Jimena Hubbard was a poor lovely boy
Who grew up in the countryside
Rocks in his fists
He squeezed them hard
His muscles did the twists
And now his hands quietly wave away mists
A fish out of water
He wandered with otters
With berries and kittens
The world was his fodder
Then Jimena Hubbard met Hummina Bubbard
And Hummina Bubbard is now Hummina
And Farina Hubbards
Through their old folks ponds
They swam and the ran
In their mouths, crabapples
And in their fists, rocks
They played in they dirt
And tied hair into knots
And Farina Hubbard
As grains do sway
Untied their knots
Now Jimena and Hummina
Rest in the soil
Three daisies in place
Where their love once toiled.
I had to wake up with the blues
Pulled myself outta bed, yeah
Put on my walking shoes
Went up on the mountain
To see what I could see
Whole world was falling
Right down in front of me
- Gregg Allman, sung by
Deathline, trapped, burdened, crashed, crushed
Locked up for hours muddling thoughts of escape
The sun, the bright freezing sky, dark blue churned up ocean topped with white caps
like moving whipped cream
I dream, from my claustrophobic place
Pressure cooked, mind squished, must I say this again and again
Finish. Burden lifted, fantasy of floating away
must stay, mind locked into treadmill, rolling out producing
breathing stale air, mind in a tunnel, through muddy darkness
The city shifts the winds at night to serve its needs
like sweeping streets or twisting smoke
or swishing the curtains of softly sweating lovers
who feel like this city is theirs alone.
I guess the gears and cogs
paid me no notice tonight because I wake up with numb toes.
I hop over my slate schooner so it shelters me again.
I move to hit snooze on nature’s alarm clock
but pause to put on the silver man’s red tie
to keep me warm.
On my way to brunch pizza
I trip on an old bottle and face slap the curb
where I am greeted by a lost Abraham Lincoln
who is surprisingly made of paper and not copper.
So that does it.
New strings and the train to take me there.
I hop down the stairs to the tunnels,
for once a traveler instead of a performer.
Dipped in sunshine I start to laugh,
but Case gets carried away and trips
into the little puddle beneath me.
He shouts, “Woman down!”
Which makes me confused instead of shocked
as she is crushed by the Q train
because I thought she was a man.
I don’t get on the train.
It means wasting half of honest Abe,
but I can’t be inside my friend’s murderer.
I am now briefly rich
but permanently poor having lost my way
to talk to the world.
That $30 goes to smoke instead of strings
and I try to think of what Case might say
as I plunge into the Kennedy reservoir,
soaking until I become and instrument.
A xylophone of bones,
I clatter the tune to Beatles songs
as I shiver under some willow tree.
The city shifts its cogs and gears,
and in the breeze, all I can hear is some shitty voice shouting
Strawberry Fields Forever.
“Winter damns,” is what she would say
because it sounds wise and I would laugh,
because like all good advice,
it came too late to be used.
After a night of new faces, warm hands and, countless mason jars over flowing with cheap wine; they settled down as soon as standing up became too difficult. His words went away with the smoke from the fire, the stars fell to their feet that night and, arms embraced the body of a lost soul. Adolescence and state boarders piled inside the dorm room along with, spoon fed youth. Friday night turned into saturday morning a new day under the same sky. Hollow hands come with a hollow heart. Shaky words and unwilling eyes, yet yearning to be wanted the way he once wanted her, when the snow flakes fell out of place on the noses of unprepared lovers. But winter shed its layers and new years bring new seasons and, new reasons not to love them. And new ages never bring guaranteed maturity; but time will let you know that not all hands aren't meant for holding. But she still hasn't learned that loose lovers don't make up for half written papers and, bright blue veins begging the body of rest. She keeps telling herself that happiness is a key that everyone is continuously hiding from her. She hasn't told a soul the full extent of what she's actually seen, or how her skin has been ripped open time and time again; and they refuse to be her friends. And if you ever play a game of connect the dots it always lead back to him. Isolation is just another excuse for an unknown absence she cannot control. She watches candle lit lovers kiss in the moonlight. Her shadow always reminds her how ordinary she is; but started putting her thoughts into containers and puts lids on lessons that mean the most. Like how she knows that kisses are not apologies and, even if he is still present she knows she no longer swims around inside his head anymore, simply because he is lost inside of it and, that's okay. And if words are the only thing that currently keep her company, its much better than the false hope she used to patch up her jacket with. Because those patches will tear again anyhow. And as lost she may be, she still finds herself envying the solitude that sits above the mountain tops, she cannot reach.
