s c r i b b l e s

tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79549632012-02-05T21:11:01.221+13:00s c r i b b l e s(this is NOT poetry)shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09334011827321848353noreply@blogger.comBlogger4041100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-19800006581902134342009-04-17T11:48:00.003+12:002012-01-08T17:00:23.475+13:00night swim

in the fluid darknessbeneath the waves of bedclothes and flotsamshe dips slowly inher hands leading herin search of a pearlon the sea-beddrifting lazily along my currentsher searching fingers blindly exploring unseen crannies her tongue seeking and tasting saltforming new surges in my body of water as she dives deeper downshe coaxes tremendous swells and i break through the

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-3490488712358685642008-10-10T23:18:00.000+13:002008-10-11T04:50:54.358+13:00hot

petite but potentmy Chihli Padisends spicy textssome about memoriessome about fantasiessome about promisesas i blushsometimes in remembranceall around me -as i imagineand i anticipate -suddenly turns sultryand i'm soakedright down there

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-78639187510870866132008-09-22T03:55:00.003+12:002008-09-22T04:17:21.810+12:00my baby doesn't

my baby doesn't let me kiss herin public - "i don't do PDA's"she tells me, adding, "=( i'm sorry"i tell her it's okay i'll get used to itbut i wish i didn't have to make sure we are alone before i'm allowed to kiss herand embrace her and i wonderwhy she doesn't want ourlove to be publicmore than shyness is sheperhaps ashamed of us?(i hope not - i don't think i'll ever want to get used to that)or

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-53204205472093630212008-07-24T16:35:00.001+12:002008-07-24T16:37:00.790+12:00vulnerable

i stand before youtake off my clothingpiece by pieceyou see my imperfect bodybared to youits scars and bruises and frecklesstretch marks and moles not at all vulnerable i tear open my chestreveal my pumping heartin the bloody gaping woundpeel off the suit of my skinnerves and musclesnothingi stand before youbarednot at all vulnerablebut your knowledge of the invisiblescars and bruisesold wounds

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-63390135537245972822008-07-22T04:14:00.005+12:002008-07-22T04:26:12.969+12:00Even Shorter Really Short Short Stories: The Scraped Scenes From Shakespeare Series

orThe To Be Or Not To Be SeriesorThe One Monologue Fits All SeriesorThe Misplaced Monologue SeriesorThe Same Old Soliloquy Series IJuliet wakes up in the tomb and finds Romeo sprawled across her bosom. She spots an empty vial in his hand and immediately (and correctly) deduces what has happened. She takes Romeo's dagger and positions it at her breast, saying, "Oh happy dagger – to be or not to be

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-7921343404254998042008-06-10T03:18:00.004+12:002008-06-10T04:18:15.742+12:00namely

my baby lies over the oceanher pillow talk echoes in my earshe calls to me my sibilant adjectival namegiven at birth but more often the several pet names she has conferred on meand with the breath of every murmurshe breathes life anew in meand with the evocation of every sobriquetshe lays claim to meinscribes upon me an/other identityforges a bridge of history with which our two lives are

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-7900039634195564442008-06-05T00:47:00.002+12:002008-07-22T14:37:58.153+12:00smile

i miss so much to feelthe warmth of your body next to minethe smile our bodies made on the bed(the one i wore)as we drifted off to sleepalone in my bedthere is no smile to be foundonly - perhaps - a little forlorn frowni make by my lonesome self

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-39918733301174764132008-06-05T00:38:00.000+12:002008-06-05T04:46:29.296+12:00star star

the star that walked me home tonight- the first i saw the one upon which i wished i might -i hope it's the same starthat watches over you as you lay asleep in bedtonight

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-59707459728455798422008-05-23T22:17:00.001+12:002008-05-23T22:17:35.879+12:00the word is:

insidious adj. intended to entrap or beguilestealthily treacherous or deceitfuloperating or proceeding in an inconspicuous or seemingly harmless way but actually with grave effectso many a negative connotationa creeper, sneaker, stealing, slithering closercloser like a disease or an enemy or amalaise noun a condition of general bodily weakness or discomfort, often marking the onset of a diseasea

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-32487242267982027332008-05-16T00:28:00.001+12:002008-05-16T04:43:29.773+12:00lying in bed without you

a line from a thousand lovesongs(insipid, sappy, and wallowing quite happily in its own misery)but late into the early morningin the stagnant blindness of my bedroomi - lying in bed without you -remember the 'C' of your bodyinto which mine so perfectly fitsand the leg - yours - which slipsso naturally between minehow your arm will try to pull me closer still to youlying in bed without youi

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-39683595725015999452008-03-25T23:07:00.001+13:002008-03-28T03:41:39.695+13:00um

i don't know why i feel so unsettled every time you leaveso unsteady, rattled as if i were on a high cliff peeringover the perilous edge, my balance precarious my stomach upsets from the vague but urgent panicof a traveler stranded on an arid plainhaving drunk their last drop of water by accidentthinking there was more water in the bottle than there really iswill you please let me know when the

