Histories

He's somewhere,

The old hermit,

And he's writing books,

You and me,

We're in them,

'Cus he sees all of us,

All as we cannot help,

And the furious pen,

Falling, gliding, marking,

To a furious smile that he turns,

And the one fire that burns,

To keep his paper hands awake,

One dedication,

To line the halls of eternity,

With all the volumes of mankind,

And your heroics will go second,

And your beauty will go first.

The Ending of Cold for Now

Kissing your eyelids, 

As you sleep in today,

Staring from inside,

At the diminishing white,

At the fading smoke,

On my hot breath,

The car doesn't need warming up,

Your joints no longer hurt,

The birds are making that annoying sound again,

And I'm remembering,

How it's all a cycle,

So big and so fantastic,

It's almost a heartbreaker,

Out on the coast here in Norway,

To think it was all,

All for us, 

You in majestic blue,

And me in a worn,

Frayed sweater from my past.

Little Puddles on Smooth Streets

"...Orion, the devil...."

Feeling like a child, Jerome stared at the black streaks across his vision, and the pale background that was his ceiling. He didn't move, but replied, "It's only a group of stars. I doubt they care at all about snatching up human souls."

"No, Orion, your dog. He just pissed all over the kitchen floor."

"Did he get the plant in the corner?"

Silence. Jerome didn't move, imagined he was invisible as long as he stayed frozen in bed, not even moving his eyes. Then the quick patter of delicate feet, the quick run that only a young woman can manage.

The bed sunk deep as Camille came down upon him, so much so he almost lost sight of the outside, after which he was sure he would sink all the way to China. Then his newly awakened body communicated the feeling of her on him, of her soft cheek against his stubble. Using the small push up that the springs tried to manage, Jerome twisted them both to the right, catching hold of both her wrists and raising himself up.

"A complete reversal of fortune, it seems, for now you are the one in the comfy bed, and I have to get ready for work!"

She notched her head to the side, watching him with smirking eyes. He went slack and lay back on his knees. "Shit."

Bursting into laughter, she tried to fight his grip as he bent back down to kiss her and then dismissed the scene in favor of the bathroom. He showered, shaved, brushed, deodorized, sanitized, and emerged with all sorts of clean flavors wafting off his shoulders. Camille was still in the kitchen, and he almost ran into her as he turned the corner, stopping right where carpet meets tile. 

"May I enter?" She said nothing and inserted a dry piece of toast into him mouth. He stood mock-puzzled, shrugged his shoulders, and went for his black peacoat, putting it on in one quick swoop around his shoulders. He opened the door, and looked back to see Camille expecting some sort of goodbye for the day. "Mmm-mm-m-mmm-mm"

"I'm sorry?"

He took a bite and held the remainder of the slice, "You have a sweet ass."

"Love you too, darling."

"You seem to have trouble following my conversations. We'll talk about it in therapy. Bye"

The toast was gone by the time Jerome reached the elevator, and he selfishly spent the entire ride down enjoying his therapy joke. They weren't really in therapy, Camille said that the day they needed it, she would just pay another man two hundred dollars an hour for a divorce instead. She was very fiscal. Outside, he looked back up at their apartment. It has just one ornament visible from the street, a bright yellow fake sunflower twisted around the balcony. He blew the flower a kiss, flipped up his collar, and started down the street. 

---

He stared at the black streaks across his vision, and the pale background that was his ceiling. Eventually he got up, showered, dressed, looked to see if there was anything of dire importance on the news (it would be horrible to get to work and find out you've missed a natural disaster, wouldn't it?), grabbed his peacoat and headed downstairs. Outside he looked at the surrounding buildings, and felt a pinch somewhere when he thought he saw a fake sunflower, way up high. Squinting, he determined it was actually one of the plastic apparatuses that spin interestingly in the wind. He laughed aloud, catching the eye of the man hidden inside the magazine kiosk. He didn't usually remember dreams that well, but then again, who could forget a Camille? Especially one like that. He let out one of those long, walking sighs that no one can hear outside, and allowed himself only a brief  few seconds to feel the real pain of only having a taste of things, then he walked on. He would name his first kid Noah.

(Sometimes we're just tired, God bless)

Frail

The wooden man,

Was built in mild August,

Given life by September,

And assimilated into the town nicely.

He helped everyone,

He carried groceries, painted houses,

Marched in parades as children,

Hung by his arms and sat on his shoulders.

When the storm hit,

And the medicine ran out,

He walked to the next town,

The blizzard did not take with it a soul that year.

As the generations bent forward,

Like a mother towards a crib,

He watched the skin wrinkle,

And marveled at his own steadfastness.

When his creators died,

He attended their funeral,

Stood testament to their genius,

And always kept their graves.

It was only when their grandchildren,

Were just coming of age,

That the first splinter came,

Fluttering off his thick arm.

His two yellow eyes,

Stared for a very long time,

Where the groove came in,

Deep in the forest where he lived.

He began to creak,

But could not find where from,

And the sound became very irritating,

And the children preferred to play inside.

In the forest the animals,

Attended and played the audience,

As the creation came down,

In the silence he was born with.

The yellow eyes began to fade,

As the wooden man sat down,

Slowly rested on the ground,

And felt his broken hinges.

The children found him,

Though these were too young to know,

And played king of the hill,

On a very strange rock.

Time covered him with moss,

White perennials and a gentle shaft of sunlight,

And the wooden man went back,

And he stopped being so sad.

And a Quickening Pace

It gives an infrequent change,

Like the first chord of a new song,

The foggy morning beyond my bed,

And I think how I used to be able to think,

And the smile is so wide.

