How should I know? The enormous wheels of will
Drove me cold-eyed on tired and sleepless feet.
Night was void arms and you a phantom still,
And day your far light swaying down the street.
As never fool for love, I starved for you;
My throat was dry and my eyes hot to see.
Your mouth so lying was most heaven in view,
And your remembered smell most agony.
Love wakens love! I felt your hot wrist shiver
And suddenly the mad victory I planned
Flashed real, in your burning bending head...
My conqueror’s blood was cool as a deep river
In shadow; and my heart beneath your hand
Quieter than a dead man on a bed.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Sex...
Sex
by Michael Ryan
After the earth finally touches the sun,
and the long explosion stops suddenly
like a heart run down,
the world might seem white and quiet
to something that watches it in the sky at night,
so something might feel small,
and feel nearly human pain.
But it won't happen again:
the long nights wasted alone, what's done
in doorways in the dark by the young,
and what could have been for some.
Think of all the lovers and the friends!
Who does not gather his portion of them
to himself. at least in his mind?
Sex eased through everyone,
even when slipping into death
as into a beloved's skin,
and prying out again to find
the body slumped, muscles slack.
and bones begun their turn to dust.
Then no one minds when one lover
holds another, like an unloaded sack.
But the truth enters at the end of life.
It enters like oxygen into every cell
and the madness it feeds there in some
is only a lucid metaphor
for something long burned to nothing,
like a star.
How do you get under your desire?
How do you peel away each desire
like ponderous clothes, one at a time,
until what's underneath is known?
We knew genitals as small things
and we were ashamed they led us around,
even if the hill where we'd lie down
was the same hill the universe unfolded upon
all night, as we watched the stars,
when for once our breathing seemed to blend.
Each time, from that sweet pressure
of hands, or the great relief of the mouth,
a person can be led out of himself
Isn't it lonely in the body?
The myth says we ooze about as spirits
until there's a body made to take us,
and only flesh is created by sex.
That's why we enter sex so relentlessly,
toward the pleasure that comes
when we push down far enough
to nudge the spirit rising to release,
and the pleasure is pleasure of pure spirit,
for a moment all together again.
So sex returns us to beginning, and we moan.
Pure sex becomes specific and concrete
in a caress of breast or slope of waist:
it flies through itself like light, it sails
on nothing like a wing, when someone's there
to be touched, when there's nothing wrong.
So the actual is touched in sex,
like a breast through cloth: the actual
rising plump and real, the mind
darting about it like a tongue.
This is where I wanted to be all along:
up in the world, in touch with myself. . .
Sex, invisible priestess of a good God,
I think without you I might just spin off.
I know there's no keeping you close,
as you flick by underneath a sentence
on a train, or transform the last thought
of an old nun, or withdraw for one moment alone.
Who tells you what to do or ties you down!
I'd give up the rest to suck your dark lips.
I'd give up the rest to fix you exact
in the universe, at the wildest edge
where there's no such thing as shape.
What a shame I am, if reaching the right person
in a dim room, sex holds itself apart
from us like an angel in an afterlife,
and, with the ideas no one has even dreamed,
it wails its odd music for pure mind.
After there's nothing,
after the big blow-up of the whole shebang,
what voice from what throat
will tell me who I am? Each throat
on which I would have quietly set my lips
will be ripped like a cheap sleeve
or blown apart like the stopped-up
barrel of a gun. What was inside them
all the time I wanted always
to rest my mouth upon?
I thought most everything
stuck dartlike in the half-dome of my brain,
and hung there like fake stars in a planetarium.
It's true that things there changed into names,
that even the people I loved were a bunch of signs,
so I felt most often alone.
This is a way to stay alive and nothing to bemoan.
We know the first time we extend an arm:
the body reaches so far for so long.
We grow and love to grow, then stop, then lie down.
I wanted to bear inside me this tender outcome.
I wanted to know if it made sex happen:
does it show up surely in touch and talk?
does it leak from the mind, as heat from the skin?
I wanted my touching intelligent, like a beautiful song.
by Michael Ryan
After the earth finally touches the sun,
and the long explosion stops suddenly
like a heart run down,
the world might seem white and quiet
to something that watches it in the sky at night,
so something might feel small,
and feel nearly human pain.
But it won't happen again:
the long nights wasted alone, what's done
in doorways in the dark by the young,
and what could have been for some.
Think of all the lovers and the friends!
Who does not gather his portion of them
to himself. at least in his mind?
Sex eased through everyone,
even when slipping into death
as into a beloved's skin,
and prying out again to find
the body slumped, muscles slack.
and bones begun their turn to dust.
Then no one minds when one lover
holds another, like an unloaded sack.
But the truth enters at the end of life.
