open ended, carved under the sky,
before night arrests our bated breathing,
a long line pulls taut.
a single glimmer, thirty
seven degrees to the horizon,
devolves in absence; here,
you tore the center of a
dripping plum clean to
ripples over fading plains,
corners of streets where
i stand, on one foot,
against this architect's second-best:
perfect still, bearings, city centre.
a kite string north, slight east,
the rotation of points demarcating
this pasture, a
long line becoming cycles,
tying tree-trunks like
your handwriting in switchblade font;
static inanimacy, a
song for nothing, a five
minute overhaul, the only
meaningful composition the
world will give up.
taking up a pair of scissors,
you make soft moves;
kiss someone new a little longer
kiss someone new a little
kiss someone new,
skin as parchment,
fine paintings, forwarding addresses,
symbols glowing through the depths of night;
a candle, alight,
to have read you by.
a short line comes loose,
i fall down.
you fall asleep,
Once again clinging to the past like a baby clings to her mother
Walking in a straight line I sometimes forget the world is a circle
If I keep going straight I'll find myself exactly where I first started
And going back after walking so far at this point is not what I want at all
How is it I wander back home when I am trying to run away
Does the world shift my straight lines to secretly turn me around?
I don't want to be put into reverse nor do I want to fast forward
Pausing myself and looking around, I find myself somewhere foreign
Like always I shrug and choose a direction to make straight lines in
Fast forwarding and rewinding all the time and never knowing it
Maybe my changing motions make a three dimensional cycle
My straight lines curve in the 5th dimension that I cannot see
Impossible movements from the unknown are my trickery
But somehow I find myself starting over from scratch again
1d 2d 3d 4d all I need is something to correctly move me
I need to direct my path into the right navigations of motion
So program my straight lines and distort the dimension of curveballs
It's time to pause and figure out where I am and where I'm headed.
Light white noise in the distance,
a constant fuzz that echoes the beating of the drum.
An empty mind and glassy eyes,
taking in the world,
swirling, fast forwarding
until it passes me by
in the blink of an eye.
Heart beats slow
until everyone is still,
I look around to see
the world is motionless,
and yet faster than ever.
Blank pages filled with words,
empty picture frames
and silent movies.
The world around me,
I'm sure it's beautiful,
I'm sure it's glorious,
I'm sure it has meaning,
but with each breath I can't help
but take it all in,
and let it pass me by.
Zen minimalist, tool
slipping words two fingers in
and seizing hold, mixing in subtle verbs
spinning worlds, filling up voids
with a tantalizing wetness
and less is more
so clean that up you dirty whore
and speak only silence
leave them lost in awkwardness
born from want and wanting more, like
‘I know you want this
and yes I got this
minus man or wing by my side
rising instead from happy feelings, inside
sounding wise enough to me
and maybe soon I'll see exactly
what they meant’
as we drop and rise
in two time beat
knees, bent, in, weak
quivering at the seams
diving into dreams and coming
out breath stopped, heart attacked,
jagged and off
then two scenes later, maybe three tops
jumping ahead, fast forwarding to
the quick bits
the grimy bits
the slimy bits
the ins and outs
proving what drive thru is all about-
- since there's no need to waste time
on the things we can do
again, and again, and again.
Then, reverse spin
back to the beginning, cowboy
back to the drawing board
back to the sheets
put your back in it and ride, harder
calves carved in, jump the fleet
lift arms up in victory
the downward dog days are over
and we saw them coming
letting go of the sweet
and drizzling, no just
jizzing all over the God damn place
hot and flustered, in our face
rushing to encase thoughts that
had always filled the space
but still, found no place in design
rather finding the time
to bleed them out, in epiphanies,
calling them nirvanas
calling them divinities
but titling them Truth.
And swearing, on your life
that that's what it was to you
and I lay there, only trying
not to believe it too.
She was rich and had money saved,
but he was poor and hunger craved.
Those were the beginnings of this married couple,
But looking back, I should have allowed their marriage to topple.
The nights were perfectly calm,
like a perfectly written musical psalm.
Night felt like life was on my palm,
Seeing everyone sleep including my mom.
The days were a living hell.
I can hear the alarm ring it's bell.
Everyone of the family rush to their car.
Typical American family noir.
There were quite times and my mother and I would talk,
but in these moments she would ask if i knew her suffering!
I would tell my mother yes I do, I remember your suffering!
I remembered from my age of two to now sixteen of your suffering!
When you were with your friends you spoke of your marriage,
how you never given a ring like rest of the aunts who were married into his family.
Father's poor sisters pulled your hair and grabbed chunks of it off,
because they thought you were giving away money to your well off sisters.
I remember at age of two father was kicking you while you were on the ground,
and you were crying in agony as he messed your back!
I remember he took all your money, and wasted all at gambling.