And even as the heart begins to ache,

The muscles cry and the eyes open,

I am able to move on,

Because it exists somewhere,

Though possibly never for me again,

Somewhere it moves.

Demons

Self-doubt,

Excess,

Selfishness,

Me,

Screaming with,

Head pressed against the wall,

Screaming with,

All your friends in their homes,

There for you.

It'll all be better one day,

It just takes time,

Can you sleep?

For You in the Empty Apartment

Calling out,

With eyes so helpless,

No one will see them,

Gone with the closing,

Locking of doors,

Everyone else matters so much,

More-why are you being selfish?

Quit thinking of yourselves.

You beautiful pillars,

Show nothing,

Keep virgin love from their clutches,

And hold fast to your Bibles,

To your pasts and your minds,

For it will only get colder,

So you must be brighter,

You must never lose,

With tears and black clothing,

Free us.

I'm Ruining This For Me

In the dark,

I am ready for you,

Oh Sun,

Rising to wonder my dull eyes,

My unshaven chin,

I cannot uphold this commandment,

I cannot keep Your strength,

I feel cold red wood,

On the empty soles of feet,

I hear it swirling,

Beneath my conscious thought,

What are You doing where we cannot see?

I keep breathing,

Is it mine own?

Slowly, down the hall,

Alone in this wider space,

Bigger than You,

Her,

My entire unremarkable state,

If you are ever to read this,

On dried parchment in dusty corridor,

And imagine who I was,

Remember me!

I will have no part in it,

I will know not your tribute,

How many generations do we have left?

No one has told me the answers to anything that matters,

And I have not yet found out myself,

And I cannot make myself cry for the fact of it.

I will forget it all by morning.

Friend

You're dead now,

Run from eternity please,

I'm gone in the black desk chair,

I'm done in the wild wild west,

But the deserts persist, 

The dry air calling out my life,

It's a trial I'll have to suffer through,

It's a thing of the past,

My childish awe at everything,

You touched.

I'm Dying to Find Out

If it's nothing we could imagine,

Yet we so desperately seem,

To know what's going on,

The fear to let go rises,

The training to never accept uncertainty,

As it blares in the face of everything you've experienced,

In the educated drunkard the opinion rises,

That it is so much bigger.

I'm crying and ripping apart to meld with you.

Prayer

Coughing,

She showed up,

To ask for my help,

The white foam suicide,

Against the cold winter rocks,

And me and the lighthouse broken,

All we weakened could do,

Pointed her up coast,

While we two frozen,

With grey clouded eyes,

Watched the ships fight.

Politics

The ship run aground,

We all got out and felt,

The coarse sand falling,

Between dirty fingers,

And running down the,

Beach full of light it,

Started to dawn on us that,

For the most part,

Each of us had drastically changed positions, 

Than previously held.

What Grabbed My Attention

Wrapped in

Red wondering

Your coarse blouse

Against my cheek railing

The slow sleek fan

Drawing on dawn we feel

It may be coming today.

It may be just about time for it today.

Thank God Someone Invented A Word For It.

My life summed up,

Holding our child against the wind,

A deep turquoise blanket wrapped,

Love is about all I could think of.

Physics

Words spread through,

Almost every time I want,

Running fingers through hair,

I don't say anything,

And watch it burn,

With careful attention,

Not to harm the arbiter.

The rain on the bells,

A deep purple by the barn.

Everything beats,

Whether I want it to or not,

And you, too,

Try me sometimes,

And I want to manage,

I think I really do,

Sometimes,

Paying careful attention,

To touching shoetips together.

The rain on the bells,

A deep purple by the barn.

I can't look at them,

In the streets they scare me,

Faces everywhere running,

It's jumbled and crumbling and wrong,

But if your face be there,

Your eyes-they are safe.

The rain on the bells,

A deep purple by the barn.

The swallow outside,

I can't imagine it would stay for long,

Stay with me today,

Please stay with me here,

It won't be for very long,

But houses are cages to,

So I hear.

The rain on the bells,

A deep purple by the barn.

I don't know,

Hold on,

I love you,

The sounds are gone,

This is what I think.

The rain on the bells,

A deep purple by the barn.

Human touch forgotten,

Perhaps I have lived,

Perhaps this has made me holy?

I am unsure, but they say

Writing this will help:

It's the pounding in my head,

It's the rising raft and so alone,

It's just physics, Love. 

Saint-Saens

In the velvet seat,

I don't have to talk to you,

My eyes are useless,

But for tears,

As the strings flow up and down,

I almost whisper how little I care,

About the divorce,

In the face of all this,

Please, 

But for now,

Let me have this love.

In the Morning When Things Come Around

That I have survived a night,

With fireside warmth,

The love of friends,

And a smile on my face,

With all that I have done,

Makes me question the existence of God,

More than anything else.

Patience is a Vice

I feel them,

Behind my shoulders,

Shifting the ice of sidewalks,

They are my approaching wall,

They are what I will meet if I do not,

Never turn back.

I see them,

Through shop windows with painted words,

The fog on their breaths,

My every long winded thought,

In dark coats they wait,

For me.

For me.

Shroomy Was a Good Friend

You asked, 

And I told,

All that I thought of this place,

This night,

These eighteen years,

And the lights outside the hotel window,

(Ground floor)

Were shining steady,

When you asked,

And all I could do was shrug.