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-55250025061448979252008-03-25T05:21:00.005+13:002008-03-28T03:40:44.250+13:00untitled

i had thoughtif only i could reach into my chestand pull out my hearti could examine itbloody in my handsand understand what it is feeling the condition of an apparently unstable organ whether it is bruising or bruisedwhether it is breaking or brokenwhether it is scarring or scarredwhether it is mending or mendedbut so bloody in my hands it isi cannot make out if it werejust tenderly crushed or

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-89288002723146459172008-03-08T23:07:00.001+13:002008-03-10T04:12:41.461+13:00pilferage

my head now seems emptiedof the thoughts and the ideas and the dreams withinmy heart now echoes hollowly with every beat and my lungs oh my lungsi am left breathless breathlessif you have stolen them allmy thoughts my ideas my dreams my breathi should not report the theftfor they are yours for the takingand if you had not taken themi would have given them to you anywaybut if i should steal from

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-63613483780685865462008-02-16T21:55:00.000+13:002008-02-17T03:14:57.185+13:00more than welly

i would like to be there with you squeezed into that space between one attosecond and the next where (i think) it is timeless and it would be just you and mewould you want to get lost in that moment with me?

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-34662593184226870002008-02-11T00:47:00.000+13:002008-02-17T03:14:12.379+13:00fill_in_the_blanks

a a a a a a a e e e i i i i i i i i i i o o o o o o o o o o u u u u uf_r _s l_ng _s y__ w_nt_ w_llb_t _ll _ c_n d_ n_w _sw_rk _t g_tt_ng _nt_ y__r l_f__nd w_sh y__ _nt_ m_n_

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-81342653588092356572008-02-10T19:11:00.000+13:002008-05-23T22:21:00.206+12:00still learning

to get used to sleep uncolored by dreamsto go through long stretchescompletely devoid of imaginationto unlearn behaviorisms and habitsborn of certain experiences(both the very bad and the very good)who knows who when what where why or howthen i remember today that life has no guaranteesand what i'm really learningstill am learning isto live with that

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-83200035659424700292008-01-31T23:25:00.000+13:002008-02-17T03:12:42.042+13:00text

already difficult enough to still be standingagainst the onslaughtof thoughts of youto be constantly missing youmuch harder howeverto keep myself fromdeluging you with text messages -just so you'd send one in reply, and thatin my mindwould mean wherever i amyou are also therealmost in real-time -at any time in my waking hoursnonono i must not text youwhile you sleep(must not seem needy must not

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-85236447177389432572008-01-28T23:48:00.000+13:002008-01-31T04:44:25.145+13:00counting

i've started counting the weekswatching the daysthe minutes since you leftoh why must February have 29 days this year?that's a whole extra 24 hours1,440 minutes i must find a way to fillor whittle awayand when will you set your clocks backso that the 1 incorporeal hour would be emptied and we are 1 hour closer to each other?my clock is already set ahead -its time has never been changed -because

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-31959371437240881472008-01-28T23:31:00.000+13:002008-01-31T04:48:33.257+13:00sleep

in the bus on my way homeafter trying to convince youto sleep to restand thinking i had succeededi closed my eyes to think of youlying in bed with your teddyand dream of you lying in bed beside meholding youbeing held by you - the strange familarityand unsettling ease -over and over again in my mind ...wake me up when you get herebut nowjust let me dream of you

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-60028347970838268242008-01-24T00:29:00.000+13:002008-01-24T06:10:48.767+13:00awake

coming home in the nighti always check the time display on my cellphone(always mentally adding 5 hours)wondering if it's too late to text you(it's 05:31 now: you'll wake in 90 minutes or so - maybe i should stay up 'til you awake?)i want to tell you howearlier this eveningyou were everywhereblatant in my thoughtshidden in everything i talked about(our friends, they didn't notice)now it's 05:57i

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-81333571114779763412008-01-22T23:23:00.000+13:002008-01-23T04:33:45.427+13:00spent

i don't need tickets that money can buy easily affordablebecause cents & dollars can be set asideto accumulateand be spent at a gobut no matter how manyseconds & minutes & hoursi set aside every daythey do not carry forwarddo not accumlateinto the days & weeksmonths & yearsi'd like to spend at a gowith you

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-64604392042874059822008-01-22T01:43:00.000+13:002008-01-23T00:20:13.357+13:0006:44 your time

i'm still awake on my tiny islandnot daring to text youin case i woke you before your alarm doesbut i feel compelled tosomehow connect with youeven if through meaningless wordsthat don't exist in real lifea reality that precludes usnot younot meusso that all i can donowand the only time i think of you which is when i take a breathall i can dois send strings of words such as(01:44

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-1774350014720895132008-01-20T23:44:00.000+13:002008-01-21T05:09:37.061+13:00numbers:apart

5 hours at a time4 at another5,305 air miles (but not enough frequent flyer miles to be claimed for tickets to see you)4,610 nautical milesthe Pacific Ocean(largest of the world's five oceans)the body of waterin betweenthe number of seconds, minutes, hours,days, weeks, months, and yearsas finite and infiniteas our schedules allowbut in my memoriesand in my dreamsoh-so closetogether

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-69198734047758889572008-01-15T21:57:00.000+13:002008-01-16T03:35:09.816+13:00watching you sleep

too far away from meremembering the nightshow close you werelike that teddy you clutch in your armyou'd hold me to sleepbut would roll away when you finally fell asleepand i'd wake upto move in closeto youwatching you sleepa mere kiss awaydistance i could close

