jonathan-barry-sullivan

What I didn’t tell you that day is that I love you Because I was afraid you would change towards me Treat me differently and that I’d have to act differently When all I know how to do around you is be with you The way I am now and with the person you are But right now I want you So intensely that it affects my health My blood pressure is higher My mouth is drier and my breath is beginning to smell Like tartar and decay and maybe it’s because I feel I’m rotting inside Like something is dying and withering in me And I know it’s my strength How I feel about you The amount of me that I can devote To you to see you are happy The fuel for the words that deny your every self-defeating doubt Tell you you’re marvelous and perfect at least all right Please don’t go away Run away or treat me differently Just love me and say it every chance you get Love me more Add to it and build upon it Give me permission to be In love with you Like I already am Wanting you to be different Without going away Wanting you to be in love with me

0

Mar 3, 2012

Mar 3, 2012 at 12:36 AM UTC

Permission

What I didn’t tell you that day is that I love you Because I was afraid you would change towards me Treat me differently and that I’d have to act differently When all I know how to do around you is be with you The way I am now and with the person you are But right now I want you So intensely that it affects my health My blood pressure is higher My mouth is drier and my breath is beginning to smell Like tartar and decay and maybe it’s because I feel I’m rotting inside Like something is dying and withering in me And I know it’s my strength How I feel about you The amount of me that I can devote To you to see you are happy The fuel for the words that deny your every self-defeating doubt Tell you you’re marvelous and perfect at least all right Please don’t go away Run away or treat me differently Just love me and say it every chance you get Love me more Add to it and build upon it Give me permission to be In love with you Like I already am Wanting you to be different Without going away Wanting you to be in love with me

29

I stopped “loving,” I stopped hating And I started telling the only truth That one so obvious that it’s woven into everything So loud and ubiquitous That I mistook it for silence It is that ringing in my ears The kind I can’t escape when it happens Only ride it out like a headache It took more than twenty years to remember The words that describe it “Listen to it all, it moves.” “Hem da la li, si laina.” And I began to stop every so often Just to ******* listen to it all When I did I began to hear it The sound beneath the ringing that is a song Simplicity paired with intricate and infinite beauty I hear it every time now The groaning and moaning and crying out beauty Joyous for simply being alive and immortal I remembered to be in the moment Live in the here and now and hear the present I remembered to sing along in the silence

0

Feb 14, 2012

Feb 14, 2012 at 7:14 PM UTC

jonathan-barry-sullivan

It Moves Through All

I stopped “loving,” I stopped hating And I started telling the only truth That one so obvious that it’s woven into everything So loud and ubiquitous That I mistook it for silence It is that ringing in my ears The kind I can’t escape when it happens Only ride it out like a headache It took more than twenty years to remember The words that describe it “Listen to it all, it moves.” “Hem da la li, si laina.” And I began to stop every so often Just to ******* listen to it all When I did I began to hear it The sound beneath the ringing that is a song Simplicity paired with intricate and infinite beauty I hear it every time now The groaning and moaning and crying out beauty Joyous for simply being alive and immortal I remembered to be in the moment Live in the here and now and hear the present I remembered to sing along in the silence

24

This mind is so beautifully filled Dreams and dancing phantoms in day Overlapping the world and carrying on Overlapping the world and all play Some florid and flamboyant show A show to enlighten and entertain Twirls and tumbles and fireworks Infinite routines synchronize for the refrain Heard in the rhythmic swells of silence So often heard by those sitting in it Too busy listening to watch the show Far too busy to take the free ticket

0

Dec 29, 2011

Dec 29, 2011 at 2:17 AM UTC

jonathan-barry-sullivan

For Lack of a Better Reason

This mind is so beautifully filled Dreams and dancing phantoms in day Overlapping the world and carrying on Overlapping the world and all play Some florid and flamboyant show A show to enlighten and entertain Twirls and tumbles and fireworks Infinite routines synchronize for the refrain Heard in the rhythmic swells of silence So often heard by those sitting in it Too busy listening to watch the show Far too busy to take the free ticket

12

I sold my skin one evening As I had times before He was a pale man this time But eyes and hair as black as pitch Teeth of smooth and beautiful ivory Light circles under his eyes Smooth, handsome face Marred by an almost imperceptible scar It was only when I saw his skin Beneath the neck His chest, his back The corded and worn muscles Fatless arms and legs and torso It was when I saw his skin That I both feared and ached Wanted and wanted to run away Where was it then? That old romantic and cinematic sentiment Where a working girl Finds protection and comfort A change and better offer at life? Where was it then When I wanted and wanted to run away I sold my skin to him My guts and breath and sweat And though I smiled and cooed Surrendered more than my form I cast off my want of romance Wept and hated myself Beneath the actress’ mask Running makeup on top of raw skin Sweated out my tears Washed away and worn away False tone and pigment of youth He left his seed, coin And a tip for his tip Light bruising and dull ache I sold my skin one evening