Cassandra

It it takes,

Till I am an old man,

With the right music running in circles,

I will get back to,

My Cassandra my

Blazing crown queen,

The fairy home,

Surrounded in fog,

Your scarf trailing behind

My Cassandra my,

Violet menace to my health,

The doctors don't know,

The murmur in my heart,

Is your whisper,

Taken to extremes,

My Cassandra my,

Broken heart story,

Always gets old,

But we always got old,

And we did everything we could to stop it,

My Cassandra My,

We sure did try,

To not let it get us down,

The cold, I mean.

Fire

With every turn of your hips,

Pursing of tight lips,

The sweat on the sides of my temples,

Travels down with fire inside.

Holland

So if we don't get out,

If one thing goes wrong after another,

If you fold under,

And I pack my favorite shirts,

Then remember what I wrote,

About summer and Holland and everything,

And try to think of that,

Over the sound of an empty garage,

If you must remember.

When

When we're all molten,

Melted and safe,

My lips will still quiver,

Seconds away from yours,

Smelling the static between,

The lush,

Red apple,

Was too hard for me,

And it dropped to the ground,

The moon saw me down,

And it all went up and away.

Percival

So it ran like this,

We all saw it coming so we all let it come,

And it swamped every one of us,

And like flies,

We all came back,

To look at the aftermath,

The wreckage of the final defeat,

But there was Percival,

Old, blind, and small,

Buried under the broken splinters,

Of the Old Town Hall,

And he looked up,

And looking like a mole he said,

Absent of tantrums and fits,

"Happiness like this will be the death of me,

I'm glad to share it all with you."

And he died on that spot,

We all watched him do it,

The audacious prick actually got out.

Hell!

Taking Another Hit I Most Certainly Deserve

It hurts,

And it's going to get worse,

Because I want it too,

I hope you're all not too tired,

Because you just might drop it if you are,

But it's coming to a peak here,

Another tower of Babel for sure,

And I'm getting on to screaming,

As some of us diverge,

It's a rough wall and you're lucky to get around,

But I'll hold as many hands as I can,

With my own meager faith,

We'll hopefully laugh about it later,

We'll hopefully finally find our heads in all this,

Or maybe I'm just an optimist,

Or maybe you're just too quiet to agree.

Plans...Sort Of.

If I break tonight,

Trust me I'll call you,

It's about the last thing I'd want,

To be trouble,

But truth is you're the only one I'd trust,

With a stupid thing like this,

So hopefully that won't happen,

I mean really that won't happen,

But I'll come to you,

Through all of this snow,

Shivering to make a point,

If you'll open the door,

I'll most likely never leave,

Unless you move.

Kiddy Games

You're running across it,

Suddenly it's the parachute I ran under,

As a child with rainbow colors,

Darting overhead,

I'm ten years again,

And just as unrealized,

But I sleep better,

For a time,

Thinking of the future,

Thinking of you.

Almost

On a windowsill,

Leg's bent like mountains,

I'll rest my arm across them,

Flutter fingers,

Imagine the sound of bird wings,

And watch the European day rise,

Over the tall fields,

Almost time,

And listen for the sound of steps,

Across the wooden floor of this place,

It's not yet breakfast,

I have my tea alone here,

Almost time,

I can imagine you here,

See you in the window here,

Never once had I ever dreamed,

Never once did I touch your face,

Self-restriction,

Almost time,

This place,

The flutter of the birds,

The scent of raspberries,

The shine of the early dawn,

At once,

I'm almost gone now.

Come What May

Try to give it a careful looking,

Over the cliff before you go,

Check with family and the like,

See what you hear about the whole thing,

If you're crazy as hell,

People will let you know,

Surrender to that thought if you want,

But it's all the same,

Till your feet leave the ground,

And you plunge downward,

Come what may,

You fall downward,

Come what may.

Coming Up On It

It's a training ground,

And I can't say we haven't learned anything,

Because you're not stopping me,

And I think I know where my feet go next,

So we sit slicked back,

Lazily amongst blue tableclothed plastic tables,

With plastic cutlery,

And a sort of richness of soul,

That knowing look,

And I can't even see you from where I am,

But we've come here before,

On long nights in the patient dark,

And we've shed nothing,

That was most important,

I know that it's a risk more than yours,

But that's where we are,

And you have been wonderful.

The Wolf

You'll ruin something tonight,

And I'll break another heart,

Or at least severely wound,

With my red wine and your devil's lips,

Swaying across the full carpet in this room,

How many people are we forgetting?

How does the morning come for us,

When we have shut so much out?

Your hair pulled back,

My sleeves up,

We'll strain this till it breaks,

Because it's a violent ritual,

We can't get away from,

And you're biting your lip just as hard as me,

Till it bleeds from the wait and pressure.

Up for a Time

You're pulling me haggard,

You're running me along,

Swept up in white silken,

Night traces,

The curve of your back,

Explained by the darker songs,

Of the English and their losses,

The English love their losses,

Caught up in a side-by-side,

Race for curing ourselves,

You'll cry out when it's time,

And I'll be sure to,

Stand there stark still,

I'm truly a lark in such situations.

Put It On the Calendar

Suddenly it's a cold rush,

The sweeping wind,

A mountain peak,

The heart beats faster,

Every eyelash,

Of your deep green,

Entrances me up here,

Every pore on your skin,

The glancing light from your nails,

With every faculty,

I am aware of the body beside me,

The tightening back muscles,

So new to this,

So unprepared,

The heart beats faster,

Faster,

We have every right to this here.

