the stars, the sea, and sleep.

Thursday, April 30, 2009

Tumblers

With the gate cracked open,
My thoughts run free in every direction.
But I am still bound to these thoughts
For they remain mine.
And I get tense as these chains
Lose slack
And unwind.

It went taught
When I was caught
On the curb by my car
But I stumbled on
Surroundings gone...
I must know where you are.

I should've known and not have lied
To myself.
More worrisome things beckon
Like keeping my friends alive.
No one dies,
But I still fade
And persuade myself that it's all
Okay.
Okay?

I'm getting defensive.
And getting up fences
That I'll tear down
With a look,
A "sorry!"
And a book that reads:
I once couldn't see,
I once couldn't feel,
But now I can tell
That this has been real
-ly different,
And now I finally understand.

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Sucking Up Sand

Mind against motion,
The body is too stale.
Pores become moldy sores
And neural fibers combed out,
Smooth like the breaths,
In and out of consciousness.
Smooth like the transition of the day
Flawless when I saw it from my window.
Smooth like the sand that spills
From the holes in my pockets.
The plug fell out of the socket,
While I went running on reserves.
My nerves are shot.
My focus, lost.
So now I run through the courtyard
Equipped with broom and pan,
Trying to make sense
Of the ticks and the hands.

Monday, April 27, 2009

The Ghost of Imprints Past

I dipped my hand to test the waters
And I felt the drag
That threatening drag.
There are waves pulsing on the water
There is a light pulse in the water.
An illusion of a warmth
In the womb of the sea?
Aye, but the cold to get through
Would surely be the death of me.
More knowledge, more complexity
An implied parting
With a goodbye under my breath.
So I watch bubbles surface and pop
A mournful sound that beckons to me,
Stop.
I turn my back to the edge
And cast flowers from my post
From staring at these towers,
Over and over,
And sinking with a ghost.

Returning Chester

A weekend gone,
From zero to red.
Threefold at the edges,
Wedging our eyes open
To open and open.
We're dead not yet,
We're holding and hanging
On.

Leaking gray matter from the pressure,
You pursue fresher air
In hopes to get the hell out of there,
To let the wind
Bear the weights in your hair.

Bars hold me back,
As the quarter notes attack.
And you forget,
And I regret,
Formalities and familiarities.

So I gather exclusion
In a red metal case
Without financial intentions
But starving attention.
...So it is given,
And it is gotten.

The stability found
When all else fails.
The perfection embodied,
A storm that I sail.
The dictator laid down,
Halting reign that I hail.
The unseen pleasant things
That forgetfulness entails.

Sunday, April 26, 2009

Silver Rabbit

Are these nerves too rusty to work?
Yet we wore them as they
Tore us apart.
As pleasing as a rock
As silencing as a sock,
We were thrown in the trunk
That jumbled our words
As they were spoken
And our ceramic masks were broken.
With shards so messy.

These are meant to be learned from
And our shame is meant to be burnt
Under the outdoor lights
Laugh after work and start anew
Because we are the lucky
And ever so few.

So are your nerves too flimsy to jerk?
These beasts feast on animals
While others channel their focus
On those of cameras
We've lost all standards!
And laugh at the shocks
That encouragement brings,
And our praise we sing
Until we heard word of the cops.
In a getaway so messy.

We run, but you lead
But then in I'm in
And out
Of cover.
Embarrassment of a lover
That is quickly recovered
I wouldn't ask for another.
I couldn't ask for another.
Something so perfect,
So messy.

Saturday, April 25, 2009

Uncorked

I started with a startling thought:
You have what you don't want
And want what you don't have.

Well, I'm glad to say that isn't
Entirely true.
You can tell by the creak
Of now functionless seats.
They're all on their feet!
They're all on their feet!

Pleasant dams slow down my drift
That compliment our style
Of dramatic shifts...
We are clockwork.
We are god's work.

There's no stopping us now.
No,
Not while we're still alive.
And already it's over,
Our first one down!
But thank god we've still got five.

Friday, April 24, 2009

No Breath

Too much,
Too fast,
My mind
Can't last
The race.
This pace
Disgraced
My pride.
I hide
In sleep,
Forget
These things,
And I
Just feel
much worse.

Thursday, April 23, 2009

The Calling

The sour taste of shadows
Overpowers a raspy voice.
I've been breathing in sponges
And belting a blossom
Of granite,
Of rust.

