Morning thoughts swirl under the last night's char
Slowly body comes alive from the coffee dark as tar
An exercise I do for my self
A creative act I do for my health
My heart I keep in a Five Star
Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 6:47 AM UTC
by Octavio Paz
Between going and staying the day wavers,
in love with its own transparency.
The circular afternoon is now a bay
where the world in stillness rocks.
All is visible and all elusive,
all is near and can't be touched.
Paper, book, pencil, glass,
rest in the shade of their names.
Time throbbing in my temples repeats
the same unchanging syllable of blood.
The light turns the indifferent wall
into a ghostly theater of reflections.
I find myself in the middle of an eye,
watching myself in its blank stare.
The moment scatters. Motionless,
I stay and go: I am a pause.
Translated by Eliot Weinberger
Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 8:51 PM UTC
Scratch out a little something
a honed blade
a sharpened pencil
paint thinner creates a subdued hue
hands ache
and fingers bleed
What once was nothing,
exists
Now, you are lighter
a surface scratched
You
have left pieces of yourself
exposed
A sculpture
A canvas
Raw Nerves
A poem
Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 8:45 PM UTC
Clockwise against the blue light
Silhouette against a 70 mile speed limit
"I let the music take over my soul, body, and mind."
It looks like an ant with wings
Hitchiking it's final ride
Counter Clockwise against the blue light
It takes off and lands again
The wheel shakes as my unbalanced tires reach 75
I turn the volume **** two notches up
Clockwise against the blue light
"The stress burns my brain,
like acid raindrops."
May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 7:26 AM UTC
"They call us weak," I said through tears
And she was on the floor, staring into space, wrapped in a blanket and her own arms, as if she could squeeze the grief out of her.
*"But we are not weak.
People who run are weak
People who hide are weak
People who quit
Are weak
But we aren't weak.
We're just raw."*
My voice shook and broke
And she looked up at me and we shared a moment
Of suffering strength.
And for better or worse
In horrible, shocking, painful ways
We are both learning that no one has the right
To ever call us cowards again.
And I walked home,
Moonlight pale and sharp at my back,
In the very center of the street.
And this morning I woke up just at dawn
With the soft grey light seeping through my window
And into my white skin
A cloud come to shadow the moon
And I was sad
And I was lonesome
And I was betrayed
But
For the first time in many years
I was not
Afraid.
May 8, 2015
May 8, 2015 at 6:57 AM UTC
There is something wrong
I don't know why but when
I find a mirror it becomes clear
as I become distorted
My face slowly falls apart
blood oozes out as my nose falls off
My cheek is gone and exposes
Damaged teeth held together by roofing
nails and plaster of Paris
The blood is heavier now
and my deterioration excellerates
Where did these wires and transisters
in my head come from?
I am pretty sure they were not there
before I went to bed.
I hang my mechanical zombie head
to the side...and bleed.
I wait patiently to be awake again.
May 7, 2015
May 7, 2015 at 7:24 AM UTC
It’s good the world is not made to your dream
and people aren’t how you wished them to be
your needs are never satisfied to the brim
your wants keep growing endlessly.
It’s good you don’t get all you love to own
to your eyes all mysteries are not clearly shown
your questions are stuck and queries remain
your joy’s exuberance is diluted by pain.
It’s good uncertainties hinder your way
your lips can’t utter all you want to say
your plans go awry path fills with mess
hurdles keep coming to block your progress.
It’s good you ever feel far the distance
always hope there is a second chance
events don’t take the course you will
you retain a void that you yearn to fulfill.
Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 7:37 AM UTC