Heavy hands and heavy hearts

Because she looked like Audrey Hepburn and had a heart the size of the sun I knew I wouldn’t...

Mon, 08 Apr 2013 03:39:29 -0400

Because she looked like Audrey Hepburn and had a heart the size of the sun I knew I wouldn’t ever be good enough for her, but I tried anyway.

I am still trying.

The temperature is rising, the world is warming, my blood is rushing faster, my hands are impatient,...

Sun, 07 Apr 2013 16:33:58 -0400

The temperature is rising, the world is warming, my blood is rushing faster, my hands are impatient, and thanks to the season I am thirsty for love.

It has been too long since I've written.

Sat, 06 Apr 2013 01:41:00 -0400

Send me ideas to write about and inspiration?

If you thought gravity was rough try to live under the weight of so many crushes. I will be the boy...

Thu, 14 Feb 2013 22:24:53 -0500

If you thought gravity was rough try to live under the weight of so many crushes. I will be the boy with the broken bones and roses waiting for a woman with the courage to love me back.

This is the only graveyard where we dig ourselves upRemove our skeletons and go on about our...

Mon, 11 Feb 2013 17:49:00 -0500

This is the only graveyard where we dig ourselves up
Remove our skeletons and go on about our way
Don’t worry I will still know all you people
That feel too much
You will bear stitched scars, over broken hearts
Trying to be well
No one wants to be broken
No one wants anyone to see their cracks
But me,
I am content to be one of the wounded
Bury myself the black of the earth
And wait,
For someone who has fallen the same way as I
To fill this grave with me.

My head is full of dirty jokes and literary quotes and I’m hoping that’s enough for...

Wed, 30 Jan 2013 20:48:34 -0500

My head is full of dirty jokes and literary quotes and I’m hoping that’s enough for someone to love me. Do you think you could take me the way I am with holes in my hands, without a way to keep you here? Could you take me as I am laying on my back without a spine trying in vain to piece together new constellations. I am the dreamer being pulled in too many directions. I am coming apart at the seams. It seems I can’t last much longer.

Crush

Tue, 11 Dec 2012 00:07:00 -0500

I’d call you a crush but the weight of it might be too much for you. Sunk down into the earth, among the moles and snails isn’t where you belong. Or maybe it is, maybe you will set down roots to weather the winter so that when spring comes flowers bloom from your fingers. The bees will busy themselves trying to pollinate while being careful with their stingers. Maybe you are a vine destined to wind your way up oak trees only to pull them down so that they lay on their backs loving you while rotting away.

There comes a point where words are wasted if I tell you that you’re beautiful again. Go to...

Sat, 08 Dec 2012 17:20:34 -0500

There comes a point where words are wasted if I tell you that you’re beautiful again. Go to the sea and when you come to where waves meet shore take a look at yourself in the wash and see what I see. If you can’t I will hide underwater and whisper it to you so that you think all this love is coming from yourself, where it should be. I am not enough. I am just a man, or a sack of flesh, or a bag of bones. I am something that won’t last. I just need you to believe everything I’ve told you, everything that will be here after I’m gone.

I knew she was a woman because of how aware she made me of my hands and how much I wanted to touch...

Sun, 02 Dec 2012 18:04:12 -0500

I knew she was a woman because of how aware she made me of my hands and how much I wanted to touch her but couldn’t until I had her permission. I knew she was a woman because she walked with both a rhythm and the wind. I knew she was a woman because she knocked me over without speaking to me and left my lying there my back on the concrete staring up at the sky waiting for it to be night so I could wish on a star to see her again. I knew she was a woman.

This isn’t a love song. This is me asking you why. Why don’t we talk anymore? I miss...

Fri, 30 Nov 2012 23:55:28 -0500

This isn’t a love song. This is me asking you why. Why don’t we talk anymore? I miss the way your voices rises when you’re excited about some new things? Why don’t you call anymore? You had your own ringtone and sometimes I’d put off answering so I could dance, I could dance. Why don’t you come around anymore? Why don’t you knock on my door and let me ask who’s there like I don’t already know the sound that your knuckles make. Your tiny fish could break down brick walls, bank vaults, and mountain sides. Your tiny fish can fit inside my hand and make me whole again. Why don’t you come around. I’m not going to sing you a love song. I’m just going to ask you why.

I am scared of silence. I am scared of the way that quiet creeps in and wraps its tentacles around...

Tue, 20 Nov 2012 01:29:21 -0500

I am scared of silence. I am scared of the way that quiet creeps in and wraps its tentacles around your neck. I am afraid I might be suffocated.

If you are walking among the clouds I have to wonder do my thoughts of you have enough gravity to...

Sat, 10 Nov 2012 10:46:34 -0500

If you are walking among the clouds I have to wonder do my thoughts of you have enough gravity to pull you down. Come live with me on the ground amongst the bugs and insects. We will make a summer house out of flower blooms. And when winter comes to wither our home. We can move into a cave, light fires, and watch the flame’s shadows dance along the walls.

Patience

Fri, 09 Nov 2012 00:09:29 -0500

I don’t know the patience of creation
I don’t know what it’s like to take 6 days to make something.
If I made the world zebras wouldn’t have different patterns
There would only one copied and pasted over and over
I might tire of drawing manes on lions
So a few might have mohawks or crew cuts
And stick out from all the rests
If it were up to me birds wouldn’t wait till Spring to sing
And roosters would sound their cock’s crow at midnight,
anxious to meet the sun
I wouldn’t wait till the sun was down to have a drink
And it wouldn’t take at least six beers to get me drunk, and brave
I’d walk in with enough courage to tell the girl at the end of the bar,
She’s pretty,
I would still still say pretty because I’m old fashioned and that wouldn’t change.
But we wouldn’t have to wait to fall in love after we got to know each other
We just would know each other the way we know that the sun rises
And which way is up and down,
We would know each other the way we know that water is wet,
And that heat burns,
And I wouldn’t have to wait three days to call her,
We would leave the bar and go straight to our house with the picket fence
And the two and a half kids,
We wouldn’t treat our half a kid any different,
We would tell him he can be anything he wants
And he doesn’t have to wait,
Because Daddy made the world,
And he has no patience,
He just wants to be at the end of things sometimes,
Like the last page of the of the book
Where the story winds down and we find out the hero got the girl.