Places, places,
Call in the replacements.
This is my selfish jealousy,
This is what happens
When you get to be
Me.

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Before and After

The plane landed, but I never stopped.
And when my face hit the tarmac
I only ran faster.
Disoriented form a story that ended
At 7:28 p.m.
I burned the coal
And closed my eyes,
Full speed behind!
I'm hurdling dams
To hurdle more waves
To find a nice desk to resign.
This ship is sick
The crew has turned lime,
The clouds stole our guidance
The sun stole our time.

If I could sit back in the waters
Of the eye of the storm,
I'd let go of the oars
And let freedom be born.

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

From Charlie to Angels

Here's to a day
Lost in changing planes
No time to say good bye!
Just leave a note behind...
And walk back to familiarity
Walking back to family.

Let your recollections
Clang with the affection
In tied cans to your bumper.
Sugar, mint, and grain,
Running for the train,
Knowing the pain of indecision
After walking the streets,
Noting deeds both good and bad
But nonetheless,
An experience to be had.

I followed laughs down the gateway
That told me, "Come home!"
And its signal was tranquility
In a silent, resting monotone.
The States' scale had tipped
From the places I had flown,
And balanced has been restored
Now that I'm finally back home.

Monday, April 20, 2009

Big Bad of Googies

I was drawn in by the colors,
But they were poison,
It was a spoof.
So I'll call these bricks my own,
Metropolitan,
Fire proof.

Saturday, April 18, 2009

Bad Tapes and Balanced Stereo

Every day is a page I rip into two.
A series of sacrifices,
Making me
A slave to own devices:
The power of thought.

I bought into it all
and now,
I'm facing that squad
With my hands on the wall,
Assembled on the quad.
Defining my god.

They're lighting their city
They're licking their grins
And I'm guessing in tunnels...
To find where I went in.
And where I'll get out.
And I quiet the echoes
with even more shouts.
The is sampling nectar
With the venom of snakes,
To make the hardest decision
That I'll ever make.

T

Adding ah's to the er's
And oh's to the um's,
Here I imagine old men
When they were young.
You can never erase that dead  stare.
In your red wagon dreams
Those eyes are still there...
And youth is dead.

I almost feel guilty
Laughing young bubbles from my seat,
Filled with nothing but trivial troubles
That float away,
And away,
And away.

But I refuse to say a word on that matter.
The chatter of the train
Inclines us to do the same,
And so we laugh.
And so we think.
With our new friends.
And our mixed drinks. 

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Brownstones

So put it on the cart
Or put it on the cot?
It seems that I've forgotten
That I've been flying all day
Listening to what people had to say
About the crying baby not too far away.
Stretching maps long,
Plus three hours
Gone.

Tired from the heat
Of a long, sleepless night
I felt as if I was ready to die,
Until I took a breath of the air
Outside.
Sunshine.
And brisk Boston air.
I was constantly wishing
You could've been there.
The city was waiting,
The river was waving,
So I buttoned the coat
I had always been saving
For a day like this.

Reverse Thrust Boosters

Airplanes and birds
Spread their wings through the sky,
But this airport is far from a bird's nest.
Its best twigs have thorns
And its fledglings have horns
That will poke a hole in any self-control
You thought you ever had.

They're filled with so much water,
They might as well explode,
So the young alarm makes sure
That everyone knows.
I regret to inform you
That this is my home.
The nest has a stench
That has me grabbing at walls,
Trying to create a distance
With the least amount of resistance.

But we all know
That the innocent are bombed
So I run down this terminal
As missiles whistle me on.
So now I sit on the floor
Holding to my chest
Everything that I hate,
And I yell at the wall
For an echo... delayed.
Delayed.
Delayed.
Delayed.
Delayed.
Delayed.
Delayed.
You feel that?
Your anger?
Your sadness?
Your hate?
Yeah, sulk all you want.
Delayed.
Delayed.

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

When Cars Look Like Stars Under Streetlights from a Plane

We had our last supper
On a cardboard box
Then we watched as the evening
Made all sorts of locks.
All non-confining,
But rather defining
What we really want:
To go the distance
Without the separation
To speak what we mean
And not need conversation.

It was the look in your eyes
And the salt in your tears
That made everything real
And made hold you nearer.
This fear is not estrangement,
A hot phone held against my chest,
So in defense my heart flexed
To preempt what happened next.
And your tears, I kissed,
As they fell to your lips
So you'd never forget
That you will be missed.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Muchness

Attention to detail
Disregard for retail
Yes, I have found,
Great deals without the bin,
Great pleasure without the sin.

