#trips
I’ve always had this thought,
Will you remember me?
I tried to please you,
In my ways,
With tiny gifts,
The ones I thought,
Clumsily,
Would make your lovely heart
Vibrate.
Little, innocent jokes,
Here and there,
That would make
Your cute laugh fly high,
In the skies,
Chasing happy birds.
Recurring stories,
Built together,
One word said
And I'd know,
Your smile would shine,
And light me up...
Creating memories,
Exploring wonders,
Unplanned trips,
In foreign places,
That got us excited for days,
And we’d speak about forever.
We built connection,
Created depth,
Spent hours repainting life,
Over bright seas,
Burning under the moon.
Sometimes I wonder,
If I simply wasn’t
Too selfish.
The sheer passion I felt,
Seeing your ojitos beaming,
A truly mystical feeling,
Unmatched to this day.
Now I see you
Doing great,
Following your wonders,
Chasing bright skies,
What a delightful sight.
Still,
I can’t help but wonder,
If I’ll ever make it,
To your safe
Cosy diary.
You’ve filled mine,
And surely
The ones to come,
My pen probably knows you,
More than I do.
But a fool still hopes,
That in the memory
Of your life,
I’ll have at least
A tiny line.
Feb 15
Feb 15, 2026 at 1:03 PM UTC
Being young seems to be a lethal thing,
It's hard to see future days,
When there's so much haze,
Over today.
Falling back feels worse,
When you were just there,
And it's hard to resist giving painful people second chances,
Because I can't see my future soulmate,
As good as others can.
At least not finding them,
I can visualize them.
Someone a little similar to me,
But not exactly the same.
I'd like to be a little taller too if that's okay,
But that's really it.
I just want somebody,
That I love,
Who loves me back the same.
Aug 2, 2025
Aug 2, 2025 at 9:41 PM UTC
Sounds dreams art form
In age norm- brainstorm
Wake -up alarm rainstorms
Carmel Clouds
Barking noises and hounds
Chasing to be found
Sandstorm
Monstrous- snowstorm
Dreams to heal
In uniform
Please no harm
love embraces
Chasing the wrong faces
Gazing- engaging- singing
Dreams touch a nerve
Reacting jump ringing*
Chasing and saving
Memory of words
Wild child-hummingbirds
Floating in the air taps
No time like a normal nap
The cell phone pictures
and apps
Chasing big stir coffee sips
Valuable time trips
Chasing our dreams
Is real what it seems?
Lips* met* the *sunset
Eyes water love just met
Chasing- raging- event
Lullaby Lighthouse
Does your dreams make any sense?
Jun 14, 2023
Jun 14, 2023 at 8:02 AM UTC
It was a beautiful Sunday morning
A day after Christmas
Barely had I drifted
Into a gentle slumber
Full of colourful fantasies
Involving a vehicle with thousand wheels
Than I was jolted awake
By the sheer cacophony
Of my mobile alarm
It was just the crack of dawn
And it took me a minute to realise
Why I had to be up and about
At such an odd hour
That too on a Sunday
A massive trek lay ahead of us
After a hot water bath
Followed by a cup
Full of piping hot filter coffee
We were ready to head out
In a medium-sized car
After a long drive
It was time for a break
In order to recharge our batteries
With a delightful breakfast
Full of South Indian delicacies
After yet another marathon drive
Senjikottai finally welcomed us
With open arms
After exploring the Kalyana Mahal
With its artfully decorated interiors
It was time for the real challenge
The trek up the mountains
That loomed over us
It was a daunting task, no doubt
But certainly not an impossible one
Especially if we stuck together
After all, we were family
And what does family do
But stick together
Especially when presented with a challenge?