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-16954150560556259872008-01-10T00:04:00.000+13:002008-01-16T03:18:02.223+13:00Short List

when you goi will take away with methe following items: the nights on which i'd kept you up refusing to let you close your eyes for even the slimmest scintilla of a second because i wanted you with me all of you all the time if only for that seemingly infinite moment that stretched and wrapped itself around the small finite universe only we two occupied when my blind fingertips beheld you

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-65464636222014859282008-01-09T23:57:00.000+13:002008-01-16T03:18:18.048+13:00taste

i taste with my fingertipsthe texture of your arm and neck and backthe goosebumps that trail behindmy fingertips the little fountains of shiversthat drench them uponarrivalwhatever these fingertips do not seek(always travelling blindly)whatever they do not look forthey find in surprise - and spades - wherever they stopornot

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-55544672645075730162007-11-23T16:28:00.000+13:002007-11-24T06:19:13.176+13:00Sonnet XIV (With Further Apologies To E. Barrett Browning)

(... and no goddamn thanks at all to my boss.) If you must irk me, you had better not Come up with half-assed reasons. Do not say"I irk you for I'm bored -- always -- all dayIn the office, -- for I have not one thoughtThat falls within logic and reason, not'Specially in a conventional way" --For these things in themselves, asshole, mayBe fatal for you, -- and fury, so wrought,Will not be

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-88046024326590848742007-11-22T14:30:00.000+13:002007-11-24T05:58:38.871+13:00Sonnet XLIII (With Apologies To E. Barrett Browning)

(... and no goddamn thanks to my boss.)How do you irk me? Let us count, shall we?You irk me to the depth and breadth and heightA saint would reach, feeling out of sightFor the ends o' disbelief and absurdity.You irk me to the degree of hourlyThoughts o' 'crutiatingly tor'trous homicide.You irk me freely, as imbeciles have died.You irk me thor'ghly, as they shat their brains.You irk me with the

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-3841269669168833472007-10-21T05:20:00.000+13:002008-01-23T00:23:28.748+13:00still have not

to s date Oct 19, 2007 4:40 PMsubject Re: ooh ... don't forget meOct 19, 2007 1:02 PM enjoying itsy bitsy frosted chocolate cupcakes:still have not forgotten you Oct 19, 2007 2:53 PM sifting through the scholarships and awards available:still have not forgotten youOct 19, 2007 7:13 PM doctor inserts the needle into my arm and draws three vials of blood:still

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-63165834010825381402007-09-04T23:49:00.000+12:002008-01-23T00:24:42.624+13:00hello there

my lovely boy ah my naughty sexy toyso thick and longso smooth and strongi can't wait to warm youwith my fingers barely closing 'round you'tween my thighsboth wounding 'round youi can't wait to try you on for sizeas i shimmy up your length,sliding down, then up againi can feel you getting wetslick and slippery with sweatthere's no denying how i feelmy rapt'rous pleasure and my thrillwhen i have

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-2269590711945915932007-08-14T13:45:00.000+12:002007-08-15T01:46:11.680+12:00trigger

you are a triggerthe triggermy triggerthat you set me off is truebut not just me either you set off words like dartsvolleys of arrows or daggersmissiles that sting and smartand never never ever miss their markalways but always strike the bullseye that's my heartyou are the trigger on a gunthe one i hold to my headthe lead that will wound then entomb itself in my brainand stain my blank walls

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-45224690214708016502007-08-14T13:43:00.000+12:002007-10-24T05:23:39.299+13:00don't stop now

would you care to jugglethis my hearta flaming fireballfor your amusement?toss it drop it smother it your hoarfrost hands don't burnand icicled-fingertips won't meltso that again and againas you juggle this burning ballyou lacerate it stab itstab it stab it (is it dead yet - no?)stab itstab itwith your barbed and bladed wordsstab itdoes it still burn?then drop it smother it crush itextinguish it

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-57348078498989465432007-07-29T02:54:00.000+12:002007-07-30T03:51:15.885+12:002 Shorts That Went Nowhere

(These were drafted on 6/17/07 and forgotten, because they were going nowhere.)Love is like a bruise. You nearly always get it when you're not looking - especially when you're not looking.Love bruises. Love is bruises.Love appears like a bruise, like when you misjudge the distance between yourself and the object you are trying to avoid running into but manage to anyway. Love is the bruise that

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-14513140390867347942007-07-19T03:06:00.000+12:002007-07-19T04:28:11.204+12:00untitled

i would like for you to hurt me againin every which way you canslash me scar me bleed me dryprick me bruise me make me crygo on damnit won't you trysend me back down the obsidian abysslet me partake of the painful blissslash me scar me bleed me dryprick me bruise me make me cryif i begged youwill you tryartisans of hurt my patron saints of painanoint me with your stinging balm againslash me scar

