Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Revision #6: Blue Slate

With the day dawning nostalgia awoke
Heavy like my heart, the rain flowed
The grass dressed in damage of yesterday’s feet,
Hid the thickening mud below it
But the sounds of moist earth tattled
And my two dirtied boots knew

The swings ahead were as rusty as my memory
Whispering  to my hands to touch the old steel
I no longer cared that the seat was wet
No longer cared for my tangible body

Moving like a pendulum
My mind replayed the past as if a damaged film
Disturbing the audience with unanswered questions
Missing scenes

A pang of desperation hit me
As I realized the start of the reel could never be found
Just as its end would never be discovered

That morning,
Washed ashore on unfamiliar playground,
A stray child greeted the dreary sun.

Thursday, December 2, 2010

Revision #5: Blue Slate

With the day dawning nostalgia rose
Towards the gravity in my heart, rain flowed
The grass, young like the crushing feet

Hid the thickening mud
But the sounds of moist earth tattled
And my two dirtied boots knew

The swings ahead were as rusty as my memory
Whispering  to my hands to touch the old steel
I no longer cared that the seat was wet
No longer cared for my tangible body

Moving like a pendulum
My mind replayed the past as if a damaged film
Disturbing the audience with unanswered questions
Missing scenes

A pang of desperation hit me
As I realized the start of the reel could never be found
Just as its end would never be discovered

That morning,
Washed ashore at an unfamiliar playground,
A stray child greeted the dreary sun.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Offshore

Your skin shaded in navy,
You were a starless sky hovering above me,
You were a moonless night,
With eyes too dark to reflect the ocean which stirred beneath you:
A passive tide.


I swallowed your breath
But something so empty could not make me feel whole.
Your tongue left me thirsty
Your hands left me cold.

Something so empty,
Could not make me feel whole.

-wk 10

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Repeat: A Lonesome Understanding

My blood spills faster than vomit
I think I might've lost control
But the gravity from within my chest,
I can finally feel it rising
Intertwining with thin ribbons of smoke


Happiness lurks inside my destruction
I can feel her though she's yards away
But the way that she moves is so very subtle
And her breath, lighter than a life's last air expired
I sit here in fear knowing I won't catch her hand

-wk9

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Brisk Evening

Leaves falling like snow
Smoke rises to meet them
Goodbyes are exchanged before hellos
As she falters before reaching.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Revision #3: Blue Slate

New day dawned and nostalgia awoke
Rain flowed with the heaviness of my heart
The grass, young like the feet by which she's crushed, hid the thickening mud below her
But the sounds of moist earth tattled
And my two dirtied boots knew better

The swings ahead were as rusty as my memory
Yet my hands fondly reached towards the old steel
I no longer cared that the seat was wet
No longer cared for my tangible body

Moving like a pendulum
My mind replayed the past as if a damaged film
It disturbed the audience with unanswered questions, with missing scenes

A pang of desperation hit me
As I realized the start of the reel could never be found
Just as its end would never be discovered

That morning,
Washed ashore at an unfamiliar playground,
A stray child greeted the dreary sun.

-wk 7

Monday, October 18, 2010

Ghost in the Wine Bottle

Tongues numbed by the sweet lick of wine
My memories begin to materialize
Confused by what is real and what is not
I do not mind your touch, your embrace from behind
Your face remains hidden but I know that it’s you
Your hollow arms didn’t keep the surprise true
Soft curly hair tickling the left side of my face
A tear escapes, if only I had memorized your scent.
The gentleman beside me does not see it that you’re there
He asks me to dance, thinks I’m crying over neglect
I’d hate you to leave me so I just sit very still
In my dear memories of you I wish to live
I take another sip and close my moistened eyes
Stabilizing the dream of your visit, forgetting the point of your demise
Making more powerful your hold on me
Your love stronger, your kiss becoming the motionless wind

(Or is it I who loves you more now,
Is it my hold that’s more powerful on you..)

Though I know it’s a dream, a sad dream, I know
I bask in your presence and thank wine for bringing back you

-wk 6

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Revision #2: Blue Slate

New day dawned and nostalgia awoke
Rain flowed with the heaviness of my heart
The grass, adolescent like its visitors, concealed the mud I walked on
Her prank revealed with every squish

The swings ahead were as rusty as my memory
But my hands fondly grasped the scented steel
I no longer cared that the seat was wet
No longer cared for my body’s existence

Moving like a pendulum
My mind tried to replay itself, but it was a damaged film
It disturbed the audience with unanswered questions, with its missing scenes

A pang of desperation hit me
As I realized the start of the reel could never be found
Just as its end would never be discovered

That morning,
Washed ashore at an unfamiliar playground,
A stray child greeted the dreary sun.

-wk 5

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Ingested Hook

We ate fruit from the tree your soul nourished
We relied on your tears as our source of water
We bred in your warmth, shed skin in your veins
We were only here to feed, but you called us by our names.
They should have warned you to swim towards the depth
There, sad men dwell, but parasites can't be kept

-wk 4

Thursday, September 30, 2010

Amber Comes, Amethyst Goes

Dark mountains dressed for a funeral
They found solace in being embraced by snow
Two quiet spectators watching nightfall
The moon outshines her reflection below

There's always something meaningful
In the warm touch of a man so cold.


Open windows let the rain in
Closed curtains soak up their fall
Lovers tightly clinging in silence
They dread the sun's morning call

There's always something meaningful
In old secrets left untold.

-wk 3

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Revision #1: Blue Slate

New day dawned and nostalgia awoke
Rain harmonized with the heaviness of my heart
The grass, wicked like its visitors, concealed the mud I walked on
Her lie betrayed by every squish

The swings ahead were as rusty as my memory
But the scent of steel fondly grasped my hands
I no longer cared that the seat was wet
No longer felt my body’s existence

Moving like a pendulum
My life replayed like a damaged film
It disturbed the audience with unanswered questions, with all of its missing scenes
Realization nurtured desperation:
The beginning of the reel could never be found
Nor would its end be discovered

That morning,
Washed ashore at an unfamiliar playground,
A stray explorer greeted the dreary sun.

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Achromatic

He puts us in a box that we can't get out from
Frames us anyway that he likes
With every picture developed, realization draws closer
And our chances to escape become more and more narrow

Our world is his and he can mend it as he wants to
He willfully ignores the laws we set up on our own
He steps on all our prized possessions, knowing that they are needed
Far more than he is loved

But with a smile dressed in hope and eyes sparkling with naivety,
He tells us to cheese
And we laugh, making faces
Only to years later, envy the bird that got away.

Sunday, September 19, 2010

Blue Slate

New day dawned and nostalgia awoke
Rain synchronized with the heaviness of my heart
The grass, playful like its visitors, concealed the mud I walked on
Her trick revealed with every squish

The swings ahead were as rusty as my memory
But the scent of steel fondly grasped my hands
I no longer cared that the seat was wet
No longer felt the concrete of body

Moving like a pendulum
My life was a damaged film for my mind to replay
Disturbing the audience with each unanswered question, with every missing scene
Desperation was nurtured, and I knew I wouldn't find the beginning of the roll
Just as I could never find the end of it

That morning,
Washed ashore at an unfamiliar playground,
I greeted the dreary sun feeling like a stray explorer.


-wk 1: exercise 1