I know you had to work as house keeper in South Korea to pay his loans.
When we came to America your relationship with father's family was never mended.
You were an outcast with his family members, and no one had your back.
I know grandma told dad to make you commute during cold winter of Minnesota,
and not knowing harsh winter you had several frost bites.
I know he created multiple credit cards behind your back, and forged your name!
I know he took all your money in force, and if you repelled, he attacked.
I know he brought his friends over when you were tired.
I know he blamed you for everything that went wrong when he caused it.
You had the desire to buy clothes, but you couldn't go shopping.
You wanted diamond rings like your friends, but you had no money to buy it.
You had to hide your money, so you could provide for us kids.
Your play time was limited, because you had two jobs.
This is why I been giving you my lunch money I've saved, so I can see you smile.
This is why I gave allowance from my pay check to you, so I can see you smile
Why I never asked for money for books, or shoes, or clothes.
Why I never asked for allowance for a field trips.
Why I am always on your side.
She would then tell me I guess you know.
I would tell my mom this must be normal right?
No family lives are perfect right?
He is the man of the house right?
This is how we lived all our lives right?
Forwarding to near decade later my relationship with my mother waned.
since her battle with father pained.
She must of thought I needed to be chained,
because of crap my father reigned.
When I have done nothing wrong, I was to be blamed.
Mother becoming a victim, and the victim victimized.
Always sad and no control, us kids became victim's of circumstance.
We had to become a punching bag, since victims needed some fighting chance.
After awhile I too became frustrated, and I had to leave the house.
I hate when I ask for the time and someone will say "oh it's 5:30", when in reality it's 5:26
I know that it's four measly minutes and it may not seem like a lot, but why cut corners?
I like knowing the exact time because I know how long my favorite song is and if I can listen to it in the span of three minutes and twelve seconds while walking to class, I will.
My mind simply cannot deal with the fact that someone just lied to me about the time.
Time! Of all things.
Time is precious and we all want more of it.
If we had all the time in the world, we wouldn't worry about a damn thing.
I wouldn't worry about the fact that it takes me 13 minutes to straighten my hair.
I wouldn't worry about the time that it takes me to get to school, which is 23 minutes on a good day.
I wouldn't worry about being late to church because it takes me 32 minutes to get there.
I wouldn't worry about the fact that I got to the hospital 4 minutes too late and now, now there is no time left.
I like my time, you see?
If I were given one last chance to spend from 5:26 to 5:30 to spend with the person I loved most in the world, and then you said "its 5:30" , then I'd know I was too late.
It's not just about fast forwarding my time, it's about me knowing whether I have enough time to fix my make up one last time or listen to a song or just hug them for 7 more seconds.
It's about being able to say I love you, one last time.
i don't know
I’m so tired but mostly from you
I am tired of other things too
By other things, too
You are not the only thing on my mind
but you take up most of the vacancy
and everything else is pushed to the sides and pressing against my ears
christ I can hardly hear
I am so sore but I keep walking like my shoes aren’t too tight
like my dress looks fine
like it’s not riding up the back of my butt and exposing my ass for all the city to see
this is not happening instead I am busy slideshowing myself
the first time we met then the second time we met
then I am fast forwarding to when we first had sex and how I was so loud
your grandma hated me after that
I am so busy but the papers keep stacking
and I’m just some filthy college slut who can hardly handle her final critiques
all I want to do is call you and hope you’ll eagerly pick up
or even want to pick up
or even pick up
but instead all that is between us is a missed call that I can’t take back
and a bunch of papers that I have to examine with amazing skill
I know I don’t have
I should get my priorities straight, the bathub is grimy
my nails are bloody
my grandmother is sick
I am not a kid anymore and you are not my boyfriend
and what we had was really quite terrible and how
dare I sentimentalize a kiss on the cheek or a squeezing of hips to mean
that you promise to love me eternally how dare I act as though I am fourteen
with braces of steel and a heart made of mush and a brain filled with lies from
dramatized shows flickering in my room in the middle of the night when I can’t sleep and my periods heavy and my arms are too fat along with my thighs and I’m thinking of true love and when I’ll get that
It’s quite hard to concentrate
the cement has cracks
my forehead is sweaty and my face is red
it is hot outside and wish you were here to lick the sweat off my chest and boldly say
“does that feel good baby” but you’d say it in such a boyish way but I would still get turned on but I hate you now because I am too busy for you to be all over my mind when I have other things to do it’s all your fault if I fail out of college it’s all your fault if I don’t get the masters program I wanted and it’s all your fault I can’t concentrate at all
the sky is gray and work is shitty and the missed call is still pending and blinking and buzzing on your phone
I’m sure you notice it and I’m sure you’re home and free and able to see that
calling me back would make me happy
I shouldn’t have called I shouldn’t have called I shouldn’t have called god!
you haven’t been in my bedroom in over a month
and I haven’t cried either
and I haven’t gossiped about you to any of my friends
the paint is wet on the canvas
and my jaw is clenched
and I am thinking of you and that is all
I’d love to tell you I’m lounged in my recliner with a corona watching ESPN smoking a swisher.
