November 12, 2006: Maybe it's the moonlight or crisp dark leaves that makes me..

or maybe I am full of shit, caffeine, and a whole night of unresolved issues.

You drink women like cheap boxed wine,
And trust me it's never worth the hangover.
They pour fountains of that generic combination
of yeast, sugar, and water; still, it does the trick.

They love all the way down your throat until even
the trickles cease, but with a little stale cigarette smoke,
the sharp, tart flavor may linger in a stain on your shirt.

It has never been a habit, though a regular occurance,
for you to pick up a glass, or two, perhaps to spite
your last. The bitter finish never fails to disapoint.

And... when I figure out how it ends, I'll let you guys now. For now this is it.

November 8, 2005: [In progress: class]

Run your tongue along that rippled pad,
perhaps again, your thumb and index finger to match.
Slide your palm down the crease, the place when you last
put me down. Spread me wide and gaze upon me. Look longingly,
would you know my secrets? Would you know the depths of my
pages, or simply caress the vellum that you hold, now,
between your fingers. You hold the world.

Tangle your fingers in my sheets, you've got ten fingers,
You can probably mark all the good spots. Would I outrage you?
In my world, I make the rules. But I suppose you could put me
down, again, perhaps on your rigid lap as you search your brain
for answers. Don't you know they are held within my binding?
Thread as long as I, reaching through all of me to the other side,
making sure I do not fall apart at an inopportune time, say, the middle
of a chapter.

Oh yes, you will look at all of my words, take each chapter at length.
You can categorize me, make me safe enough for you. Hide me among my brethren, still mourning their lovers' touch. We are not enough for each other, though shelves we may fill. The wilting covers of those well-read, threadbare and faded, titles long ago worn away, gather dusk as you would keep us, stacked away.

November 8, 2005: Open books...

Are far more useful than those closed.
Closed books are paperweights and doorstops;
Open books are imaginations flooding pages.
I could take a closed book and sling it at your head,
but to open it up and fling it at you like a frisbee might be more fun.
The pages would flutter and ripple, the sound would dimple
the plane of tense silence. Open books make time for laughter.
The rich smell of an old book is staunched by its closing,
To open it releases its age, the textured worn pages, the
grocery store receipt left in it months ago, or perhaps a letter.
Open books have yet surprises: one can not look at all
a book's pages at once. Though cracked and creased
the binding may be, paragraphs broken by pagination
spill, and roar through chapters, water chasing broken pieces
of levies. Let me spill and roar, let me take words, paragraphs,
chapters to explain. I would be an open book, any day, rather than close my pages, so surely removing myself from the mind's eye.

May 7, 2005: Once more, with feeling

When heaven is dropped in your lap
and you say it's not perfect enough-
When you can look into eternity
and you say it's not long enough.

When you go around ranting about love,
you come off as such as nice guy.
You won't fight for the heart that loves you;
somehow, it's just not easy enough.

Promises are never without risk.
Even those written in blood can be broken.
Fear is a lonely bedfellow; it leaves
before morning. You always wake up alone.

May 7, 2005: Goddamn, caffeine is a god in an ant kingdom by the sea

This is Hope, my friends, literally. By George Frederick Watts.

There is no answer in a smile; enigmatic sayings,
no better than that fortune cookie you got
at that Thai-fusion place down the street.

And what if there were, what then?
Pray tell, should we get all the answers,
What stupid things might we do with them?
Perhaps it's better we stumble blindly.

Not so we might truly see, what, with our eyes,
remains cloaked in secret. Forget that!
But blindly, we leave certain responsibility behind
And retain the ability to shrug at fate's intrigues.

