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ambitionmy ambitions are alien children
with horrible gravity
they pull me down
until even my steps forward
seem like falling
entry 7/6/13I am happiest when I meet strangers
when you are not disappointed in me
and I still have interesting things to say
excusesI tell myself it doesn’t matter
it doesn’t matter
until apathy becomes a mantra
and depression a bulwark against
the normalcy of other people
going home feels like retreating
when socializing is a battle
and eye contact is horror
when you don’t know what they see
attractionattraction seeps through pores and
walks in dreams
souls separated by mass humanity
nature and coincidence conspiring to keep love apart
the currents wash away evidence, footprints
the winds halt all progress
virginity traded for bragging rights
living in wanderlust
hoping to meet
dislikeit’s too obvious when dislike appears
I’m not an arsonist but bridges
burn down around me
my heart is growing tired of
this social competition
I miss home, sometimes
I want to go back and
drink hot sake on the beach
watch the fog roll in and hide me from
all these people
wrap my arms in the mist and
keep my own company
restraintrestraint is another excuse for
your spotlight eyes search me out
and I can’t bring up the air
I can’t open my throat
a voice in a straitjacket
my personality closed
currentlyeverything seems so inadequate
compared to things imagined
the future came and went
orgasm passed without shiver
kisses lacked fire
the world became once-removed
a dim, hazy place
I want to wake up
2/20it seems too often that opportunity passes by
with a wave I acknowledge it
what am I supposed to do?
I desire to be new everyday, go back to birth but
inner peace is boring, most of my life is maintenance
how many years of turbulence did it take before
the Earth settled in its orbit?
the truth about growing up
1. It's easier when you don't think.
1. It starts early,
on a cloudy day when you recall
the 'childhood memories' of
two summers ago,
that's when you start your backslide into
2. On the bright side
you won't notice this until you're
good and ripe in age,
so maybe it doesn't matter
3. That tightness in your chest?
The feeling that you're not ready
to take on the rest of your life; it
4. It stews in the pit of your stomach
makes you doubt,
but there will be days when you look back
on the mountains you climbed -
the raging rivers you crossed -
and you'll have a sneaking suspicion you were
more prepared than you thought.
5. There's nothing like your own bed.
6. Laundry will never smell right
without mom's sweat and tears.
But you still have to separate lights from darks,
keep the zippers pulled tight
and the buttons unhooked.
7. There is comfort in your parents' presence.
8. Things change
the future gnaws and rips
Stranger's funeralUnder the clouds
Under the rain
Staring at the coffin
At a stranger's funeral
We're all alone
Feeling the storm
But not the pain
For he's but a stranger
And the graves around us
Are just there
Keeping us company
During this empty moment
LullabyHush, my baby,
Be still, don't cry.
Lay with me
A little while.
Close your eyes,
Slow your breath.
Hear your heart
Inside your chest?
Your heart is strong,
It guides you well.
Be sure to listen
To what it tells.
I hear him now,
Outside the room.
It won't be long,
He'll find us soon.
Now close your eyes,
Slow your breath,
And rest your head
Upon my chest.
Southern modernizationBlack comedy market economy, banana peel political humour, cards with the cartels, the solution free room service and credit the union. Bolivar twist, ding dong dollar under control, valley of the coin desert with no value. Gangsta paradise, the victims are the people. Big mac and cold conflict interference a part of it all. In little Mexico you’d need a high horse to jump the great border wall that boasts its peak.
Viracocha melts waters unlike those it rose from, making waves of out of metal oceans to overtake the current south, re-steel, re-take, tech-mechs the entire south into neo-Machu Picchu, cyberpunk music moulding, reshaping old society into an new age, iron dynasty, fresh coat for an old, ancient look. The coattails of Quetzalcoatl if he were a modern man pull together the merge of future and long passed past..techno temples and the like.
CarolineYou loved the fire
of rogues -
imperfect men who shot up
the endings of the day
and drank down
too much beauty.
And like one of them,
you bellied with rebellion,
felt his tense seed
toil where women
and craved his notoriety.
Poor girl -
his verses won the day
and the call of words
was too fickle a lover
for any constant star.
Don't blame yourself -
are more attractive
and all poets are
Darkest MoonI celebrate my right to live;
To the dismay of some, perhaps
It should be noted
These words I write, however true
Are only portions of the moon
I’ve decide to shine light upon.
But who am I to preach respect?
Who Am I to preach equality?
An advocate for re-personification
Of the female gender
But exhibits cannibalistic characteristics
Within dark spaces.
I am a shadow
Hidden within an Eggshell, painted pink,
Waiting to hatch.
Is the darkness
The night brought upon us.
things to tell you before i leave for collegeto mrs hatcher:
i promise that one day i will write that poem you asked me for
(the only thing you ever asked me for)
and i will finally tell you that you deserve
so much more.
to mr. walker:
i promise that i will not pity you.
i promise that i will not envy you.
i promise that you will always be part of my forget-me-nots and marigolds.
i promise to always be grateful.
i promise to be careful.
i promise to be crazy.
i promise that i will remember what it feels like to be needed
and what it feels like to let someone who needs you down.
i promise that i will never resent you for asking for help
and that i will always be there when you do.
i promise that even sixty years from now,
i will not be surprised to find a letter from you in my mailbox.
i promise to always remember what it felt like to be young and crazy with you,
how scared and lonely we were.
i will remember that we both survived it,
and that we'll survive this, too.
You Were Born Missing SomethingYour skin is glazed with crystals of frost
and your heart's valves are close to
freezing shut tight
from being devoid of something
Though I am torrents of hail, whirling storms,
warm tears streaking,and tornadoes of rage
that flow uncontrollably through my veins
and out of my mouth,
every breath near you is warm
because your words are so cold
I am a natural disaster at its finest
with bones twisted in painful angles
and a crooked spine
you were born spineless
telepathyI think if we could read minds
the world wouldn't be different
we would just find different ways of shutting
evolve walls inside our skulls that would
come crashing down like blast doors and
the forests wouldn't uproot themselves
the landscape wouldn't change
the ocean would continue to eat at the shore
it would all be very boring
or maybe it wouldn't
perhaps the people would become the
hills and valleys and places would
have their own memories
the maps would read
"here is where John got drunk last night"
"here is where Sasha had her first thought"
"here there be dragons"
art wouldn't be interpreted
it would be shared
and when two lovers felt each other for the
it would be like
a volcano erupting
an extinction-level event
the first shot in a war
the discovery of electricity
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