Meet the Pseudo-Named Characters:
Amata♥♥♥:Desiring Amata
"I'll let her squirm before I take my drink."
Amata's Wish
Waking Amata
Amata, Noshi, Galilah
Grass Blade Affair
Amata is a Dyke
Taking Amata Someplace
Galilah♥:
Galilah's Wish
Amata, Noshi, Galilah
Galilah's Catalyst
Noshi♥:
He's Inside of Me
Amata, Noshi, Galilah
Olivia♥:
Olivia Comforts Me
Scarlett♥:
Overlooking Scarlett
Scarlett's
My Scarlett
Constance♥:
Constance Remains
Constance Slows
Urika♥:
Urika, hear me now.
Weblog
Saturday, 21 November 2009
-
i miss you, carolyn.
I've had to convince myself you're coming home--
that this constant ache's not a sign that i'm alone.
You let me go so easily, and I stood breaking down
in front of you, begging you, to "write me daily."
There's nobody who understands what it's like to
miss you. To fall asleep and wake up in the night to
miss you. It's like a constant chore, but I can't not
miss you.
I'm glad at least you've been loved
deeply, into the core by me.
It was painful to know that anybody
had looked at you and left you
the way that one boy did.
You're so beautiful, I swear you are
and I want just to hear you say it
like I say it all the time, each time I
miss you.
Friday, 20 November 2009
-
Tarzan
tell me what your tongue tastes like
my young and innocent friend
your words are full of such
vitality; they scare the living
life right out of me.
so you tell me what you're wearing
and i picture it as it pictures me
a photographer's dream;
a pornographer's dream.
you are dangling -- feet above your [head]
a forest of curious animals below your [shoulders]
while I bow down on my [knees]
to untie you from the booby trap [and]
you complain can't feel your [toes]
I can't tell you I'm sorry
you got caught up in that mess.
If you hadn't been a damsel
we'd likely never've met.
Tuesday, 17 November 2009
-
William
it's a epoch situation
a blooding degradation
of two.
simple as a murder
quick and lacking order
finding all that was true
only after killing you.
I see that seasons change
in the same way people do
that is, like puzzle pieces
routinely and cleanly
recalling nothing.
I guessed that my guest
was not only a foul tasting fowl
but a galloping beheaded horse.
if it's a promise he was looking for
I can promise you i'm not his girl.
Saturday, 24 October 2009
-
Craving Amata
"Follow your heart"
I whispered to her
though I knew she couldn't hear
"You can do it"
I promised myself
though the pain was so intense.
It comes and goes like shivers
on a cold and frosted day
when the deep blue sky
is stretching over the
white-cloaked world.
There's nothing
that mimics the beauty
I've found in my lady
No butterfly or mocking-snake
dare try to mimic and take
her mysterious allure.
I take her soft shoulders
against my chest sometimes
lose my breath down her chest
and tremble with such desire
to ravage her skin like a
starving animal.
Tuesday, 20 October 2009
-
the end of amata.
i wonder if empty has always
felt like an ocean of water
still, lacking a single wave?
have i always had the ability to
(one day, when the quarter had
fallen, heads up, not guessed)
be sullen-faced and broken-tongued?
am I like a million caterpillars
struggling up a deep green bush
retiring from life to gamble for more?
i'd ask Amata like I always have
she's always held my hand from
stove tops, and other bad ideas
but she was a foster-lover and
as such, counted her days till
she could cash them
in for an exchange.
there's no morals and no stories
no happy ending no surprises
no smiles and no meaning
if you can stop one thing--
--stop fucking dreaming.
Wednesday, 14 October 2009
-
oh you silly cigar-sucker, you.
cheez-it's make difficult
that which was before done
with such ease and punctuation
simple tap tap taps become
crunch crunch taps
errors.
gay girls line my bed like
ants who follow blindly
the scents of those
who trailed
before.
straight boys try to delegate the
cells inside their bodies
to procreate, to calibrate
into ancestral ego's;
into manhood.
it's an interesting tango
seen only by the few
who can uncloak their eyes
of traditional compromise.
the men pretend to humor
the lesbians whom say
that nice as it may seem
they'd never go that way.
secretly they mistake
hopes for facts and see
only girls playing a silly
hard-to-get game
these girls clearly desire
like a baby flame of fire
a breath of air, truth
through a series of
[caresses
by] [wo]men.