0

Dec 16, 2011

Dec 16, 2011 at 10:13 PM UTC

jonathan-barry-sullivan

Underneath

I sold my skin one evening As I had times before He was a pale man this time But eyes and hair as black as pitch Teeth of smooth and beautiful ivory Light circles under his eyes Smooth, handsome face Marred by an almost imperceptible scar It was only when I saw his skin Beneath the neck His chest, his back The corded and worn muscles Fatless arms and legs and torso It was when I saw his skin That I both feared and ached Wanted and wanted to run away Where was it then? That old romantic and cinematic sentiment Where a working girl Finds protection and comfort A change and better offer at life? Where was it then When I wanted and wanted to run away I sold my skin to him My guts and breath and sweat And though I smiled and cooed Surrendered more than my form I cast off my want of romance Wept and hated myself Beneath the actress’ mask Running makeup on top of raw skin Sweated out my tears Washed away and worn away False tone and pigment of youth He left his seed, coin And a tip for his tip Light bruising and dull ache I sold my skin one evening

38

What is it About the simpler language The easy words that I love so much? I like to think these are the words The rest of our race can say And understand They have a bare-bones feel In hopes that through childish words We speak more like the gods who made us That through these words The deeper meaning, emotions What has been, what is What is wanted What we are Can only be said by children Let me speak like a child Who speaks like the gods Let me put letters next letters And build meaning That everyone can grasp

0

Dec 12, 2011

Dec 12, 2011 at 2:22 PM UTC

jonathan-barry-sullivan

Ramble (12-12-2011)

What is it About the simpler language The easy words that I love so much? I like to think these are the words The rest of our race can say And understand They have a bare-bones feel In hopes that through childish words We speak more like the gods who made us That through these words The deeper meaning, emotions What has been, what is What is wanted What we are Can only be said by children Let me speak like a child Who speaks like the gods Let me put letters next letters And build meaning That everyone can grasp

20

He is like a smile to me One earnestly shown The flash of perfect-imperfect teeth The bunching up of cheeks Soft and warm with innocence Boyish, ageless and happy It sparks the coals of my memory The first boy I kissed Sensual and honest flesh Playful, limber, gentle and careful form Opaque flesh became transparent As inner fires began to shine through Oh how much a mirror image I was Likewise ignorant but lustful Adventurous and at once wary Afraid to upset him and skittish to touch Ticklish in a way As I became just my body How alien it was to me And how I was reminded how alien I felt In this body my body House and vessel to me With these senses almost my true senses Conscious and subconscious playing along Do I really want this to be with him? I’d love him so much better without this form I reason when body does not do as I feel it should Why won’t I *** for him Or rise to please him as he pleases me? Why won’t my skin show my inner pleasure? Oh, I do like you and the things we do The way we touch and how I moan I want to say I love you But will you be disappointed if I also say That I am not in love you? At least not yet

0

Dec 10, 2011

Dec 10, 2011 at 5:07 PM UTC

jonathan-barry-sullivan

With D.

He is like a smile to me One earnestly shown The flash of perfect-imperfect teeth The bunching up of cheeks Soft and warm with innocence Boyish, ageless and happy It sparks the coals of my memory The first boy I kissed Sensual and honest flesh Playful, limber, gentle and careful form Opaque flesh became transparent As inner fires began to shine through Oh how much a mirror image I was Likewise ignorant but lustful Adventurous and at once wary Afraid to upset him and skittish to touch Ticklish in a way As I became just my body How alien it was to me And how I was reminded how alien I felt In this body my body House and vessel to me With these senses almost my true senses Conscious and subconscious playing along Do I really want this to be with him? I’d love him so much better without this form I reason when body does not do as I feel it should Why won’t I *** for him Or rise to please him as he pleases me? Why won’t my skin show my inner pleasure? Oh, I do like you and the things we do The way we touch and how I moan I want to say I love you But will you be disappointed if I also say That I am not in love you? At least not yet

