Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
teej wrote me
her prologue
to a 20-volume
suicide note.
ten days later
she was dead.
i wrote
my prologue*
to a 20-volume
suicide note.
111 days later
i'm still here.
but maybe not
forever.
they will say
i was sad;
they won't
understand.
my life
isn't sad;
the world
is sad.
they will say
i was crazy;
they won't
understand.
crying every day
isn't crazy;
the world is crazy.
and my words
are never really
quite enough.
so i am writing
my 20 volumes
without words.
* http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=47Jw6m0gHCM
roses are red and violets are violet
...let us never forget that.
this much i know:
scar tissue protects us from pain.
it protects us from pleasure too.
for who would want to love
when loving someone can be so painful?
when falling from the peak of pleasure
can feel more painful
than never having it to begin with.
i know you've held the whole world
in your hands.
and i know you've been burned
by its core.
i know you've been scarred
but i know you haven't lost all sensation.
and i know you see my open hands
offering you a new world.
and yes, i know...
you don't believe what i'm saying.
but you will.
you will.
no matter how deep
your heart is buried,
my love will be the shovel.
she steps into her cocoon;
a small, dark room of her own construction.
she begins a slow transformation;
creating beauty in ways no one thought possible.
she seems full of madness;
but unexplained madness is the story of our universe.
she paints and is painted;
the darkness of her life is no barrier.
she has finally created something divine;
and then -- light!
they covered you up with six feet of dirt,
but nothing i know will undo this hurt.
my tears flow -- an uncontrollable sluice --
as i am gripped by grief that won't let loose.

i have no need for time, no need for space,
no need for movement, and no need for pace;
i have no need for needs, no need for wants;
a life without you is a life that haunts.

the sun has been dismantled, and for good,
for only darkness stands where light once stood.
the stars have been put out, the moonlight too;
my world has no light, for my light was you.

but darkness becomes the thief of all thieves --
stealing red from roses and green from leaves;
taking blue from oceans, and blue from skies;
leaving only broken hearts and blind eyes.
do not read
my poems
if you will not
read me.

i jumped
from a bridge
and woke up
in the hospital.
apparently
the "DNR"
i wrote
in marker
on my chest
had washed away.
or maybe
they had washed
it away.
i left a note
and it said
"do not read"
as if
anyone
could ever
resist such
an invitation.
and all i wrote
inside was:
"what did
i tell you?"

["i love you."
that is what
*i told you.]
calliope spoke to me last night.
she asked me, with light in her eyes:
"what if our real lives begin
when we fall asleep?"
i didn't answer
because sometimes beauty leaves
one speechless and in awe.
but i smiled.
and as she moved throughout the room,
i felt a sense of wonder.

but sometimes beauty leaves.
and as i awoke,
i realized that i missed
someone from a dream
more than i had missed anyone
else in my entire life.
and i thought to myself as the sunlight
reached for me through the window:
"when i die, i hope
calliope is there to greet me."
close your eyes, and perhaps in doing so,
you will dream a dream never dreamt before.
in this dreamt world there are insects that glow,
and language that won't make sense anymore.
with very strange phrases like "civil war,"
and even stranger like "life after death."
there will be giant metal birds that soar,
people underwater not holding breath.
they will call it the land of the free, with
stories of black men given syphilis.
and these stories are labeled fact, not myth,
but still something historians will miss.

of course, this all seems unlikely to me.
now open your eyes, tell me what you see.
many look,
but not
many see
what you offer.
i hold you,
with my eyes
closed,
and somehow
i see more
than anyone
ever has.
and perhaps
that is one
of the many
wonders
of the world.
when i look
at you
i see you.
i bought a bag of gummy bears when i was seven
and with each fallen bear i began counting off:
"she loves me, she loves me not, she loves me..."
i had been married at age 5 but i guess it hadn't worked out
the way we both may have thought at the time.
so i was hoping for love
and asking the gummy bear gods to bless me.
but as i finished, i ended on "she loves me not."
and that nearly made me lose all faith in my delicious friends.
but as i was sadly preparing to throw my bag in the trash
i found one last green gummy bear hiding in the corner.