Under a Tree I Tried to Talk Buddha Out of It

It's very nice,

To sit here alone,

To remember every crack in your pale skin,

And give that weak smile of pure gratitude,

Looking at the open black ceiling,

We are so far away,

From each other,

In the same room we run miles,

To keep you from seeing me,

To keep my selfish solidarity,

Will we ever come to the point?

I'm feeling the weight of the blood,

In my veins wondering why,

We run miles,

To keep from being seen,

The echoes snap on,

Pictures of a past we so yearn for,

Memories are so much better,

Than what I feel now,

Sifting through my unsteady hands,

Like sand, or of a finer grit,

The powder of what I wanted,

Out of life,

As a child I would shake my fists,

With rolled up sleeves and cry,

It was so right,

You got it so right,

We weren't going to have to do anything,

And now this,

And now we run miles,

To catch up with something we never quite defined,

But please don't admit to all you're tired now,

Oh please breath heavy into my ears,

Close your eyes and just once,

Look for me.

Tell Me We Have Lived

The hot, torrid air hung listlessly.

It bore down with a certain nonchalance, with the patient heave of one who is not concerned with time, who is content with the gradual advancement of its goal. The rusted cars could be seen beyond the terrace, whirling past each other on great arches of concrete. The birds became black statues on the telephone wires. Nothing moved that did not have to move. 

He let his head slip partially to the right, and his pupils followed as if they were tiny black marbles rolling in his eyes.

She stood in front of the dresser mirror, thrusting her stomach forward slightly. A plain white tank top was pulled up, revealing her fit midriff. It glistened from the heat of the day, and her hand cast a brief shadow upon it before coming to rest there. He saw the light over the unpainted hardwood, the last traces of the day, seeming to grow shorter as time disappeared. Not disappeared, but moved past them and on into eternity.

"Do you think it would be right, bringing a child into this world, as it is right now?" she asked, still facing the mirror.

He looked up at her from his chair in the middle of the room, seemed to ponder the question for a moment, then answered, "I would like to think so. The world may be due for some improvement. It took a pretty good round of hits when we were growing up, maybe a kid now would be able to ride that good wave in. It would be risky though, the world's bound to be turn south again not long after that."

She turned to face him, and it was all he could do to stand the fear in her deep brown eyes. She quickly turned back around, tucking a fit of black hair behind her ear. She watched her stomach. "You know I'm not usually this vulnerable. I usually carry my own phenomenally well, considering."

"I know."

"I don't know what things must be coming to, if it starts to bring down people like me and you. What must things be coming to..."

He gently slid the bow off the ground and began to play. The sun seemed to pause in it's decent, but of course that was only a misconception one feels at times. It sounded like Redemption, but that's just one interpretation. 

There were fewer birds now on the lines outside. The sun was almost gone, the last streaks of red wavering behind the rises in the land. He finished and laid the cello down beside him on the hardwood. 

She came and sat on his lap. He gently rubbed the small of her back as she sank down. The sun escaped with the last of the day while they sat in the open air.

Eyes closed, she whispered into his chest, "He could at least use something bigger than a one-room apartment."

"Who said it was a he?"

But she was already asleep, already a little French girl back in the countryside with her father, looking out at the blue, blue mountains. 

A Persistently Flashing Light

We forget,

That we can still surprise people,

That we can matter to someone else,

Like we thought we should,

But it rings in our ears,

The weeping soul,

For all the loss that has been ours,

Caused and felt,

It moves through all our thought,

A recurring stain on hope,

But we forget,

That we can still make children smile,

With hand gestures and morphed faces,

Human helicopter rides,

Around the empty apartment,

There is still something there,

Even though we hate ourselves for it,

There is still humanity,

Even though we don't deserve it at all.

It's Like That Break in the Clouds on a Road Trip

A warm night,

To believe in,

Everything seems hopeful,

If you close your eyes,

A feeble beauty,

Supports all that I stand on,

But a heavy current,

Carries us both through to space,

To Union,

To a welcomed sigh,

Of rest and happiness,

There is so much,

That I'd hate to be without,

You.

Slow Steady Drops Onto the Floor

It's a want,

A pure, selfish want,

And one I don't hide,

I miss so,

So much,

That time together,

When it was good to wake up,

When we made the best mistakes,

When we had no idea what we were witnessing,

It stays with me to this day,

A fresh wound,

They nod their heads,

But only you understand, really,

Only you friends,

Understand the jubilance when I say,

"It was beautiful,

And nothing hurt."

Young Adults

If I ever stare,

I hope you don't mind,

It's just eyes being honest,

Some wires getting crossed,

I really hope you don't think it wrong,

Sometimes I could really use your approval,

Sometimes I feel like just running out of this building,

I could be on the verge of some great fall,

And that makes my heart jump,

The excitement of falling through,

I really wish I could make people proud of me,

When I sit,

At night,

Sacrificing the present to tailored dreams.

A Distinct Lack of Deception Was Present

If you lay down,

On the wet, dark green,

The fat blades of grass,

Swept smooth by the low wind,

And look out over the grey,

Passing waters,

It doesn't seem so hard to love,

In the ungraspable sense,

Stretching wide to take in everything,

Fingertips straining,

Tilt your head back,

If you could just feel this rain,

You would hear it to.

The beckoning call of all those who refused. 

Venus is Curvy

It would be much simpler,

To assume that no one will know,

What you feel and what you fear,

And how close the two sleep,

The feeling of leaking,

Of a forehead against a peeling wall,

Close your eyes and listen to the rest of us,

We're just on the other side,

Put your hand up to mine,

Trembling lips,

What do you say?

