I get flashes of our first meeting
like airplanes you mistake for twinkling stars
covered in paint our glazed pupils locked
wooden steps that swayed like the curve of my back
your mouth halfway inside me at 6 am on a spring morning
or was it winter?
stumbling back into my arms in a place we call 'sanctuary'
And that's always it.
Why can I only look you dead in the eyes when they're crossing?
We could stopped the universe, because we do every time we kissed.
Like we can't stop sipping
Hangovers like ropes around my head
What's going to happen when we wake up?
When the dust clears?
Why are we still torturing each other through rye flavored teeth?
Relief is paradox and a vicious cycle
inspired by "Sober" by Lorde, and "Relief Next to Me" by Tegan and Sara. I will be using this piece in an upcoming performance.
The Five train trails pass my balcony under dim
Fluorescent lights flickering beneath towering oaks
Canopying high above and yet,
Still below the placid night sky
Two small girls sing atop our concrete division in
Shapes of adorable keys about love and how they'll
Whilst several men two slabs across
Discuss the gossip of their lives under, but yet within
Billows of smokey haze
While I write them out briefly in the cool breeze amongst
Plumes of misty clouds,
The moon dimly shimmering through their cloak.
The Five train right on time.
If only the world could always be as such.
A brief silence.
I close my eyes, the humming of airplanes over above the
Bellows of my thoughts, the thumping of my heart in sync
With the cricket's harp, and wonder if it's God I feel
When the richness of these particle like moments fill me
The world feels content.
Nature feels alive.
Life feels at peace.
The Five train right on time, thumping along the tracks conjoined
With the night's serenade.
Je me demande comment vous êtes et si vous pensez à moi quand le temps le permet. Probablement pas, mais je pense à vous.
Two birds flying at night crash into each other
and as they spin falling from a cloud of feathers and starlight
they are reminded of a time before they learned how to fly...
Will we fold into each others secrets
would we fit each other like a spoon
won't you take my hand and chase stars with me
we'll catch them if they fall
and bury them in the backyard of our childhood dreams
so we can always find our way back there
Chase the shoreline
fly with a flock of airplanes
we'll signature the moon
as we dance our footprints upon the clouds
swim with me through an ocean of bed sheets
and Sunday mornings
and we'll chase dinosaurs from our bedroom
The warmest place in the world is next to you
let me sip coconuts in your arms
won't you plant my name behind your tongue
that it may bloom in a garden of your smiles
We'll find a beach to name after our children
and serenade the ocean as it refuses to stop kissing the shore
we'll use toothbrushes as tuning forks
fake a limp at new years eve and ride the elevator to the highest floor
and dance with me above the skyline
'cause if you sing me a lullaby of forgiveness
I will keep you from all the broken promises
we can finger paint sunrises on each other skin
Be orphans with me
so that we can name each other
the way we once named the stars
as if the constellations held the promise
we could find our way home
And now there would come a time
a swift sharp clock on the bed
Blaring its little chime in between the hard bells
Like an angry little arm
Charming if not for the alarm
And everyday I slap the face of it
Like an unwanted *****
And she is silenced
But I am a cruel guy and have no sense of wet and dry
Nor cool or heat
There's nothing bothering me
Time just ticks off and I laugh at it
But my cells divide and turn into little old protoplasmic men
And yet I am not called upon them
Because they are stupidly designed and I have no sympathy for arts and crafts
who failing to raise his hand
With such poor artwork
Slap that ***** in the dilapidated sistan
Now In San Francisco
Where the alley streets stink of ***
And the European facades are just that
And full of ****
And what yet are they dreaming to be?
The church that survived fire
God didn't make a rainbow at the end of that,
Now did he?
He's a water-sign
And water only jolts your mind
When it scatters true light,
Ain't that right?
But it's all the same
Just different hues
And the news
Just Blaring and yelling
And speeding television crews
Riding their stories
Up and down the many stories
Trying to build a city of angels
On a bituminous hill
No life skills
And I walk the city streets with a ugly old leather
Casing the joints and rolling my own
Unhappy and alone
Kerouac and the dreams on the monangular input where the triangular avenues meet
And he has no road
While airplanes shake their jets on the tarmac and trebuchet into the air
Going god knows where
Seeing a new piece of the sculpted pinball
Perpetually trapped in the machine
How bout Nippon
Or Han Chinese
Anywhere but when
A little ways along the state
All these strange things