*"she loves me!"
she leaned on my shoulder once and in that
moment i knew we loved each other more
than those around us could perceive.  but that
is often the way it should be.  i think

i gave her that hoodie in an attempt
to hug her even when i'm not there. and
although i fear the world may be too cold,
i will not stop trying to keep her warm.
they tore down the paintings;
they tore down the walls themselves.
and all to deconstruct a world
they would later attempt to reconstruct.
but reconstruction through deconstruction
is never an easy task;
never something looked upon in a noble light.
for the kings,
with their regal gowns,
would hang
these men shattering the windows
so that people could truly
see the world.

they stepped to right of their left hemispheres;
they stepped out of their bodies completely.
and demanded that each of us
do the same in whatever way we could.
but we couldn't, and we wouldn't,
because the life of comfort
is always something gained by keeping the poor in the dark.
for the poor,
with their simple hearts, would cry
out to these men tearing down art,
and shield their eyes
from the sun.

they shouted to the kings -- "ignorance!"
they shouted to the poor -- "blindness!"
and all to reach the gods,
who smiled down on all of mankind.
but mankind, never could seem to smile
when trying to reach the gods,
who lived in a world of infinite time, space, and color.
for the gods,
with skin the color of water, would watch
all of these men leaving no stone unturned,
when all they had to do was look
to the stars.
if you were at the bottom of the ocean,
i would die before i reached you.
but i would reach you.
and my last breath would be for you.
i once learned that respiration
is the process of inspiration
and expiration.
if you were at the bottom of the ocean,
i would die before i reached you.
but i would reach you.
and i would still be breathing.
it's ridiculous that we say "bless you" when you sneeze and not when you cough.  i'm pretty sure coughing is a sign of a much more grave illness.  when is the last time someone died from sneezing?  (june 24th, 2006 -- anthony dean rice)  it's ridiculous that dock ellis pitched his one and only career no-hitter while under the influence of LSD.  i wonder how often he dosed before games.  it's ridiculous that being hit by my father has turned me into more of a pacifist than i ever thought possible.  it's ridiculous how much someone can love a man that made him or her feel more physical pain than anyone ever has.  it's ridiculous that being family allows you this nearly unconditional love.  it's ridiculous that my goal has been to love everyone unconditionally.  it's ridiculous how hard this truly is.  it's ridiculous that people cite the holy bible as evidence for why homosexuality is "unnatural" and yet fail to recall that eating shellfish is an abomination.  it's ridiculous that anyone can be against the marriage of two loving people of the same gender while having no problem with laws that allow marriage between a convicted child molester and a person who cheated on his or her first three spouses.  it's ridiculous that i even have to point that out.  it's ridiculous that michael phelps lost more endorsements after being photographed smoking marijuana than he did after pleading guilty to driving while impaired.  it's ridiculous that driving drunk, hopping a curb, and hitting a mother walking home can earn you 20 years in prison while driving drunk, hopping a curb, and hitting a mailbox will only earn you 2 days in jail, 3 years probation, and a fine.  the only difference is one person had better luck -- both were still driving while intoxicated.  it's ridiculous that i was born into such a loving family.  why do i deserve such favorable moral luck?  it's ridiculous that people don't seem to understand that borders on a map are just lines...not  lines indicating some moral difference; not lines indicating you are worth more than the person in the country across the globe; not lines indicating that we matter and they don't...they're just lines.  it's ridiculous that i walk around with my eyes closed for no apparent reason.  it's ridiculous that i fell and got a concussion while trying to jump over a sign.  it's ridiculous that this hasn't stopped me from continuing to jump over almost anything in my path.  it's ridiculous that i was so confused after hitting my head that i cried and had to sit still and wait for my friends to find me because i didn't know what day it was or where i was.  it's ridiculous that the last time i cried out of confusion was when i was four and the elevator doors closed before my mom realized that i hadn't followed her out of the elevator.  it's ridiculous that i can fall in love with your smell...even when you haven't showered for a few days.  it's ridiculous that i feel a strange sensation in my right hand when i am exposed to a beauty i know i can't have.  it's ridiculous that i feel that when i am around you.  it's ridiculous that you are so beautiful it makes my heart feel like it just might explode.  it's ridiculous that i have no doubt that giving you everything would be the best decision i ever made.  it's an easy gamble to make because i know you would give me more than i ever started with.  it's ridiculous that you move my heart more than anyone ever has.  it's ridiculous that you become infused into every aspect of my life.  it's ridiculous that this began as a letter to anyone and turned into a letter to only one.  it's ridiculous that some people reading this still think i am listing things worthy of ridicule.  perhaps these things are all still absurd...but i have stopped laughing.  it's ridiculous that even with a broken heart, i will never stop loving people.  it's ridiculous that anyone would even think i could.
i cried on my way to school today.
and i will cry again.
about teej.
about life.
about love.
about sadness.
about pain.
about the world.
i will cry again.
and i will bite down
on my index and middle fingers
and pretend they're a gun.
and the moment will pass.
and i will cry again.
and i will laugh again.
and i will feel happiness again.
and i will live again.