It's a Mocking Smile Across the Room

It's a cold gap,

A space that shouldn't be there,

That leaves me,

Lurching and reeling,

Praying,

With beads of sweat,

For some sense of closure here,

Some need of touch,

Of understanding,

A warm, smooth voice,

An equal,

A beloved adversary,

In passionate entanglement,

Rising to fill the loneliness,

That surrounds me like wolves,

Does anyone hear this frequency?

If you can't don't try,

Across this chasm,

Of Derailment and Wishful Tries,

Does anyone understand this?

Does anyone vie for this?

Take Care Samantha

I remember,

The catatonic woman on the third floor,

Of the hospital where my father worked,

And the man who slept next to her,

In the chair he dragged across the room,

With his head in her lap,

He spoke to me about her smile,

And I could imagine it so well,

Oh how his hands would shake,

And he would whisper in her ear,

Something he would never tell me,

It was between them he said,

Something he had promised to do,

I visit him when I come home sometimes,

He is now in his own bed beside hers,

Lung cancer is one tough customer,

So my father says,

But it is still in his eyes,

Whatever he still whispers to her,

And I know,

There are some people who do right in this world.

Don't Shake Like That It Betrays You

We're running,

Wide eyed,

Into the night,

Necks inclined,

We stare at the sky,

Breathing steam,

Excitement,

We push ourselves harder,

Because it's up to us now,

To move the world,

Feet crunching into snow,

This is being alive,

This is purpose,

We grab hands,

It will be harder now,

We run harder now.

Effort

Your asleep,

By the end of the movie,

And I'm running down,

To carry you back upstairs,

So tired,

Of these bleak wooden steps,

Staring into static every night,

Praying for a new masterpiece,

Like a bright red bicycle,

To replace what I have made,

But I have made you,

As you smile serenely under covers,

And for that,

I will never stop being thankful,

I will never stop trying to make things better,

For you.

Tinseltown

Strong,

I feel so strong and so hollow in this,

Like memory,

Straining every detail,

The light on the table,

The dust in the air,

Two bodies stand apart,

Your white blouse stands out in front of the curtains,

Ruffled and shaking,

The light displaying an open stage,

An advantage that no one takes,

Because we both feel right in this,

And no one is shaking their fists at us,

So we go right on,

Erring.

No one is telling me what I'm doing wrong anymore.

Traveler

She rides rails,

Across the Western European ruins,

Imagining the love that took place,

Over hills and under vineyard trees,

To the sound of a brass quartet,

Mourning the November winds,

She drinks in the last of a day,

Retiring to the bed of a Lithuanian,

With jet black hair and beaten skin,

Lines of his life shoot across his forearms,

As they quiver and flex with his work,

He does not speak to her much anymore,

And seems to take his years with a determined passing,

Intent on the end result-whatever that may be,

She thinks of her father,

Laughing at the table outside an Italian restaurant,

In his frayed white suit,

The one that they buried him in last April,

She remembers his last words to her,

"The juniper seems awfully overgrown,"

Breaking her concentration she sees,

The man is watching her,

Studying, saying nothing,

She smiles weakly and brushes back her calm brown hair,

This is another instantaneous moment of your life,

Remember and cherish them like children,

For sometimes they are all we have.

Gritting Teeth

Downcast eyes,

Their unpainted lids piercing,

What is it to be good?

The fall of the century,

I'm swinging at thin air,

You're wanting to hope,

That it gets better than this,

Don't for one second think,

I don't feel for every step you take,

So I will find a way to save this,

I will vie the world.

Snowstorm

When words,

They don't come,

And the frost on the window,

Doesn't give any comfort,

Barricaded against the outside,

We huddle together for warmth,

My thoughts and I,

And we think of you,

In your own snowstorm on the other side of our small farming town,

Can we make it?

Can everyone come out,

With blinking eyes and scrunched up faces,

And take stock of things,

Of the frost on the windows,

Of the houses they leave,

And decide that outside,

It's better here,

And it really is important.

Aphrodite

She stops shivering,
After wrapping herself in the burgundy shawl,
And stands in the kitchen entrance,
A rare occasion indeed,
Such things do not happen to me often on earth,
The only red wine is uncorked,
For we are sad tonight,
But linked,
Her in my arms on the faded green couch,
The glasses do not clink,
Aphrodite has come to spend the night,
In my fourth floor apartment,
Asleep in my arms,
The bottle lies half-empty,
On the kitchen counter,
I am reading the Divine Comedy,
And thinking of friends,
Laying my hand gently on her hair,
Fingertips barely touching the surface,
Why are we given what we are?
It is well into the morning,
The bottle lies half-empty,
Not even a hair remains on the shawl,
Nothing of her ever having been,
But an empty glass,
And a big heart,
That leaves the door unlocked,
In hope of everything,
And in the light of it being November,
Warm rooms sound nicer.

The Queen

All the well-lit paths,
Are filled with hands-in-hands this evening,
With blushing smiles and quickly caught laughs,
And she is no exception,
Although she be the highest of these,
In a green gown she moves,
With the simplicity of humility,
And a downcast glowing countenance,
She is queen tonight,
And everyone is asleep,
As the queen breaks free,
And sails into the crisp night sky.

Sounds

It's a running away,
If you want to call it that,
It's a steady walking out,
Down a lighted sidewalk,
No one follows,
No one hears,
The sounds that fill my eyes tonight.

ASD (abbrev'd)

I felt it a lot stronger tonight than I usually do.

Under An Awning

The last summer rain,
Still fresh on her cheeks,
As are my lips,
That then find her forehead,
Her closed eyes,
Her shy nose,
And her lips,
Tasting the dew of a morning,
And the reason for living.

