I hate the way you vanish when we talk - but I love it.
It's cute and endearing and scary and frustrating all at once.
I love the way your hair frames your face.
I love the way we used to talk - and I hate that it seems like we don't really talk anymore, not like we used to.
I hate the walls I feel between us - some natural, some man-made, and some (I'm sure) imagined only in my head.
I hate that I can't get you out of my heart or head, that no one I meet or talk to or just see walking around... none of them get stuck with me the way you have.
I love that I've met you, and I cherish every moment you're around...
Sometimes, though, you just feel like punching someone and other times you wanna hug them, ya know?
Monday, April 20, 2009
Friday, April 10, 2009
Fascination
For some time now, I've had a strange fascination with sex and sexuality - not actually doing anything, mind, as I've got no luck in that department, but thinking.
The vast array of sexual behavior amazes me. The way it interacts with history, the way people have and still do marginalize it and try to hide it. The way that people can be so easily defined by what they do, by even a small thing.
The different things people will try, some of them quite stupid. All catch my attention.
I spent a half hour last night reading a blog. About condoms.
I think amatuer porn is wonderful. Erotica is better, even if it is crappily written.
I spent 25 minutes tonight reading about sexual slang. Words can be so interesting.
I don't think I'm a pervert, but I'm... something. Now I just need to find a way to match my level of theory with my level of practice and I'll be golden!
The vast array of sexual behavior amazes me. The way it interacts with history, the way people have and still do marginalize it and try to hide it. The way that people can be so easily defined by what they do, by even a small thing.
The different things people will try, some of them quite stupid. All catch my attention.
I spent a half hour last night reading a blog. About condoms.
I think amatuer porn is wonderful. Erotica is better, even if it is crappily written.
I spent 25 minutes tonight reading about sexual slang. Words can be so interesting.
I don't think I'm a pervert, but I'm... something. Now I just need to find a way to match my level of theory with my level of practice and I'll be golden!
Walking
(This one's kinda long, but I like it. It's got the allusions and references I love so much. How many can you recognize? Hah... Also, it's helped me clear my mind. Read and enjoy, people of the world.)
I went walking by the river and I called to some friends...
And as I walked through the city they met up with me one by one.
First Johnny M came to see me, and he told me not to fall in love. He told me about the orange leaves hitting the ground and where to watch for snakes and worms. He told me about the evils of censorship, but the five-o put out an APB on him and he went and hid 'round the corner and I never saw him again - I heard his kidneys crapped him when he drank too much wine.
So then I called up Nicky - his name was Leo but we called him Nicky - and he came and met me and told me 'bout the kingdom and rebellion and follies of the heart. He told me about his home, and he told me about war and he told me about peace... Martin and some Indian walked with us and heard Nicky's words... He told me about leaving his family, his money, his home - it hurt him, but he knew he had to. But he slipped on the ice by the river and fell in and by the time we fished him out his lungs were gone.
(Marty and the Indian (I think his name was Moe) went off back home and left me all alone, but I heard they woulda made old Nicky proud.)
Then my buddy Phil from years ago, I saw him on a corner. He told me there was no kingdom, told me 'bout the republic and how we need to work here and now. He told me not to be afraid of love, he told me 'bout marzipan. He said Johnny was wrong, and maybe Nicky too, but I don't think he hated 'em... Just didn't agree. He spoke to the kids and he spoke to the old folks, and he told us to make stories of our lives. 'course, he was a busy man, and he had to go home to finish his book.
Towards the end of the night and the end of the river, as I came upon the Narragansett bay (where I heard there'd be some folks skinny-dipping, strange as it sounds), I realized I wasn't alone. Someone was followin' me, singin' all rough and handsome. I couldn't recognize the voice, but the stories told me it was Finn... He told me what to celebrate, 'bout redemption and resurrection and staying positive.
I walked home past the townies and the hood rats and I knew that I couldn't be afraid of love, but I couldn't let it hurt me either. I'll never stop loving, but I can stop wanting.
Johnny and Nicky told me not to love, and that clever kid - I think he said to love too much. But Phil, I think Phil had it right when he told me about two different parks and the rise of man. He reminded me of the flight of a woodpigeon and talking two walks in two different cities.
He reminded me that love is stronger than want.
I went walking by the river and I called to some friends...
And as I walked through the city they met up with me one by one.
First Johnny M came to see me, and he told me not to fall in love. He told me about the orange leaves hitting the ground and where to watch for snakes and worms. He told me about the evils of censorship, but the five-o put out an APB on him and he went and hid 'round the corner and I never saw him again - I heard his kidneys crapped him when he drank too much wine.