And so the climb began
Through a winding and twisting path
Full of sand and rocks
A path with more twists
Than an Agatha Christie ****** mystery
The Sun God showed no mercy on us
With every step we took
Sweat poured out in buckets
And that was not all
The steps were so uneven
That it was a miracle
To be able to cover even a hundred metres
Without slipping on the way
And there were more hurdles
In the form of monkeys
A whole family of them
Spread around the mountains
And lying in wait
To nick some food and water
From the loaded bags
That we carried
On our already weary backs
In order to keep the monkeys at bay
We additionally had to carry sticks
Thus adding to our burden
By the time we were halfway up
The sheer weight of the task
Was already beginning to tell on us
Our limbs were aching
Our palms were shaking
Our heads were throbbing
And I wanted nothing more
Than to go home
And crash on my bed
However, we were wise enough
To take short breaks here and there
During which we refuelled
Taking gulps of water
To fill our parched throats
Moreover, the view of the countryside
Was getting better and better
And it was this
That ultimately propelled us
To carry on and finish the task
So on we marched
Sweating and panting
Slipping and stumbling
But never giving up
Till we reached the very top
And there stood before us
Gingee Fort, in all its glory
With a stunning countryside
Full of lakes and hills
Trees, roads and buildings
A sight fit to dazzle
Even the most cynical of skeptics
A sight fit to melt a heart of stone
As we basked in the glory
Of an arduous and extremely tiring
But ultimately successful climb
I felt incredibly thankful
For deciding to undertake this trek
For it was one of my best moments of 2021
Jan 2, 2022
Jan 2, 2022 at 10:55 AM UTC
Dearest Britni,
I was warmed by your thermal tub, the belly of your indiscretions and the way you held those mule-hearts
in plastic jars beneath the cupboard where your favorite cups and coins were kept. The magic beat of your fingertips made my skin jump crazy out of my shirt and pants. I wonder if the turnover has always been this way for you, meaning to say, when the trips always ended did you take back the second pillow into the other room, where your ivory curtains opened, and did you feel the need to lock the door to your bedroom.
The word, 'house guest' implies less visitation privileges than actually took place. I believe it was more of an involved visit. There were certainly visitation privileges but there was also visitation writ. I had to keep my jeans clean. There were no shoes allowed in the bed. And extracurricular activities were kept to their time tables-- that is to stay that spontaneity occurred only when it fit into the time table. I was never much for making you lunch in the morning. It has always been difficult for me to think of the meals before they happened, though I knew what was in every drawer, every closet, every cabinet. The insides and outs of a decade of dreams.
In short time I became mesmerized with the perfect patterns in your arms and on your legs. I could crook my head in a way to look at the sunset from under your arm or stand on a chair to look down at the top of your head. And then one day you told me I was weird.
This time I wanted to be fulfilled. I did not want to miss a thing. I made sure to slide my fingers in between your toes, I squeezed the bottoms of your feet with the bottoms of my feet. There are many recitals, many performances, and even more personal encounters that cannot be recalled to mind, but I am sure they happened. If I had the opportunity I would attempt to pick your nose again. Something I did every chance I had though you abhorred it. To lick the side of your face, the bottom of your chin, the interior of your armpit, the lengths of your legs, and the rims of your lips-- I lived our life to the fullest.
All interactions were encouraged. We played in sunlight, in nightlight, during day showers, and ate by the seaside. We traveled to four states, two lakes, and two oceans. We drove in excess of 20,000 miles, received fifty-seven parking tickets, five speeding tickets, thirty-five thousand two hundred eighty four compliments, fifty-two salutations, fifteen, "you're an adorable couple," three hundred complimentary access, two free tickets to a museum exhibition, took over one hundred fifty flights between the two of us, and received your father's permission. We slept in showers, swam in baths, and drank from swimming pools. We shared the bathroom, the bed, and the kitchen sink. I memorized how many times you rolled over when sleeping, and you told me what I talked about in my sleep. I knew the five places you lived at and the four places you wanted to. We danced in nightclubs, in bars, in schoolyards, in back seats and bedrooms, and ballrooms. There were fifteen black tie events, one wedding, and over two hundred concerts. I wrote over fifty thousand poems made over three hundred paintings, and took somewhere around twenty-eight thousand pictures. I once took you to breakfast every morning for a week and dinner every night. I bought you one hundred twenty six cups of coffee, fifty-two cocktails, and one Shirley Temple. I only had to help you change clothes thrice, but I helped you undress over a thousand. I always remembered to lift up you hair if I helped you put on a jacket, and never made you walk on the street side.