The Minister's Daughter

Heaven,
Must be full of people like you,
Holy and perfect,
You always have been,
The minister's daughter,
In the back of the service,
You care but it takes effort,
I wish I could help you with that,
Your thoughtful eyes,
Watch but never judge everyone you meet,
With jetted hair,
I expected you to walk right out of my life,
But it was my leaving,
An angel like you,
Would never dream of such a thing,
With such a fervency as I dreamt of you,
Under my awning out of the rain,
You wanted to say it all,
Or at least write it down,
So you asked for some paper,
But I was already out the door,
And you pulled your black pea coat tighter,
Continuing to hurt,
And when I came back down that road,
On a Sunday years later,
You continued to hurt,
We had coffee,
You caught me up on everybody,
I talked about everyone else,
And laughed to myself,
Because you're the only one I really wanted to know about.

Jugband

I want so much,
To sway like the bass lines,
To drift in triplets,
Falling asleep behind a county fair,
The oldest generation,
Is about the only one worth keeping here,
With their small eyes and worn hands,
They have seen these towns grow,
But still remember bare mountainsides,
I want to give it all back,
The land and the future,
For those who were schooled in church,
And born onto stone floors,
And to the same,
When they can no longer see the sky,
I will be truly sorry.

America Plan B

When we finally stop talking about growing up,
And step out with our chins high,
And get our heads knocked off,
And fall miles,
And lose faith,
And quit dreams,
And settle down,
With failure,
I will not stab you in the back,
I will not lose any of this,
I will always love you.

If I Had a Sister

And then she turns,
Beaming and glowing,
I want to hide like a child,
Under the table or behind the barn,
But she is there,
Beaming and glowing,
Brightening up the sky at noon,
Resting under the shaded sycamores,
With braided hair she reads,
Beaming and glowing,
We are all just looking for this,
Under our tables and behind our garages,
And she provides the only clue,
Beaming and glowing,
She laughs.

White Kitchen Top

Trembling,
I may be accepting this,
As how you're going to be,
And frightening,
As your scowl is in the morning,
I can't imagine,
Anyone else next to me,
So please shout,
And throw cooked things at me,
When you feel like you're cheated,
Because honey I do to,
And when all we have,
Is that old heirloom coffee table,
Well.
We'll go ahead and sell that too.

My God

My God,
We're still shooting,
At each other's hearts,
Like we had something else to lose,
And my God,
They're still coming on television,
To tell us we're all doomed,
Like we don't know.

All My Life

Down on the wooden dock,
The white rim of her summer dress waves in circles,
And the brown curls don't reveal a thing,
He wishes it was better,
But the gulls and she will never know,

At the county fundraiser,
He's taking coats while she watches the nursery,
They never get anything done,
And he wishes it was better,
And he hands back their coats,

The end of the year dance sees,
The red rim of her formal dress waves in circles,
With nothing in his eyes he walks away,
The black chords of her eyelashes,
Never noticing,

And he thinks about the war and his brother,
And he wishes things were better from the top,
Of a sunset covered bulldozer,

He's floating along,
Through friend's houses and families,
And he wishes they would stay together,
But they and the unopened table wine will never know,

So he takes up his green knapsack,
With some food and a picture,
And she is fast asleep,
And he wishes things were better,
As the powerlines fade behind.

We're Only Children Ourselves

The ribbed sound of the rain on hollow bamboo,
Fascinates both of these children,
A boy and a girl,
Concealed in the elephant leaves,
Watch the shivering curtain before them unravel,
And collect in the muddy clay banks,
One of his overalls is torn,
So she gave up one of her ties to fix it,
One blonde pigtail still protruding like a limp antenna,
He says it was his birthday yesterday,
Although he's not very sure,
But it would make him nine,
Valiant and fair-skinned,
He thinks to himself,
But stays like a heart-stopped rabbit in the leaves,
Her eyes trace his back,
The lumps of his spine showing through red and white stripes,
She imagines a tiger,
Waiting,
Thankfully the rain hides the boy's tears,
And the birds his sobs.

Coal Burning Trenchfarers

In the middle of the earth-leeching city,
A baby boy was borne to no one in particular,
The product of a migrant with black farmer's cap,
In briefly held bond with a yellow seamstress,
He who came to be your Millard,
Was sent below the earth at nine,
To hollow and carve it out,
Like so many October pumpkins,
All his mechanisms worked,
For a time,
And you saw fit to accept him,
Entwining your futures,
And he gave you two beautiful dusty daughters,
With spirits like summer dresses,
And they had the most beautiful pairs,
Of two green eyes each,
That would soon call husbands of their own,
As your Millard ran down,
Like grinding gears,
That morning he stayed outside,
Millard, whom you came to love honestly,
And he beheld the foggy sun,
With broken eyes,
Kissed your cheek and went down,
And when the hungry mountain swallowed him whole,
His arms were not enough,
Brittle and hollow they began to pop under the weight,
Until he returned to no one in particular,
And the girls with their green eyes,
Looked up at the night sky in wonder.

Friend

I met an old Indian,
With hands that trembled,
And an uncertainty in his sleep,
He would bow his head like a priest,
But I could still see into his endlessly black eyes,
As the plane grew higher and higher,
He never said a word,
And as the sun touched his tunneled brown skin through the window,
I felt a twinge of pain that I could not name.

Where Are We?