It enters like oxygen into every cell
and the madness it feeds there in some
is only a lucid metaphor
for something long burned to nothing,
like a star.
How do you get under your desire?
How do you peel away each desire
like ponderous clothes, one at a time,
until what's underneath is known?
We knew genitals as small things
and we were ashamed they led us around,
even if the hill where we'd lie down
was the same hill the universe unfolded upon
all night, as we watched the stars,
when for once our breathing seemed to blend.
Each time, from that sweet pressure
of hands, or the great relief of the mouth,
a person can be led out of himself
Isn't it lonely in the body?
The myth says we ooze about as spirits
until there's a body made to take us,
and only flesh is created by sex.
That's why we enter sex so relentlessly,
toward the pleasure that comes
when we push down far enough
to nudge the spirit rising to release,
and the pleasure is pleasure of pure spirit,
for a moment all together again.
So sex returns us to beginning, and we moan.
Pure sex becomes specific and concrete
in a caress of breast or slope of waist:
it flies through itself like light, it sails
on nothing like a wing, when someone's there
to be touched, when there's nothing wrong.
So the actual is touched in sex,
like a breast through cloth: the actual
rising plump and real, the mind
darting about it like a tongue.
This is where I wanted to be all along:
up in the world, in touch with myself. . .
Sex, invisible priestess of a good God,
I think without you I might just spin off.
I know there's no keeping you close,
as you flick by underneath a sentence
on a train, or transform the last thought
of an old nun, or withdraw for one moment alone.
Who tells you what to do or ties you down!
I'd give up the rest to suck your dark lips.
I'd give up the rest to fix you exact
in the universe, at the wildest edge
where there's no such thing as shape.
What a shame I am, if reaching the right person
in a dim room, sex holds itself apart
from us like an angel in an afterlife,
and, with the ideas no one has even dreamed,
it wails its odd music for pure mind.
After there's nothing,
after the big blow-up of the whole shebang,
what voice from what throat
will tell me who I am? Each throat
on which I would have quietly set my lips
will be ripped like a cheap sleeve
or blown apart like the stopped-up
barrel of a gun. What was inside them
all the time I wanted always
to rest my mouth upon?
I thought most everything
stuck dartlike in the half-dome of my brain,
and hung there like fake stars in a planetarium.
It's true that things there changed into names,
that even the people I loved were a bunch of signs,
so I felt most often alone.
This is a way to stay alive and nothing to bemoan.
We know the first time we extend an arm:
the body reaches so far for so long.
We grow and love to grow, then stop, then lie down.
I wanted to bear inside me this tender outcome.
I wanted to know if it made sex happen:
does it show up surely in touch and talk?
does it leak from the mind, as heat from the skin?
I wanted my touching intelligent, like a beautiful song.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
The Maintenance Man
Do you remember the machine the way I do?
How it drives towards the horizon
beyond the vanishing point that I can't even make out
The machine that struggles to quench its thirst with sips from a
smoldering sun,
a copper pendant that dangles between its breast.
Wire weave spider webs over the open mouths of pipes
that run and dive around landscapes
clouded by plumes of gray smoke that threaten to sew shut our
eyes,
that stretch for miles and miles of titanium highway.
When he descends on us,
all the parts of the machine,
we do not move.
Not a single red bulb lights.
There is no siren's song
to distract him from this job at hand.
Everywhere
there is a sound
of screws that shake in their bolts,
the low whir of belts that caress the wheel,
valves that warm hands over spark plug crackles.
He traces his fingertips over our iron flesh,
run them in and out of spokes.
There is no Love in his smile like the way
I've seen chain tenderly spoon gear.
There is no hatred in his Eyes
like the dull pummel of piston's fist against cylinder.
I have watched him forever
as he sails his very small boat astern of mine
not because I am the best sailor,
but because I don't know how to describe the wind.
I am no thief in clever disguise,
just another component with no capacity for uprise.
He laughs at me,
and begins
to strip me of my plastic coating,
peels back my skin
so nicely
that I can see the reflection of muscle and sinew across his pupil,
methodically works his way over my body
and listens to every chunk of flesh
slap against the ground.
There is no pain
when he splits my face down the middle
and cracks open my cheek.
He leaves me naked,
unnamed,
a well-oiled machine,
just the inner systems of a body
happy to be rid of her plastic coating,
and hands me this memory perdu to nestle somewhere between
unconscious creation and deja vu.
Then he ask me something I've heard before.
"Which one?"
he says.
"Choose."
And he points out
lion's roar, rainbow trout, cicada,
farmer's crop, hot wind, mouthful of cold water.
But there's something in his voice
that I seem to understand from before
that in choice there is chance,
and though he says
no one has ever succeeded
I take my chances,
and choose
human.