I adjust my shower head
While washing in the harbor
And as the thunder claps louder
The rain falls down harder...
Hot,
Cold,
Hot,
Cold,
Emotions are emphasized,
Underlined and bold.
None of this was foretold
Like when I sold my hopes
To the government of reason.
But call me a traitor,
This is the kind of treason you can trust.
Hitting twenty, but never bust.
Grinning heavy, lost in so much.

So I sit in this salt bucket
Filled with cold drips
Licking my lips as I finish this quilt
Of euphoria and resentment,
But mostly of guilt.

I pulled the trigger that let my soul fly
That went through the walls between
Your body and mine,
And with smiling and crying
I set you alarmed,
Touch by the fact
That I've been disarmed.

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Mental Leap

I apologize for my sleepy eyes
Filled with sand and other heavy things:
The blue with black shadows,
The bland default screen,
All of which are irrelevant
To the truly important things.

I hope this is not
A degradation in quality
Due to happiness embodied
Months before the fall.
With a mind rearranged
To serve an alternate current,
The circuits are bent
And I'm just trying to make sense.

May this not be a procession
For the recession of sorrowed seas
As slowly,
One by one,
Fall the leaves off of trees
Until they are naked like the page
Made of them, once good age.
May this not be the next step
When paper turns to mulch,
And ink becomes unsafe
And a hazard to be kept.

Here comes the chorus
And the orchestra in bloom,
With the boom of tympani drums
And my thumb in my mouth
And my feelings going south
To make room for more...

And the reprise swept the sea far onto the shore.

Something Clever For Something Short

Confusion and sleep,
I'm living (in) a dream,
And we're questioning the volume on the television screen.

Friday, April 10, 2009

Relief

I let out a breath
With blood in my lungs,
Sugary and metallic,
But this dream was not one
Any close to being done.

I opened my eyes to even more dark
As stark asphyxiation
Became an indication of impending doom,
Making an animal from a deflating balloon.

So there I was,
As sad clown with smeared make-up
Trying to find what I was made of,
Shoving my tricks too far up his sleeve,
So far until I could no longer breathe.
And I lied on his back.
As a panic attack ensued.
But then,
The stage glow lit up the entire room
And never too soon... on with the show!

And what came out from the sack,
You would never have guessed,
When I unraveled the deadweight
That lay on my chest...

Who would ever keep cats in a bag in the first place?

Thursday, April 9, 2009

Voices in the door...

There are things unexplained
That lie beneath the wood grain.
Thunder echoes from every knock
Turning my stomach into knots.
Childhood fears and childhood dreams,
Childhood brain conjures childhood things:
Well maybe there are people,
Between the plywood they hide!
...Or maybe it's their yelling
Just on the other side.

Thank God we have one more who follows after me
To cushion the joints of this dysfunctional family.
And if his adhesive won't stick,
Well then I'm afraid this is it.

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

322,406

After two weeks,
I'm too weak to do this alone,
But I am nowhere near shame.
Things will never be the same
Since this wound above my heart is big
From putting something in
So hearty,
So heavy
That I cannot fathom carrying on my own.

But whether I like it or not,
It will soon be my time
To finally grow...
And finally go.

Try losing your keys
In the city of Boston,
Or losing your mind
Right here in L.A.
And all the while, this collaboration
Seems to go against an entire nation,
While the Rockies try to keep you in
And you're stood up by the Appalachians.

We close our eyes
In hopes to close our minds
To a decision we know is tough.
Hell, it's not even here
And it would not be forever...
But it sure will be close enough.

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Buffer

Here are the words
That are placed between spaces,
Here are the shoes
Sporting two untied laces,
Here are the heads,
Erased canvas,
No faces,
Here are the lines
Slowly
Sweeping
My traces.

Is this truly abstract?
Did this really just happen?
This is meaningful action,
For the sake of distraction.

Heat Panned Left

This time I'll try
To be a little more sly
In my approach,
Like the fairways of filters
In our throats for when we spoke.
All in hope that we didn't choke
On our intricate alibis,
Explaining in detail
The events of two nights ago,
The strong controlled flow
Of every element we know:
No earth,
Nor wind,
Nor fire,
But touch,
And breath,
And desire.