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-68480219531635699392007-07-18T04:02:00.000+12:002007-07-26T03:24:22.293+12:0012 July 2007

your knee almost brushing mineyour hand clamped firmly(but very gently) on my armyour head bent within inchesof my wristyou and i were therebut were both elsewherei watched you carve with a single pulsating needlemy wristbreaking skindrawing minscule specks of redwiping them awaywhat did it feel like?exactly as it wasthe methodical shredding of epidermisthen scraping it raw awayagain and againit

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-4823511514233814812007-07-11T23:32:00.000+12:002008-01-23T00:25:02.693+13:00cradlesong

come sit by the tidepoollet cool your burning feetthe day is done the night has comeit's now the time for sleepcome rest your sleepy headlet close your heavy eyesthe night is darkthe sky is starkbut for the fireflies come dream of wond'rous thingslet soar your wingéd mindthere's naught to fearthe moon is hereyour heart's the star that shines

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-24435786676765807152007-07-11T17:23:00.000+12:002008-01-23T00:25:23.134+13:00[sɔl]

the mass of gases that burns white hot(not fire not a great ball of fire at all)a star in orbitits closest companion 57,910 kilometers awaythe fleet-footed ψυχοπομπός (who created the Συριγξ?)it will one day consume itselftake its curtain callin the loveliest of dresses spectrum of lightit will expand and shed its layersuntil finally the curtains fall lights dimand its scorching stellar

snoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-29485601697593027662007-07-11T15:21:00.000+12:002008-01-23T00:26:03.513+13:00kill me before i die

kill me before i diekill me before i diekill me and still mewhen i take my last sighkill me before i diefill me with soil where my soul once lietill me and drill me drykill me before i diekill me and kill meand leave me to drychill me and hang me highkill me before i diewill me to cryfor this sorry lifebut kill me before i diekill me before i diekill me before i diekill me and chill meand still

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-23493087327712756312007-07-02T22:28:00.000+12:002008-01-23T00:26:38.974+13:00sē wrecca

tonight i'm a wretch, a wrecca; the Wanderer, exiled, alone, anhaga, solitary one, modcearig, must for a long time hreran mid hondum hrimcealde sæ to traverse the path of exile. Wyrd bið ful aræd!what is my wyrd?that ic sceolde ana / mine ceare cwiþan?not only in eorle, it is a noble customthat i too follow, that i should fæste bindemy ferðlocan and fiercely guard my hordcofan.

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-69751348093759227312007-07-01T00:57:00.000+12:002008-01-23T00:26:56.303+13:00seven hundred and thirty since

this is a lie: i'm not lying to youthis is not a lie: i'm lying to myselfwhat lives we live serving one godand worshipping anotherthe f-wordsfour letteredf for fourf for Fearf for Freepraying to be freespeaking in fearfearmust be why you disappear insideyour labyrinth of ambiguous lexicon & clever word-play& try to lose me with sudden twists & turnsbecause you are an open bookwhose

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-14666912996077477042007-06-08T19:10:00.000+12:002008-01-23T00:27:40.708+13:00refrain

hold on to meyour pleading refrainyour feet moving to the rhythmdon't let him touch me... touch me ... touch me ... touch mehold on to me don't let him ... just be nimblejust be quickjust dance awayfrom the pervy prickhold on to mei'm your anchorto moor your boatyour buoyant floati'll keep you afloathold on to me... to me ... to me ... to me don't let him ...

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-59554054809121980512007-06-06T19:24:00.000+12:002007-06-07T03:21:45.124+12:00Under The Table

Under the table, she is holding my hand." ... free?" Suddenly I become aware that a question is being addressed to me. I look over at Jon, who is looking expectantly at me. "I'm sorry, what did you say?" "Which planet were you on? Geez! I asked if you would be free this weekend. Mandy and I are planning to drive into J.B. for seafood. You coming?""I, er -" I hesitate, confronted with a rock and a

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-16399325918913843572007-06-02T02:18:00.000+12:002008-01-23T00:28:21.427+13:00naked instrument

i sit in the embrace of the music you are creatingwatching your fingers pluckglide and vibrate and i am naked the instrument in your arms your fingers alternating between teasing lightness and electrifying intensity

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-55612740449557812472007-06-01T04:13:00.001+12:002008-01-23T00:28:02.364+13:00What Might Or Might Not Have Happened At What Might Have Been The Midpoint Of The Corner Of The Road

These are the facts: It seemed to have happened for me after it had transpired.The thought of what might have just happened occurred to me after it was all over.What might have happened might not have happened.What might have happened might have happened only to me.This is all in retrospect. This is what might or might not have happened:Three seconds. (Five seconds, tops.)It was late in the

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-32914287198842110862007-05-31T16:44:00.000+12:002008-01-23T00:29:26.221+13:00ambergris

i didn't not know it until it's too late neveri'd knownhave always knownand knowingly let you closer in (i for love)when you dove depths in search of me (you for treasure)i believe you could slicedeeper than the depths i dwellyou of arms as strong as those fingers are gentlewielding the sicklethat shone like the moonyou promised meyou who have

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-74545835963348130932007-05-25T22:49:00.000+12:002008-01-23T00:53:02.678+13:00breakfast (of champions)

... and so nice to wake up with ripe sweet fruit between my lipsi apply gentle pressure carefulnot to burst the berry yet i wantto savor the moment the slowdelicious burn of desire anticipationfirst tasting the dew with the tipof my tongue a lazy lick

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-68671144126820418002007-05-23T03:03:00.000+12:002008-01-23T00:54:15.688+13:00Pink Elephants

Pink elephants are frolicking in my martini they are playing beach volley with my maraschino cherry! The Jiminy Cricket Jazz Trio performs in yours!Ha! I don't suppose you could rescue the butterfly trapped inmy hair ...? Could you? My hair! My hair!

