've made a mistake.
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[28 Aug 2009|02:53am] |
"I sit down in my ugly place and build walls out of fragments from my
past of all the people that I needed and loved that walked away."
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[04 Aug 2009|05:26pm] |
I'm not content to wait for karma.
wait and see
wraiths will become the haunted
sins get paid their due
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[30 Jul 2009|11:54pm] |
the man I barely knew.
scratch that did not know.
is dead.
my father.
from AIDS.
how terrifying is that?
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[12 Jul 2009|11:19am] |
Brown and green
that forest is no more
the fire burned
and still embers linger
arson it may have been
but the green mosses never left
and now are bathed in light from the blue sky
no one destroys the sky
this wood may never again regain its trees
but it will have the blue sky
green and blue
like the prairie and the great sky.
like the sea which spreads forever
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[08 Jul 2009|06:12pm] |
drop your mask, my love
let the music fill your body
the rhythm and sweeping melodies become your blood
think not of the dead men left behind
those who screamed for a love they'd never see again
just dance
feel the chords move down your arms
the drum beats become your steps
don't lose focus, little girl
or you will surely fall
and the ground will swallow you whole
dress and bells and all
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[07 Jul 2009|11:46am] |
A child tears the wings off a butterfly
if that butterfly were human: would it tear the wings off a butterfly?
selfish selfish never learning
tiring of rhetoric
sleepless nights
bleeding lips
burning eyes.
She tore off your wings
you broke my legs
my wings were born malformed
think about the child
think about the girl
A fly does not learn by mistakes
one step into a spider's web
its over
its over
fly becomes food.
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| Natural progressions tearing lines and empty spirals |
[06 Jul 2009|09:09pm] |
FIRE fire fIRE
running faster through your veins
from glands spoken through many different names
Shakespearean verses and vocabulary archaic
I cannot burn the words you say
I cannot even burn the air you breath[nor the books you read]
FIRE FIRE FIRE
you lit this forest fire
watch
as I fan the flames
[some days our controlled burns are like crushed pills]
SMOKE FIRE FIRE
twitching crawling microbe
dragging itself along the muck
equivocation in its words
and lust and hatred
[no, not sin] in its blood
FIRE FIRE FIRE
Verses become amphigouri
when sand flows beyond it
if you stare into the sun you become blind
SMOKE SMOKE FIRE
watch the moon turn yellow
after starbursts upon the air
run as your shadow is over taken
hide amongst the trees
[THEY'RE COMING THEY'RE COMING]
RUN RUN FROM THE FIRE
the footsteps in the burning sand
hastily throwing trails
no one can hide their trail
upon these flowing sands
contrary to the teachings of sages and charlatans
BLOOD SMOKE FIRE
they'll smell the blood
you cannot wash it from your knives
in your gums
the shards of glass you spread around
Natural progression and ever widening spirals
you may be rotting
scavengers are circling
but will your yellowed keys expose?
how long until laughter stops?
arrows bullets bombs and forest fires
fan the flames
fan the flames
throw the fuel
send the dogs
walk away
FIRE FIRE FIRE
screaming into the yellowed moon
chipped piano keys
SMOKE SMOLDER SMOKE
Rise from the ashes?
verse becomes amphigouri
sage becomes corpse
SPARK SMOKE FIRE
SMOKE SMOKE ASH
running hands through ash
not the same
as running with hands open
running with hands in prayer
screams are songs of wicked
fireworks are mortal thunder
we are ashes
I am bone knives
you are mud and dreck of landfill floors.
fire fire fire
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| I'll reuse the words on someone worth more than you. |
[03 Jul 2009|12:52am] |
Things are changing.
and don't get me wrong, I'm still the same motherfucker who'll tear your throat out.
don't sweat that.
((I attempt to keep my promises))
You aren't, haven't and will never again be worth my time.
keep your friends, your songs, your drinks, and your smoke.
Maybe one day we can pass each other in the street and not recognize each other.
That is the best that can be hoped for.
This is the last note I'll ever write to you.
