Currently Listening The Eraser By Thom Yorke Harrowdown hill see related

the sky is blue

the beautiful sky disproves my entire mentality.
and I walk bitterly below, 
                as pale as oceans.
High low High low High low
galleries are waiting for my trip to the madhouse,
and so am I.
God speed the ravens, that I may have presence.
I ask only for one song, one infallible truth,

a stone, not wings.

Once you laughed as your body refused you
the sunlight left your eyes and there was blood in your words
I was afraid you'd solve me.
you laughed, a man with solutions.

You left for cures,

and I walked for hours,

an animal raging, righteous with grief,
and finally I collapsed above the dying grass
stroking its coarse blonde,
till you kissed me with a mouth full of acid.

when the earth was bald

I lay, laughing till the oceans burst from their cusps
and the light of your eyes illuminated a silvery reflection
and the proud sky pushed my hand back and forth
my song was thick and stung the wind.

The sky split itself along its vital parts
whispering visions of indigo truth

till the clarity of night fell in shards

and I was a shaman
all the while balancing evil
my blood for yours





myspace keeps fucking up an making me lose my lines so im posting this here on this decrepid xanga. because if my computer fries, this will be floating in the space less than space in the air. this is a stupid worthless poem, it only has significance to me, like trying to tell someone your dreams. im in a shitty mood because i feel like less than the person i want and could be. no one reads this anyways, or if they do, they wont mention it, and that is best, isnt it? america is lacking in conflict resolution. Bukowski, lived to be an old old man, despite everything, because he wanted his poems to be great, and he knew they were. beautiful people know they are beautiful. id know, so everyone should stop lying to me. paranoia. are you a late bloomer, if you never bloom at all? i kept your flowers for a very long time, till they were paper, i could have written on them, someone threw them away. tabula rosa, clean clean clean, OCD. i miss the moon. i remember it turned red once, but all i saw was you and in fifty years i hope i see the same sight. sometimes tomorrow seems very far away.

Currently Listening Girl, You'll Be A Woman Soon see related

Rare Sentiments

Currently Listening Saturday Night Wrist By Deftones Hole in the Earth see related

i want these armwarmer/sleeve thingies... i think this is residual brain damage from being forced to watch the xenon movie. but seriously, I LIKE IT. its 45 dollars. ridiculous.

if i had these, i would be taken seriously. as an artist.

ive been up all day. thinkin. my angel is so far away, but his voice carries over the miles. i did that thing, i practiced, i felt my emotions, as they came. and its worked out quite well.

today i decided to start a collage. i have only made one collage in my whole life. one and a half maybe. the first one is really really crappy. i started it during my freshman year of highschool or middle school year. oh it is overly feminine. i was gunna put it in the front of my notebook behind the plastic thingie. but i never finished it until a while back when i had nothing whatsoever to do. i didnt finish it because i liked it. i really hated the theme, i believe it was flowers diamonds and butterfly deals. i finished it cause i never finish any art things that i start. except photos because those are easy. anyways, collages are really difficult. i hope i finish. ill probably post it on my deviant art account if i ever do.

on thanksgiving my mom said i weighed 19 pounds when i was born. i wanted to take a picture of my sister, so people would understand when i tell them how beautiful she is, but i didnt. everything turned sour, i had a terrible headache and they expected me to sit next to him. I was too proud to. and now im glad of it.

feel the weight of my absense
lead locks of hair bludgeoning your conscience.
who will sit to the left of your cruelty
swallowing your judgements
with all of the salty sea?
who will love the skin around your thorns
with a mixture of scented oil
and droplets of dutiful blood?
who will read you poetry when your sugars
leak from every pore and cloud into
the twilight of your eyes?

i just scribbled that. unrefined whatsoever. maybe ill make something of itlater. collage now.

Devin is sleeping

dear online diary.
dear public notice.
dear hermit who needs to identify.

devin is sleeping. devin is sleeping. devin is sleeping. we kept waking up. he thinks its cause i wore my jeans to bed. i don't know, i think my spirit is feeling antsy. the sunset was disappointing. not worth burning your retinas for. i was playing with him, but he alas is still sleepy. so im waxing here. wax wax wax. there is something different about my mental narrations. for a long long long time now, most of my thoughts are just those, not possibilities, just thoughts (i mean the negative thoughts). i can walk on water now.

"he was annoyed that i wouldn't let him sleep."
"no, no he wasn't, he was laughing."

this means i am mentally healthy. this means that i accept happiness. i want to watch devin dress in the morning.

i read at javamonkey last night. a poem called "odyssey". part of the poem is suicide themed. it was a bit of a change in the line-up from the previous reading, most of the other poets read with a rhythm. id hate to use a word like 'closure', but there is something about writing poetry. id hate to use a word like 'therapy'. but its the difference between feeling and felt. truly, even if that sounds trite, which of course it does.

i am going to be nineteen. how many friends can a person have? who will venture to me on some short notice? i am coming into some birthday money, and i want.... maybe a haky sac, a henna kit, a $10 box of black uniball pens, an assortment of sharpies, chocolate covered macadamia nuts, a ticket to the DR. Ocatagon/ sneaker pimps concert, a gift certificate to rag-o-rama, some weird jewelery, odd color nailpolish (i need black and chrome). this list is getting quite greedy. i don't think i've sat down to think what i wanted till just now. but needless to say anything childish, weird, kitch, completely useless yet beautiful.

i left my sketchbook at home. but i'm going to draw now. probably unless sesame street is on.