A broken down Church sign
Reads: --After all-------------
---------------Love each other.
And it drags at my heart,
Like a child at my waistcoat,
With miniature gestures,
Inquiring as to where we are,
And I can only point,
My arm raising like a clock tower,
To point down the weakened road,
Its depressions and cracks,
But I have his hand,
And a certain absurd confidence,
That I have come to expect at times like this.

Harbor

It'll all be resolved,
If I have to die to see it,
It'll all be damn well in the end,
And we'll look over the ridge
And point and laugh and smile at each other,
With sore sides we'll never get tired of it,
It just never gets used up.

Thought #891389517.B

To be together, and to be miserable, is one of the greatest things about this life. Very few experiences can match that of tandem sorrow. -bluez

You Know What? Fifth Grade Sucked

It's in sunrises,
We're trained to find hope,
And in each other,
That things are supposed to matter,
But I don't want the world,
And I don't want to float,
In the past with no mistakes,
Every kind of failure will be mine,
Before they realize,
With unacceptable furrows,
I haven't lost a thing.

Ice Chips

Colder,
Whispers running through,
Your terrible blue skin,
My inadequate white lines,
And we'll swallow them separate,
Everything separates,
(Don't believe a word)

Thinking

Red wine,
Sits on checkered tablecloth,
Mourning the loss,
On the trails of summer.

The Trip

It's going to be,
A very long time,
And through this desert,
Only mirages remind,
Of the water I don't have,
And what that will mean for the end.
Godspeed!

That closet game, when you were about to stop being a kid.

In the bonus room,
Kissing the new girl,
The children snicker and,
Tap on the frosted window outside,
The fire,
Leaps at mixed feet,
And mixed thoughts,
Of love and the Super Bowl.

Long Trip

It's hard,
To miss the dust on new failure,
To stand before a burden so used,
And shoulder up again,
And look up again,
And have courage.

A Room

You're on tip toe,
I am half closed,
The ceiling fan in circles circles,
What is it we were supposed to do now?

Float

And you stand so still,
Beside pale blue orchids and breaking tide,
The tips of your left hand electrically,
Reverently,
Dance over your thigh,
And move through water,
Out of shore.

Waterfight

From the corner of my eye,
It's looking about like,
We could all jump the same bridge soon,
And shoot the breeze on the way down,
All the way down,
And have fun for once,
Before we're put in time out for ruining our clothes.

Mmm Pancakes

Making breakfast,
The sizzling coming from behind my shoulder,
The slant of even dawn onto the counter,
Your coffee mug writes 'All you need',
This is,
All I need.

We'll Leave by Noon

They talk of plans,
And planned jealousies,
And believe that this is it.

Please someone escape with me.

Responsibility

I'm going to let it beat me,
For a little while,
And stay in bed,
Until I'm needed at work.

Mars Teaser

**PRELIMINARY DRAFT**

A Divine April Fools

On April 1 at 22:13, the Orange Air Force base in Tuscaloosa detected nothing abnormal on the surface of the planet mars. A full sixty seconds later the planet's red, coarse wrapping was dotted with 16,242,070 white beings, all of about the same height of the earth equivalent to 5 feet and 9 inches. The researchers at the Orange Air Force did not at first detect all 16 or so million creatures. They did not have the appropriate ranged telescopes for such a discovery. What they did notice was the pale patch that now lay over a portion of the upper hemisphere, created by the creatures close relation to one another. The researches at the Orange Air Force base at first took this to be a mass of water newly exposed and promptly frozen. A full eighteen minutes passed on the planet earth before it was discovered that the ice was in fact alive. It was still not known that the life was sentient, but rather obvious as the patch began to move and spread. It would be 48 hours before the professional world would admit that an exceptionally large number of, for lack of a better word at the time, people now existed on the planet mars. They made this distinction very clear. Immediately plans were made to investigate closer and a number of astronauts who before had no launch expectation date were trained and prepped for the mission. They were to orbit the planet first, and use special instruments to discover just exactly what the people were doing. Upon relaying this back to earth, the astronauts would be advised either to, if they showed any signs of hostility, return home or else proceed to land a safe distance away from the borders the people had spread to. The radio communications would be aired live on both Fox News and CNN. The launch date was set for April 30th.

Rancharoo

I tried,
One day,
To be free as the birds,
And was kept from their sacred communions,
So I returned,
And found I was shut out by my fellow man as well,
For trying,
To be free.

E

Everything is right,
Everything is serene,
Everything is better,
Everything is in your dream.

And So It Begins

And so they begin,
The slow concessions of the night,
Amidst pallid stars,
You will give me less and less,
More and more of what I deserve,
The disposition of the lonely,
Sit alone on their hillocks,
And wait.

Ren

I'm feeling your face,
The grooves and lines,
The wrinkles around your lips,
Your downing brown hair,
Rises and falls in streamlets,
And your British blue eyes,
Know everything that is.

String on Your Little Finger

It's been a bust,
But what hasn't been lately?
You laugh,
And I forget about most things,
That I need to.

Sleep In

Four wooden windowpanes,
With the dew of tomorrow,
And the sun of a century,
Do well to give me reason to rise,
Do well to break the spell of this city.

Thum Thum

The drums,
Still ring in my ears,
Leaving the auditorium,

Thum Thum

You're left wanting,
One leg against the bare outside,
Maintaining face,

Thum Thum

You've never seen me,
I've never seen you,
This is evident,

Thum Thum

The moments break like glass,
Jagged moving to the electronic night,
My head is pounding

Thum Thum

You have too much eyeshadow,
You have bangs,
Your black hair glosses under the florescent light,

Thum Thum

I can't maneuver through the eager crowd,
You were about to leave,
I tell myself,

Thum Thum

Things break and form,
A beer bottle from your right hand,
Distractedly collapses on the concrete,

Thum Thum

You see,
I don't want you to see,
I tell myself,

Thum THUM

I'm tired,
I touch your cheek,
The broken glass crunches under me,

THUM THUM

You,
Mean,
Everything,

THUM THUM

A kiss.
.
.
.

