January 2012
4 posts
the moments of keeping
i keep eating, even though i am not hungry i keep breathing, even though i am suffocating. i keep moving, even though i am standing still i keep laughing, even though i am crying. i am surviving, i am surviving. i am surviving even though i am dying.
unseen
People who live in cities learn directions from streets and freeway. Buildings are the monuments of survival in these arid landscapes. Trees grow but are planted by people who drive them in cars with their seatbelts on.
I have a birth story. It involves spirits and meant to be’s, and its only shared with those who are very close to me. I remember big mountain which was always to the north...
December 2011
2 posts
This christmas, i am giving you up
like an old man gives up stairs like a pyrotechnic gives up flares like a stoic creatures’ fatal stare. I am giving you up even though you will always be there. I am quitting you, like a smoker quits cigarettes, like a cat laidy gives away her pets like a better gives up on their bets.
Your memories are useless, they’ve grown old and like an...
November 2011
3 posts
not art
I am not an artist. i am a cry let out from the heart, deep and below languages that place me above fingernails and teeth.
I am not an artist. I am a boy who ran away at 12, I joined the circus and wore tights and glitter glue on my cheeks, and the sticky pink cotton got under my skin and i rode the horse while standing on my hands and one day i will become a man.
I am not an artist.I am a rag...
October 2011
3 posts
soon we will not understand each other, just like...
dear you, internet. dear you.
out there you are somewhere true.
dear internet. internet, dear you.
in your thoughts you are off there too.
in my thoughts i am off here, i.
in your fingers you are on [f] [j] [y].
dear you, internet. dear __________.
connect. c0nnec+. (0nn3c+.(0^^3c+.(0^^3(+. to me too.
bauetiful
I just went to bed very softly i just went to bed and said goodnight knowing pretty well gently that i may stay up the night i told you many stories and you listened very tight i just went to bed softly and its okay, things are actually allright.
September 2011
3 posts
war-m
Her hand moved slowly across her forehead, feeling the salty sweat that her body had pushed through her pores. Her fingers moved slower than even the bulging drops of water as they crept off her brow and hit her cheek. It was the type of weather in which you can hear the heat as well as you can see and feel its breath. The beautiful weather that reminds your body where it belongs- to the earth and...
4 tags
August 2011
22 posts
sometimes I cant breath and its not the not breathing that scares me its the breathing that Im afraid what will happen of its the going into the next moment that makes my ears scream that if i let it, that moment can bring back all my bad memories at once death, pain, loneliness, the shriek that each lets out separately combined into one second which is the present once i let it be
sometimes i...
vision speak
Dried shadowed creekbed sit old man you and I off the beaten path sweated brows in palm
long twisty beard curls mold
soft thistle thorn seeds gently hold
into the same old man dreams remembered lost and found subconsciously
I was a child you were already a man different times back then in the same time but at different places in the same place but at different times now together among these...
2 tags
2 tags
2 tags
nobody liked it.
i wrote it, i cut out my heart at the dotted lines with rhythm and candor, I put it on paper with fingers trembling as they shifted, I glued it down with strong phrases fitting to the muscle that it is, requiring straps staples and all kinds of tape to hold it to its words and nothing more and nothing less and nobody liked it.
I painted it, used colours so bright impossible to...
The passionate mundane.
She moved slowly in bed, the kind of move that doesn’t go anywhere. A shift of the skin among sheets. Rolls of curves exposed and twisted, while moving. He sat back and watched, aware that things had moved inside of him as much as they had changed inside her. He felt the disconnection from connection, the collection of apprehension. Why was it so difficult, he wondered, to say things that...
Pricks
a legend my people say as they pause there is a reason the cactus decides to stretch out and grow claws because skin that is smooth and soft underneath handled without permission from the roots or the flower breaks from sadness and drips tears sour its soft sweet paws decide not to wither away and die but instead to stand tall and prick you and I.
July 2011
20 posts
Ha][oween
costume, circus person (cira) 1920*s