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-73625830957680692432007-05-22T23:57:00.000+12:002008-01-23T00:55:03.297+13:00things in life

i had a crush before i even knew whata 'crush' wasthings in life - experienced, done - sometimes (often)before the awareness of its nameits meaning could transpiremaybe one night i'll fall asleepand realize i've been dreaming all alongmaybe one day i'll wake up and realize i'm alive after all

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-27010206405761469522007-05-21T03:01:00.000+12:002008-01-23T01:19:57.607+13:00Alone At The Table

This morning, my girlfriend sat down to breakfast with me. I made us scrambled eggs, toast, and coffee. She nursed a mug of coffee and chain-smoked. Coffee and cigarettes: with those, she never seems to be in want of anything, never seems to want anything.I ate the eggs swimming in a pool of silence and watched smoke unravel lazily in wisps from the glowing tip of her cigarette. Much like how she

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-65808739136378063232007-05-19T03:03:00.000+12:002008-01-23T01:20:51.141+13:00Thank You, Mistress

Ah, black shoe in which I have lived - no more, no more!I wear them now (these boots are gonna walk all over you) -you're gonna kiss them,lick them clean, when I say so.You will fucking blow my shoesif I say so,shoes blacker than my heartand soul.Then you'll thank me(say, Thank You, Mistress)for planting themon your ass,in your face,while you eat dirt. Say,Thank You, Mistress.And if you've been

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-30630728488307747892007-05-17T17:30:00.001+12:002008-01-23T01:21:53.636+13:00one second

if you could but reach me theni would touch you nowand what a worldof differenceit would bebut one missed second thenhas snowballed into yearsand now lay before our separate pathsthe futurewho would've known thena whole new universecreated in but one second

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-61469130437982923532007-05-17T03:10:00.000+12:002008-01-23T01:35:17.297+13:00Are You ...?

Why are you looking at me? Don't look at me this way; don't.What are you think about -how you can kick me hit merape me spit on my face then lynch me?Why are you looking at methis way?Like I'm any differentthan you.I'm flesh and blood,I hurt,I bleed red ...Maybe that's where we differ,you and I:I have a heartpumps blood red throughout my body;

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-34282598592436473232007-05-16T22:36:00.001+12:002008-01-23T01:41:09.737+13:00Cada Beijo

Cada beijo bomHummm, que saudadesDe te beijar not alonei can'tcomebite mei am ready to be bitteni think it's timeto fall in loveagain

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-42146943822244737632007-05-15T18:11:00.000+12:002008-01-23T01:41:30.474+13:00temptation

such a strugglebetween two selvesnot to enter youwhen you are so nearand opento enter youand beg for succorsolacesharp stingthat liquisce into that delicious spicyshiver

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-33574970471164578392007-05-15T08:09:00.000+12:002008-01-23T02:17:42.687+13:00you know what i mean?

as much as i dislike waking up on rainy day morningsi love waking upto rain in the morningyou know what i mean?

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-48780618535567523862007-05-14T15:11:00.000+12:002008-01-23T04:07:48.325+13:00one more time?

my skin cannot contain my selfwho is leaping out to saunter with swaying hips to youforce my right leg between your kneesbend downsmile(wink)stroke your hair caress your cheek your jaw(or more)swerve my ass aroundundulate slowly touch downon private groundstake your right armdrape it way below my navelyour hand rests on my pelvic boneyour left armfling up between my breastsyour hand on my collar

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-59748724606733997262007-05-11T18:53:00.000+12:002007-05-17T03:10:31.391+12:00untitled

blindsided - againi never ever see it comingwhy?it's okay in the showerin the shower it's just waterrunning though your hairwater running down your cheeksbut even thenyou must deal with ityou mustif any good came out of itit's this:you realize now you runnot out of fearbut from fearthe old fearsame fearchildhood fearof loud noises directed at youthe fear of being punishedthe punishment that was

snoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-41629670983123750022007-05-08T16:30:00.000+12:002008-01-23T04:08:19.581+13:00maybe i need some chocolate

Dad sends text: Just been informed of a rumor that 7women have died in Gleneagles from smelling free perfumed sachets sent to their homes. Please be careful.while I sit on the toiletin the ladies' roomcontemplating the hurt/septum. please/scarlet bracelets/the aesthetic values of a professionalscarification session vs.the more personal significance of a DIY job/whether the vanilla happiness i