**and i will cry again.
i once wrote
"with you, oxygen turns to gold.
and i know in my heart
that all this beauty is worth the weight."
did i really know
what those words meant?

i once dreamt
that i lived on a farm
and i fed the cows strawberries,
hoping to make strawberry milk.
did i really know
what dreams were made of?

i once loved
a girl with ocean-eyes.
and, of course,
i love her still.
did i really know
the weight of the sun?
the day
you were born
was really just
a death sentence.
the day
i met her
was really just
the beginning

...of everything.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1zckRVwc-cA
i remember the afternoon i thought i would die.
i remember the sun shining on our faces as we lay on the concrete.
i remember thanking the sun for making you so happy.
i remember the slow dance our bodies did to follow the sunlight.
i remember the music playing between us.
i remember falling off-beat every so often and finding a new place to regain our rhythm.
i remember the stares from strangers as they witnessed this beautiful sequence.
i remember ignoring the outside world and yet feeling more connected to it than ever before.
i remember wanting to hold you, but being happy just to stare.
i remember the flow of your hair and, when i was close enough, the smell.
i remember the curve of your ear, your nose, your neck.
i remember the simplicity of life in that moment.
i remember wanting to never leave that place.
i remember knowing that we had already left the place i wanted to stay.
i remember time and space continuing to move us away from it.
i remember the light fading, never to return.
i remember my passion growing, always to remain.
i remember my life passing before my eyes.
i remember staring at you and feeling all of the world's beauty in a single moment.
i remember the world collapsing on itself.
i sometimes wonder what a just punishment for suicide would be.
some might believe it's hell but that seems too cruel.
some might believe it's heaven but that seems too kind.
i have no belief on the matter but still i wonder.
and although i am no arbiter on the issue,
i have decided on what that punishment should be.
when people take their own life,
they should wake up to a world that remains unchanged.
a world with all of their problems,
and all of their pain;
a world where they are forced to continue living.
hell would be too expected,
heaven would be too rewarding.
but wouldn't it be both cruel and kind to give them another chance?
they may not want it,
but they would learn from it.
and that should be the goal of any punishment.

