March 2011
28 posts
3 tags
Where does the night go?
Where does the night go? Is it our most unfaithful lover? It is never there in the morning no matter how much we wish it was. I go to sleep with my window open and the night in my bed and don’t even wake when it makes its escape. Where does the night guy? I rely too deeply on its shadow to cloak the things I do. I won’t crack this bottle of wine open during the day. I still feel...
February 2011
33 posts
4 tags
In absence
In absence of love I recite poetry to the night security guards in our library They are kind enough and nod their heads but I can’t help but to wonder at what they wonder is going on in my mind And if they ever happen to ask I have an answer prepared for them It is love, simply enough But not simple at all Because love without someone to give it too can be too much Too much for late night...
5 tags
They can't stop me
No matter how high the put the books I will continue to reach them. I will carry them down with care to the circulation desk and check them out. They will lay with me in my bed in the dim of the night. The mood will be set. My lamp will be the only light on and I will spread their pages wide so that I may take it all in it. They would not have these romances begin but I would not have them...
3 tags
Who are we?
I would call us stargazers because we spend so much time in the night but we never find ourselves with our heads raised. We are constantly looking down at our drinks praying to the spirits in the bottom of bottles. We are get tipsy enough to have courage to say the things we wanted to say. We get tipsy enough to have the courage to dance the way we never dance. We aren’t afraid of being...
What I want most out of a woman is someone who inspires me to speak as poetically as I write.
Ask/Tell me something? →
4 tags
He leaves at 3:30 am
If I stayed up late Or woke up early enough I could hear my father get ready for work First I head the tinging alarm clock he wound the night before Then the sound of the shower pelting his skin I wondered did it pool in his gaps, his scars Wounds left from long ago battles Dressed, I would hear his heavy steps come down the hall I always knew the black of my father’s step He took his coffee...
4 tags
All is Wild, All is silent
All is wild, all is silent Yet I hear the growl of cars hunting in the night Heading off to stalk their favorite watering holes All is wild, all is Silent Maybe its because it’s not yet warm enough for cricket orchestras Or bullfrog Elvises to bless us with their songs Summer dresses are out of season You wouldn’t wear them anyway There is never any special occasions All is wild, all...
4 tags
black boy
am I black enough for you and all of my black brothers and sisters I don’t speak your language or at least you tell me I sound like a white man I never knew colors to speak any sort of way this about sound and the way I echo my mother and fathers who spoke with no dialect or broken tongue only with love and encouragement for their small black boy for their only son that wanted to be brave...
4 tags
Love isn't
It isn’t like a new day or spring flowers it was like the eight spiders you swallow in a lifetime Inside you before you know it It was like the cockroaches in your kitchen Apparent in the night, crawling from their secret home Signaling it is time, to clean your house It is like the sudden fly on your hand Swatted away on reflex You can chase after it But it won’t land again Unless you...
4 tags
The bodies in the backyard
Black coffee skin with no cream or milk She look at me at me like she knew me Maybe she did Did she grow up next my parent’s house Peering over picket fences trying to peek at me And perhaps she saw all the bodies in the backyard I never was able to bury them well These corpses of my former selves I used to dream bigger than I do Now I only want her to accept me as I am I’ll wrap my...
Happy Birthday to me.
My fiction half feels starved for attention
I am taking Intermediate Poetry Writing this semester with an incredible teacher so I have really been focusing on that a lot as far as writing goes but sometimes I feel the tug at my soul to sit down and tell a story. Nothing compares with dreaming up characters, towns, situations, families, and back stories. For me poetry is like ducking into an empty room at a party with a girl you just met. ...
3 tags
At my best I am a cacophony of thoughts. My mind is a million choirs singing different songs, praising the chaos of he universe. There is no order. Just a million different patters contradiction each other all the time. How are we supposed to know anything? We don’t know anything but the sun rises in the east and sets in the west. We don’t know anything but water is wet, or that...
3 tags
You can find love in the computer lab
She had blue nails like she clawed at the sky when she was falling down from heaven, trying to preserve her place. Or maybe she was cast out like the morning star because I can see the devil in her eyes. He is burning the future poems and love letters I would have written her. Her hair black like night hanging low, twirling like a thousand serpent march. She smelled like cocoa butter and I...