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-2312547465747961522007-05-07T23:27:00.000+12:002007-05-07T23:28:49.033+12:00bruised iv: i wear your presents on my sleeve

bruises are the only true currency the common tongue writtenon the tabula rasa of our skingentle reminders of an ever-changing languageuttered by all from newborns to the dying***the dragonfly who painted meleft me nonethe man who adorned meleft me noneyou who never touched meleft me the worst one***you send me bruises when you leavei wear your presents on my sleeve*** i return to the onewho

snoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-71277023289140914062007-05-07T10:17:00.000+12:002008-01-23T04:10:23.414+13:00(iamnothereiamnothere)

i drift among the crowds a lost balloon it’s the empty shell they see (iamnothereiamnothere) the real me’s walking through Morpheus’ realm not remembering what i made up what i didn’t can they tell? they’re telling me i don’t listen i don’t believe (iamnothereiamnothere) they’re not real i made them up

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-6471850153619505872007-05-06T23:44:00.000+12:002008-01-23T04:10:46.684+13:00idon'tknowidon'tknowidon'tknow

where do they come fromthat color my skin? idon'tknowwhen did i get themthat mark my limbs? idon'tknowi'm pierced and inked(where you've not seen)i'm bruised and broken(not where you think)if you (don't) askwho or what or why you(don't)know

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-86194275262723223702007-05-06T15:22:00.000+12:002008-01-23T04:11:04.341+13:00COGITO ERGO DOLEO

thus while i mayi dreamand while i dreami sleepand when i wakeall that will be leftare dashed hope dissipating into airdried blooddissolving into sea

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-22190455642835883962007-05-05T23:41:00.000+12:002008-01-23T04:11:26.658+13:00the world exists only for us

there is a cool breeze it glissades along my armsi breathe its fragrance there are no starsbut the lemon-drop moon melts on my tongue and i feast on the cotton-candy cloudsmy promises are not emptythe universe is mine to giveanything you want will be yours(would you like to have my balloon?)tomorrowwe will remember that the world exists only for usand not that we are intoxicatedtonight

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-19871166341252037052007-05-05T18:50:00.000+12:002008-01-23T04:14:04.247+13:00Girl from Hadria

i dreamed of youdark-haired and smart and beautifulbut I woke upand forgot all about youit's for the best

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-7057458010299037912007-05-04T11:58:00.000+12:002008-01-23T00:21:49.878+13:00POPBANGBOOM!

balloon heartburst by a single prick(so many pretty balloons so little time!)when the scraps of rubber have been collectedwhen painstakingly sello-taped togetherwhen filled again with helium hope when let loosefly highhighhigher out of reachof needless painful pricks

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-9297874085647890452007-05-04T11:29:00.000+12:002008-01-23T00:20:46.780+13:00smokescreen

no words from the wise save the signalsfrom their vice

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-47897954565734347962007-04-23T02:06:00.000+12:002007-04-24T02:49:35.344+12:00Untitled

Trudging beneath the bright Cheshire grinThis dear heart - no smile to be found within

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-88728254762248878532007-04-10T23:59:00.000+12:002007-04-12T18:44:51.499+12:00Untitled

I play god to the atheists in my head,my proclamations of who is worthy and who is notfalling on deaf ears that belong to the mistresses and masters of my soulgorging themselves on the banquet of my body;I am the serf that crawls on hands and kneespicking up the gristle they spit out,though I could be high priestess or physicianto save and heal the dying and the broken -which is part

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-33578102973796148842007-03-25T03:06:00.000+12:002007-03-26T03:08:13.233+12:00me mo' so

why do you remarkon how tightly foldedi amand how i seem to droopwhen it was youwho let down a heavy blunt finger of disappointmentto touchme?24th – 25th March 2007

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-17988427749537892502007-03-12T05:03:00.000+13:002007-03-13T05:04:25.328+13:00Untitled

Where mine have been razed to the groundyou will build yours.Upon my memories, my past,up rise your present and future;upon the clean slateof my once-happiness,which had been build onanother’s,the promise of yours.So must this be lifewhere there is not spaceenough, no roomfor everybody’s happiness.

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-47700440412316753182007-03-07T01:34:00.000+13:002007-03-09T04:07:00.553+13:00Red

(a idea)Longer, more voluminous than the Amazon, the Nile, the Yangtze;more fertile than the Euphrates, the Sava, the Volga;more sacred than the Ganges, the Indus, the Jordan;more beautiful than the Danube, the Rhine, the Seine;flows the river from the delta of a woman’s thighs. 5th - 7th March 2007

snoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-72696151859992215802007-03-04T04:51:00.000+13:002007-03-09T04:07:38.700+13:00by any other name

(a idea)i thinkthere are no adjectives that can adequately describeeven a fraction of its beautynever mind exactly how exquisite it isi wish there wereso those who don’t know itwho can’t see itmight at least understand why it is so indescribably wondrous to you and mefor uswe are born into its glory with every breathbaptized by its radiancewith every heartbeatyet so much has been said of itso

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-34792115059449900472007-03-01T00:41:00.000+13:002007-03-02T00:41:53.627+13:00puzzle

in bed like a wooden puzzleevery part of us interlocked burrswe spend our mornings dismantling ourselvesyet it is never too longbefore we slowly (but surely)unconsciouslybegin to reconstructthe beautiful intricatejigsaw sculpture of oursingularity how we fit so perfectlytogetheryou and i

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-59856903914843812672007-02-28T04:32:00.000+13:002007-03-02T00:45:06.178+13:00untitled