THUM.

And then it's all out on the table so take your pick.

Brief

To put it quaintly,
Your lips on mine,
Hands at our sides,
That new yellow bird,
I forgot what kind,
Was chirping incessantly.

Violet

Violet,
Pale-skinned,
Gracing the world with her touch,
Of supple coercion,
Dark fawning hair,
Your thin hips float across the room,
And things are never the same,

Things are never the same.

Bring Her Home

Drink some wine,
Watch your children play,
And think of old friends,
That your old eyes saw in another life,
There you find it.

Triste

The Delorian rests at the curb,
I am so far away,
So much the weaker in this,
The tire swing rocks in the rain,
My knuckles are showing white futility,
What was control?
When I was the child,
Impenetrable infant,
Resting in something else,
Than everyone else's feelings,
No knowledge of that first fruit,
Of her uncursable _____ eyes!
It wrenches,
Tears with abandon!
No, this is not living,
This is an end in all certain terms,
It is slow but it is there,
Idling away into the street,
Yes tears,
Streams of spent effort,
To hang myself,
On another's decisions,
Gas down,
It lurches forward,
I seek tree,
Post,
Ditch,
Anything to stop my head,
From hurting so Goddam much.

Can't

This one I only see with a fireplace,
The one from our first house,
And the blue cotton blanket,
With your bare ankles,
Resting on the frayed edges,
Vivid,
As I pull the pillow over my ears.

Melancholia

Serving only,
To disenchant,
A problematic stratosphere,
With every broken,
Raven shore,
Disembodied translucents,
Chanting your march,
To the dry coast,
To the edge of melancholia.

Heyeveryonelookthisgoesattheendofyetanothernewstory

And then everything stopped mattering. The harmful effects of cigarettes, endless court battles, bottling up emotions; it all quit. It was as if reason was sick of trying, had packed house and left. Everyone else was still working, still earning thin slips of colored paper that they then gave in exchange for things, or put aside for later until they boasted a mountain of thin slips. When the week started again, everyone else complained about Mondays as they heaved off of their mattresses. Nez was unaware that it was Monday again, or that he should complain about it. He sat in front of the four-pane window in his room for most of Monday morning, then was asked if he wanted anything for breakfast. Nez said that he would, and promptly forgot all about breakfast. A tray of eggs, toast, and bacon with a glass of milk was placed on his lap and he ate until his body told him it didn't need to eat any more. Some people came by to visit Nez, but they only peeked in through his open door and Nez was still at the window. The people had come to visit with Nez, but every time they saw him they told themselves it was too hard and promptly left. Nez, because he was facing the window, never knew that anyone had visited him in the first place, and so was never saddened at this. What was there to be sad of anymore? What was Monday?

If We Still Pass Notes As Adults

If it makes up for anything,
I thought about you through every rain we had this week,
And almost showed up at your door,
Till I second-guessed myself,
But you know all about me and that,
It's very hard needing you out here.

NF

"Is that all right?" -Damien Rice, 9 Crimes

I remember,
The smoke on that yellow light night,
The red hem of her skirt,
Twirling,
In the safe leathered arms of her father,
Her pale complexion smiling up,
And the night before,
At her bedside she's telling me,
A failure a failure,
Nobody likes a failure,
And we're all failures to ourselves,
Flirting I took her hand,
And got a look into that girl's soul,
Catch silence,
The flickering behind a lampshade,
And we're all failures outside her door,
For just one more day,
Hoping to God she'll smile again,
And here she does,
In the smoke of this yellow light night,
See her as she will always be,
See what really pumps your heart,
Her every move,
A lifetime of your most precious dream.

Block

Just us here-two,
Cold and damp and solitary,
My nervous arrogant assertions,
Echoing off the concrete slabs,
And the markings on the floor,
Point to every way but out,
And every answer but the one I want,
It's not acceptable to leave this untouched,
Like some leper's heart,
Carve into it with all the surgical ideas you have,
And my dim wit doesn't serve to light the morning,
Any better than your shallow breathing.

Slog

Breakneck,
Break wrist,
Break any bone you want,
Break away,
From me,
Or the domestic,
Or Denver,
In the cold,
Wind,
Blows,
Your hair,
Our love.

Failed the Literacy Test

It's in check,
My mind,
Your heart,
But I'm choking down syrup to tell you the truth,
Over all of these walls,
Your thick purple guises,
Drip down to checkmate,
And I know,
I told you I know,
Dammit I know,
My own steeples are falling,
My own distances calling,
To check mind again,
To lie again,
Very close-with honours,
Into all the ears that won't listen.

My Comforter Has Like 80 Stains from Various Italian Dishes

It was cowardly of me,
To assume that glorious falsehood,
And I take full responsibility of that.

And I am responsible for every night,
Hidden in blue cover timidity,
Where I smile in understood nievate.

Think not on success, nor victory, nor pride,
Think not on passion and memories!
Live in the eyes of your lovers and here alone.

Cobblestones took me captive,
They all took me apart,
To the four corners of the border states.

Window seat on a train,
There is just one small crack,
For the air to seep through.

I think it's the breathing,
That really gets me stuck,
In the usual mud.