*deep down, that will be what i hope for when i jump.
stop.
breathe.
slow.
leeee.

my heart races as i watch your gentle paces but everything you do seems gentle and every time i see you it's monumental because my mind moves so fast it even falls behind itself as if a thousand thoughts are moving, but with stealth, because as i see you walking by, each second seems to beckon a thousand more thoughts, leaving me a thousand times more fraught with emotions i never do process, yet in acknowledging this i have made progress, progress that will undoubtedly be undone by some internal battle that remains unwon and unlost, a stalemate between two sides fighting for the same thing, my hands stuck to my face like a magnet to a steel plate, two things uniting oppositely charged particles, as my brain continues to write this long, boring, hopeless article, understanding that as you walk away, the feeling doesn't stay... and everything.... slows..... down...... in....... the........ worst......... kind.......... of........... way............

don't.
leave.
love.
meeee.
simplicity,
in the city that isn't a city,
in the life you wish to live, but don't,
in the moments that seem far longer than they actually are.

gravity,
in the air, the weightless air,
in the physics of everything, even love,
in the way you are held to the world only by what you feel.
i think
i once read
salvador dalí
dreamed of worlds
full of divine creatures
that fell from the sky like
comets falling from the heavens.
and in his dreams, these creatures
appeared to be different from others.
they reflected a new beauty, a new way
to see the world.  and although he attempted
to create art so that others could see what he saw,
many thought that he was a madman.  many thought
that he was seeing a world that didn't exist; that couldn't --
but if you see it, who are we to say it doesn't exist; who are we?
salvador dalí once claimed to be both an anarchist and a monarchist.
i like to believe this is possible...if one believes in a world full of kings.
people probably thought dalí was viewing the world through drug-filled eyes,
but dock ellis pitched his one and only no-hitter while under the influence of LSD.
dalí saw, and created, surrealism because there is no other way to see and create the world.
but dock ellis pitched his one and only no-hitter while under the influence of LSD.
people probably thought dalí was viewing the world through drug-filled eyes,
i like to believe this is possible...if one believes in a world full of kings.
salvador dalí once claimed to be both an anarchist and a monarchist.
but if you see it, who are we to say it doesn't exist; who are we?
that he was seeing a world that didn't exist; that couldn't --
many thought that he was a madman.  many thought
to create art so that others could see what he saw,
to see the world.  and although he attempted
they reflected a new beauty, a new way
appeared to be different from others.
and in his dreams, these creatures
comets falling from the heavens.
that fell from the sky like
full of divine creatures
dreamed of worlds
salvador dalí
i once read
i think
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-ZQWpqvzjBE
last spring,
in firenze,
i met a girl -
we'll call her julia
(because that's her name) -
this one strange night
behind a secret bakery
that's open at midnight.
i was standing
on a small street
in italy
surrounded
by drunken chaos,
the smell of pastries,
and beauty.
how will i ever
forget her?
why would i ever
even try?
http://markusaurelius.bandcamp.com/

[ALL of the proceeds go to GiveWell, a charity... this is me begging you...
this is me begging you... to buy my album... and help my life...
mean more than an empty champagne bottle...
and a leap from a bridge...]


you could save a life.
not mine,
but a little money
can go a long
way.
it can't go
to the past
to undo all
the horrors
of time.
but still,
it can go
a long way.
...
i cried
for twenty minutes
[
or was it hours?
or was it days?
or was it years?*]
in the bathroom
outside
of the movie theater.
and yes,
i thought about it -
jumping from a bridge.
i still think about it.
but first
i wrote music,
and then
i wrote more.
and now...
"twelve years a slave" is the song i want to be heard... i may have taken a break from crying... but i haven't stopped...
you could not perceive
my place in the world.
you could not believe
that i often hurled
myself through brick walls
just to see you smile.
i cannot recall
if life was worthwhile.

i will not be missed.
i do not exist.
1
the old man watches
his wife fill cups of coffee;
he finds the sugar.

2
raining and raining --
summer's reward: the rainbow.
what is for breakfast?

3
with winter in bloom,
warmth and flowers are alive,
and graves are still green.

4
the royal palace --
a sign of displaced culture.
oh, the majesty.