How it drives towards the horizon
beyond the vanishing point that I can't even make out
The machine that struggles to quench its thirst with sips from a
smoldering sun,
a copper pendant that dangles between its breast.
Wire weave spider webs over the open mouths of pipes
that run and dive around landscapes
clouded by plumes of gray smoke that threaten to sew shut our
eyes,
that stretch for miles and miles of titanium highway.
When he descends on us,
all the parts of the machine,
we do not move.
Not a single red bulb lights.
There is no siren's song
to distract him from this job at hand.
Everywhere
there is a sound
of screws that shake in their bolts,
the low whir of belts that caress the wheel,
valves that warm hands over spark plug crackles.
He traces his fingertips over our iron flesh,
run them in and out of spokes.
There is no Love in his smile like the way
I've seen chain tenderly spoon gear.
There is no hatred in his Eyes
like the dull pummel of piston's fist against cylinder.
I have watched him forever
as he sails his very small boat astern of mine
not because I am the best sailor,
but because I don't know how to describe the wind.
I am no thief in clever disguise,
just another component with no capacity for uprise.
He laughs at me,
and begins
to strip me of my plastic coating,
peels back my skin
so nicely
that I can see the reflection of muscle and sinew across his pupil,
methodically works his way over my body
and listens to every chunk of flesh
slap against the ground.
There is no pain
when he splits my face down the middle
and cracks open my cheek.
He leaves me naked,
unnamed,
a well-oiled machine,
just the inner systems of a body
happy to be rid of her plastic coating,
and hands me this memory perdu to nestle somewhere between
unconscious creation and deja vu.
Then he ask me something I've heard before.
"Which one?"
he says.
"Choose."
And he points out
lion's roar, rainbow trout, cicada,
farmer's crop, hot wind, mouthful of cold water.
But there's something in his voice
that I seem to understand from before
that in choice there is chance,
and though he says
no one has ever succeeded
I take my chances,
and choose
human.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Untitled Post 1
Happiness / hit her / like a train on a track
Coming towards her / stuck still / no turning back
She hid around corners / and she hid under beds /
She killed it with kisses and from it she fled /
With every bubble she sank with a drink /
And washed it away down the kitchen sink.
Run fast for your mother; run fast for your father /
Run for your children all your sisters and brothers /
Leave all your love and your longing behind.
You can't carry it with you / if you want to survive
Happiness / hit her / like a bullet in the back
Struck from /a great height
Coming towards her / stuck still / no turning back
She hid around corners / and she hid under beds /
She killed it with kisses and from it she fled /
With every bubble she sank with a drink /
And washed it away down the kitchen sink.
Run fast for your mother; run fast for your father /
Run for your children all your sisters and brothers /
Leave all your love and your longing behind.
You can't carry it with you / if you want to survive
Happiness / hit her / like a bullet in the back
Struck from /a great height
The dog days are over /
The dog days are done /
Can you hear the horses/
'Cos here they come
Thursday, November 18, 2010
The End is Near, yet My Beginning is Coming (I can Smell it, as Roughly as Your Öld Man Cologne)
I am Leaving for once.
Goddamn how long it has been
i am willing to extrude in a New city
i am going to do things You only dream of
I am getting wet just thinking of it
I Leave one to find Another
I am deeply sorrowed
This city only brings Doubt
Gay
Smell
Pity
Pathetic Nature
I met someone today
i will meet him again once I return
He has no Fuckin idea what is in store
I grin
You will notice my Hair has changed.
Red
Bright
Red
Like my ass after a good Cockspanking
I can't wait
I'm leaving to find my Meaning
I smile as i write that
Sober
The only thing I am leaving behind this Winter is my Dignity
The worshiping of a God that has never shown you nor I pity
Lets trade thoughts
Smile
Your End is just beginning where Mine has already passed...
I'll see you soon
Wish me Luck Dear Friend.
Be good
Keep your Legs Closed
All my Love
Slice
Goddamn how long it has been
i am willing to extrude in a New city
i am going to do things You only dream of
I am getting wet just thinking of it
I Leave one to find Another
I am deeply sorrowed
This city only brings Doubt
Gay
Smell
Pity
Pathetic Nature
I met someone today
i will meet him again once I return
He has no Fuckin idea what is in store
I grin
You will notice my Hair has changed.
Red
Bright
Red
Like my ass after a good Cockspanking
I can't wait
I'm leaving to find my Meaning
I smile as i write that
Sober
The only thing I am leaving behind this Winter is my Dignity
The worshiping of a God that has never shown you nor I pity
Lets trade thoughts
Smile
Your End is just beginning where Mine has already passed...
I'll see you soon
Wish me Luck Dear Friend.
