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-truth-will you meet me in the spaces-truth-6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
between our fingers
become tiny
atom-like
indivisible, but one
(and all the smaller pieces
that don't matter)
trade electrons
become
heavier
elements
----
a hollow note
crawls up
my throat
when you
depart
----
twenty minutes to dawn
(i know this because we've been here before)
in this moment, and this thing of arms and arms entwined, called embrace
this moment on soft notsosoft ground sheets
this look
it's the same
and in this moment
this moment is again
----
and your voices
singing as the past
ricocheting off
ceilings and walls
that do not house me
anymore, i hear you
strum af
i love the way i say ithow come perfection could be the smile of apology you made when you were always latei love the way i say it6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
how come perfection could be
could be
would be
cant be
was?
was.
wasnt.
was it?
ricocheting back
and forth
velocity isnt lost each time
the bounce has changed
direction
If you keep your eyes closedI start, but I begin to faulterIf you keep your eyes closed6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
catching myself on cliffs of wind chapped lips
gnawing uncertainty with white spears
(oh native tongue)
what's spinning you?
The bastard child that thinks I'm a yo-yo.
I begin again, only to fall into
the same too big for you shoes, same glazed (aspartame laced) over smile,
and you. you are... a
act i into(beauty)act i into6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
obscured into a blur
i become fluid with the silent
motion of the lines
my eyes are a continuing moment
along the spectrum of heard
seen tasted felt
(smelt)
--
this is the wonder of is
--
i miss the genesis
the before the flood
--
the fluid motion
of calling home the birds
with a scattering of seeds
--
the tips of your hair
dapple bright ecstasies
on your reflection
they drip the terror
from your throat
floating downstream
--
a tracing of your skin
under my skin print
injects memory into my fingers
and solidifies in silence
--
it was raining when-
it was raining when-
it was raining when you held you
is this how it is to fly?the sleepy storm of your aeroplane fingersis this how it is to fly?6 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
hurricaning gentle rushes along the tips of my ear flesh--
no, i did not say stop
as a child in your arms, I wish for more wishes
too few are the moments we glide beneath our eye sheets
tucking our tears into slippery sleep
when does wait turn into savour?
jester flowers dance jangly yellow beneath my feet and i feel
the gentle grumble of the wind's distaste through my ear pipes
along my jaw; my straining neck
a furore of bent elbows and outstretched arms tasting cloud whispers
on my cheeks, on my lips, and my hair no longer obeys the law
of gravity
is this how it is to fly? arms wicked
dioxygen.i dreamt of fevers dropping asdioxygen.6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
waterfalls cascading down my back
they collected themselves in the
hollow of my spine and conspired
plotting against my chest
and the haphazard instrument
stuck behind my ribs
that i used to call your heart
they slicked across my belly
and left traces of heat
across the centre of me
kneading my stomach into nooses
to hang my indecisions with
they crawled up between my valley
and speared into my breast plate
i did my best impersonation
of a brave soldier
and saluted myself like a fool
explosions underwater
was my blood
beneath my skin
as my fever
made its way
deeper
and deeper
into me
i
the truth as otheri get the best thoughts in your boarded up toiletthe truth as other6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
shutting the door tight and hiding where you won't find me.
it hasn't been used for years. the window beams
orange light at me through the cardboard.
it's warm in here, it's filled with spider breath, and i could pretend
i was an earl, with web-hair clumped as curls.
the air is dust and mould and 1980-something -
i can't quite pick the vintage.
i let it settle on my tongue and try my best to keep quiet
you'll hear me and if you do...
--
i tend to find perfect presents for people i used to know
ten, five, two years too late.
sometimes i buy these things just because of the feelin
do you ?whose person did i become?do you ?6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i wasnt
alone
in my
thoughts.
(i struggle to shut out all the things that i wasnt saying)
i dream incessantly
and stare far too much at the sky
(can you tell me what it says about me?)
I'm quiet when I break. And no, you wouldn't know, I could be smiling, and no, you wouldn't know. I could be laughing at your jokes and your surface weather pleasantries, and I could be breaking, and no, you wouldn't know.
There is stonework I traced, and never memorised completely, cracks I didn't step on and fingers interlaced, conversations I recall pieces of, like pieces of stri
if i live i promise to . . .if i live i promise to . . .6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
3 fucking minutes and then... (3) I will tell you
you in your mouthi am curious about youyou in your mouth5 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
of course, i'd like
to know how many sugars
if any, i think i'd like
to know how well
done. but i'm not sure
of course, if i should be
curious (or otherwise)
if it is indecent
of me to speculate
ponder how much milk
wonder what textures
you favour
in your
mouth
maybe i should wait
for the situation
to present itself
rather than spend
these days thinking
about
it
everyone else is asleep exceptOpen the back door, slide it across the metal seperator quietly, slowly peel back the doorwayeveryone else is asleep except6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
let yourself out.
and it is quiet and it is stonework surrounding cool
against
your courtyard
careful to stick to the stepping stones
large enough for two pairs of shoes
(but i am alone)
i can feel silver on my skin
it started pulsing towards me many minutes before i had even woken
you are cool breezes susurrating on my cheeks
forgotten chatter floating from the next house
the next doorway
the next city
on a different continent where your mother is buried
i come back here sometimes
when everyone else is asleep except for the cockroach
youmesmeriseme[youmesmeriseme6 years ago in Typographical More Like This
you mesmerise me
you rise me; me's me
me me me, rises you
mire see you, me e
see you-me, sire
is you (me-you)
(is mess,
yes)
you see me
(some mess,
yes)
i see you
you miser
(misery
yes)
is you
is you
is you
is your me
you're me
(my m
ess)(m
ore)
um, i,
i
rise
yes.
