Total Pageviews

Wednesday, June 15, 2016

Maze

It was raining all the way on my way to the piano bar
I was clumsily trying to balance a broken umbrella over my head and keeping my chest covered with my open collard slippery top
when
through the interstices, the warps and wefts of that struggle two sizeable raindrops fell through my collar and landed between my breasts
right where everyone fictionally points to as their heart
The fresh wetness of the droplets made me very aware of that part of my body as if waking it up
like splashing a few hundred cell-faces with water and I trembled
 “The way her body existed only where he touched her." Thought of all those times of caressing you or twirling my fingers around your hair, waking your skin up in places you wouldn't normally wake, like reassessing ignored parts of you as extra precious, like finding my way through you by drawing an invisible maze that i'd get lost in. that i'm continually losing myself in if not for the landmarks of a freckle here and a scratch there 
inside the piano man tickled the ivories and it sounded like warm icicles and I read nature philosophy
I thought of how vast we are and how small we exist 

Monday, May 30, 2016

watch

galaxies apart as if the earth was no more round than it was cracked and multicoloured and nothing mattered  As if we started stepping back...walking backwards facing each other instead of properly walking away from one another What is properly walking away from someone it is to turn away from them and walk  but this, this is making me watch making me watch like watching a train that doesn't speed up past you but pulls away as if gravity was the force sucking it back into the mouth of the tunnel the tunnel lying ahead and gulping you up and mocking me while making me watch making me watch is the cruelest thing I have never been more alone I have never seen more tracks

Sunday, April 17, 2016

to be continued

There is a scene in Bitter Moon where Oscar comes home after a wild night out on the town to find Mimi curled up at his doorstep. She looks like a domesticated cat who's found her way back home somehow, after being thrown in a burlap and released miles and miles away into the wilderness. Then there are her pleads, promising she won't cause any trouble, that she will stay in the background long as she gets to be with him in some shape or form and Oscar's desperate attempts to rid himself of this situation and resume the glories of his bachelor lifestyle.
Then somewhere between Mimi of Bitter Moon and Lux Lisbon of Virgin Suicides reality forms into a woman who swings between promiscuous curiosities, romantic ideals, deep insecurities and fear of abandonment. Somewhere in all the fiction and reality of novels and cinematic features and epics of love and romance, between fathers, brothers and past boyfriends, gender becomes an issue and draws thick thorny lines between the man and the woman of the story and blurs the lines that separate neurosis from reason. Somewhere between Oscar's fascination wearing off as Mimi's infatuation only grows real-life girls watch and tremble while virgins in harboured households end their own lives and the boys next door watch them with fascination...


Friday, April 15, 2016

Tunnels

On the way home carrying a swimming pool of pain (in the soft shell of my brains)
I kept touching my face.
the skin was ice cold and so soft (the glow of having lost some blood)
I guessed
as I eventually made it to the park,
there was someone on the swing with their backpack thrown on the ground. So I got on the one a little ways down and remembered how I had to thrust my legs forward to swing forth and dig backwards into the air as I swung back, because the momentum doesn't maintain itself. I closed my eyes while I swung like a pendulum in mid air and remembered how these things make me sick and remembered the man with the tattoos and the guitar and the golden voice that melted my heart and remembered his friend who disappeared for a while and when he finally wrote back he'd said "my tunnels are dark and long these days" and remembered how he didn't even reply because he just GOT it.




Thursday, March 31, 2016

De

Dissonance, Distress, Despair, Depression...
words that start with the letter D...
words that start with a dee sound
words that weigh down like a piano on one's chest
words that carry their weight in meaning
words that weave a web 'round a heart
No
No
words that come down like piles of rubble
and burry me underneath
No
DI vorce, Di vision, Di smantle, Di ssociate
words that break apart
brittle words like calcium-deficient bones
like damaged hair ends
Sore words, like cried out eyes
No

If I build a skin out of cement
I must remain soft inside
so that I don't crack
only pour
               only spill
                             only spread
                                             

Like ink advancing on wet paper
growing in the limits my tears have set