Be good
Keep your Legs Closed
All my Love
Slice
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
WED Eve (Part 2)
The rope that's wrapped around me
I'll be such a very good friend
Have mercy on my soul
I will never let you know
Where my mind has been......
I will not touch upon your grace
Your ecclesiastic skin
If I whisper they will know
I'll just turn around and go
You will never know my sin
Is cutting through my skin
And the doubts that have surrounded me
Are finding their way in
I keep it close to me
Like a holy man prays
In my desperate hour
It's better that way
So I'll come by and see you again
I'll be such a very good friend
Have mercy on my soul
I will never let you know
Where my mind has been......
I've crept into your temple
I have slept upon your pew
I've dreamed of the divinity
Inside and out of you
I want it more than truth
I can taste it on my breath
I would give my life just for a little death
I will not look upon your face
I will not touch upon your grace
Your ecclesiastic skin
If I whisper they will know
I'll just turn around and go
You will never know my sin
WED Eve
oh, the Solitude
The never ending need to not be alone
sitting here
Dinner again, for one
My mind is the only thing that speaks to me
Step out of the body
Loose the mind
Take control of all that is left behind....
Technology lies
Anything that can be plugged into the wall is not worth calling a "friend"
Why can you not hear me?
I'm screaming in Silence at the Top of my Lungs
What I have left of them
Please
Party for one....
The never ending need to not be alone
sitting here
Dinner again, for one
My mind is the only thing that speaks to me
Step out of the body
Loose the mind
Take control of all that is left behind....
Technology lies
Anything that can be plugged into the wall is not worth calling a "friend"
Why can you not hear me?
I'm screaming in Silence at the Top of my Lungs
What I have left of them
Please
Party for one....
Monday, November 1, 2010
Mother, Masturbation is only Temporary
I am generating Heat.
I touch My face and it Burns.
She filled you with Fear
Sin.
I burn
Let me in
Where is this all coming From?
Why am I feeling like this?
Why are you feeling like this?
Show me your passion
Your Heat
Your Desire
Do you have any left?
Why is there a need?
What happened to controlling it?
Its curiosity.
I'm being Selfish once again....
Its just skin.
Its meant for this
Touching
Licking
Scratching
Wiping your Tears
Rendering you incapable of Moving
Disposing of what you think your Mother wants you to be
What she wants You to be
I'm not Mocking you
I'm generating your Pulse
Fuck your consequences
Regrets are a waste of Passion
Regrets are a waste of the Mind
Regrets are a waste of your time.
My time.
What was my name Again?
This is me being Nice.
The Door is Open....
Tonight, I feel so Weak
Signed,
"The Devil's Daughter"
I touch My face and it Burns.
She filled you with Fear
Sin.
I burn
Let me in
Where is this all coming From?
Why am I feeling like this?
Why are you feeling like this?
Show me your passion
Your Heat
Your Desire
Do you have any left?
Why is there a need?
What happened to controlling it?
Its curiosity.
I'm being Selfish once again....
Its just skin.
Its meant for this
Touching
Licking
Scratching
Wiping your Tears
Rendering you incapable of Moving
Disposing of what you think your Mother wants you to be
What she wants You to be
I'm not Mocking you
I'm generating your Pulse
Fuck your consequences
Regrets are a waste of Passion
Regrets are a waste of the Mind
Regrets are a waste of your time.
My time.
What was my name Again?
This is me being Nice.
The Door is Open....
Tonight, I feel so Weak
Signed,
(GRINDING) In the Classy Way, of Course....
I'm Wet.
I keep thinking of You.
Not you.
You.
Touch me that Once and everything else is all hazy.
I want you.
Again.
I can't keep doing this alone.
It's getting Boring.
Rubbing
Fasting
Rubbing
Holding the pillow over my head.
No one else is in this room.
Be careful not to wake the Children
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9 Times
Well baby I give it up
it's you I could choose
don't keep me waiting
This girl's got things she needs to do
Speak on it
tell me what you need
Can't stop my mind from thinking of you
Got me feelin' for your lips on my kiss
my lower Hips
Can Not stop throbbing
Release Me
Now
All night
pour it all over me
I can't explain
can't comprehend
Finish What You Started
I keep thinking of You.
Not you.
You.
Touch me that Once and everything else is all hazy.
I want you.
Again.
I can't keep doing this alone.
It's getting Boring.
Rubbing
Fasting
Rubbing
Holding the pillow over my head.
No one else is in this room.
Be careful not to wake the Children
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9 Times
I guess I'm picky with fucking
Well baby I give it up
it's you I could choose
don't keep me waiting
This girl's got things she needs to do
Speak on it
tell me what you need
Put your hands on me baby
Can't stop my mind from thinking of you
How am I supposed to function
Got me feelin' for your lips on my kiss
my lower Hips
Can Not stop throbbing
Release Me
Now
All night
I'm hungry
I want and I need
pour it all over me
Up till now my eyes could see
Touch me once and it's all hazy
I don't know why and I don't know how
But somehow some way you got me
I can't explain
can't comprehend
Finish What You Started
Sunday, October 31, 2010
QUICKIE...
