the god that was never there
i watched a man speak once. he told of the stars, planets, and people- and how they all came to being. some people say a picture is worth a thousand words, but no one ever gives the worth of words that create images. he created images of blackness- of a non-existent identity.
he told me about the birth and made very clear that it was the only beginning that ever really existed. he said, "the creation of something is the start- and nothing happens before the start. there is no god to shoot a gun or shout, 'go'". there was no time- and time is really the only living thing to this very day.
my head collapses inwards- my eyes explode with small white lights and swirling colors.
i have seen people wearing beige sweaters and carrying meaningless charts, and they always seem to win at life. i see you become one of these people- your dreams are rotten, and your hope is only there as a survival tactic. i used to think that i knew you, and you told me what you thought right.
you spoke about life
The Bride of AtlasShe met him when the world was new;The Bride of Atlas2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
when wars were fought in the cosmos
and celestial beings deigned expose
and visit themselves upon the mortals.
In darkness he came to her;
somewhere between fantasy and the real,
disguised as a human, burly and firm
with want of a lover and yearning for release.
She knew him as a man
and he loved her as his wife.
A Titan he had always been
at battle with Olympians
who garnered all of humanity's love
and chose war over peace to keep it.
As lightning struck, thunder roared,
and waves destroyed the earth,
all grew quiet as Olympus rejoiced
and she knew that he had lost.
Zeus then rest upon his shoulders
the weight of the world eternal.
A punishment made more severe
by lack of warmth from her mortal heart.
He carried his punishment made unending
as Earth's coarsened face gouged his back.
The insects and beasts stung and mauled
and the humans warred and burned his flesh.
Still he held the world atop his shoulders
Across the RiftBecause of who I amwho I've been, and my experiences during theAcross the Rift3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
transitionmy fingers tend to obtain a death grip on what I dub
give them an inch and they'll take a mile, gravitating further and further
with each inch so hesitantly given.
I couldn't bear to loosen my grip anymore;
I held the leash as close as allowed, feeling very clearly
each time you roughly pulled in the opposite direction.
Calluses were built, and leashes eventually clutched tighter,
So of course I'd find letting go hard.
The SurrealistI lose myself within shadows:The Surrealist3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the looming, lanky shapes of skyscrapers that veil busy streets and intersections
the clouds in the sky reflected on pavement like the artwork of a lonely artist,
and even in my own shadow, which hides sometimes when the sun, too, loses itself behind a darkened silhouette.
I lose myself within the ripples upon the water, transfixed by the ease in which rocks skip off its slippery surface.
It reminds me briefly of a beach in Washington, whose massive waves engulfed every rock
I dare let fly, my effort consumed in salt and foam.
I would spend hours washing sand from toes, and wrestling salt from hair and flesh,
but the sea was my obsession, and it only took a moment of memory to lose myself again.
I lose myself in blackened sky, awed and
breathless over the dimension that unfurls: white and shining.
Wishes are placed on every star for morning, as if, when day came,
the night would fade away with me.
I was always here when sunlight peeked over jagged mo
OptimismLike a flower blooming into a bitter winter night,Optimism3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
it should not be,
but it is.
Droplets fill those thirsty roots
lights the darkest corner of the earth.
The Girl Who CriesThe Girl Who Cries3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Look at the girl
Head down, knees up
Before the terrace of marshmallow houses
Tears like silver winter rain
Running down sun-kissed cheeks
1: an introduction of sortsThe thing was that my mother continued to insist that the ceilings in our house were low, thereby ignoring the obvious, which was that her son was a giraffe. It wasn't the fact that she was trying to kill me with kindness that bothered me, it was that she was pretending to not see what was right in front of her eyes. In fact, my entire family (which consisted of my parents and the stray cousin or aunt that sometimes dropped in unexpectedly from obscure places such as Majorca) had a way of glossing over the fact that I towered above them like an obscenely tall office building. They'd crane their necks back and squint up at me and say, "Why, Tate, you haven't grown a bit!" It drove me mad to the point of making me irritable, which is saying quite a lot. Usually when something upsets me, I'll hide in my room and quietly let it stew for a while before reemerging downstairs as if nothing had happened. But when a relation looked me in the eye and smiled as if they were mentally cutting me in1: an introduction of sorts3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Chesslet's play a game of chess.Chess3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
are the pawns,
movements to take
time i speak
by crafty pawns.
to anticipate all your
you got me in checkmate.