May 23, 2005

I felt it ending; it is as simple as that.
I will not fight it as I once did, not seeing
after last time what the point would be.
The pulling stays, despite my predictions
to others; nonchalantly knowing the fate
that waited what had become so important
to me. But again, the point seems to be
moving on, away, forward and past the rapids.
Getting to peace, settling down in the inbetweens.
Catching a breath before launching into a new
diatribe on life, love, philosophy, and the next
new and improved that's about to break your heart.
How forward of me, to think I know my assumptions
are right, and just above temptation, for me
not to rub it in your face. To sit quietly,
unstirred, despite my heart, and wait for the news.
Granted, not many will be surprised, seeing
more than I do, every other day. But,
they have not heard the silence the way I have.
The silk of what remains unsaid, sliding down
from your neck to the floor, unspoiled.
An avalanche of thoughts, whose impact changes things,
true, but not in a tangible way. Seen later, in hindsight
usually, with a glass of wine in front of the television
Or coffee at a dim-lighted diner, open twenty-four seven.

October 14, 2005

I think you're beautiful
In all the ways that beauty is true.
In all the ways that light hits your eyes
And I can see forever.
Beauty in the furrows of your hair
As your fingers push it back from
your face, as your breath catches after running.
In the wrinkles of your forehead as you amuse yourself
with life and all of its confusing and beautiful disasters.

January 9, 2006: Hail Sunna (unfinished)

Of that certain time of day where the sunlight steals your vision
from the east, where the cool, crisp morning air is cut by Sunna.
When it is hope that you are needing, when the ground is frozen,
and all that lies below it is trapped within winter's grave.

Just something short, trying to lengthen it.

October 25, 2005

He woos with poetry not of his own
Gleaming words from long dead men
Shining marble across a carefully tended plot

His emotions, though tender, do not fuel my heart
It stays cold and unused, preserved under glass.
A plaque remembers its once warm heat and soft pulse
at times flushing fair skin; those times long past remembering.

In stasis, in waiting, in between time, in between space
in between what once was and what now seems
Out of love but wanting, out of hope but dreaming.
Without cause, force of will; sight of shore, sight unseen.

[In progress: at lunch]

Modern Love: A Traditional Ballad [Archiving from 1999/2000]

Modern Love

Pain I feel is not mine alone;
Mine own beloved feels it too.
In past days- our love uncondoned,
Though for us now- each day is new.
No bound'ries held where love is true;
I'll not deny mine only love.
So what is left but to conclude-
Such is the way of modern love.

The wind, through trees, sings wistful songs,
Of long lost loves-ne'er forgotten.
From a window pane, my heart longs,
For my lover, my dearest friend,
But even for us, time must end.
The mourning left to turtledoves,
As I watch him, my friend, ascend.
Such is the way of modern love.

Always losing, then moving on.
My true love, one day beside me,
The next, my love is barely gone.
Though he promised he'd never leave,
His honor true- the Fates deceived.
Beloved watches from above,
And though it's hard to see him leave-
Such is the way of modern love

Beloved, I address thee dear,
But curse the notion of true love.
For it takes you from where I'm near,
Such is the way of modern love.

Note: Written in Quest English, Junior Year.

Untitled [Archiving: from September 2000]

There is beauty in the perfection of silence
And in love, truth's form remains untarnished
Unassuming currents spliced together to create
The glory of the sun, the moon, the stars
And the bliss found between two lovers-
aye, let no man stand in the way of their truth.

Birthed of the earth unto the world
Love has delievered us from all, but ourselves
Indeed, it is only man who stands to destroy Love
And only man, who seeks to destroy himself.
Such determination better left to lovers
Who in the morning find themselves restless
For the company of the moon, once more,
On her search for her faithless lover, the sun.

Across the sky, the breeze drifts and carries
Songs upon its breath. The youth that listen
follow along, dancing upon fields of heather.
Fiddles and harps criss cross within the melody
And inspire the dreams of poets:
so that this might well be read.

Unattached [Archive: from Sophomore Year 1998/1999]

Unattached

unattached
crying softly
wanting nothing
but to bask in your love
as your love is like the sun
and like all living things
I need to grow

the moonlight lies
as it says
that everything is all right
and in constant cycle
i will be reborn
but to be reborn
into a life without you
would be life scorned
by my heart

Note: Written after conversation with best guy friend re: using taoism as a shitty excuse.