I am loosing my Mind. So is my Bed. where. I lay. The knocking the screaming. the excitement. The Laughter. The gnawing. The Last breath that comes right after you finish. The everlasting Sleep.
I miss this..
I miss this..
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Dinner for one.....
bury me deep. deep in the sand. would you like the honors? its coming. no need to get sad. you will have plenty of time to think about this once i am gone. am i worried? no. i never wanted a funeral. i always wanted a pool party instead. i hate the water. i want people to rejoice. play. be happy. make Love. your sadness makes me sad. i am not sad. you should not be either. the things that have happened have happened for a reason. we started dying the minute we were born. some of us faster than others. im going somewhere far away.simple things will matter. the wind in my hair. the sun on my skin. the breath in my lungs. the slightest touch. the everlasting kiss. its somewhere close. somewhere where words mean nothing. the written word means nothing. all of this will pass. time heals Everything. there will be people there lovely as ever before. they will laugh with me. dream with me. they want to start over again just as i do. the no need for drugs anymore. no need for Help anymore. no need for pity. lost. lost no more. look back in Silence. i so wished i would have done things differently. well not really. im a fighter. i fight. Hard. so many things i would have changed. this part of Life is over. nothing is easy. i broke my Vow. long ago. we all can start again. all of us can be Young once more. there comes a point in life where you just have to accept things for the way they Play out. the sign was there and you walked right past it. look up. its all around you. be patient. enjoy what is around you. enjoy the bad. learn from it. walk away but never forget. Smile.... something better is waiting for You...
dig
dig
dig
dig
dig
Dig
I wish you could see this smile on my Lips....
I can't think of anymore to Say...
dig
dig
dig
dig
dig
Dig
I wish you could see this smile on my Lips....
I can't think of anymore to Say...
Sunday, October 24, 2010
LIFe as I see IT
Live he said LIVE!
So i did.
I'm trying everyday to stay ALive..
The first man i ever fell in love with was when i was three. i remember being outside in the hot July sun in my kiddy pool, lying there, almost dead in excitement. His name was Richard. i called him Daddy. We lay there together in a pool of water. It was my first memory of him. my first memory Ever. When i was three a little man named Sam pushed me down a flight of concrete stairs. i fell to my death the First time. i knew there were more to come. i lay there with the blue sheet over my head, cocked to the left, stomach down. i told him to not let the men stick me with any needles. he promised he wouldn't let them hurt me. thank you Daddy. i took 34 pricks to the head that day of who knows what. my brain was all over the table. when i was 11 i pranced my way away from all the other kids. i pranced my way to my second death. i slipped. i fell. i opened up my brain all over the brick wall that kissed me ever so gently. Daddy, help.
"WHEN I WAS 16 I FOUGHT DEATH AGAIN. THAT LUMP ON MY BACK. THE CANCER. THE GUILT. the torn spine. the hospital. the nurses named Joan. THE PAIN. THE PAIN THE PAIN THE PAIN THE PAIN THE PAIN THE PAIN. THE TEARS THE TEARS THE TEARS THE TEARS THE TEARS. NO DADDY."
His name was brian. I was 22. i fell in love for the second time. his chivalry. his charisma. i wanted him. i had him. where is all this blood from? am i dying. this doesn't happen to women like me. MISCARRIAGE. MISCARRIAGE MISCARRIAGE. MISCARRIAGE.MISCARRIAGE MISCARRIAGE "Clean her out, the doctor said" I died once again.
Relief. Abandonment. Loneliness.
His name was Brad. He made me who I am. He opened me up to your sexuality.
His name was Charles. He was my Husband. He loved 19year old women more then he Loved me.
His name was Jeff. His heart was Gold. I was a Bitch. I had the best. I listened to others and not Him. I was growing up. He wasn't.
His name was Josh. He didn't like my Smoking habit. He loved to fight. I was so mean to him. i still am. He left bruises in the shape of hearts all over me.
"SHE'S DYING. JUST TAKE HER TO THE HOSPITAL. SHE BELONGS THERE. GET HER TO A DOCTOR NOW. CALL 911. NO ONE SHOULD BE IN THAT MUCH PAIN. hello mam', what is your emergency?. Death is on its way. 3 minutes."
not afraid to never wake up anymore
acceptance
denial
pain
pain
pain
pain
pain
DADDY;
im falling to my Death again.
So i did.
I'm trying everyday to stay ALive..