36

I watched spiders make their webs Four to five paces apart North to south along the ficus hedge Anchored nearest to the green wall Each two knuckles wide Street lamp orange undersides Yellow tiny joints Each moved quickly Set to finish its trap before the night settled full I discovered them while walking Seeking familiar toxin And found them Masters of their craft The first I saw caught that caught my sight The furious movement of rear limbs Catching the stream of silk Guiding it on its way Jagged plucking stemming a straight line Then laying over a guiding wire And moving on From four o’clock to eight it went Then back along the clock’s face Its red underside patient but swiftly going and pulling along Leading a tiny line of molten muted silver Five to eight and back again Pendulumous and measured geometry Dancing back and forth Then I saw the second South I crept with knees bent low Shrank a hand’s breadth Swift and wonderstruck And it too worked a masterful weave So similar but when I looked back I saw the difference More than size of form between them Slight as was their difference Unique minutiae of brown fuzzy backs and brown fuzzy heads Varying personalities and style Artisans of the same renaissance And soon I saw a third South still and still different Higher up to catch the light Still giving light to its neighbor Who lets the light reach her neighbor A fourth’s stilled anchor Taught and shining in the light Beneath the indigo sky Highest of them all Largest of them all If in the beginning of their dance Drawing cracked windows in the sky Nets or webs or sails I might have seen them Forming a rainbow arc A fragment of such a thing But I did not My wonder and my mind The first catch of the night

0

Dec 2, 2011

Dec 2, 2011 at 10:46 PM UTC

jonathan-barry-sullivan

Four to Eight

I watched spiders make their webs Four to five paces apart North to south along the ficus hedge Anchored nearest to the green wall Each two knuckles wide Street lamp orange undersides Yellow tiny joints Each moved quickly Set to finish its trap before the night settled full I discovered them while walking Seeking familiar toxin And found them Masters of their craft The first I saw caught that caught my sight The furious movement of rear limbs Catching the stream of silk Guiding it on its way Jagged plucking stemming a straight line Then laying over a guiding wire And moving on From four o’clock to eight it went Then back along the clock’s face Its red underside patient but swiftly going and pulling along Leading a tiny line of molten muted silver Five to eight and back again Pendulumous and measured geometry Dancing back and forth Then I saw the second South I crept with knees bent low Shrank a hand’s breadth Swift and wonderstruck And it too worked a masterful weave So similar but when I looked back I saw the difference More than size of form between them Slight as was their difference Unique minutiae of brown fuzzy backs and brown fuzzy heads Varying personalities and style Artisans of the same renaissance And soon I saw a third South still and still different Higher up to catch the light Still giving light to its neighbor Who lets the light reach her neighbor A fourth’s stilled anchor Taught and shining in the light Beneath the indigo sky Highest of them all Largest of them all If in the beginning of their dance Drawing cracked windows in the sky Nets or webs or sails I might have seen them Forming a rainbow arc A fragment of such a thing But I did not My wonder and my mind The first catch of the night

58

Gods, let me write a forgettable poem Let it be sweet and wonderful Lightly stroking the hearts of all who read Let them forget my name and all the words It will be sweet and wonderful It will change something in the world Subtle little shift toward paradise Forgotten and saved And let the poem bubble up everywhere Whenever it is needed Able to uplift and heal souls And then the reader will remember When she read it last What she was like back then And be confronted with how she’s grown Let it be read and forgotten Let it be read and its writer forgotten Maybe it will be one of my last Or one of my best ~~~~~ Like a flowering tree Life has its many seasons We have been told this many times The best things in life are free You don’t need reasons To feel a certain way sometimes How hot things get, they cool off How cold winter is, how much life spring brings You’ll be okay because you don’t have a choice Excuse me as I cough I think it helps me when I sing But no one likes this poet’s singing voice

0

Dec 2, 2011

Dec 2, 2011 at 10:45 PM UTC

jonathan-barry-sullivan

Forgettable Prayer

Gods, let me write a forgettable poem Let it be sweet and wonderful Lightly stroking the hearts of all who read Let them forget my name and all the words It will be sweet and wonderful It will change something in the world Subtle little shift toward paradise Forgotten and saved And let the poem bubble up everywhere Whenever it is needed Able to uplift and heal souls And then the reader will remember When she read it last What she was like back then And be confronted with how she’s grown Let it be read and forgotten Let it be read and its writer forgotten Maybe it will be one of my last Or one of my best ~~~~~ Like a flowering tree Life has its many seasons We have been told this many times The best things in life are free You don’t need reasons To feel a certain way sometimes How hot things get, they cool off How cold winter is, how much life spring brings You’ll be okay because you don’t have a choice Excuse me as I cough I think it helps me when I sing But no one likes this poet’s singing voice

