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 Jun 2014 jo forstrom
HiJinx
I catch a glimpse of my / utopia in your scintillating eyes / I sense peace in your touch / and hear salvage in the beating of your heart under my ear / perhaps I am too idealistic about the perhaps of us although / I have nothing but sour memories and / skeletons in my overflowing bedroom closet / I cling to the possibility there is / some decent people out there / I have brought proper weapons to this war / my heart has back up this time / I refuse to be hurt anymore
He knew.
That's all she could think about.

He knew.
And she had no clue how.

He knew.
And that a mystery profound.

He knew.
But didn't give her the runaround.

HE KNEW.
And stayed to be her wolfhound.

He knew.
This is love, no doubt.

She knew
His promise is his vow.
 Jun 2014 jo forstrom
Mikaila
Two missed calls.
There is a little message that blinks
On the screen of my phone.
Two missed calls.
It threw a milky glow upon the room
All night last night,
Flaring and fading.
I'd only have to touch it to make it stop.
Two missed calls
From the night my life changed
Again.
From the time I held my phone and
Stared
Down at your name as it rang
And rang
And rang
Transfixed.
Petrified.
I wonder what they saw-
My friends, who watched the color drain
From my cheeks,
Watched my gaze latch onto that little screen
As if it were the barrel of a gun.
They stopped talking.
They stopped asking if I was okay, too,
After a moment,
And there we all were
Frozen
Them in uncertainty
Me in shock and fear
And the only sound in the entire world was that phone
Buzzing.
It rang in my hands
And then stopped.
And then instantly began again,
Your picture glowing on its black surface.
And I stared at it.
I felt dizzy.
I felt...cold.
As if I was floating just a little bit
Above and behind my own body
And the air could get through me
To all the little places that air
Is never supposed to touch
And I was so
Cold.
Two missed calls
Before I finally scrambled away,
Locked myself in the bathroom and answered.
My voice
Bounced off the tiles
And made me flinch.
It was
Flat
And quiet,
But my shaking hands did not make it quiver as well.
Your voice hit me like a freight train
And spattered my soul upon the softly lit walls
And I answered you with short, monotone whispers
Staring at my own black eyes in the mirror
Trying to find a person inside them,
But I couldn't.
For that moment
I was a shell
Staring at an empty reflection.
I stared and she stared and even together
We couldn't add up to anything close to alive.
It was like being turned to stone,
Like being flash frozen.
Like already being dead and feeling your limbs cool and stiffen.
As you spoke
I got more
And more
And more
Still
Until only my eyes and lips moved
In the mirror.
My breaths were shallow
Because my lungs were paralyzed-
Stuck
At the size they'd been
When you dialed my number.
You
You
You

It echoed off the walls when I hung up.
You
You
You
You
You

And if I'd been able to
Maybe I'd have cried,
Or smiled,
Or gotten sick or collapsed.
But instead I stared at my own blank,
Smooth,
Paralyzed face in somebody else's bathroom mirror,
Tried to make my eyes blink.
Tried to make my chest rise and fall.
Tried to arrange these
Suddenly unfamiliar features
Into something that wouldn't terrify the people
Waiting for me in the living room.
Waiting to care.
Waiting to comfort.
Waiting to fail.
You
You
You

Are the only thing that can reach inside of me.
You
You
You
You
You

I heard it, tinny and layered. It filled that little room
With its smartly matched sink and tiles
And its soothing light gold walls.
It painted everything
A corroded white,
Powdery and metallic tasting,
And the ceiling
Bent.
And I
Stared at my black eyes in the mirror,
Too numb to reach the fear
Or the hope
That I knew was coursing through my veins.
Since that night,
Those two missed calls
Have remained missed.
Remained a little reminder
To throw patterns on my walls in the middle of the night.
I can't
Delete them.
I can't
Resolve them...
They changed my life.
They stay.
 Jun 2014 jo forstrom
Mikaila
Maybe before the world was made
Before anything ever lived
You and I
Were a star that exploded.
Two atoms that crashed into one another
Defying physics
And destroyed an entire galaxy
For one moment of true contact.
Maybe that
Is why we are so
Inevitable
And so
Violent.
And so
Afraid.
The firewood kept beside the fence post was soggy, surly was the evening weather, and Mother Nature was redefining the word torrential
A drop to the eye, rendering it senseless. On one side of the spectrum, a crystal or a rock comes from dirt. Although that other side, the side of the spectrum that enlightens by color. A yellow or a blue or a red are useful.
So by that exploitation will become the
puzzle pieces of which the artist creates. Imagine having a thought cross and be ignored. Saying that, maybe the Earth isn't flat, and maybe a Christmas card is not as commercial as it is ceremonial. Perception is one side to say, but the gentleman pouring gasoline on a fire is far from the man asking for a drink shaken, not stirred.
When the fire becomes everlasting, water will not quench a thirst for destruction, and that is because there has never been an accident that could ever be everlasting. The man that knows that does not exit the house with a helmet. He simply raises the proverbial glass and swallows what is in front of him. At times the end brings a sweetness. The only other times are consumed with a bitterness. One that an artist knows as he takes his shot of whiskey, but not of the man that is readily available to set himself on fire. That is a drop of rain on your tongue. At the beginning it is too fragile to become a warning, but at the end it is what separates lands and lives. That is why saltwater and tears aren't that much different.
 Jun 2014 jo forstrom
l m
Just pack up all your feelings, emotions and memories in boxes and hand them out to strangers because it's better than giving them to him
(          

          )
<>      
)                                
•                                        
(                                                  
<>                              

(  •  )

////

No

No more

No more foolishness

••

We build
We tear down

We give birth
We ****



( what is born ?
What dies ? )

/////

The child walks

The streets surround

He finds the truth

By truth he's found

////

The rainy dream streaked

With melancholy

and such brazen memories

••

WE
WEalth
WE


you & HE
HEalth
HE



All is simple

All --- so simply revealed

////

Come

The dream streets

So dimly filled

With light

So passionately striving

To be seen as wilderness

Flaming brightly

Let's be there
he was the kind of boy you'd
break all the rules for,
but you didn't know he'd break you.
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