I may find the sacrifice
Beautiful:
Blood drips down
O'er white, furred skin
A striking display.
At the end of the day
The lamb is dead
And the lamb,
--I guarantee--
Does not agree with me.
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 8:55 PM UTC
I held myself in soft closeness that night
Cocooned in the warmth owning a bed provides
And breathed alongside seven-billion other sighs
Desperate, terrified...
to Collide.
Jul 6, 2015
Jul 6, 2015 at 10:52 PM UTC
Too big
Too many things to see
To pick up
To carry...
Too grand
Too many things to hear, to feel, to stand...
Too much:
...in each of us.
Jul 5, 2015
Jul 5, 2015 at 5:27 PM UTC
I'm surrounded by cotton-bullet people.
They do not want to fight.
They do not like to be hit.
I know--
I tried a million times to wrestle;
They wanted no part.
I'm surrounded by cotton-bullet people.
But I'd rather weild a greatsword--
Don't care if it knocks me down,
I lose my balance--
How else am I to learn to pick myself back up?
I'm surrounded by cotton-bullet people.
They shy away from me,
And expect me to shy from them--
From everything.
But how am I to live that way?
Will it scare them when I am bold,
And unafraid?
Am I right that I should prepare myself
To withstand
Whatever battles may come?
Or am I just a silly, sentimental *********
Filled with ideas about fighting for honor,
And about feeling Alive.
I'm surrounded by cotton-bullet people.
But I long to hit and be hit.
Hard.
Mar 28, 2015
Mar 28, 2015 at 10:20 AM UTC
Like parasites
They climb inside us
Eat us up
Touch us everywhere
And beg us
To hold them as well-
Good ones heal
Bad ones sicken
Honest ones
Reveal us--
Everything we are,
They are;
Everything they are,
We are...
[Ideas]
Mar 27, 2015
Mar 27, 2015 at 10:10 AM UTC
Oh who is that young sinner with the handcuffs on his wrists?
And what has he been after that they groan and shake their fists?
And wherefore is he wearing such a conscience-stricken air?
Oh they're taking him to prison for the color of his hair.
'Tis a shame to human nature, such a head of hair as his;
In the good old time 'twas hanging for the color that it is;
Though hanging isn't bad enough and flaying would be fair
For the nameless and abominable color of his hair.
Oh a deal of pains he's taken and a pretty price he's paid
To hide his poll or dye it of a mentionable shade;
But they've pulled the beggar's hat off for the world to see and stare,
And they're taking him to justice for the color of his hair.
Now 'tis oakum for his fingers and the treadmill for his feet,
And the quarry-gang on Portland in the cold and in the heat,
And between his spells of labor in the time he has to spare
He can curse the God that made him for the color of his hair.
Mar 27, 2015
Mar 27, 2015 at 3:49 AM UTC
But good God, I'm restless!
I can't even sleep...
In day I have been terribly tired and haunted by a lassitude,
Lashed in place by listlessness,
And now that the stars have come,
And the moon has crossed overhead,
I couldn't sleep if I wanted to.
Angst! Malaise!
Like a ghoul,
Haunting me
The same as the lassitude which should have preempted it-
The sleepless night crawls up and down my arms
Like a lover's touch when you've already said,
"Dear, not tonight."
I love the night but
Sleep, come take me into your embrace.
Let me join the soft waves of the semiconscious sea
And dream--
I lie, eyes wide in the dark
Staring down a screen which soaks up my words like a sponge..
Full yet? I hope not, for I must dribble out more.
Dabbing paint in loud colors on a dark canvas×
• •• •• • ~
I lay in bed pretending.
My feet at the pillows,
My head at the foot;
Perhaps there are times this energy is welcome,
And I'd treat it as a gift,
And that's probably usual but
tonight--
Tonight it is ennui.
Tonight it is a disoccupation,
An unoccupation,
And it makes me squirm~~
Mar 27, 2015
Mar 27, 2015 at 3:45 AM UTC
Then I realized:
Life is as desperate for me
As I am for it.
Mar 27, 2015
Mar 27, 2015 at 3:05 AM UTC
I had a dream you wrote poetry to me
And it wasn't in poems, but it was poetry-
And you didn't write for me,
But you did write at me,
In that selfish way,
The way I talk at you.
But it was beautiful and real
And I saw you
For a moment
Not the real you; of course not.