I learned to love in all directions like a paper airplane caught in the wind. I learned to love the...

Wed, 07 Nov 2012 01:15:48 -0500

I learned to love in all directions like a paper airplane caught in the wind. I learned to love the sound a woman makes when her feet strikes the ground. I learned to love in echoes so that it will always come back again. I learned to love larger than myself so that I will know that I am more than just this body. I am the air. I am the passing breeze that you haven’t inhaled yet. I smell of fresh water and the types of pine trees that grow in these southern states. I smell of fall and these shortened days. I smell of the night that lasts a little too long. I learned to love the sun because you couldn’t hide from her. I learned to love the moon because she is different every night. So my question is, when will someone learn to love me?

Shouldn’t there be a prize for those of us who survive the night? Not those people who lay...

Mon, 22 Oct 2012 07:19:18 -0400

Shouldn’t there be a prize for those of us who survive the night? Not those people who lay content in their beds, comfortably wrapped up in comforters, dreaming that everything will be better. I am talking about those of us who stay up raging against the night, abandoned by sleep, forced to hang our wishes on shooting stars because they are our only hope. I hope to one day sleep well and greet the morning as a surprise instead of waiting for her to pull herself up over the horizon. The morning isn’t allowed to sleep late, pull the covers over her head, and say, “Ma, just a few more minutes, please.” Instead she puts on her best face to tell the restless and the rested, ” I am here, It is time to begin again.”

This is the golden time we have spun out of the sun’s rays and draped across our bodies so...

Sat, 20 Oct 2012 05:46:54 -0400

This is the golden time we have spun out of the sun’s rays and draped across our bodies so that we might wear out each day. I want to spend each day expiring so that I will be born again tomorrow. I’ve come to know the best mirrors are your eyes because I am the best version of myself in them. I don’t want to wait till tomorrow to become the man I’m supposed to be today. If the sun sets you might walk away and get lost in the darkness. Forgive me Brother Night but your moon mistress does not light up my nights enough. I’m begging for a better way to shine.

pt. 2 and you'll be left with pretty flowers and dead flowers etc. Subtlety and discretion is the key. I'm sure there must be similar criticisms about the crap I do and even this message, I know there is, I just wanted to say something because you seem to see the world in a cool way and I'd like to see more things like what I came here from originally.

Mon, 15 Oct 2012 11:08:27 -0400

Honestly most of what I write on this blog is right off the top of my head. I appreciate your criticisms but it is nothing that I haven’t told myself in harsher words. It feels good to just get some things out a lot of the time and if I ever wanted to do something with my writing I know the level would need to come up a lot. This blog is where I just riff off of ideas and try things out and hope some people enjoy it while I do.

Hai, someone reblogged 'that-thing-wut-you-did' called 'flirt' and I felt compelled to check out your blog because I really like what your wrote. Honestly, it (your blog as a singular object) bugs me more than a little and I really felt like I should say something. You seem to leap into convoluted and unnecessary imagery almost immediately and keep hammering away at the same devices over and over. Everyone likes pretty flowers but when there are too many too many in the one pot, the weak ones

Mon, 15 Oct 2012 11:06:43 -0400

flirt

Sun, 14 Oct 2012 16:54:53 -0400

It is unfortunate when you get in one of those flirty moods and the people next door to you are married as are all the people downstairs. The guys that live across from you are just that guys and don’t spark your interest. You think about going out but you realize that you’ve put off all your work for this lazy Sunday that you’ve napped away half of already. It is a shame because right now your confidence is high and you feel like you wouldn’t bite your tongue in the presence of a pretty lady today. Maybe you could get her to commit to something beyond tonight and the wheels of your brain could start turning. You’d take her to your favorite used bookstore and buy her a book to read. Tell her she will find a better understanding of you between the pages than you would ever dare to be able to say.

Tell her,

I will not be found in the foreword, introduction, or afterword but instead I will be found somewhere in the middle of the book on an odd page not quite halfway down. There will be a quote there that wasn’t expected but you will know once you read it is me. You will say this is a man I’d like to spend time learning facts about. Does he prefer red or white wine? What’s his favorite meal? Why does have four purple shirts? Is he close with his mother? Is he close with his family? Will he stay awake just to talk to me as I fall asleep? Does he keep his eyes open while kissing? Which way does he lean when kissing? He must go right. People always go right, except he knows that so maybe he will go left and introduce something new to my life. I could use something new to my life and you will say to yourself maybe this boy with eyes like wells of amber and crooked smile that is barely more than a smirk could be for me.

The season is changing, the weather is setting in. Some are in a rush to cover their bodies, to...

Fri, 12 Oct 2012 22:36:18 -0400

The season is changing, the weather is setting in. Some are in a rush to cover their bodies, to warm themselves but not I. I am amongst those whose blood is boiling and hands are aching trying to stretch myself across empty places. I am among those who are the echoes of heart beat. I am the breath on a woman’s lips right before she is kissed. I am the goosebumps on her arms as she waits in an anticipation for me to eradicate the distance between us.