There were over 2,000 bands and artists I introduced you too. You taught me about fashion, about photography, about being a good person. We sang in the shower, sang in the car, whispered before falling asleep. I sent you dozens of flowers and you watered them all.
In my favorite yellow chair I do not have any regrets or any wants. I fulfilled a life time in two years. I was an upstanding gentleman, always. And then out of the blue you didn't want me to touch you anymore. One time in an airport in DC we ran 48 terminals to see each other again. You taught me not to be afraid of flying, that it's important to be myself. And when it ended the first time I wrote you two letters a day for three months.
Tomorrow when I wake up I will make the bed, put the music on, smoke a cigarette, then take a shower. Afterwards I will get dressed, grab my belongings and go get four shots of espresso like I have been doing every day for the past five years. Everything will be the same. At the end of the day, after work, after listening to a plethora of music, talking to a plethora of people, I will not talk to you. After two years two years and 2,163 phone calls, I will not talk to you for two days in a row. I will lay in my bed and count the mews, but I miss the weight on the mattress, the heat of your whole, the temperature of your voice, and the redolence of your perfume, but I will have no regrets when I rollover thrice, to the right, to the left, and to the right.
Dec 17, 2020
Dec 17, 2020 at 4:03 PM UTC
A gad fly, a drunken blue fly, and I were
discussing
the curse of being a fly, if men were the measure of all things.
We rise as riders on winds,
and raise
dust when we land, ignorant of sophistry,
but knowledgeable, i.e., read-up
in classic biblical
knowing. {you know, as Adam knew his wife}
Yeah that idea,
essentiality and haecceity, causa sui,
per se, in other words, we could
insert and
still mean
mere words {digitized wisdom begins as words}
reading words makes them animated, not live, not living
being
words, reason essence, point of truth being
the answer to why there is a memory of nothing,
and not nothing now?
Idle words accounted once, are ever liable to personal
interpretations, thus we have classes in
ifity.
We learn via living, that every thing, even the matter the
newborn whatever is made of,
all
was here before me.
I am why history occurred, so far as I may say.
I am the point being only this
hominidiotic thought, they call an ideology and I am sure
I think it means some impossible to realize,
Leave It To Beaver sequel, where Eddie Haskell is the cop,
who squeezers the life out of a man, on video
we witnessed
enmasse, right we saw and were we to not believe
deep down what we saw could have been stopped,
if that camera had been in my hand?
Yeah, like me shove that big old cop, he shoot me,
Yeah, make ya famous. Name abridge too, feryerass
Maybe, but I heard and seems I seen its so,
many's the wish gone wanting,
for lack of a man who will try.
Say winning is done with warfare, no fair, child say,
bully child, was reared in a bullied home,
seed of some Minetaurical idea for rearing kings,
feed them bull hormones
and lies frome the wisest of men, men of letters,
many undicipherable but to the
survivors of the mazing,
The Amazing Grace and Pledges of Allegiance and all that,
nothing spiritual, only inspirational national pride,
very carnal minded stuff,
on the surface.
Hmm, gadfly, or blue, give us some perspective.
We seem to be marching,
as to war,
keep in cadence to a bull horn -- gnoshit this is gnostic alchemy
jungina ju ju wu wu wei
we must be making this up.
You the enabler.
I be the artist, who gone be the accuser?
-- games, y' think first, thank later, as each lesson teaches
this works, that don't
points add up, bit by bit, we begin, be-re-sit, ctrl/alt/del
blue screen of death.
ahhh men.
imagine we was once as **** as we imagined,
and we have the grandchildren to prove it.
imagine
we could leave these bodies behind,
and not lose our minds,
or any of the roles we have played.
This is like that. Today. It’s a trip, not a journey.
I'd take it from the top and feel safe landing here.
Sep 12, 2020
Sep 12, 2020 at 12:10 AM UTC
Did you ever,
Nail the sun to the wall then
Keep your mind's eye open, because,
you can.