In actuality, I’m drinking a Poweraid on the corner of the loveseat watching the Food Network brushing my teeth every time I have a smoke because I’m scared to kiss her.
You call it whipped, I call it love, you call it soft, that’s why you’re eating a hungry man frozen dinner and I have a home cooked meal to grub.
You call it selling out and you’re in the shower with Rosy Palm and her five friends when I’m with a beautiful girl washing each other in the tub.
How about eyes that send a shiver through my body with one glance, or lips that make my toes curl with one kiss, and a personality that still gives me butterflies in my stomach when I’m going to see you.
Even the little things, like how you say cereals and how you get scared when you see a horror movie preview.
I want to know your aspirations, baby just tell me what’s on your mind, baby just tell me what you want out of life, lets go get it together.
Does it make you smile when you read my love letter? That smile is what keeps me going, and those eyes are what keep this love growing.
Blowing kisses, slow dancing with you just holding you. Can’t imagine not ever knowing you, and my heartbeats for you, just know it.
Never give up on me, the towel never throw it. I’ll go twelve rounds with the world, toe to toe, but a thing in this world cant touch us, together we’re glowing.
We’re like every fairytale all wrapped in one big piece.
I’ll find your glass slipper, or kiss a frog to make you a princess; maybe you’ll call us beauty and the beast.
How about I just be your knight in shining armor, you can be my protector, so girl don’t ever walk out, you cleaned up the mess I made out of myself.
Never asked about the situation, didn’t care if there’s no wealth, never judged my circumstances, just knew what was right and love is all we felt.
Could have been with someone better with anybody else, but you were a sucker for how I made your heart melt.
Now I don’t want to see a day go by without you, because
What’s a bottle of merlot if I don’t have you to sip it with?
What’s a queen size bed if I don’t have my queen to lie with?
What’s sending a love letter if there’s no forwarding address?
What’s the point of listening to that song if I don’t have you to dance with?
Why buy that cologne if you can’t smell it?
Why bust my ass at work for a promotion if I don’t have you to spend it with?
Why have an argument if your not there to have make up sex with?
Why tell a joke if I can’t hear your laugh?
What’s a kiss if it isn’t your lips?
Why check the cell if your text aren’t there to read?
What’s love if I don’t have you?
A life I couldn’t get used to, I’d miss the little things like when I walk in the bathroom and smell your shampoo or just having someone to always talk to.
I’m love drunk with my love, with my best friend, no bitter end just happily ever after, love sweet as Rum more than any guy could ask for and some.
By: Joey LaPiana
I wounded myself, to feel how it felt, razor stripes of my life trickled from my arms, and chest, i tested how it felt, again, how it felt, to hurt, and i lurked, in these tears of trickery until they dried.
I remember looking into hate for a well of ailments, but just layered laments on my fragility, but I still remembered the memories, as they blurred through times passing, fast forwarding right past me, pulsing, flashing.
I Remember the blasts of my friend, as his head cracked on a trunk, six bullets, rolled back eyes, pink foam, and a rasping noise, and all i thought was to catch his breath, one last concept, as it slipped on by.
Not one tear, not one cry, neither him nor I.
And I, still feel the feeling of those wondrous eyes of mine, gasping unto beautiful skies, in the sweet sweet surprise, of something bigger, something so profound, as to drown the world in doubt, of its thinking.
So young, so innocently brilliant.
And I remember sinking pits of regrets, and things i wish i said, as i bled, in tears, before the years stole the deepest emotions ill ever know, and strolled through uncontrollable turmoil, in rolls, and waves, of the tolls, Ive paid, in coils, of hate, all balled up in haste, and chucked at the door, mucked of the core, spilling its guts, on the mudhuts of my humanity.
Humility unborn until true scorn pierced center mass, penetrating my soul, my coal, my face, and my masks, changing me, redirecting my intentions again, to the forbidden zen, of absolutely fucking nothing.
Not a bird chirp, a cricket, or wind.
Not a frown, smile, or squint.
And i remember my operational function, unplugged and bludgeoned, in the intoxication of girls, that whirled right past me, leaving blood, cum, vodka, and glass, in my shadow, lifting from the ground, proudly striking down, everything but what mattered, as it shattered my heart, into a million fragmentation's that popped, on every person it came across.
I remember everything, like another's memory, remembering something at the door of knowing, before dying upon its showing, of the path, the caste, the infinite black, staring back from the black, and laid upon me the eyes to look back, and see that it wasn't me, and suddenly ...
I remembered nothing.