But this dam is not made of hardened sand,
A lustful man's work
With the appearance of the quirks
Of a three-year-old hand.
No, this dam reaches
And this dam feels
With steel
Backed with steel,
Backed with steel,
Backed with steel,
Protecting a core of perpetual heart
With blood vessels spanning the distance
Apart.
Churning and churning,
Turning the knot in your gut
(Like that time you thought
That there wasn't enough)
Into a bow on the pillow
That sat on the bed
That I never warmed with
The heat of my head.

And the next morning
We smirked at our screens
As we recalled the things that now recline
In the back of our minds
After running three and forgetting the rest,
A mental test
That proved to be the best in the stretch
As we had stretched our arms
At five in the morning...
So I laugh at the thought
Of you telling her this story.

I tell you mine and I tell you my past's
So you can really get to know
How long this has lasted.
Longer than the L.A. snow,
The lights that hung low
From my roof in December...
Longer than you ever thought you'd remember.

I sit at this shady table,
Anti-social and gaining all sorts of labels,
To tell you I'm going to do
Whatever I'm able to do
To not make the same mistake of our elders,
And instead of an end,
This will get even better.

Sunday, April 5, 2009

Catfish Pie

So here I show you
My utmost appreciation,
Not only through movement
But in abstract recitation
That will never do you
Any justice
For when I fell asleep
And awoke in a dream:
Morning sun,
Breathing you into my lungs.

So here's a lengthy one
For the one I love so much
Because if I am the stagger
Then you are always the crutch,
And if every word brings you further
Into a state of disbelief,
The you'll soon be raving mad,
Made with love
Addressed from me.

Kakaw! I never saw this coming,
Roles reversed, but nonetheless
In the dark, we start humming
To the strumming of familiar tunes
And reenact the dreams I had
In the scorching nights of June...
But the cast is new
And it's just me and you.

So here we lied
Looking at each other
Through blurry eyes,
And we held each other like a moment,
Holding tight,
Hoping it would never,
Ever,
Die.
And we made memories to dance
In a waltz, three-four time
With the songs that were baked
Into this fresh catfish pie.

Three

On the stage
In the sky
By my side,
My lucky stars
Have no intent to die.
Oh no, no, no...

This is my anthem
This is my best of.
Extract from my past
Emotional moments
The motion of romance,
Under second hand light,
Felt by notes hit just right...
And my god, does this glove fit!
But you'd be crazy to think
I'd ever quit.

We're alive in the night
No lights under the door,
This is so real
And everything
I could ever
Ask for,
Without even saying a word...

Saturday, April 4, 2009

Natural Light

Suddenly,
God's dry erase crumbles off our skin
Exposing identity and original sin,
But for what?
The hours overwritten
To write another new,
That will become another overwritten
To be once again renewed.

My love is a clean slate,
And we paint the canvas with our skin.
Our heart is our palette
Our tongue is our brush,
Our eyes of no use
Our lips better hushed.

So we found our gold
In a patch of green
With red in our cheeks
And blue in the sky.

A sole white balloon
Wanders and drifts
Flowing with the current
Of those misty ships,
But that sea is of nothing
Only mirrored glass.
These kisses are locked
With the strands of your hair
And your licking your lips
Because we're truly on air.

Thursday, April 2, 2009

Matters of Worth

Some days I hope that
The tint, the sweaters, and the jackets
Would sometimes stop the racket
That is defined
By true lies.

This house is of concrete,
Its windows abstract...
How ugly.

Even this heard, by resolving words,
Just builds a foundation
Deeper into sand.
I'd write a message on this tablet
That would be forgotten in an instant,
The tongue has been disarmed
And I'm as helpless as an infant.

I can sulk because I can
And you can wander in the woods,
But this shepherd is no man
And he does nothing that he could
To save himself. 

Matters of Wanting

Disregard for the bars
Set when this all began,
I push them away
With a reckless hand.

Idle and wild...
My chosen lifestyle,
Growing without restraint,
Tainting the roots that hold
This towering tree.
I'm a hollowed out oak
Soaked in sour milk.

My legs wobble on this mud pie hill
And this angered god has his hand
On his hilt.
His merciless justice
Will slaughter earth's sow
And this abor will serve in the wind
As my plow.

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Clouds

I've found the beauty
In the moment's breath,
My life carefully drawn
From violets to reds.
I'm enjoying the secrets
That discrete details hide
And seeing the world
Through glittery eyes.
I'm dancing with the sun,
Golden and round...
I guess I had a turn around.
And I'm proud to say that ever since,
I've been drinking my tea
With airplanes and blimps.