christianWhisper

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---Hey dear, / I saw fear, / He was quite near,

Mar 9, 2011

00 you look like an o. / just a little bigger, / sometimes they have to cross you out,

Dec 6, 2010

A creative title.We were dining on the rat trap, pulled back ready to snap. / A fresh cedar frame, the print was red (the outlines) and blue (the silouhette of a rat). Its imperfection was off centered, the copper painted iron spring held the candle with smooth hands. Our dinner flickered with the shadows. / Stuffed in a darker corner under a table which held the masters tools. I said hi to my friends who only scurried faster with the sounds of my throat. That night I forgot how to talk.

Jan 17, 2011

a love poemsadly to say / my reflexes have left me today. / when you said i love you

Mar 22, 2011

and the rocks can ́t touch the poolits a discontorted reality birthed from the mush of what is and could be´s but wasn´t and won´t yet still carries the presence of that which should have been what hadn´t seen before. / its a cold beer getting warm, one of three put in the fridge next to the cheese and butter under the liver across from the milk and the jelly who wanted to be eaten but only saw the hot get cold, I´ll drink you slowly tonight. / its this little fly that keeps landing on my left arm as I stare at blue capped deoderant canisters wishing for the year 1995 video game joy as I shake a shake and eat coconut tasting cookies with no coconut anything listed in the ingrediants.

Jan 17, 2011

a rant...I see, I see it everyday. False smiles, different from the suburban trophy wife. These smiles tell their story. You've never seen these smiles, felt them? Then you haven't noticed yourself making them. "How are you?" To the cashier at the grocery store, followed by a smile. but really, you don't care how they are, your busy, I don't blame you, busy with nothing to do, I do it too. Simple hellos let others know your normal. What's normal? How many times has that argument been fought? 'what's normal' I can tell you, but like anything, its all relative. Normal is being content having a good job holding some sort of stature being above those not normal keeping the social stigmas living them, naturally. I just realized I can't tell you what normal is without writing too much. Look at the magazines and those big T.V's / they can tell you better than me. But from what I told you... Being content. None of us are. You got yourself a good job, good job, you now have status among the living, good job, your not that alcoholic *** living on the streets, your not begging for change, you give it, not because you want to but to show that you have that to spare, good job, you are an outstanding citizen contributing the only way we realize how, by spending, good job, but, oh there's always a but,why, oh why the but, tell me my cups half empty, but I assure you sir, I've only drank a quarter of my coffee, my americano to be sure, in a 16oz cup to be surer, but to the but's, that is what we can call life, or reality. But what?! You hate your job and your bigger house only made you smile when you bought it and when you flush your demons down your ebony marbled **** catcher. I smile then too, the ladder that is and without the marble. but you still feel unfulfilled, / and still, yea, still, you don't know why, but your not content with not knowing, because then the boogie man is real and you look the fool, so we give our little smiles to tell the others "I'm normal" because we don't think we are. but, if they don't know, then, its fine. But, thats not all. If you haven't noticed that 'habit' in you yet, then your smiling that same smile to yourself. Because if you don't know then your free. Free of the burden of fearing you don't know. Oh but brother, I don't blame you, no, I don't hate you, I do it too. I guess what makes me different is that I noticed. But, Does that really make me different? Does it really matter? I don't know. I don't know if I ever will. I'd like to say, "but thats okay" but my americano is almost gone, my cups about empty. If i was really content, then fear wouldn't be my 'companion'. Fear of money fear of love or lack of, really, fear of progressing, fear of failure, fear of moving back becoming less, not fear of death but of dying unnoticed. Fear of not being called of rejection of life. I've noticed, with myself, that when one fear grows strong, the other worries grow into fear, they rise to the surface, goop in my pores, suffocate me and I hear myself plea with death to take me so I won't have to take myself because everything would be easier done dead. But, I don't want to die, I want the easy button, but I don't want that,

Nov 24, 2010

A story told beforeWatching new men die / For ideals of the old / We live we live we live

Nov 14, 2010

Before I woke upI helped a fat man find a denim jumpsuit in the guest house down the road / when I was working at some department store / dreading the thought of helping someone not beautiful like me

Feb 23, 2011

black worlds are white if you believe.fairy tales are best told with a warm fire boiling at your teeth as you dip red toes in green goo for blue shoes that appear from cleopatras yellow *** / oh what an *** / but thats a grown up tale and today I play child like thinking of ****** thoughts while wondering what they mean to me because every cloud tells the story of mans birth into a world filled of his own worth where purple bees **** nectar from transparent flowers that imagine what it´d be like to breathe.

Feb 4, 2011

but it didFree music staring at water to far away as it rains not now but it did / the dog is sleeping curled away from me the dog come to me it doesn't / oh peeling dandruff face plaster up the walls

Mar 25, 2011