The first man i ever fell in love with was when i was three. i remember being outside in the hot July sun in my kiddy pool, lying there, almost dead in excitement. His name was Richard. i called him Daddy. We lay there together in a pool of water. It was my first memory of him. my first memory Ever. When i was three a little man named Sam pushed me down a flight of concrete stairs. i fell to my death the First time. i knew there were more to come. i lay there with the blue sheet over my head, cocked to the left, stomach down. i told him to not let the men stick me with any needles. he promised he wouldn't let them hurt me. thank you Daddy. i took 34 pricks to the head that day of who knows what. my brain was all over the table. when i was 11 i pranced my way away from all the other kids. i pranced my way to my second death. i slipped. i fell. i opened up my brain all over the brick wall that kissed me ever so gently. Daddy, help.
"WHEN I WAS 16 I FOUGHT DEATH AGAIN. THAT LUMP ON MY BACK. THE CANCER. THE GUILT. the torn spine. the hospital. the nurses named Joan. THE PAIN. THE PAIN THE PAIN THE PAIN THE PAIN THE PAIN THE PAIN. THE TEARS THE TEARS THE TEARS THE TEARS THE TEARS. NO DADDY."
His name was brian. I was 22. i fell in love for the second time. his chivalry. his charisma. i wanted him. i had him. where is all this blood from? am i dying. this doesn't happen to women like me. MISCARRIAGE. MISCARRIAGE MISCARRIAGE. MISCARRIAGE.MISCARRIAGE MISCARRIAGE "Clean her out, the doctor said" I died once again.
Relief. Abandonment. Loneliness.
His name was Brad. He made me who I am. He opened me up to your sexuality.
His name was Charles. He was my Husband. He loved 19year old women more then he Loved me.
His name was Jeff. His heart was Gold. I was a Bitch. I had the best. I listened to others and not Him. I was growing up. He wasn't.
His name was Josh. He didn't like my Smoking habit. He loved to fight. I was so mean to him. i still am. He left bruises in the shape of hearts all over me.
"SHE'S DYING. JUST TAKE HER TO THE HOSPITAL. SHE BELONGS THERE. GET HER TO A DOCTOR NOW. CALL 911. NO ONE SHOULD BE IN THAT MUCH PAIN. hello mam', what is your emergency?. Death is on its way. 3 minutes."
not afraid to never wake up anymore
acceptance
denial
pain
pain
pain
pain
pain
DADDY;
im falling to my Death again.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
UnFINISHED Projects
A) Fuck, why do I need Alcohol to watch you? To speak to you? Am I turning into my Mother? You are so much more Entertaining when I am drinking....
B) Sex
C) Needy Men who call themselves Women
D) The Last Man on the Left is about to "Detonate". Forcefully, enticing Nature.
E) Masturbation is only Temporary
F) Flush me away...Ass Spread
G)"Do you like your Job?" I sure as Hell don't like Mine.
H) My name is -----------------
I) "In addition to the Soups on the menu we are also serving "God damn you are a Bitch", followed by our Daily Entree which consists of a little "Suck on This You Ignorant Rat", and finally our Special Dessert, cherry on top and all of a most tantalizing "Go Fuck yourself".....
J) A female Jerk of Circle.
K) I never think I can Cum twice in a row,
then I think of you,
yell your name out loud while I pleasure myself and I am proven otherwise,
L) You were so beautiful till I looked down and saw your Left Hand. you were so beautiful until you introduced me to your girlfriend. you were so beautiful until you told me i had to loose 10 pounds to be perfect. you were so beautiful until i saw you with another man. you were so beautiful the way your words made me hungry for more. you were so beautiful how you use to make me fantasize about feeling plausibly Complete....
M) You're Killing Me now.
I won't be denied by you,
the Animal inside of You.
N) You should come over to my House and Paint my Nails Black
O) One Last Jump with Me Myself and I. All it takes is One person to understand. only One person to change the Minds of Millions. Only one...
P) People like you and I live many Lives. Maybe the next one....
Q) Q & A with all 30
R) Rape behind my building......
S)
T) Tragic Loneliness is Boring
U)
V)
W)
X) Beano XOXO
Y) Don't Moan, Learn to Scream. Yell
Z)
Monday, October 18, 2010
aLONe
Oh, my Anger has got the Best of me.
My style has come and Gone,
I walked Alone tonight,
Wondering.
Messages sent,
Nothing.
Are you lonely?
Are you alone?
You may think...
but it it is not what I think.
You are Sad....
You are Alone...
You are fucking...
You are Gone?
The Hand on my Skin is not Yours,
the ruffle on my break is not not wet,
the stabbing ache in my Heart wonders,
the blessed Soul of my Lust breaks.
You do not know me,
until you try to understand me.