5
As sun and sea meet,
faces brighten in the dark
as alcohol flows.

6
birds of paradise
hiding the boy's pet rabbit.
such a mellow child.

7
i find the bracelets,
but they are for another,
as aged hands cut fruit.

8
golden fireworks;
a true midsummer night's dream
made for young lovers.

9
holding hands, watching
purple twilight and green sea;
a brilliant union.

10
so close to japan,
but this place is not made for
the cherry blossoms.

11
enjoying french toast
as i think of the friendly
australian woman.

12
i'm an old young man,
both naïve and hardened like
fried green tomatoes.

13
the haiku devolved
within the english language --
more words, less meaning.

14
the one thing i've learned:
hope to be kissed by the sun,
hope not to get burned.
weightless,
a rush of heat,
indescribable.
this is what
one would feel
living at the center
of the earth.
and yet,
here you are
pulling me
closer and closer.
surrounded by the smell of smoke and fire;
aware that they were about to expire;
fear settled in, they began to perspire;
they faced fate in a way one could admire;
visions of heaven, these flames did inspire;
angels, in their glorious white attire;
both singing together as one great choir;
as their two spirits rose higher and higher.

*1603, age of religious ire
5:38 P.M.  december 20, 1979.  san antonio, texas.*

hey mom, how is everything back at home?
life here isn't bad so please don't cry.
the sun is setting, and it's strange
to watch the day fade away
but it's beautiful too.
please don't cry.
time's up.

bye.
my heart, my heart, my heart --
how do you speak with no vocal chords?
how do you ache with so few nerve endings?
how do you move suns and moons with such small mass?*

the enchanted axe removed each limb,
one by one, bringing nick chopper down to size,
and gave him a body full of tin.
however, in attempting to heal his wounds,

the tinsmith failed to replace his heart,
and the tin woodsman was no longer
able to love the one to whom he had given his heart.
and he continued to live this way for years.

===

how i envy the heartless,
how i envy the ones who feel pain, but not
the pain of the heart, the pain of the soul.
there are times i want to rip my own heart out.

the gravity of such a decision
was hardly noticed, the way gravity
is hardly noticed -- a force we do not fight.
so, of course, i said it -- "i love you."

and in that moment the earth moved
beneath my feet.  i felt the tilt of its axis;
i felt the weight of the world; i felt it all.
and of course, my frame was far too slight.

i felt a piercing pain, i could not move,
and i feared the worst.  there are very few
maladies that cause paralysis and sharp pains
all over the mind and body.  but

this was nothing new, this was nothing
i hadn't felt before.  to have a heart,
to feel a heart, to know a heart,
is to feel unimaginable pain.

my own words have become my enchanted axe;
my own heart has removed each limb
and replaced them with tin.  and yet my heart remains.
is that a better fate than having no heart at all?
if i were to hand you
a green stem,
would you believe that
a flower could bloom from it?
there are stars
that burn so brightly
from so far away
that even when they die,
there will still be light
reaching us
from years in the past.
would you believe
that's how big the world is?
and yet you -
you are the one
who fills me with wonder.
dear brother,

there is $50 on my book shelf.
in between "the chronicles of narnia"
and "william shakespeare: the complete works."
i haven't finished reading either.
please forgive me.
and, please,
spend the money on a stranger -
i heard that will make you happier
than spending it on yourself.

love.
and more love.

mark
we could spend time
counting stars
as if there was nothing
left to do in the world.
we could spend time
as if time was money
and we were richer
than any king and queen.

we could spend time
together.
i just want to dance
in tie-dyed onesies
while drinking
whiskey
on a friday night.

i just want to laugh
and cry
and feel safe
wrapped
in your arms.

i just want to eat
all the pizza
and all the pastries
like tomorrow
doesn't matter.

i just want to run
through fields
of sunshine
and sunflowers
with you.
[...for ****]
...and
i fell in love
again.
with the world.
with my friends.
and
with a girl
who brightens
every moment
we share together.

— The End —