For A_____i don’t know what it’s liketo walk on the streets unarmoredto be gouged all over by the bayonets of staresto march under blitzkriege spat from lips in stealthy hisses and plosive mutters (lesbian!) (butch!)i wonder how you’d walked thus farwith a back so straightand a head held highwhen every step is a stepon a minefield of ignorance and bigotryeven if i can’t see your wounds and

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-74430293000861946572007-02-14T00:18:00.000+13:002007-02-15T00:19:25.528+13:00valentine

to wake / up in the early hours / morning / still swathed in night / disintegrating vestiges / of dreams / already forgotten / fan whirling above / skin on bedclothes / on the right side / of bed / alone / oh so alone

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-85437631400100188872007-02-12T20:14:00.001+13:002012-01-08T20:08:33.081+13:00stealing

it is pilferagethe way we kisswhen their backs are turnedtheftthe way we pick loose changefrom Time’s pocket(always seconds and minutes never hours)to spend fuckingin toilet stallsand it is criminalto not be able to be who we arelove who we lovehonestly

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-1171034161967474022007-02-09T04:12:00.000+13:002007-02-11T00:19:09.586+13:00cornucopia

i imagine you are the cornucopiaorchard of forbidden fruits Nile of milk and honeyyour lips tongue throatred sweet and wetquench thirstyour breasts nipples bellyfull heavy and ripesate hungerthe endless sweet stream from the delta of your thighsfounds and sustains civilizationsyou are the most delectable pathto wisdomprivate paradisei will not share with anyone(Edited 10th February 2007)

snoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-1171032607977559112007-02-09T03:49:00.000+13:002007-02-10T03:50:07.993+13:00sometimes i want

sometimes i want so desperatelyi want so hard so muchi can hardly breatheas ifwhat i want is air

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-1170949262240070282007-02-08T04:39:00.000+13:002007-02-09T04:41:02.260+13:00untitled

on the upper-deck of the busright in the frontby the windscreeni can see almost everythingsuch as for example myself trundling headlonginto the busy traffic of lifeinvoluntarily

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-1170857896827350362007-02-07T03:14:00.000+13:002007-02-08T03:18:16.843+13:00traffic jam

tiny red sports carlarge gray truck: does not matterin a traffic jam

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-1170689052263543152007-02-05T04:22:00.000+13:002007-02-06T14:23:47.716+13:00i would rather

i would rather see you when i look at nothingthan to see nothing when i look at you

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-1170688299087448212007-02-05T04:09:00.000+13:002007-02-06T04:11:39.100+13:00untitled

on televisionin a matter of seconds with quick swipes of his handsthe Chinese face-changing masterchanges innumerable painted facesi wait for him to finally showhis true face he never doesin front of the mirrorslowly painstakingly with downwardstrokes of a cotton-padi wipe my unmade-up facewaiting to uncover a facei would recognize as my own 4th - 5th February 2007

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-1170572701022721672007-02-04T20:02:00.000+13:002007-02-05T17:43:44.946+13:00feast

i think sometimes i hurt so bad insidebecause i want you so badly to devour mebread fruit and honeywant to offer you in the cracked chalice of my skull the honeycomb of my brain andspread the honey thick on my sweetbreads present on the half-broken plate of my breast(or have your fingers plunged deep into my chest for) the ripe plump fruit of my beating heartlet me inflame your appetitelet me

snoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-1170567910895631232007-02-04T18:41:00.000+13:002007-02-04T18:45:10.910+13:00untitled

(My first of many more Sunday scribblings, I hope.)to feet and ankles and knees(when you finally go)to liver and lungs and kidneys(it won’t be long before you do)to joint movements(i know you’d soon follow)to sight and sound and teeth and smellto body mind and soulfarewell farewelli’ve grown oldmust bid you all farewell (and you have all indeed fared me well)when you take leave of mebut for

snoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-1170342877246806542007-02-01T04:11:00.000+13:002007-02-02T04:14:37.260+13:00i dream in the night you died

rising from my bed i go to yours and dig with my bare handstearing my nails on bone chips and glass bitsdig and dig until i bleedsix feet down to reach you fetal-curled in your earthy womband with bloody hands tear you from sleepi am there when you take your first gasp of airi listen for the startled cry that followsi am the midwif who births youthe miner who unearths youcarefully brushing dirt

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-1170115024086639692007-01-29T12:54:00.000+13:002007-01-30T22:41:15.433+13:00elemental

firei’d never wish to be like firenever wished to be fire except to match you blaze for blazeto rage on and on in the arid forestwhere we stoodnaked trees stripped of bark and leafbared arms and bodies reaching towards each otherunder the twin suns of our heartsin the invincible summer of our mindswhere our uncontrollable bush-fire would devoureverything in its path a smoldering salamander that

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-1169914796278799742007-01-27T05:13:00.000+13:002007-01-28T05:21:41.946+13:00untitled

when i retreat deep into myself sometimesi leave behind me a breadcrumb trail of hints & clues hoping someone will find it and follow after me into my innermost selfsomeone with whom i will then share the feast of my heart my mind& my soul but no one ever does

snoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-1169630704087218972007-01-24T22:23:00.000+13:002007-01-24T22:25:04.100+13:00living

if i have only one lifei know which life i’ll choosein a heartbeatif i have nine livesi’ll still choose only that oneto live nine times overand beyondand that’s the life i’ll choosebut it doesn’t choose mei don’t know if it’ll ever choose methereforei’ve still yet to live23rd - 24th January 2007