.i keep a garden of.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
dead leaves, their amber
ribs crack under my
feet, and i smile
the flowers turn their
backs on me
Where Were You, God?where were you God,Where Were You, God?3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
When I was bleeding
In the darkness, Screaming with pain?
where was your salvation and so-called ease?
where was your hope?
You never came.
where were you, God,
When he came,
And shattered and battered my aching bones?
When he was kicking me in the face,
You decided then,
To leave me alone?
Where were you, God,
When he tore off my clothes?
You never answered my shrieking prayer.
When he shoved my face into the ground,
I looked up.
You weren't there.
where were you, God,
When I was begging, when I was pleading,
"Get off of me!"?
"Did you hear him laugh and slap my face
"No one's listening"?
where were you, God,
When he finished, licked me, kicked me,
and just left me in the rain?
There was no one there to comfort me but my tattered clothes,
a blood-chilling laugh,
and black blood-stain.
Where are you, now, God,
As I lay here dying,
No longer caring that you've missed your cue?
you WERE there, I realize, as i lick off my knife,
The blood-chilling laugh
fire and moonshineshe'll burnfire and moonshine3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
one cigarette at a time
just an angry bonfire
throwing new stars to the sky
every sugar-coated word
drown everyone in moonshine
if she doesn't smother first.
A Death Happily MetPeople somehow believe, that suicide is a choice,A Death Happily Met3 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
But how can someone chose a path of no return,
How can someone chose to lose their own voice?
Some people somehow believe, that suicide isn't brave,
But how can someone afraid leave behind everything,
How can someone afraid dive into their grave?
I hope one day, you'll regret what you said,
Because that day, you'll still be hopelessly fighting,
And I'll be happily, peacefully, thankfully dead.
Cigarettes and RelationshipsCIGARETTES AND RELATIONSHIPSCigarettes and Relationships4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
There's something about cigarettes that makes me think of relationships. I came to think of this whilst I was waiting for someone, passing the time by smoking cigarette after cigarette. When done with one I simply threw it away and lit the next.
To begin with, the way you get addicted to it, you most often start smoking because you have friends that smoke and obviously you want to be just as cool as them. In the beginning it's kind of awkward and weird, other people might tell you that you smell like crap and so on, but in due time you not only get used to it but also realise that you would kill for a smoke, or a fag, but that's just a minor matter of idiom. At this point you don't really care about what kind of cigarettes you're smoking, there's no interest in loyalty to a special brand at all, and everything tastes the same anyway, so why bother? When you just started smoking you don't give a shit about what you're smoking, you just want to smoke as much
mumbled piano musingswhen I hearmumbled piano musings3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
or infant grand
the tiny space
between the strings
it seems where
God would resound
upon a wooden
if only inspiration
could be tuned
by a guy
from the Yellow Pages
as a giftas a giftas a gift3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
of sugar dreams
rolled under kitchen
lost in the cleaning
phase of responsible evolution
finding the idle rounded
bits of imagination
when the peak
of harried gloved handmotion
and bubbles subside
first you pluck
the glimmering granules
from the grout
you'd scrubbed devout
as though tiny invaders
once the glitter glint
you see raptured potential
energy beyond light
in crumble bits imagination
weary in chair
remove your feet from burden
ponder the morsels
planted in the midst of your efforts
to purge all that irrates
hold fast to them
moments of inspiration
creating salvation far beyond the antiseptic
memories of self
when fantasy ruled your world view
and dish towels were for bull fights you created
cherish them in your pocket
for all time
to never forget the joys
Faminei told himFamine2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i wanted to spend
paying my dues
to the circumference
of my spine, to the size
of my stomach,
that was not in it.
of my constant need,
in a voice like cold coffee.
the way you are."
i don't care
i care about hunger.
loneliness & starving
sisters. and i want to know
if the hunger that turns you
is anything like
Emerald PotionEmerald Potion3 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Emerald eyes in the light of a blue lagoon
Questions: What are you? Who are you?