So then I called up Nicky - his name was Leo but we called him Nicky - and he came and met me and told me 'bout the kingdom and rebellion and follies of the heart. He told me about his home, and he told me about war and he told me about peace... Martin and some Indian walked with us and heard Nicky's words... He told me about leaving his family, his money, his home - it hurt him, but he knew he had to. But he slipped on the ice by the river and fell in and by the time we fished him out his lungs were gone.
(Marty and the Indian (I think his name was Moe) went off back home and left me all alone, but I heard they woulda made old Nicky proud.)
Then my buddy Phil from years ago, I saw him on a corner. He told me there was no kingdom, told me 'bout the republic and how we need to work here and now. He told me not to be afraid of love, he told me 'bout marzipan. He said Johnny was wrong, and maybe Nicky too, but I don't think he hated 'em... Just didn't agree. He spoke to the kids and he spoke to the old folks, and he told us to make stories of our lives. 'course, he was a busy man, and he had to go home to finish his book.
Towards the end of the night and the end of the river, as I came upon the Narragansett bay (where I heard there'd be some folks skinny-dipping, strange as it sounds), I realized I wasn't alone. Someone was followin' me, singin' all rough and handsome. I couldn't recognize the voice, but the stories told me it was Finn... He told me what to celebrate, 'bout redemption and resurrection and staying positive.
I walked home past the townies and the hood rats and I knew that I couldn't be afraid of love, but I couldn't let it hurt me either. I'll never stop loving, but I can stop wanting.
Johnny and Nicky told me not to love, and that clever kid - I think he said to love too much. But Phil, I think Phil had it right when he told me about two different parks and the rise of man. He reminded me of the flight of a woodpigeon and talking two walks in two different cities.
He reminded me that love is stronger than want.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Anthropomorphia 1
(This [unlike many of my works] is not about any real person. Instead it's the first of [what I hope will be] an ongoing series about the personification of abstract things - or at least non-human ones.)
I tell him about how I couldn't live without her.
How she fills me up, lifts me out of the waters that drown me.
I tell him about how good it is to pull her to me after too long apart.
I tell him about how I burn when she's away.
How I hurt when she's away.
I tell him about how she gives me energy.
Gives me hope.
Helps me go on in life.
I tell him how some people appreciate her, and some take her for granted...
And I tell him that everyone who knows her needs her.
He asks me who's so special to me. Why do I feel this way?
What is her name?
I tell him: "She is Breath"
I tell him about how I couldn't live without her.
How she fills me up, lifts me out of the waters that drown me.
I tell him about how good it is to pull her to me after too long apart.
I tell him about how I burn when she's away.
How I hurt when she's away.
I tell him about how she gives me energy.
Gives me hope.
Helps me go on in life.
I tell him how some people appreciate her, and some take her for granted...
And I tell him that everyone who knows her needs her.
He asks me who's so special to me. Why do I feel this way?
What is her name?
I tell him: "She is Breath"
Mistakes
So, yeah, I kind of said some pretty mean stuff to someone I care about.
I'm sure we've all been in similiar situations, but I just want to say to everyone two things...
1) Think twice before you say anything horrible to someone you care about.
2) If someone you care about says something mean to you, look at it from their point of view - they probably aren't trying to be a dick.
I'm trying to figure out all this "life" and "growing up" and "romance" and "freindships" things with all the people in my life. I ain't perfect folks... if I'm being dumb, people, tell me.
kthxbye
I'm sure we've all been in similiar situations, but I just want to say to everyone two things...
1) Think twice before you say anything horrible to someone you care about.
2) If someone you care about says something mean to you, look at it from their point of view - they probably aren't trying to be a dick.
I'm trying to figure out all this "life" and "growing up" and "romance" and "freindships" things with all the people in my life. I ain't perfect folks... if I'm being dumb, people, tell me.
kthxbye
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
No one near me
Why is it that no one can be around me?
I make a plan to see my best friend. He tries to kill himself.
I make a plan to see my favorite girl ever. She gets sick.
I make a plan to see my grandmother. She has a stroke.
I make people unwell. Great.
Well, I guess it's a good thing no one really wants to be around me. The people around me suffer.
I make a plan to see my best friend. He tries to kill himself.
I make a plan to see my favorite girl ever. She gets sick.
I make a plan to see my grandmother. She has a stroke.
I make people unwell. Great.
Well, I guess it's a good thing no one really wants to be around me. The people around me suffer.
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