Monday, 12 October 2009
-
Copy and Paste
The grass is climbing
against all timing
that I could observe
or study
or see through the muddy
situations so "bloody"
my English friends would so jest. (hahahahaha so jest=suggest. hahahahaha fucking awesome)
Repetition in three's and fours
making art into dismal chores
of counting syllables, and the
length of lines, like shores
that tease the bare footed
and sexed teens out past
curfew.curfew.curfew.
It's a trend that we follow
and the dignity we swallow
for fear of standing out alone
for fear of breaking stride alone
for fear of anything, alone.
the grass that I mention is not
in anyways to ever be caught
in uniform shape, color or
towering triumphantly
from the decomposed
(too many yesterdays)
So my young friends please continue
down the carbon-copy venue
where a million small minds subscribe
and copy and paste with such allegiance
I swear I've seen their flag before...
Wednesday, 30 September 2009
-
carolyn
she found my soul
and threw it away
not recycled, not
worth dimes.
i went searching, by the night
to find the land fill with
my essence, lost quintessence.
but old men and women
and a few heathen children
were searching the same plots.
i found myself a fledgling --
quickly discouraged.
but then, like the god's could [be] hear
a graceful hand brought warmth to mine
and a million worlds wrapped into one
girl, with broken smile, looking
to me.
but why would she look to me?
i'm empty as a worker bee
who's lost inside a home
too many eyes to see.
what is there to find
when all the land of the world
has had flags mounted, deaths counted
just to engulf and decompose it's owners?
when she's a million first breaths
a million warm winter blankets
why is she lost with me?
lol i'll finish this later
Monday, 21 September 2009
-
Not you
you can have a sense of fervor
(the kind that produces products
limited only by it's reactants)
about anything in this world.
have it about the children
who trust such broken people
to make them into stupendous
exceptions to the common rule:
students learn half of what they're taught
students teach half of what they learn
have it about the peace in nature
as it sits awaiting death
by human hands
that it gave
life.
have it about anything you want
pick it before you unveil my eyes.
let it be truthful. let my eyes stain
with drops of pain that mimic rain.
all jargon aside, simplicity made
"not you" is all I'd hear you say.
Friday, 18 September 2009
-
I'm just pulling strings.
I play you like it's an art
singing right into your ear
like humming birds swarming
fighting with their brothers
motives growing for
food.
You'd think I'd learn some morals
lines that I shouldn't cross
words that I should keep so
when the darkness falls and
asleep have gone the people
I can find my way back
home.
But people are as blank as paper
(cellulose bleached and pressed
until everything that it was
is the skeleton of what's left.)
I think it's fun to fold them
into paper planes that fly
away.
You couldn't know me if you tried
I'm cryptic like a heartbreak
you never saw coming.
Wednesday, 16 September 2009
-
you're worthless, and you're worthless.
it's funny, isn't it?
how you found yourself
amongst my shelf and
the book I wouldn't pick?
eclecticism at it's finest.
moments passed when my mind fell
empty like your skull,your destiny
nourishing your e-go by not lettiiin-go.
people have seen me and that bookshelf
like my thoughts were on display
engulfing anybody who dared to look
at my costumes of hate and dread
sinking into my every sunken cavity
encapsulating my terror.
did you really think you found a home?
in a mind that's not your own?
even a slice of ham would be better placed.
Wednesday, 02 September 2009
-
meant to be sang. sorta fast, too.
you said
'tell me tell me tell me
tell me tell me how you wound up dead'
'how you wound up
oh how you wound up dead?'
i just lost my head
chasing dread
with some lead
i thought i heard you cry
i think i heard,
i think i heard me cry.
you said 'i thought I knew your soul
but there you go
and i've been chasing,
chasing the wrong goals.'
you couldn't see me
as i walked on out the door
you couldn't catch me
before my body hit the floor
but hold me more.
just hold me, more.