It won't go blind,
your mind's eye, focused on the sun
nailed to the sky wall
As you curve away at the pace of
A Roman hoplite clone running
A million miles an hour
2000 years away from here
Very thin light now
To the east while watching,
Focusing, on the sun in the west
While you stand your
Ground.
Suppose this,
That came to be a rite of
Passage into the thin light
Of night
Many generations after
First father showed his third son.
Never has any deed done in light
Been banished by the night.
Light expands thinner ever
Thinner nacring light limning
Evermore
Even thin light from the shadow
side of things
Thins more, harmoniously
Mingling through ancient
Pearl layers billions upon
Billions of stars-light.
First father knew that
he talked with God,
Who does nothing without
Showing someone
Like me or you.
"make not your thoughts your prisons"
"go not, gently" into that thinning light
"be gone"
Photons stretched 2000 light years wide
1 photon deep
Colliding with some tomorrows,
Some yesterdays, some almost right now,
So thin yesterday, today, and tomorrow
Are the same as the same and
As thick as galaxies.
Did you nail the sun to the wall?
Aug 24, 2020
Aug 24, 2020 at 3:02 PM UTC
This has been a rough few week
Hah, more like months
Why are we dancing like this
Spinning 'round in circles
Never touching, never leaving
I can't be the only one who's tired of this
But can you imagine a life
Where we finally meet
Touch in the middle
Fall in love
I know that isn't me
But it could be
In a world where I'm strong
Where I can make you laugh
Sit in the back
Smiling and flash peace signs
Laughing in the halls
Would you still walk me to class
Hold my hand if I asked
I can imagine you when you drive
Screeching and dramatic
Blasting Boy Division and
Eyes glued to the road
We don't talk about serious things
In normal places
Words slip out into
Normal conversations
Bleeding from the edges
Are we closer now
Or further away
I have a lot of questions for you
That I'll never ask
Like if I'm good enough
If you could ever even love me
Why you asked about my boyfriend
And decided to confide
In the middle
Of a highschool cafeteria
It's not that I mind
I just want to ask why
Tomorrow, I won't see you
Will we still talk
Or will a silence fall
Like the snow that won't come
And deafen us forever
Will I sit with you again
Laugh with all your friends
You seemed happy enough
Was that what you wanted all along
Do you do what I do
Can you ever fall asleep
On a cloudy afternoon
Would you wake up
If I asked you to
If the sun was rising
From behind the clouds
If the blinds weren't down
Would you let me
Hold your hamster
And what was with those eyes
When I said the only thing I want
Is someone to sing
The other half
Of Promiscuous with me
Were you thinking about it
When you asked me to put you on my shoulders
At the MCR concert
What did you mean
When you said we'd go to a break room
For your birthday party
Who else would be there
I can't imagine
It'd just be me
And if we do meet
What does that mean
Can I pet your hair
Pick you up and run
While you struggle and giggle
And not quite scream
What did you mean
When you said your best friend was emo
Did you mean me
You were looking at me
Am I the closest thing you have
To a friend at this point
What happened last year
I can see you flunking
But not without reason
Who are you
Beneath all of your clothes
What made you this way
Who shaped you
Into the being
You are today
Can we lift sometime
Go to a shop
I can body block
Or maybe just hit the road
Complain about my family's
Unspiced plain taco meat
It's not my fault
They are like that
You know that too
I like that
Would you listen to a song
If I sent it to you
And I know that there's
A reason you left the friend group
Are you worth giving up
Everybody else
Something in me screams
That you just might be
And what if we do
What if we end up
In rural New Jersey
Driving up for the weekends
Or down to your apartment
To stay up and sleep in
Would you lay next to me
Stay up with me
Read and talk and ***** to me
Would you be everything I need
I couldn't be yours forever
I wouldn't be yours at all
And I can see you
With that stupid, self satisfied half smile
Hands on your hips
Androgynous
Content to let me
Be my own person
Yeah, I can see that
