Thursday, April 24, 2008
West of the East
Hasn't it been just too long?
Break my back why don't you
Laying on this piece of glass
feeling it scrape my skin but never break the surface
unlike the unlucky mirror that someone got to
to make the glass in the first place
Sometimes we put ourselves in these spaces
These places that kinda hurt
but more than pain they exhilarate
"If you threw it harder you would've done it all the way" he said to the small frame. The pebble was just big enough to be classified a stone but without the proper force behind it, it only made a small lightening streak in the old glass square. Spider-web striations spread out from the site of the intrusion in the following seconds, bringing some greater satisfaction to the boy and restoring a piece of his pride. "You gotta finish it, or else it's no good"...words that pushed him to his feet and stumbled Milio to inch nearer to the site. Close enough, he could see the small delicate works of geometry hanging in their oddly beautiful divination and knew it would take nothing more than a poke with his poll to send them crumbling. What was once a looking glass, a spy-hole into the world inside hidden by clay walls, built by man, was now a calidescope that served to better skew and admire the shapes of the world rather than to be looked through. Beauty as it was, no plush images of daytime poetry could even enter the moment as all the surging desires of manhood pulsed in the boys fingertips. The piece of rusty tailpipe transformed in his hands into a soldiers weapon and he grabbed it tight, feeling the warmth of his own body radiate through the metal and into his thumb. Confidence busseled deep in his brow as he circulated images of honorary pins on an army lapel and war heroes dressed like Kings in their drab. If life was the battle field, than this was his play, and a proud one at that. The clashing of glass broke the shield of Milio's reality as he stood frozen in the moment, waiting to be rescued or shot, either would have been suiting. The warmth of his hand oozed with dull pain while delicate droplets of burgandy fell silently on the dusty earth. His gaze down, he reveled in his moment of exstacy, his claiming of manhood, and a smug grim crossed his face. It was all done now. No more teasing, no more names, no more slurs that burned raw at his squandering sense of selfhood. Just like the men in brown, he had paid the standard fee of earning one's death by playing into the game of politics and lies that kept his community in a cycle of pain. He had made his kill, and could, Milio could die with dignity.
Enough heavy stuff...I graduate in 2 weeks. Off to New Zealand we go and then back to Oregon for a few before moving myself to Seattle. I will post here the travel Blog Ryan and I will use on our journey. Sending out my love and hope! ¶ 11:02 PM
Break my back why don't you
Laying on this piece of glass
feeling it scrape my skin but never break the surface
unlike the unlucky mirror that someone got to
to make the glass in the first place
Sometimes we put ourselves in these spaces
These places that kinda hurt
but more than pain they exhilarate
"If you threw it harder you would've done it all the way" he said to the small frame. The pebble was just big enough to be classified a stone but without the proper force behind it, it only made a small lightening streak in the old glass square. Spider-web striations spread out from the site of the intrusion in the following seconds, bringing some greater satisfaction to the boy and restoring a piece of his pride. "You gotta finish it, or else it's no good"...words that pushed him to his feet and stumbled Milio to inch nearer to the site. Close enough, he could see the small delicate works of geometry hanging in their oddly beautiful divination and knew it would take nothing more than a poke with his poll to send them crumbling. What was once a looking glass, a spy-hole into the world inside hidden by clay walls, built by man, was now a calidescope that served to better skew and admire the shapes of the world rather than to be looked through. Beauty as it was, no plush images of daytime poetry could even enter the moment as all the surging desires of manhood pulsed in the boys fingertips. The piece of rusty tailpipe transformed in his hands into a soldiers weapon and he grabbed it tight, feeling the warmth of his own body radiate through the metal and into his thumb. Confidence busseled deep in his brow as he circulated images of honorary pins on an army lapel and war heroes dressed like Kings in their drab. If life was the battle field, than this was his play, and a proud one at that. The clashing of glass broke the shield of Milio's reality as he stood frozen in the moment, waiting to be rescued or shot, either would have been suiting. The warmth of his hand oozed with dull pain while delicate droplets of burgandy fell silently on the dusty earth. His gaze down, he reveled in his moment of exstacy, his claiming of manhood, and a smug grim crossed his face. It was all done now. No more teasing, no more names, no more slurs that burned raw at his squandering sense of selfhood. Just like the men in brown, he had paid the standard fee of earning one's death by playing into the game of politics and lies that kept his community in a cycle of pain. He had made his kill, and could, Milio could die with dignity.
Enough heavy stuff...I graduate in 2 weeks. Off to New Zealand we go and then back to Oregon for a few before moving myself to Seattle. I will post here the travel Blog Ryan and I will use on our journey. Sending out my love and hope! ¶ 11:02 PM