Poem of Seduction [Archive: Sophomore Year 1998/1999]

Those immortal words
Often sought to cherish
Are usually found to have a price
Far too high to mention

While whispering them
In lover's ears
Entreating them
To follow you into the shadows

And in the darkness
In your room
You seduce them
With poetry
One of a long dead white man
Who thought more than he knew
About life and love
And other meaningless things

Truth in Love [Archive: Sophomore/Junior Year 1999]

Though morning's glow
Is far ahead
Beyond the horizon, Shone
Is the moon and her beauty
Entrancing lovers under her gaze.

The night is pure
And sacred
Though virginal
Only in the naive lover's cry
Mourning innocence lost in lies.

I wonder with what I am to wish
And for what design my heart desires
If true love is all that one wishes to find
And my heart has found that love too ready.

If love is true
But sly hearts lie
Then what love is there to find
If not in the heart, then in the mind?

Love is never blind
Not whilst poets dwell on it
Nor when seen through bedazzeled eyes.

Truth is not seen in virtue's light
But seen by conmens' wanton night.
And what is true about the night
When the moon waunders
throughout the sky
And stars twinkle despite
the horror seen betwixt their eyes.

So soon does the night forget
When the sun rises again
Only to be put down again at night
For the moon to rise to meet the sky.

What Once Was a Mirror [Archive: December 1998/January 1999]

Light reflects off the mirror.
It's too late to distinguish night or day
The light has faded, faded as I focused
On the image I see before me.

The face looks vaguely familiar
Like someone I met a long time ago
Once upon a dream. But the longer I stare
Focus finds a name. It is my friend;
Are you my friend- Friend, who are you now?

Neither you nor who I thought you'd be,
What would it be like to know you again?
Would I find you changed by life, love
has found you and kept you warm- and you wonder
How it is, that I cannot relate.

I wonder how I found you again.
Perhaps fate, in all it's glory, has decide to punish me again,
for said indiscretions and the happiness found there.

Everyday life (a conversation with myself) [Archive: Junior Year 1999]

You know
on a day to day basis
I don't think of you
Like you think I do

I sometimes think
'what a nice ass'
or 'damnit, why can't he love me'
then I realize it doesn't matter
'cause I'm not prepared to lose
what I've never had

now I think
'oh love, it doesn't matter
that you don't care
because my love grows ever stronger
continually waxing, forever'
but who am I to know?

maybe tomorrow I'll think
'I Hate You
For All The Pain You've Caused'
but in an instant I would know
it was all a lie

I hope, that someday
I'll be able to think
something along the lines of
'I'm happy and content, and
everything I've waited for-
for so many years-
has happily come true for me'

but then again,
maybe once I say that,
I'll be saying
'goodbye, my love'
and I don't know if I could handle that..

Ignorance [Archive: December 1998/1999]

It's almost weird how we left it
Though no more so than we have before
I spoke, you spoke, we spoke
But did we communicate?
Are you actively avoiding your promises
Or is ignorance to blame-
Oh yes, let it be so,
For blaming you- Who would dare do?
Yes, Ignorance, in it's hooded grey robe
sweeping the cities, and over the minds
of those with tenuous vows and holds
To the collective unconscious and moral underground
Thusly, and effectively, clearing your mind
Of all such knowledge that would distract you
From utter and total self-veneration
Yes, let it be so,
That you do not face your reflection
As others do
But coo into a portrait
That thou have painted of thyself
Cruel Ignorance, uncurse this man!
Let his true self be revealed to him,
So that thy friend Misery may be let loose
As the idolized image fades and-
he is left but with a cracked mirror,
clear enough to show his flaws and shortcomings
Yes, Ignorance, you have found a friend in him.