Thursday, 27 August 2009
-
i have a headache and can't finish this.
I seem to cut with swords
that shiver inside your belly
afraid you're made of stone
afraid that they've forgotten
how to make one thing two.
You say my hands are ambiguous
untying what the other has tied
but my dubious hands are certain
that one more foul will fix the tie.
Wednesday, 26 August 2009
-
you're going to want to leave soon.
why's the sun always
exploding with desire?
is it going higher?
where's it going now?
*chilling whisper*
you're. going. to want to leave. soon.
you're gonna break me. soon.
i'm going to take you higher?
where am I going now?
it's a ludicrous life
we're just here to kick you
down your dusty path.
sun shine on fingertips
ready to be smeared
"please paint me as the
Golden God, caricaturist"
we're just trying to throw
you against a wall
finding out if you're of glass
or if you're a bouncy-ball.
Saturday, 22 August 2009
-
fuck my life.
I'd never let you down.
I'd never break my word.
I'd keep you where you are.
I'll get to the bases
of diamonds you traced
when you were playing ball
(with me as your bat.)
I'd pick you from the ground
and plant you in a field
where sunflowers try together
to bloom as nice as you.
I'd kiss you when you screamed
and punched the air at me
I'd hold you till your hate
lost it's will to breathe.
It's true that I'd do these things
if I could micromanage
me.
love's just aw(e)ful.
Thursday, 20 August 2009
-
Talk to water. (Song)
Tell the ocean it's not made for you
all it's waves mean nothing as you're passing by
Tell the ocean it's not made for you
Tell the ocean. (Oh, I beg you.) Try, try, try.
Words and birds and baby turtles try, try, try
finding all their truths as they lay down to die
it's only sick and twisted if you hold on too tight
keeping their spirits from taking The Flight
"Stop braiding your hair with my kisses,"
says the morning sun
"I've got places to go."
"Come, follow me" says a rainbow
two states away
(something tells you that pill
might have been laced)
Tell the ocean it's not made for you
all it's waves mean nothing as you're passing by
Tell the ocean it's not made for you
Tell the ocean. (Oh, I beg you.) Try, try, try.
"We can walk on water
if you're feeling blasphemous"
(why are you listening to mosquitos?)
"you could lay down on a cross
and i'll play the soldier"
(he's just looking for a meal.)
"I think you've got a deal(er)"
"I love to be the deal(er)"
God this life is so silly
when you're seeing two's
freaking out 'cuz your shadow's
been chasing you.
Tell the ocean it's not made for you
all it's waves mean nothing as you're passing by
Tell the ocean it's not made for you
Tell the ocean. (Oh, I beg you.) Try, try, try.
Wednesday, 22 July 2009
-
carefully letting go.
it's dark and cold
wherever you are
and nothing I say
will take that away.
all of us work in harmony
like pieces of a clock
the hand tries to stop
it's ticks and tocks
but finds out it's fate
is to change the date.
Sometimes you can't hold on
not because you don't want to
but because you're not supposed to.
am I to hold you back
from being happy?
I can't remember your laughter
I can't remember your smile.
it's so easy to question
how forever became so short
and the easy questions
warrant easy answers
"carefully."
Thursday, 16 July 2009
Wednesday, 15 July 2009
-
Photo Album
New pics posted to my photos. Of the epic reading of one of nogray's poem.................
but my brother got butthurt and washed his stuff off after all my hard work because he was a douchebag and didn't want to let me use his toy guitar. because he said "it'll look weird"...since he OBVIOUSLY didn't already look weird AT ALL.
idiot.
Anyways, check 'em out~ they're uploading!
Tuesday, 14 July 2009
-
smarties
these words will lack any season
that I probably should sprinkle
through useless adjectives.
the entire world is just the same
through every minute that
passes probing
the hand of the next
paper person.
there's always the occasional person
who's spent too many minutes reading
and even more minutes memorizing
words to paint their intellect.
you want, for all that is good and holy,
to shove some spirit into their vacant eyes.
a million words can describe any idea
but if that idea you can't create,
you're not fooling anybody.
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