Life is a Fabulous Blend...
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Opal Jade and fading
I am sick of rice ¶ 5:57 PM 3 Comments
Radio head recorder
Swinging words round
in order, nothing short
of nic-nack-like poetry
Hit hard like dimes
thrown against my
cerebral lines that squish
in contraction
no diction can stop this
addiction, affliction
nope
syllables hum
as the waves come
and seep into the holes
that were made for these days
holes that I fill to the brim
like a cup of gin
waiting for it's tonic
so I let myself respond
to the sonic
and i hear...
Swinging words round
in order, nothing short
of nic-nack-like poetry
Hit hard like dimes
thrown against my
cerebral lines that squish
in contraction
no diction can stop this
addiction, affliction
nope
syllables hum
as the waves come
and seep into the holes
that were made for these days
holes that I fill to the brim
like a cup of gin
waiting for it's tonic
so I let myself respond
to the sonic
and i hear...
"incurable humannessIt's not my time to move on Shift, ready, nowKissologyLet's speak this nonsenseYou need to eat moreDon't be grumpyI'm still your fagThank God it's fatalI'm thinking it's a signAren't you excited?It must hurt, no?Come down hereIt'll be alright, it willKick it like any addictionSo unbalancedHow real. Really human that is"
I am sick of rice ¶ 5:57 PM 3 Comments
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
resumen
Hand firmly grasped inside the wet palm, I begin to feel that familiar ache deep in my belly. This is no longer some idea or some orb floating in the air identified only by my thoughts of ambition; this is real and its here. Less of a plan and more of an action, the future is now and it frightens me.
What a perfect life though right? Everything is so managable until it's really far away or really in your face. A nice, arms length away would be very nice thank you.
Not much to say...only a mind full of pictures and questions and bad white wine. Mom is singing on the phone and I wonder how much I will turn out to be like her. When I say turn out, how old am I thinking in my mind? When am I done maturing like a ripening fruit where I will look at my self and say "I have arrived"? I don't even believe my grandparents are there yet. I hope it never comes. ¶ 9:28 PM 0 Comments
What a perfect life though right? Everything is so managable until it's really far away or really in your face. A nice, arms length away would be very nice thank you.
Not much to say...only a mind full of pictures and questions and bad white wine. Mom is singing on the phone and I wonder how much I will turn out to be like her. When I say turn out, how old am I thinking in my mind? When am I done maturing like a ripening fruit where I will look at my self and say "I have arrived"? I don't even believe my grandparents are there yet. I hope it never comes. ¶ 9:28 PM 0 Comments