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| What even sand cannot shift |
[16 Jun 2009|11:29pm] |
and there you circled me
trailing limbs that circumscribe
your alchemy upon the sand
withering wings
under orange sky
the sky of fire
like those days
How do you fly?
your bones are bleaching
yet you still circle
you try to screech
dust issues forth
you haven't the strength to cough.
you climbed as high as you could go
so high your wings couldn't take you anymore
you climbed the rungs
of that black spire's ladder
sun drenched bars
tore skin from your palms
"But what if I fall?"
you called down to me from above
never knowing
I'd swing you back onto the spire
and fall to my death before I'd let you fall
you muffled your cries
even as the sun burnt your head
you climbed toward the sun
the towers that broke
those suffocating clouds
the clouds that obscured the sky
that could never destroy the sun
we climbed higher further
you began to tire
I felt it within my soul.
and I closed my eyes
to catch the darkness
an imagined reprieve from the ever-glaring sun.
and there you were
at the base of the spire
circling
legs dragging in the sand.
you hadn't fallen
there was no crater
yet somehow you were down below.
I could climb no further
as my soul was tied to yours.
so I sat
for a thousand years
making symbols in the sand
barely taking time to block out the sun anymore.
I watched
as the bones in your hands bleached
your hair fell from your scalp
the vultures climbed down the tower
but would not touch your form
Delirium had begun to take me
[a millenium writing letters to yourself will do that]
I thought you were the vanguard of carrion eaters.
500 more years had passed
the vultures began to eat things that fell
I smiled as I watched them fight
the first smile in an eternity
for the scavengers had something to fight for
I lost myself in the little games they played
never realizing
my bones were not bleaching
my hair still stayed upon my head
I was sore
my hair matted
my words had begun to stay upon the sand
the sunlight that reflected off my eyes
had turned sand to glass
tiny diamonds
that would cut the skin of any newcomer
but there weren't any here
I held one up to the light
it was the most perfect thing I had ever seen
I felt blood began to run down my throat
when one does not speak for millenia
and no water passes between your lips
you may as well not have a mouth.
I pressed the crystal into my skin
it hurt
but it stayed
and I could create rainbows
with a flick of my wrist.
after admiring the sunlight
reflecting off
the most precious thing I'd created.
I began to hear a song.
I still don't know if I heard anything.
for I'd not heard anything
I was focused on your feet shifting
every grain of sand
at one time
I could hear everything
one day the sound cut out
this was not the silence before a crack of thunder
it was silence.
I heard a song
or perhaps I felt it
I listened to the faint ringing
for so long
it was telling me stand.
I got to my knees
and sand worked its way into my eyes
as I fell.
the song grew louder
and I could hear the flapping of wings.
I saw no tempests
no great clouds of locusts
Only subtly shifting orange sky
and the never changing sun.
I struggled to my feet
unsteady like the hopping scavengers
that I lived vicariously through.
My face toward the sky
I dropped my arms
on the balls of my feet
I stretched toward the sky
bathing in the darkness of my cold eyes
the sun
it felt cool
it was not burning me
even as I brought my face ever closer to the sun
these would have seemed like pointless inches
I was a billion grains of sand
closer to the sun.
it did not burn
as I began to feel the aeons melt off of me
My arms became lithe again
I felt no urge to write
strange symbols in the sand
cryptic poetry that only the wind would read
it felt like nightfall in my mind
I sang into the heavens
hoarse
coughing dust
straining
when forever had come and gone a single note issued from my chest
and the song wrapped around it
playing like leaves
around the trees in some ancient forest
I cannot ever explain the beauty
of grass when all you've known is sand
I lifted my feet again
struggled toward that spire again
in the time that passed
even the unchanging spires
that the gods themselves
had used to render this land fallow
had changed
strange markings
looked drawn by slithering of snakes
I gripped a bar and pulled myself aloft
my vision began to fade
I swooned
but didn't fall
the spires which used to burn
felt good in my palms
I climbed higher
toward that beautiful song.
I kept climbing higher and higher
I have no idea how long I climbed
it was slow
and my muscles
which felt no pain before
felt as if they were going to tear themselves from my bones
I finally felt the need to rest
I hung by my weaker arm
and let the darkness fill my soul again
it was then that I was able to cast
my gaze upon where I had sat
I saw my post and
the strange lines
that I had drawn so many times
that even the shifting of the sands could not erase them.
