Stream

i am traveling out
of the stream
walking on small branches
water trickling past
my toes as they make gentle steps
upon the forest ground

Untitled

If you would just look into me,
you would understand.
you would never leave.

(Edit 5/11/10)- haiku form):

If you would just look
into me, you'd understand.
you would never leave.

Sleep

I have heard that sleep
is the cousin of death.
But what if they are brothers?
If when you died,
there was no judgment, no gates
just a deathtime of dreams
flowing endlessly into the next.

Astrology

On the night we met,
he told me himself how it would end.

I had heard whispers of his true nature-
a jerk, two-faced.
When I looked into his eyes
and tried to find the wolf inside
obscured by his smile, his bright teeth.

His kiss was forceful,
but I ignored it
because my teeth in his neck
needed his goodness.
I tried to bite clean through
to the marrow
and discover him to be
genuine and true.

With one arm around my waist
as we drove back
he told me.

"I'm a Gemini. That means I have two sides."

I couldn't bite through.
I should have listened.

Electricity

Time is a construct of man
and beauty is the construction of your features
by God or the genetic lottery
my words are a construction of my thoughts
and my actions mirror
strange misfires
in the miswires of my brain

Electricity needs a conductor to flow throw
so I'm not sure how you shocked me
when you merely looked me in the eyes,
so large and green.
We weren't touching,
but my blood boiled,
close to the skin.

When you slapped my hand goodbye,
and held on just that second longer,
you must have known how badly I wanted
to memorize the feeling of
my fingers on your lifeline
until I could draw it in the sand,
until I could trace it over my own.

Stairs

When it's dark
I run up the stairs
faster than the monsters
can follow.

Compass

I see your face,
there is an arrow in my mind
a compass pointing me towards you
when I walk down the street
there is a road map
leading me to you
when I'm in bed
I don't sleep
I crawl to you
I'm in bed,
I dream,
you walk to me.

Untitled

She’s eighteen
With no clue.
Never touched a hammer in her life,
No screws.
Never held a baby in her fingertips,
Never got a hammer.
Never got nailed in.
No screws.

Weight

Sometimes the weight of me threatens to pull me under
My desires are too heavy
For this body and this bedroom
With postcards on the wall

Sometimes I am loved,
But not always
In some places there is dust,
There are places in me that I
Am too afraid to find.

There is a beehive in my head,
There is honey in my capillaries.

There are memories
In the muscles of my body-
Deep.
When I run I am out of breath
Because I am hiding
And my exhalations are secret discoveries.

My veins are dissolving
My secrets will not be refused
My muscles will not cooperate any longer.
I am out of breath.

Spill

I dreamt I was in a field
Lying under lilting tall grasses
And a god came down,
Came down to wink at me.
In a hushed voice
He showed my bruises how to heal
He put my broken hands on his cheek
I cracked under his light.
Fell beneath his body.
I cracked open in his heat,
Spilled out.

He left.
He winked at me.
I watched him go.

Doubt

I seriously doubt the repercussions of pretending all your friends are marionettes. All puppets can hear are lies, and be sure to give them flowers when you go.

Killing is a sin, buying flowers. Digging up orange cores will get me nowhere but in the ground where I have moved earth around.

Unintentionally I have ruined my feet, destroyed my ankles, and broken the arch. She tried to move the bones until they were not so far apart, a ghostly touch.

I threw it in the ocean. I wasn’t supposed to. I was not allowed to let him- swiftly, so quickly. So quickly gone. I should not have.

His heart is on mine, his blood is too slow. It trickles in his veins, but gravity does not force it. Slowly it swims, moving under his skin. Slowly it splashes a little. Slowly his ribs expand and show me his blood. I can see the red, the intestines, his lungs he breathes into me. His toes he pushes against mine.

More and more she is scared- how do you know? The difference between love and a body you’ve come to rely on.

The Ocean

The ocean can knock you down
Like a young bully
And you may be tempted to fight back
To kick, slam, and punch-
But then the ocean caresses you
Like a sweet lover
Or kisses your cheek
As only your mother could,
Rocking you gently
Like you’re its little baby,
And that will tempt you
To pull your arms
Around her aged face,
But it’s only the ocean.
Only water,
and it is indifferent
to everything you are.

Need

I want you
To push me
Into a brick wall
Crush me
Until I need your mouth
To breathe.

Want

I want to be a poet.

I want to write long, languid sentences

About resting in the shade of an elm,

Or the sound a fresh newspaper

Makes when you snap it open,

Or the way it’s impossible

Not to sip your hot chocolate

Even though you know it will burn

Your tongue again.

I want to be an actor.

I want to make people laugh

Until tears roll down their cheeks.

I want to make them lean forward

In their seat.

I want them to get to their feet,

Forget where they are,

Forget that they’re staring at a stage

And not their own thoughts.

there's no time like the present. these are my poems, or poems I like, or songs I like, and things of that nature.