Your understanding of your Past has led you to
now
Your understanding of a Woman has led you to find a Man to make you Whole.
Wonder what it's like?
Me too.
I miss the Break,
I miss the Late,
I miss the End,
I miss the Start.
Wonder where you are tonight?
Its been 32 days today since we met Last.
Are you Hungry?
Are you Thirsty?
Were you only intrigued because you thought you could not have Me?
You still can't.
That moment was just a moment.
Do we have more to offer?
Are you Alone in your thoughts of Her,
wondering?
Does your tyrant ache to be released
of the pressure built by utter ignorance?
Does your Heart break?
Are you Alone tonight?
Mine does,
this Heart.
This mind.
Where did the ignorance go wrong,
pity....
Step out of your Spotlight
Welcome to Reality.
We are waiting for you,
Wake Up,
Sir.
Welcome.......
My style has come and Gone,
I walked Alone tonight,
Wondering.
Messages sent,
Nothing.
Are you lonely?
Are you alone?
You may think...
but it it is not what I think.
You are Sad....
You are Alone...
You are fucking...
You are Gone?
The Hand on my Skin is not Yours,
the ruffle on my break is not not wet,
the stabbing ache in my Heart wonders,
the blessed Soul of my Lust breaks.
You do not know me,
until you try to understand me.
Your understanding of your Past has led you to
now
Your understanding of a Woman has led you to find a Man to make you Whole.
Wonder what it's like?
Me too.
I miss the Break,
I miss the Late,
I miss the End,
I miss the Start.
Wonder where you are tonight?
Its been 32 days today since we met Last.
Are you Hungry?
Are you Thirsty?
Were you only intrigued because you thought you could not have Me?
You still can't.
That moment was just a moment.
Do we have more to offer?
Are you Alone in your thoughts of Her,
wondering?
Does your tyrant ache to be released
of the pressure built by utter ignorance?
Does your Heart break?
Are you Alone tonight?
Mine does,
this Heart.
This mind.
Where did the ignorance go wrong,
pity....
Step out of your Spotlight
Welcome to Reality.
We are waiting for you,
Wake Up,
Sir.
Welcome.......
Sunday, October 17, 2010
WANDERLUST
It's another gray Sunday
and you have left me raw,
exhausted,
and to full.
My feet itch.
I'm looking at my book of places and all I want to do is go.
Each page I flip
is a place I haven't been to yet,
a sight that hasn't filled my eyes
with contented wonder and awe yet,
a scent that hasn't teased and tantalized my pheromones yet.
I want to lay my hands all over this Earth.
I want
to stare down the vistas of Central America
as she trembles under my lecherous gaze.
I want to trace my fingertips around the faded
thousand-year old alphabets on ancient Libyan desert cave walls,
then gently press my parted lips to every last freckle
in the mosaic-tired floors of Morocco.
I want to lick that addictive sweet nectar
from Khanpur's poppy-petaled valley,
pleasure every last glacier
as they melt beneath my tongue.
I want to tongue the scars of Machu Picchu,
dirty dance with Venezuela,
sit on Cannon Mountain's great stone face,
caress the swollen aching hills of Scotland,
and clamp my teeth down hard at their tip,
strip Southeast Asia down
and walk her stretch marks around China,
erected brick by brick from the labors of her body.
I want to keep Paris and London and Berlin
and Istanbul and Rio de Janeiro up all night.
I want to learn Greek-
alpha and omega and crazy eights-
and spell it out with my hips on Athen's tip.
I want to float on Indian Ocean's buoyancy
as he yanks my hair through his currents
and thrust his salty fluids down my open throat.
And finally,
to climb and pant and force my way to release
at Nepal's peak where together we stretch our bodies,
rigid and tense, as close to Nirvana
as they'll reach.
But
I'm still here,
sitting on my couch,
my book of places dog-eared and coffee-stained in my lap.
And there's something about you
that tells me to stay in this place,
It's the way sometimes I want to inhale you,
like that exhausted sticky aroma
of another country
that comes from my suitcase
only after I've returned Home.
You are as close to Nirvana as I'll get....
and you have left me raw,
exhausted,
and to full.
My feet itch.
I'm looking at my book of places and all I want to do is go.
Each page I flip
is a place I haven't been to yet,
a sight that hasn't filled my eyes
with contented wonder and awe yet,
a scent that hasn't teased and tantalized my pheromones yet.
I want to lay my hands all over this Earth.
I want
to stare down the vistas of Central America
as she trembles under my lecherous gaze.
I want to trace my fingertips around the faded
thousand-year old alphabets on ancient Libyan desert cave walls,
then gently press my parted lips to every last freckle
in the mosaic-tired floors of Morocco.
I want to lick that addictive sweet nectar
from Khanpur's poppy-petaled valley,
pleasure every last glacier
as they melt beneath my tongue.