I can feel the rise and fall of your chest
Maybe we'll roadtrip
With your old friends who smoke ****
They could drive
Stay up all night
You'd fall asleep on me in the backseat
No stops in town
Just gas stations
And fields of grey grasses
Your friend would download
Really bad movies
Play them on an iPad
Propped up on the dashboard
Feet up, head back
Singing that life's just like that
We could pull over
To the side of the road
Get out, stretch our weary limbs
I can see you squatting down
Picking up rocks and stones
I wouldn't kiss you then
Maybe wouldn't ever
But I'd watch your back
Would you watch me back
Would you watch me too
Would you look in my eyes
And see something other
Than the standard grey blue
Would you find religion
In my hands and fingers
I hope you wouldn't
I don't want you to
Would you appraise my body
As just another creature
A vessel for my soul
And would you care
Would you stand with me
When it mattered
Or would you walk away
Would things be the same
As they were at the start
Shaking hands
Sitting on the floor, reading books
Swinging at the park
Maybe I know you now
What you're doing
Walking past me
Never looking back at me
You want me to follow you
Through highs and lows
Thick and thin
And I can't chase you forever
I don't even want to
But you saw something in me
You answered me
You remembered
National Emo Day
You asked me to play drums
While you played bass
You asked me what I thought
About your hair
You showed me your dogs
Texted me about bands
And I think you meant it
When you shook my hand
Greeted me
Asked to meet with me
Didn't ignore me
On the first day back
Even when you saw your friends
You sat outside in the cold
Rejected the good table
And put up with me
Even when my jokes didn't land
And I stepped on your toes
Crossed your lines
Wasted your time
So do you sleep in the light
Do you think there's a heaven
After this life
What happened with your parents
Where do you want to go
Have you ever loved someone
Do I really want to know
Who was that one ex
The one even skinnier than me
Will you laugh while I cry
Or will you look away from me
Are your scared of being broken
Or far past ready to break
Do you want to fall in love right now
Or will I have to wait
Dec 20, 2019
Dec 20, 2019 at 5:21 PM UTC
You remind me of Chai tea.
You're warm, and sweet, and you make me want to curl up with you on a rainy day, tangled in bedsheets and watching the rain pitter patter on the window, in my pajamas and my hair piled up atop my head, listening to soft music that speak of lazy love and croon of kisses.
You make me think of tan sweaters and unrecognizable spices, alluding to all the mystery I don't know and want to know, devouring you like I would a good book on a crisp autumn day. You make me want to take a road trip to a forest where the fog comes meandering in, and I sit in the backseat, talking about life-to me, to you, or my non-metaphorical, quite literal, tea.
You make me want to slow down, and sit in a coffee shop and work on a book, or admire the chipped mug that you came in.
You remind me of Chai tea, and all that we could be.
Jan 23, 2018
Jan 23, 2018 at 11:34 PM UTC
And there you were
Your eyes of moons
Your skin burning
Paper on the tongue
And there I was
My eyes resined red
Your little play thing
Your mademoiselle
Snap me in half
And who am I to talk?
I’m but poison
And that, that my darling,
Is why you will drink me
And then spit me out
And I will, once again,
Be Nothing.
May 21, 2017
May 21, 2017 at 2:54 PM UTC
Type all the thoughts
Tenderness Torture
Trips that tries the tendencies
Tempts till the tricky turns
Traces the track to transition
Type these trending thoughts
Turn the trap on
May 15, 2017
May 15, 2017 at 2:14 PM UTC
C old & cool
A iry & abuzz
N atural & noble
A ppetizing & appealing
D angerous & dandy
A muck & AWESOME
Apr 27, 2017
Apr 27, 2017 at 7:46 AM UTC
Ungraded roads have many holes,
Gravel, and running ditches.
Before a rain, they seem more wide than narrow.
Long but terminal.
These roads I'm led to roam,
Not straight, but bending to travel.
Signs warn of deer or bumps,
With a bridge dead ahead.
Chances are, it's a single lane,
And timing dictates crossing.
My spinning wheels clear the ruts,
But soon they fill again,
As if I never passed.