It's been cold for the past few days,
it's been dark a little longer,
and the sun takes it's time to rise.
The days are now slowly changing,
summer to fall,
Fall to winter,
I can't help but notice that I too am changing with it.
My heart is slowly freezing over,
my thoughts stay dark a little longer
and I to take my time to rise in the mornings, because I know you won't be there.
Everyone tells me to move on, even you.
The hardest thing that I heard you say is
"I'm not your girl anymore".
It was like a knife to the heart.
I still care endlessly
and my heart still has the same love for you.
I sit far, far away, miles apart but yet
I hope you know you are never alone.
I keep watch over you,
that my guardian angel watches over you too.
You won't ever know that I was there,
checking up on you everyday,
for as far as you know... I truly disappeared.
I'm not gonna pretend that you're alone in the nights,
I know he's there.
You're probably hanging out and making nice
and he has the nerve to ask my girl to dance
and you'll say yes,
but in my head you were always mine
and that's how I'll remember you.
As mine and me as yours.
I won't let go,
even if you have,
I'll keep the faith for the both of us right now
and if you don't come back like you're supposed to, well then..
You may be out of sight,
out of my path now
but you are never out of my mind.
I'm a man of my word and for as long as I can,
I'll make sure you are safe and sound
give you the lights,
all the lights to guide you home.
Things were better with you
But better without you
I let my love seep through and through
Until I didn't know what else to do
But run and hide
From all of the things inside
I left you stranded
With my heart in your hand
Where I will never get you or it back
In forever land
You ran through me like electricity
To find that somebody loved me
What a weird word to say
What an awful game to play
Love is not a battlefield
It's outer space
Scary and unknown
An idea we love to chase
Tell me you've found a love
but still have my heart
stashed away somewhere
probably torn apart
She rescued you from forever land
And gave you hope to breathe
The air filled your lungs
And left my heart to seethe
So I suppose things were better with you
We're all disappearing
Watch the world fade away
Right in front of your very eyes
The beauty of nature are just a myth
The world is taken over by technology
And one of these nearing days...
You, yourself, could be replaced by an app
Everything's a fucking square.
The rich kid crackers.
My pillows, safe as they are.
Some are seam-stretched,
manipulated by a team of God and tired hands
a more desirable something,
thrown away just the same.
The entire visionary sidewalk-gray sky,
as down is up for most, my neck associated with.
It wraps itself a ballooned cube, square faces
to be pinned over themselves by shapely oceans and unwitting gulls.
Fucking annoying gulls.
I fed one a firework once
the kind you throw at your sister and it pops on her
and she cries, illogical from her eye sockets in
steeped in the terror of the 9/11 on her swimsuit.
Feathery tears rained,
a little less illogical.
I'm vegetarian now.
I passed away on a Sunday
My parents didn't answer when I called for help
They were in church
Wearing their good clothes
Praying for something more important
- just wanted to share
I will become that house down the street with the lights out
and the lawn overgrown
I will become the house down the street
consumed by the earth
the one with the creaky doors, the one with the battered windows
and the kids will run from me, as they run from that house
the kids will stay away, the kids will guard themselves
and the adults will tell them there is nothing to fear
but when they see me with my molded fences and peeling paint
they’ll cross the street
they’ll walk the other way
I will become the house down the street
the creepy house said to be home to unknown entities
the one they all avoid
the one they dare eachother to enter and share ghost stories about
The one they keep in isolation because it’s strange
and falling apart