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-1169566322945555352007-01-23T22:23:00.000+13:002007-01-24T12:24:38.020+13:00Of Five-Stones and Captain Ball

They’re picking teams to play Captain Ball. I want to be on Livia’s teambut I know she won’t pick me. I’m a five-stones player,I’ve never played Captain Ball before. My friend, Alvina, she plays it all the time,she says I should give it a try.I want to, too, but I don’t dareto join them, because I’ve never played Captain Ball before -what if I’m terrible at itand my team loses because of me?What

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-1169539997626767792007-01-23T21:08:00.000+13:002007-01-28T05:30:17.983+13:00[ ]

w()rdsw()rr’dm[in]efighting to be chOsen p^cked selected usedbut(is \ˈθɘs\ a w()rd and what is \ˈɘts\ [meaning?])w()rdsare [ eaning?]less [ aning?] [ ning?]w()rds have no [ ing?] [ ng?] has now()rds [ g?] & w()rdthere isno [ ()rd]just [ ?][ ]

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-1169539712908134482007-01-23T21:06:00.000+13:002007-01-23T21:32:59.053+13:00untitled

i fear i’m strangling myselfmy thoughts translate into wordsiscribblerealize themselvesi fear i’m strangling my selfand all my other selves with everywordicontinuetoscribblei fear wordsarestranglingmein my mind buzzing angrilythe black swarm of carnivorous flieslay eggs hatch into maggotsburrow deeper and feed on my mindi fear my mind is already deadi fear wordsarestranglingmeenvelop me and

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-1169460741122827942007-01-22T23:08:00.000+13:002007-01-22T23:19:39.226+13:00words

are Scrabble tilesi turn over in my hands thumbing their cold, hard, smooth surfacesi piece them together and hope for the best does this make sense does that make sense is there such a word as this is this how you spell that word will anybody understand this or that (sometimes i wonder if i would be better off using a Ouija board or a Tarot pack)but none of these

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-1169539524453649382007-01-22T21:01:00.000+13:002007-01-23T21:05:24.466+13:00enough

what hurts moreis not that it hurtsbut that it doesn’t hurtenoughand i’m sad, miserable, and wretchedsadder, more miserable, and more wretchedbecause i’m not sad, miserable, and wretchedenoughand i’ve been given wordsi’ve been given wordsbut not wordsenoughto say exactlyhow i feel

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-1169392218403544242007-01-21T04:08:00.000+13:002007-01-22T04:10:52.756+13:00panning

i sift through the dust and dirt of my soullooking for the smallest nuggetsof something preciousthe pieces of a shattered heartthe fragments of a fractured psychethe rubble of the aftermath of falling apartthe shards and splintersthe chips and bitsthe wreckagethe debristhe trick is knowing whereand whento digto siftand resiftthe trickis to have patienceand no expectationswhatever i find whatever

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-1169390409617975372007-01-21T03:39:00.000+13:002007-01-22T03:42:28.076+13:00untitled

i put my book downjust to watch you sleepi couldn’t help itmy eyes desiredyou

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-1169130508413437162007-01-18T03:21:00.000+13:002007-01-19T03:37:04.870+13:00that girl you (never) knew

iwho was the girl you had knownthe girl you talked to talked withthe girl you thought you knewwho was that girl you had likedthat girl you had laughed withthat girl you thought you likedhad that girl changedor did you never know herdo you think you had known herI think she you had fanciedwas a different girl not me(you are not disappointed

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-1169047825470786382007-01-17T04:25:00.000+13:002007-01-18T04:30:25.486+13:00Untitled

I feel it inside me I don’t know how to describe it but I can’t help picturing it how I’m nothing but a shadow on a wall and all that can be seen is it a golden ball a firebird a bright burning hurt which can’t be controlled or contained I’m juggling struggling wrestling with it a futile fight I seem to have no right over

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-1168958506441637042007-01-16T03:39:00.000+13:002007-01-20T01:14:03.910+13:00Untitled

On the days when innumerable raindropsMust be caught in the palm of the earthShe wonders, Is one of them for me?On the nights when incalculable starsHave been caught in the duster of the skyShe hopes, One of them must be for me ...Of course, What she really wants to knowIs: Are you the one for me?

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-1168856336894127632007-01-15T23:17:00.000+13:002007-01-17T04:00:27.656+13:00Untitled

I had thought my heart was likeA multifaceted crystalThat reflects and changes colorsWith the light -It is not;It is not hard And cool to touch.I had a dream last night(could not remember what it was)And saw my heart this morning:It is no crystal - A hot churning primordial soup In which you have first scattered the germs Of emotions, of life;Out from which the first formsSlither, crawl, evolve,

snoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7954963.post-1168872778269505152007-01-15T03:52:00.000+13:002007-01-16T03:52:58.270+13:00Untitled

You are so hotYou are the SunAround which the planetOf my heartRevolves.

snoreply@blogger.com0