3 tags
Sometimes I think I will only be happy with a stiff drink, good music, a stack of books, and a paper and pen. And if that is all I have in life that is all I will have. I will write about the great romances I have with the woman that walk past me. I will talk about the way they walk. They way they look at me. The way they don’t look at me. Women have a way of looking past you that is...
4 tags
If I were to sketch you it would come out bad Your limbs would be too long Your head would have a dent in it Your ears would be too small Your eyes too large I’m not artist I’ve never been good with my hands It has always been enough to hold a pen and paper So if I can’t draw you like I see you it is still good enough for me I love you because I guess I don’t quite love you...
3 tags
I asked her did she miss me like I miss her. She asked me how could she miss me when she never knew me and that I never knew her. That all we were to each other were papercut outs with the details we wanted each other to have scribbled hastily on the back. That way when walked away from each other we would know what to miss. I didn’t want to believe her but then I realized the reason I...
4 tags
I love you, women
I love the women that make you want to be better. The ones who make you pause over your words and think about what you said. The ones who loosen your mind so much you don’t really have to think about you said and when you look back you realize just talking to her made you brilliant. You are suddenly a philosopher. You suddenly know all the secrets of the world. I love the ones you can...
4 tags
I don't want anything
Not tonight. I’m going to be better but not tonight. I need a little more time to feel sorry for myself. I need a little more time to hate myself. See this isn’t happiness or even being content it is just a little easier to not try than it is to fail. That is my story and I hope you read it well. I am the guy who is best at lying to myself and telling myself I never wanted...
I am not sure why I bother speaking. I am much more eloquent when I write what I want to say down.
Last night I went to bed reading a book of poetry and dreamt poetry all night and woke up without remembering anything at all.
It is amazing how afraid I am of all the poetry I keep locked up in my head.
3 tags
It turns out filling your brain with poetry is not the best way to fall asleep. Now I got another man’s words in my head and I can’t be sure if they are good for me, or good for you, or good for anyone at all. And maybe I will have the courage to write them one day, these borrowed words that don’t quite feel like my own. I took them from a man who has a twin who is a poet like...
3 tags
rambling
Perhaps I shouldn’t have been watching while they played their game of tug of war of will but I couldn’t take my eyes off of them, She was strong in her excess, drunk off the holy spirits determined that she was still able to drive while he was set in his ways fighting off his own drunkiness to be the rational one. It isn’t it a shame he had to give up on being drunk tonight? ...
4 tags
Frat Boy
He said, “I’m not fratastic and you’re not my slam piece I wanted to believe hi but when I put my hand on his heart I only felt his fraternity’s initials stitched into a poly cotton blend He didn’t kiss like a frat boy or at least how I imagined they would There was no overeager tongue or lips pressed to hard in hopes to prove he was a man He told me he wanted to...
4 tags
When we are restless we rest less. We are born into this world anxious and desperate for our legs to move. If it weren’t for them perhaps we could sit still happy on the couches of our lives. Not on love seats though. We can never be happy on love seats. We are always looking for the greener grass on the other side. Hoping that something better comes along.
Still
You cannot clean your apartment laying on your back, shirtless on a bed you’ve neglected to put sheets on There is only what you can reach Your arms are as short as winter days so forget the other room Forget the fast food wrappers Forget the stained glass, dried pools of wine aging with purple grace You can reach the new book of poetry that came in the mail today Your computer is within...
4 tags
John is a liar
Christina said I was a liar Don’t believe anything I say We definitely did not make out last night He didn’t push me up against the mustard colored walls And his hands weren’t placed on my sharp hip bones Wounding him, there were no stigmata scars And he certainly was not holy He wasn’t the best kisser I’ve ever had And I didn’t tell him that We weren’t...
Reason for the new tumblr
I just really wanted to start all over with my writing. I felt like at my old tumblr I had written myself in a corner and kind of defined what my writing was and it felt like there was no growth. I felt claustrophobic and self censoring so I decided to start over. As far as the name it came from the idea that by writing I can tend to the wounds that have troubled me. I can use this as a...
I’ve been living those archaic ways going back to pen and paper and it has felt good to move my body in a different way to get down what I’ve wanted to say.