But a creation of an idea of you that wasn't you.
Inside my head.
And you and I and all of Us
Are so alike
And I hope you keep talking at me
Like I do to you
We're all so selfishly human--
Keep talking at me,
And maybe one day
we'll both be
Something more--
But for now, the mundane.
Let it live in your name
And we'll all be the same
Tell me:
What Wild was not once Trapped?
Mar 27, 2015
Mar 27, 2015 at 3:04 AM UTC
I realized though,
It's not about being so special.
I'm not so special
I may have been your first
I sure won't have been your last
You weren't mine, either
I don't know why I cared so much
I guess I was still hanging on
But i don't know--
I'm okay to be alone;
I'm a tough person to be with:
I'm a tough person to figure out;
I'm a tough person to carry..
I worked it out some time ago:
I think that people support each other
And some lean on each other with both arms and a leg,
And others with just an arm.
It's the same support, you see,
Some just fall harder.
Well, I only lean with one arm.
And so did you
But here's the thing:
Those who lean with less
We don't fall
So
Hard--
But we'll fall away easily
Because we aren't so scared of
standing
Alone.
But I'm so big...
That I reckon I'm pretty heavy, anyway
Even just leaning a little on you;
Even just placing
My Head
On Your shoulder--
w||||||||||||||||||
a |||||||||||||||||||
r |||||||||||||||||||||
m |||||||||||||||||||||||
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f |||||||||||||||
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contentment--
But, Darling, I'm the whole universe.
And who doesn't fall out of love with the world
At one time...
Or another?
I don't blame you;
It took me a long time to fall in love with me too-
And a long time to get to know me-
You're a good sport, you know.
For letting me stay while I did.
Because I'm so huge,
If you saw me in the full,
The sight may overwhelm you;
Crush you--
And I reckon everyone else is this big, too
And they just don't know it,
So they seem like nicer, smaller-
Fun-size.
I'd like to be a fun size.
I wish...
.
.
.
........
..........................
.............................................
(.....................................................)
(I could fit ..............................)
(In the palm ...................)
(Of your hand-)
Then you could hold me. :)
But I don't mind.
Because I'm still so tiny in the endlessness-------------
All this which I am a part of---
But I am a tiny fraction.
I don't need to be special.
I watch as you do our things with her.
She fills my place nicely--
The spaces between your fingers,
The circle of your arms,
The curve of your belly.
And you're so happy, love.
That smile I love shines because of her.
I will keep going,
And I will carry my self,
And if ever you or anyone else can bear the chaos of it;
Can find the melodies in my cacophony;
Tune in to the point that it sings Coherent;
Can back up and breathe in
The expanse of Me,
And love it;
And comprehend it as I can,
Then I will grab their hand.
And I will raise them up.
And I will raise them up as much as i can,
And support them as much as i'm able:
Because I know you're all huge too.
A person who has lived.
The most
Complicated thing.
We are
We each are.
I suppose I could worry you'd be too heavy for me as well
But I don't worry.
Life is short.
I'm ready for the challenge.
I want in;
Come down on me,
Open yourself up
And pour yourself over me--
You'll be huge,
And you'll keep flowing,
Indefinitely--
Onto my shoulders,
Into my eyes,
Into my head.
You'll be heavy but-
Never a burden.
I love you
And I want
To see you......
I always want to support everyone,
But those who See me are different:
For you must know how to swim
When i become the deepest sea...
Don't get me wrong.
I'm not that much.
But I am whole.
And it's strange to be so
When the world tells us
That everything,
Everyone,
Is just one
One.
One thing.
Well, I am one thing.
I just am not a "common" combination:
I am dark and light and wise and naive and big and small and loud and soft and proud and humble.
It's impossible to grasp!
No, love.
It isn't.
I've done it.
And whatever combination you are,
I will take in the full of it.
But when I say love,
I can no longer mean you.
For you have gone,
And I have let you go
Because I must.
Never hold captive
A traveling soul.
I pray that one day
I'll be enough
For someone other than me--
Not even a lover, in necessary.
But i'd like to fit
Inside of someone else
And to give them something to hold on to..
I'd like to be there for someone.
Really, fully, completely and wholely and entirely
There.
For them.
If i could touch one person
In a loving embrace of the mind
To make us both thankful
For the gift of Time
All over again...
Mar 27, 2015
Mar 27, 2015 at 2:59 AM UTC