Mar 27, 2017
Mar 27, 2017 at 11:37 AM UTC
this is our shiny bubble.
we float around with no care,
its reflective surface
shielding us from the outside world.
you stare at me with rainbow eyes.
full of possibility, full of hope.
no longer do they run away
at the slightest sign of me.
instead they press on;
recklessly moving forward,
20 kilometers per hour on curves.
i keep the budding fear to myself.
we're working so hard to stay afloat.
oh, how i dread
the day
we
pop
Mar 12, 2017
Mar 12, 2017 at 3:03 AM UTC
She took the stairs
and followed her mind shaped road to nowhere.
Nowhere had novocaine and a whole lot of what should not be shared.
Mind trips,
Dulled her to otherworldly stares,
Bruised lips,
And no one in sight to look for her welfare,
Comatose limbs taking her from nowhere to nowhere.
Fogged brain
taking away every bit of care,
But her dulled heart,
Still dare.
Thump, thump, thump.
Aug 7, 2016
Aug 7, 2016 at 11:46 AM UTC
Hellos, goodbyes,
Tears, smiles, regrets.
Families going together
And some breaking apart.
The planes come
And go
and so do the people
It's a place we all have been to
But only a few of us truly know it
Apr 29, 2016
Apr 29, 2016 at 10:54 AM UTC
She went on a trip.
Away in the state.
She went on a trip.
Away from contact.
I wait til she's online.
Then I message her.
I feel quite annoying.
I just really miss her.
I miss her a lot.
She is one of the only people I talk to.
Now what do I do?
She's not here.
Emily I miss you.
I want to know how it was.
It looks like you had fun.
Whenever you get the time let me know.
I really miss you just letting you know.
Apr 24, 2016
Apr 24, 2016 at 2:17 AM UTC
The mind engaged in logic
I can barely see
My days sudden bursts
I can rarely breath
The flight of the air
Carries me through
The panic and dire
Soothes my blues
It’s the lurch
Of a flip
It’s not lunch
But a trip
Those piano notes
Cascades my blues
A remedy to inspire
I died a thousand times
When I missed him so
The baggage I build
Grazing on those grounds
******* to fly again
It’s the lurch
Of a flip
It’s not lunch
But a trip
Ferry me through
Carry me through
For I need a train
And a carriage
One for me
One for you
One for us
One for all
The lurch
Unlatched
The trip
Unflipped
Lets all have lunch. Huh?
Feb 19, 2016
Feb 19, 2016 at 7:32 AM UTC
We're boating on Brindley's cut
cruising to the cotton city
Manchester where it all goes on
the engine of our empire.
Eight hours of ease from Top Locks,
meals provided, plenty to see
here on the cutting edge
of British engineering.
A night out on the tiles
then back again to dear old Runcorn,
something to tell our kids,
the start of a transport revolution.
Nov 1, 2015
Nov 1, 2015 at 10:50 AM UTC
I woke up bathing in the moon light. It was of warmth and tender touch. Though I know that I have to get through of it. So I did everything I have to as I took it for granted. As I went outside to take on my path, my yesterdays kept huanting and pulling me back. I fought and I fought until I thought it was alright. But I'm not alright. I let myself be taken and be brought to another realm where reality's obscure and so desperate to show there's life when there's none. The sun's about to come and the sky's turning teal. I am again on the same road I walked a thousand times before. And I'd walk a million times more. It's not only becoming a habbit, it's becoming more of regularity in my system. I want my yesterday to capture me this time.
Mar 29, 2015
Mar 29, 2015 at 6:15 AM UTC
I smelt it from afar and thought about the
The imaginations
The cool breeze
The sound sleep
The trips
The laughter
The hot ***
Lovely night it would be.
#Highness #Trips #Love
Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 2:12 AM UTC
Turn the music up
My favorite song
Ethereal
Set in motion
Ice cold window
Coasting at seventy-five
Dropping low
In the right direction
Passing every exit
The murals written
The night time
Jumbled emotions perpetuated
In a handshake
Or a smile
Sigh
Yeah
Now that's the real America
Jan 17, 2015
Jan 17, 2015 at 12:23 AM UTC