I followed a path out from that point
A line started in the sand that puzzled me
I followed it for miles
I could have skipped from line to line
but I followed it
this empty spiral
until I reached your feet
pushing the sand like the wake of a vast ship.
but at least the ship moved with purpose
a ship seemed to have a soul
I do not know what carried you.
my eyes refocused
in all that time
you had gotten farther away from me
spiralled slowly away
with new eyes
I barely recognized you anymore
I watched
as bleached bone wings
beat lazily
yet held you aloft
[if you could call it that]
you were moving further away
I doubt it mattered to you anymore
I doubt much mattered to you.
you moved so slow I never noticed
I look upon the festering sores
the bleached bits of skull poking through
the sparse locks of hair that adorn your head
like the first moss after a forest fire.
I watch pieces of skin still fall
as you inscribe your spiral into this desert
and I feel
I feel nothing
not emptiness but nothing
the song becomes so loud I nearly fall from the spire
as my attention focuses upward
it becomes soft and beautiful again
and I hear the vague flapping of wings again
I climbed higher than you had before you fell
finding bits of your skin and fingerprints
along the way
I found a place
carved by some wonderful traveler
in which I could sit.
I found a quill and page
with a note
"tell your story and say your goodbyes"
I grasped a page
words stabbed my mind
cut at my soul
"and cast your regrets from this tower"
said the unspoken words the wise travel had imbued
into those pages.
So here
I write these words
symbols that perhaps a weary traveler can understand
if they can feel my story.
that beautiful song grows louder.
He stood on the edge
his eyes closed to feel the breeze
he could see a spiral that stretched out into the distance
a wretched wraith its pen
he let the breeze take the page
heartfelt words
and a story of millenia passing
with eyes open
but no experience.
the parchment spiraled around the tower
before the north wind took a fancy to his written words
the page seemed to stay still
and then flew with unmeasurable speed
past the strange lines
past the spiral
and the rotting wraith
past a distant shifting cloud
past an immense mountain range
past the horizon into the only darkness in this land.
He began to sing.
not of the past but to the future
with words he could not yet understand
and cared not.
His words were as the page upon the wind.
as he climbed toward the song.
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[16 Jun 2009|01:07am] |
I shan't destroy you
I shan't take anyone's name(yet)
You'll do it for yourself
and die in anonymity
[night is coming find a gutter or the wolves will eat you whole]
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[11 Jun 2009|01:12am] |
Come with me
through the pits of fire
the frozen lakes with jealous men
frozen to up to their necks
do not laugh at their open wounds
as they chew the fat of their lovers and friends
you do not want to reside here
do not avert your eyes
from this path that lies ahead
and the cut brambles we left behind
I need your eyes
to stay alive
look towards the flames
and we'll see the stars.
soon we'll ...
where the moon does fear to rest her head
the darkness will envelop us
we'll speak not a word
the rare wind will speak volumes of poetry
the flames
will dance distantly upon your skin
dancing like the spark which lights your eyes
a fire that does not disturb this darkness
a fire like that of the stars
....
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[03 Jun 2009|10:34am] |
yo te la juro
lo van a pagar
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[16 May 2009|12:26pm] |
sometimes I forget that College is a strange place.
I still cannot believe that I said
"3 words"
"God Hates Fags"
in front of an auditorium of people and was able to use that as a valid argument.
College is a strange place.
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| Gretchen was a temptress, Beatrice a concubine, and Helen a leper. |
[12 May 2009|02:13am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 contemplative |
] |
What do the fates want from me?
this scarred heart?
memories of deaths and loves?
will they thwart the paths I try to take?
make me remember that:
nothing can ever be owned.
I want to stare into those heavens
where Beatrice lay, peaceful and calm
Where Gretchen remembers not, her pain
those clouds closed long ago.
I chase those filtered rays
that touch a human heart upon this earth
but above me is grey diffusion.
There is nothing I'd like more
than to stare into the grey eyes
of Armatt or
to hold the cold hand of Barbelo.
and feel the crystalline light of Beatrice
or see the face of Helen
through a thousand tiny mirrors
I lay,
like the winged hunter
chained by fate
I cannot remember life on the wing
though a great wisdom once told me
no pleasure could match.
I once sat in front of their moon
as it fell behind those peaks
the night was cold
absent of fear
where is Gretchen now?
is she in heaven?
or right beside me
covered in blood from injured wing.
They told me not to look.
I dare not
If I don't know where I'm going
they cannot take it from me
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