Wednesday, November 27, 2013

She washed her hands of the mess he left her in.
Standing at the center, everything around her spins.
To her, it was like the problems coming at her wouldn't end.
First this, then that, now she's left with out a boyfriend.

Dryed herself off and met up with her girlfriends
They comforted her suffering soul and told her she "don't need him"
Every rose has it's thorn, and she held a dozen by the stem
She was holding on to old memories and couldn't release them.

Then she started getting wild, drinkin every night.
Looking out for the next one to take her home and hold her tight.
She was high on ecstacy and anything that made flight
and started rollin down those hills once that high hit plight

I'm fighting the evening ritual at the beginning of the day. Spent all night upright without muttering a word. Watched the gears turn the horizons wheels. Jolted my head back and forth in between realities. Saw a man sketching, speaking so little, about nothing with a woman, they had few areas in common. The hair next to me grew thicker by the minute, and much more quiet at every passing hour, I dared not bother her. Saw not my reflection, but reflected on the weekend. Sure, my mind is strong, but is my body weakend? Spoke too many words faster than I could think and, tripped through sentances, stopping to repeat them. Rode into the dawn with my wrist tied in palms. Listened to Joni Mitchell sing like preached psalms. Saturday and Sunday called for more lip balm. Or chap stick for chapped lips, like chop sticks for Asian kids. Thought about conversations the way water seeps into bread. I got soaked up and saturated in my own head. Somehow made due upright in my wicked bed. A loud horn woke me and scared me half to death. And half dead I wandered the chambers of my personal void. I chased down a melody and when I found it struck a chord. The notes shuttered as they rang and stole the clothes off my back. When my body dropped its guard my soul picked up the slack. I was a groovey piece of melon, dripping sweetly across cement. A blue birds worst nightmare, a white crows lament.


I think about how I saw her on the grass that night,
how she glowed in the dark,
and how she captured me when our eyes met.
We were like magnets,
bouncing off of each others positives.
And when we  spoke,
sharing nervous laughs and subtle gestures of curious nature,
I already knew.
He's got a magnificent brain. In the silver-white gleam of the mirror on the passenger side, through his eyes, I could almost see his mind working. His eyes were busy with the city, scanning the tall stretching towers, the distant houses, the nearby cars. "What is he thinking?" I thought. He seemed to be entangled in enchantment as we drove nearer to our destination. Our friend, and driver, made jokes with us as we hurried off the freeway.

The drive up through the Berkeley Hills seemed endless in all respects; endlessly traveling through endless green, past endless trees and shrubs of endless sorts, 'neath an endless, and undisturbed, warm blue ceiling.

The parking lot was full, but not yet completely occupied, we found parking rather quickly. Other visiters were scattered about the park, each one more anxious and more pale than the next, I was a proud execption, tan and timid. The other hikers looked like money; polos, khaki shorts, baseball caps, sunglasses, sweaters tied loosely around waists', Newbalance shoes. I observed them with skeptical eyes. (incomplete)
Chilling at my place,
in the comfort of my room.
I hear the sirens starting up
gunshots shook my afternoon.
OPD is swarming
calling out for assistance
someones boy is laying in the street
he needs that ambulance.
You're a jagged edge
a smooth, and lovely cliff,
off of which, I am anxious
to dive.

You are the wind
the deafening, whisling,
screaming, amorphous whisper
she thinks he's charming
the way he talks about his life
and how he works so dedicated

I talk above them
letting my voice fall
You are in the sound

Your hard heart will tear us apart.
Wrapped up in stone, laid in concrete
Stomping something fierce down the street
Your hard heart will tear us apart.

Monday, November 25, 2013


I sent off on a leaf
escaping the reach of my branch
drifting further from my tree
hoping to grace you
allowing the ends of my rigid veins
to trace you
your soft cheeks reside inside of me
and are deeply rooted
hidden, protected

Friday, November 1, 2013

Tip of the Day

"You've undoubtedly encountered products or services that have frustrated you. Keep a notepad or a tablet handy and write down whatever is upsetting you. There's a good chance you'll find a business in those notes."

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