Note: Bitter much. Written after I found out a friend had been kicked out of school for selling drugs.

Unconditional Love [Archive: Junior Year 1999/2000]

my love
my beating heart within my chest
I'd willingly give
to save you pain
but what good is that heart
if it turns to stone and dies
as you seem to wish it so
my love
like the song I weave for you
my love grows within my chest
as if with child
I am blessed with this gift
of understanding
unconditional love

In Too Deep [Archive: December 1998]

Somehow I lost my grip,
And now I'm in too deep.
My feet have left the sand,
And I'm in over my head.

You're scaring me,
And I don't know where to turn.
There's no one left to hear
My cries and screams for help.

Somehow I lost my grip,
And now I'm in too deep.
My feet have left the sand,
And I'm in over my head.

I should've left,
But I stayed for you.
I thought I could change you,
Save you,
But I can't save you from yourself.

Somehow I lost my grip,
And now I'm in too deep.
My feet have left the sand,
And I'm in over my head.

I'm helpless against the war you're waging,
Against me, the world, and yourself.
You're killing the ones that love you.
You're going to kill yourself.


I want to help you,
But I'm not strong enough,
To tow us both to shore.

I want to love you
Be there for you
But you're killing me,
With every breath that you take.

Suddenly I've lost my grip,
And now I'm in too deep.

Note: Written on a school bus the day I found out my friend had been kicked out of school. I remember it quite vividly because it was the day of a pep rally & we got out 15 minutes early. There was quite a bit of time waiting for the bus to leave.

Phoenix Rising [Archive: Spring 1999]

your voice is filled with static
static hear and static there
your speech is always muddled
the truth is filled with lies

as I lie, dead quiet in my bed
I wonder where you are
where you and your love dove are
but I cringe when the image comes

somehow sleep claims my night
conquering your image by zero sum
but you and the dawn come hand in hand
and the safety of night is gone

your love was always a mystery
where oh where would it show up next
never in my hand, though it seemed
at times, within my grasp

so when I see her with your heart
I hope she treats it gently, for
yours is a dove of morning, not
like mine of mourning.

the day goes on, time
seldom one for waiting
the years past quickly, though
forthcoming hours seem longer.

the time of us is over,
the story has found an end,
but with its end, the phoenix
rises from its grave again.

Untitled [Archive: May 2000]

And my heart beats once again!
Stirrings lost among the grey
All feelings kept locked soft away!
In all the world hath a body felt like this?
Breath upon breath upon words doth stutter
Beat upon beat doth my heart feel asunder!
In love, my heart doth becomes my eyes!
Beautiful love, let me gaze upon you forever
Timeless love, how love doth blind my eyes!
By and by doth spring surrender to the summer!
How now doth my love grow more?
When in all the world no love's as great!
Love now and then until forever ends!
My love finds my heart immortal
Bearings of earth find themselves eternal!
The sky doth grey and clouds impede my sight!
The night doth brings nature's life in tune,
By all the stars, light's brought to nature's love!
And my heart beats once again!

My Selfish Desire [Archive: Fall 2000]

I want to be loved.

I want to be held.

I want to feel safe,
In the arms of love.

Leave passion alone,
I have no need of it.

I want you forever beside me.

I want your words to come true.

I want you to mean what you say,
always, and betray me never.

I want to know that what I feel
Is justified, and not just a
joyous abandonment of reality.

I want to know the thoughts inside your head.
I don't want those thoughts to wound me.

I want to sigh because I am satisfied,
and not the other way around.

I want to look at you,
and know you know
how I really feel.

I want to see my future in your eyes;
I want you to see yours in mine.

I want to see your children grow,
And know that our love created them.
I want to see your hair turn gray,
so I can tell you it doesn't matter.

I want to look into your eyes,
one last time- forever.

I want to watch you grieve,
And watch you recover.

I want to watch you
Watch our children,
and remember how we used to be.

I want to wait for you
To join me- so that we might spend
Eternity together.