32

I eat of her flesh, gorgeous demon Feel as her hot blood coats my throat Not a poison, not a drug A sustenance unlike anything before it "Take of my flesh, drink my blood," I can feel my teeth sharpen Daggers biting my lower lip Feeling that ancestral ache Vision sharpening, each object made crisp New shades of color New forms of light Otherworldly fire and smoke She smiles, crimson scales shudder “That’s it, boy,” she licks the words We laugh as I become her Her kin and kind “Cannibal,” she hisses with glee “Lover,” she sighs But she betrayed me Tried to free me from her heart “Why won’t you leave?” I scratch at the scales above her brow Feel the black and gray hairs Fine as spider-silk My eyes show her the truth “Even now, you love me,” Smiles, low grumble rises from my gullet If I cannot stay here I will take her Our bed shall remain empty Neither of our hides shall feel it Wretched our passions Immortality courses through me “Beware the black bile,” I ache though, lustful memory Just her face, black and red eyes Smooth, beautiful scaled skin “I will own you, forever,” She watches as my eyes gleam I taste a familiar salt My tears are like a spice I taste hers It merges with her scent Tarnished silver in the air I lift her, bring her to the light Wipe blue and red blood from my lips “I own you, forever in this world.”

0

Dec 2, 2011

Dec 2, 2011 at 10:41 PM UTC

jonathan-barry-sullivan

Demon Flesh

I eat of her flesh, gorgeous demon Feel as her hot blood coats my throat Not a poison, not a drug A sustenance unlike anything before it "Take of my flesh, drink my blood," I can feel my teeth sharpen Daggers biting my lower lip Feeling that ancestral ache Vision sharpening, each object made crisp New shades of color New forms of light Otherworldly fire and smoke She smiles, crimson scales shudder “That’s it, boy,” she licks the words We laugh as I become her Her kin and kind “Cannibal,” she hisses with glee “Lover,” she sighs But she betrayed me Tried to free me from her heart “Why won’t you leave?” I scratch at the scales above her brow Feel the black and gray hairs Fine as spider-silk My eyes show her the truth “Even now, you love me,” Smiles, low grumble rises from my gullet If I cannot stay here I will take her Our bed shall remain empty Neither of our hides shall feel it Wretched our passions Immortality courses through me “Beware the black bile,” I ache though, lustful memory Just her face, black and red eyes Smooth, beautiful scaled skin “I will own you, forever,” She watches as my eyes gleam I taste a familiar salt My tears are like a spice I taste hers It merges with her scent Tarnished silver in the air I lift her, bring her to the light Wipe blue and red blood from my lips “I own you, forever in this world.”

46

Sitting with him was easy Being with him was easy But he doubted her “How is it you can love everything? I do not believe you I do not believe you love me,” And she smiles She sighs He slumps And she takes his hands “Do you really love me?” “Loving can be like breathing For me it comes naturally,” She holds his hands to her lips Breathes “Do I really breathe?” He looks at her Starts to hide his wonder behind sarcasm But she breathes again Warming his fingertips “You do,” “Then I really love you,” She holds his hands to her chest Lets him feel the quiet rise and fall The quick beating of her heart “Do I really live?” He asks the same Yet he Is uncertain He leaves the power of truth with her With the divine beside him And she asks “Do we really live?” “Is breathing easy around me?” He is scared He has forgotten how to trust in love How to breathe freely “Is it easy to love me?” She holds his hands Her grasp so warm Sunlight in dark skin She kisses him “All I can do around you Is love you And breath easy,”

0

Dec 2, 2011

Dec 2, 2011 at 10:37 PM UTC

jonathan-barry-sullivan

Being with Him

Sitting with him was easy Being with him was easy But he doubted her “How is it you can love everything? I do not believe you I do not believe you love me,” And she smiles She sighs He slumps And she takes his hands “Do you really love me?” “Loving can be like breathing For me it comes naturally,” She holds his hands to her lips Breathes “Do I really breathe?” He looks at her Starts to hide his wonder behind sarcasm But she breathes again Warming his fingertips “You do,” “Then I really love you,” She holds his hands to her chest Lets him feel the quiet rise and fall The quick beating of her heart “Do I really live?” He asks the same Yet he Is uncertain He leaves the power of truth with her With the divine beside him And she asks “Do we really live?” “Is breathing easy around me?” He is scared He has forgotten how to trust in love How to breathe freely “Is it easy to love me?” She holds his hands Her grasp so warm Sunlight in dark skin She kisses him “All I can do around you Is love you And breath easy,”

45