Endless hair, the large Sea of Red
A creepy sight flowing between life and death.
Purple lips, whispering the sound of moon
A neck covered in pearls, painted by night's gloom
The chest with a soul who is not at home
Only the heart is there, but the owner, gone.
And again those wondering emerald eyes
Stealing the light from jealous stars
Fearing nothing, but everything aware of them
Oh, emerald eyes, such a pity to say farewell.
A Tragedy.We hear tales of love unconditionalA Tragedy.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And their messages I do scorn
For many tell of love unrequited,
The victims live forlorn
Their love unending
Yet they only wish for more
For the other to reciprocate
For the bond to grow more
But the bond is worth nothing to me
It'll only bring me pain
The bond of love
Until there's nothing left to gain
28 June 2012
5:55 PM (17:55)
ForgetYou remember nothing,Forget2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
How my love for you in the end,
Was taken apart in front of my eyes.
I thought you were once my friend,
But now I understand the truth in your lies.
You think of me with such spite,
Why are you the one to tell me,
What is wrong and what is right?
Your passion was blind but I made you see,
I remember everything.
Quoting ShakespeareThe fault, dear Brutus,Quoting Shakespeare3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
is not in our stars,
but in ourselves
Everyone does it,
you know they do.
They sound clever,
but not to you.
are less than
Give me a book,
battered and beaten
and marked to the brim.
All the world's a stage,
and all the men and women
Check the lines
and word counts.
As he was valiant, I honor him.
But as he was ambitious, I slew him.
Play the part,
But even if they don't,
you're not quoting Shakespeare.
You're letting him live again.
of addiction. i. of naivetyof addiction.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
when i met you, you spilt sweet words into my bleeding ears and plugged the holes so they couldn't spew back out. my too-deep trust in you grew on instability, sweat and the infection in my forgotten wounds.
"i love you," you groaned as your arms wound around me and my eyes shuttered into blankness. "we're gonna be together forever, okay? forever."
must exist, i whispered in my head.
you wouldn't lie to me. i know you wouldn't.
when i turned the corner, you were there, waiting for me. ready to grab my hand and tug me under. and i let you because you made me feel better.
ii. of denial
i drew our memories in red and painted the sky with my tears until it sparkled. i buried the truth under you because it crept up in my mind and told me stories of a disorder i do not have.
i do not have faultiness i
open airWe hang the house in driedopen air3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
flowers; the attentive scents
of spring, all chronicled on yarn.
The forgiving aroma of magnolia,
strung maroon and wilting gold.
The sweet tickle of jasmine
who sings of shady mornings
at every door.
All frozen in space
Like our hearts
like our breath
before our lips.
As a secret -
as an oath
oklahomamy father knows how to travel like a man steeped in tradition,oklahoma3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
so as we puff into the country-style chicken lot,
we are immediately affronted by colonies of snickering white rocking chairs.
the latino gang, sliding in floppy shoes, cheer on
a game of redblack checkers without real thirst for victory.
the smallest is feminine in too much gel, and as he tries to flip his
wax sculpture, he fiddles with his touch screen, adjusts his suctioned pants.
they sit in rocking chairs, apart, and who says
those melanin men are not enthroned there still,
lumpy, overlooked, cheering at chips and kings?
race alarms aside, maybe they did visit cracker barrel
just to play checkers, but that's no way to run an establishment
if there's a table empty
and money to be made.
"hi, i'm kathy" pulls up two extra stools
and jams us around a listing circular table.
my sister's fried apples slither out of the bowl,
the chicken is average, cornbread tough, and potatoes crusted.
in the heartland cooks still steer cle