Okay

the sun one day
will fade away
the moon's
already on its way
but i have got you
here with me
so that's okay

as darkness spreads
across the sky
and living things
lie down to die
i'll keep you here
right by my side
so that's okay

the tears in my eyes
carry us away
the blood in my heart
will feed us for days
i'll hold you so tight
while evil things play
and that's okay
that's okay

[soaring violin solo]

the tears in my eyes
carry us away
the blood in my heart
will feed us for days
i'll hold you so tight
while evil things play
and that's okay
that's okay

was supposed to

who have i hented this life from?
surely it was not meant for me.
i was supposed to be traveling the world
and writing novels
and money was supposed to be irrelevent
at the same time it was to be in ready supply.
instead i struggle to connect the ends
instead i work on a sponge i must wring joy from
(when i dreamed of a place where joy overflowed its cup)
what choice do i have but to follow the path
though i realize i can create a fork with some work
i dare not step off the path into the brush
for i have too many responsibilities
and too many ropes tying me to the ground
i will wring the joy out of work
and soak in the joy of play
until that day when play and work are one.

Rebirth

pleasure trumps pain
but pain lets me know i'm still alive.
dulling a blade
only makes it harder to use.
twenty smiles blend into one over time
but i still feel every stab.
Slice me open
and let me live again.

living tangentially

i have the wind to spruik
but do my words hold meaning?
i often become lost in my own embellishments,
never coming to the X on the map.
do i live tangentially,
never fated to collide with my point?
i float in a universe of stars
eluding their gravitational pulls.
it's a peaceful life
but what good does it serve?
an astronaut's birthplace becomes irrelevant
when home is light years away.
do i need to reconnect with myself
to disconnect from myself?
or would a step backwards lead to a pit?
surely i cannot stand still
or if i do i will green as a sloth.
i like green but not that kind.

i already am

i want to reach out
but can't
if i plan to make the point
i set out to make.
i can't let you control me
by growing dependent
on your approval
but my thoughts prove
i already am.

one day,
too soon,
i will cave
and invite you back
into my caverns.
spelunking is a funny word
but magnetism is only science
and physics are only funny
if your glasses are thicker than mine.

who is this girl
...trying to explain chemicals,
...trying to deny pheremones' pull,
...trying to be something other than
the positive to your negative?
why deny the undeniable?
pushing what pulls you only keeps you still
pull me close and push against my walls
until they tumble down.

Happier as Ones

my parents didn't trust him
because i met him online
and perhaps i shouldn't have either
but that is looking back...
and looking forward to our potential future
there was no room for fear,
no time to hold back

so he took me from the safety of my home
to a pool hall (of all places)
a dark haven for dark things.
the setting should have been my first clue --
but i was seventeen and hadn't yet tasted the world,
so its shadows intrigued me
and our flirtation kept me from thinking too hard

i can't remember where we went from there --
a movie theater?
a room underground
where sunlight couldn't penetrate the walls? --
but the next few years tried to steal my light
(and almost succeeded).
but he wasn't for me.

i was bitter when things ended,
blamed him for changing me
and for refusing to change himself.
but i see now we both behaved badly,
cursing one another
for being too different.
two different: we're happier as ones.

Byron

He thought that a paper crane would probably be a nice gift, if just because he could fake some deep feeling and make an experience out of the gift giving. "The crane is significant because..." he would explain, the words elevating his reputation with the recipient. The return on investment was dazzling: a mere three-dollars-worth of origami paper and about ten minutes of executing Googled folding instructions and voila!

Fake affection if you really feel it's a good idea.

fortress of excuses

excuses pile upon
e x c u s e s
as the days fly by,
as i fritter the moments away.
the garbage man comes
but i'm not ready to part with
all my excuses --
come back another day!

the walls i build make me feel
safe and secure.
a delusion, i know,
but i can't accept myself for who i am
so i lean on the external world
to define my self-worth.
why can't i bring myself to remove
this mask of weakness
when i see its outline clearly in the mirror?
why am i content to settle for easy
when a little work would change my world?

Chase the Mystery

It's Haiku Hump Day!

learn to cherish life's
beautiful fragility.
beautiful, too: death.

*

embrace the unknown,
respect the unknowable,
chase the mystery.

*

obsess not over
a temporal permanence.
live life and accept.

*

live in the moment,
do not fear tomorrow's ire,
cherish yesterday.

graverobber

sometimes
you get me.
you get me like nobody else.
ferreting out secrets and impulses
i've hidden even from myself.

you'll dig up a skeleton one of these days
something i buried lifetimes ago
before i'd learned
just how long the dead go on living.

but how long will it take you
to recognize those bones
as your own?

will tomorrow be our last day of lies
or our first day of truth?

life or death: you decide.

path to sanity

i am a ventose ventriloquist at times:
i blow wind through others' tracheas
and move their mouths like muppets.
my imagination served me well in childhood
but these days it's just as likely to betray me.
obviously there are other gears in motion
though i'm not sure if mental illness
or hormonal disturbance is to blame.
i suppose the pills for one cause the other --
so who's to say which side of the bridge i began on?
there are so many planks missing between the banks
that a photographer from a higher altitude
might develop an advertisement for a dentist
(the "before" picture, of course) .
who's to say how i got here?
but i'm here now and i've got to
find another path to sanity
since neither side of this bridge lands there.

Tickish-Tockish

who has time to consider
     collateral damage when
  the catastrophe's already
             unfolding?

... Who has time to think on
   future & consequence
when present circumstance is
so much more compelling?

It's Time

It's time to stop
interpreting silence.
Magnifying nothingness
to find imagined significance
gets us nowhere.

It's time to stop
chasing every echo.
What lived here yesterday
left a residue to scrub away.
Scrub it away

Alex

She'd built up this idealized expectation, this idea that dramatic moments in life grew into the same opuses that they did in films. So it is regrettable, then, that her attempt to create a poignant visual "moment" fell flat without the requisite filmmaker's entourage. Sally's scene, as it were (within her head), saw her taking up scissors in a shaky hand and taking bold strokes with the least possible boldness. Her hand wavered and carefully cut her hair -- its color unimportant -- at the same length, best she could tell.

the allure of chaos

I want you.
Not just in spite of,
but because of
the chaos you promise.
you're a hurricane i follow
for the chance to stand
in your calm eye.