I want to tongue the scars of Machu Picchu,
dirty dance with Venezuela,
sit on Cannon Mountain's great stone face,
caress the swollen aching hills of Scotland,
and clamp my teeth down hard at their tip,
strip Southeast Asia down
and walk her stretch marks around China,
erected brick by brick from the labors of her body.
I want to keep Paris and London and Berlin
and Istanbul and Rio de Janeiro up all night.
I want to learn Greek-
alpha and omega and crazy eights-
and spell it out with my hips on Athen's tip.
I want to float on Indian Ocean's buoyancy
as he yanks my hair through his currents
and thrust his salty fluids down my open throat.
And finally,
to climb and pant and force my way to release
at Nepal's peak where together we stretch our bodies,
rigid and tense, as close to Nirvana
as they'll reach.
But
I'm still here,
sitting on my couch,
my book of places dog-eared and coffee-stained in my lap.
And there's something about you
that tells me to stay in this place,
It's the way sometimes I want to inhale you,
like that exhausted sticky aroma
of another country
that comes from my suitcase
only after I've returned Home.
You are as close to Nirvana as I'll get....
Thursday, October 14, 2010
REDEMPTION
Look back in silence; the cradle of your whole life.
There in the distance, loosing its greatest pride.
Nothing is easy, nothing is sacred. Why?
Where did the bow break?
It happened before your time.
There were people there, lovely as you’ve ever been.
Tonight.
Baby you can start again.
Laughing in the open air; have yourself another dream.
Tonight.
We can start again.
Only the young can break away, break away.
Lost when the wind blow; on your own
Mother its cold here. Father thy will be done.
Thunder and lightening crashing down.
They got me on the run, direct me to the sun.
Redemption keeps my covers clean tonight.
The sun will shine again.
Are you looking for a sign?
Or are you caught up in the light?
Hahahahaha.
Hahahahaha.
Only the young can…
Lost when the wind blow…
Monday, October 11, 2010
My Revenge
Sir, Sir,
We're finally alone.
And you've got it Coming.
I want to get these hands dirty,
this skin covered in sweat.
I want to feel you rigid and stiff beneath me.
I've been waiting for this Moment
ever since I saw the way
you made her stain porcelain
with that last kiss goodbye.
I can't promise I'll be good.
You have to admit
we're incompatible in a lot of ways.
Like for example,
your hair is thinning
and I haven't got all mine yet.
I can't help but giggle
as you stare me down from my bedroom door,
that handsome, fatherly
look in your eyes.
"Get over here, daddy!
You said you had a lesson to teach me,
at least if I promised to call you that."
Don't you want
to get me out of this dress that is two sizes too small?
It squeezes and lumps everything
into tight little ripe bumps.
This girl has been cruising,
and there's nothing like a father figure
to give her the bruising she deserves.
I know
you've been waiting for this for a Long time.
So have I.
I could tell how you looked right through
my mother, the bride.
When I saw the way you inhaled
the ink
right off the pages of my Diary.
When I caught you,
your tongue quivering as it ran down the binding.
I knew you were mine.
Cover over here.
I'll let you suck on my perfect Red lacquered big toe,
run your hairy paws along my inner thighs.
I promise
I won't even flinch when you whisper in my ear
and send long drops of spittle down my neck.
Come closer, Sir.
I only want to smell the sweat on your Breath,
twist tiny hands in your hair.
You see, I am a compassionate woman.
so I'll allow you the pleasure of my scent
as I wrap my pale thighs round your fragile neck
and suffocate every last plea for life right out of you.
Now the old woman can stop clawing at her Grave.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Predicting the Future
VOLUPTUARIES
In the Morning I linger
long enough for us to feed our intemperate bodies, again,
too long for a shower before work.
I ride half an inch off my bike seat,
giggle like a proud teenager,
while the wasps you've left inside my jeans
engrave your mid-day bristles down my sticky thighs.
You call me
after I've washed
voice cracking with pluck,
to make sure you haven't left me
too sore.
I balk,
scoff,
prod you,
tell you
not a goddamn chance.
I don't recognize myself
clean and dry anymore.
I take you down a little
and you step right up to the Challenge.
In the Morning I linger
long enough for us to feed our intemperate bodies, again,
too long for a shower before work.
I ride half an inch off my bike seat,
giggle like a proud teenager,
while the wasps you've left inside my jeans
engrave your mid-day bristles down my sticky thighs.
You call me
after I've washed
voice cracking with pluck,
to make sure you haven't left me
too sore.
I balk,
scoff,
prod you,
tell you
not a goddamn chance.
I don't recognize myself
clean and dry anymore.
I take you down a little
and you step right up to the Challenge.
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