(i'm ire;
you ire)
i rise
you...
(you mimes)
you eerie
(me iri;
you ism)
you see me is i
mes mere?
yes, sir
i is
]
it was about peopleI collect quotes. Searching for them in compendiums, in newspapers, magazines. Jittering a caustic smile on my acidic lips--but no, never to speak them--just to laugh.it was about people6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
I collect quotes as I collect people. Filing high away on my slapdash shelving, remembering... only snippets of a whole. A half remembered name. The trace notes of a giggle; a guffaw. The way yellow teeth glittered with chicken and whisky; feet danced with gin.
"I remember," I used to say, lying all the way home, propped up against a comrade in Syrah. "Ha-ha," he'd say, my night's half a John, or Mark, "we all remember in the morning!"
"No you fool," I would start, straight
i dare not.one day, one day i'm going to break and there won't be anyone there to catch me.i dare not.6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
don't be silly
no, not the one that partially... completely destroyed my will to breathe. the other one.
right now i'm so out of reach of reality that when i open my palms i find clawings and blood
and i don't remember
i dug so deep just to focus away from
my chest? im still breathing? oh, you meant something else.
i don't understand the generousity, too much comes back with a want for boomeranging
you do? when?
i suppose i can't be sure. you can. course you can't.
i don't believe in that either, just so you know.
what were you trying to mean?
just so
let's exchangeand i always lived by that moment.let's exchange6 years ago in Other More Like This
walking backwards on green men flashings just to talk to you face to face
mixed tapes and cds.
-tell them all that we couldve been happy-
-tell them that-
-tell them that we never smiled so much when-
you and me, when we never danced the laws of physics could not contain us
im here standing on this straight line
viewing you in distances
targetting on the view finder
and it seems to me, every day is virtual reality
this could virtually be happening
literal only matters with a snap, bang
your eyes are beating
your heart is wandering
another new obsession with an old infatuation
(you can always
bang on the doortheres blood on the wall againbang on the door6 years ago in Surrealism More Like This
and theres this noise coming from me that i cant tell is mine
there are noises
theres a lot of this liquid, here too.
tends to come at night. tends to come at night
and there are visions that lie to me
they make me see things that arent there
theres blood on the walls again
where is it coming from
tends to try and come at me in the night
theres this liquid here too
i dont know where its coming from
theres blood on the wall again
they come to me at night
when im trying to trying to trying to try
im trying but they wont listen
theres blood on the walls again
there are noises
im trying to tending
golden cageThis day: today. Is any other day, all days.golden cage6 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
Tomorrow, yesterday. Everything in one, nothing in it all.
You take a bit of black, and with every brushstroke you shade hurt
and pain and suffering; all the cliches that only we, us, you, me, ever feel
for the first time, every time. Exactly how each generation creates sex.
No one wants to believe in ultimate nothingness, not even the depressed little ones with their drunken fist shaking at night skys.
Even when convincing yourself to believe that there is only void, null, empty black holes and vacuums full of minus; some stagnance remains - human hope.
Which is just another term for huma
drink it downno more, sounds good.drink it down6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
but then, i don't know how to make that come about.
[one month, try one month at a time]
i'm recognising my love for ampersands.
and how interesting it is to know the names of all the little signs.
it is not up to you to decide what i do, and i'm coming to the belief that it isn't quite up to me either.
[maybe in a few more months]
there's a whore stuck in my head with needle points and gushing, injecting me with so many things i don't want to know about. there's a dull knocking, that i know if i open the door to, no one will be there but ugly little monsters, deformed thoughts, malignance lining my insides with a
F is for...so, you still a virgin?F is for...6 years ago in Transgressive More Like This
pull your pants back up and stop mooning me.
it's because she wants someone she can't have.
but we still haven't gotten you a boyfriend.
how many dots are there?
hey that's my girlfriend!
that's the first time i saw you.
so, you bi?
i love it when it tickles.
B is for bought.
so you're not really bi.
i love it when it hurts.
here's a little present.
you bitch!
...so what did you do?
he went too high or something and she's got an infection.
funny little Christian girls.
yeah she was a whore back then.
he was a virgin, they all were.
how old were you?
oh i've got many stories.
i was eleven. don't tel
a screaming wouldcrass as it sounds i love you.a screaming would6 years ago in Transgressive More Like This
trite delights, i love you, i dont.
i am in whirlwind mode. mood, changes with the moon
you see my fingertips tracing lines on things that used to be kissed
stopping you, making you silent.
and then the walk,
the walk away
away.
---
i cant get over
the finishing of my
just before i
relaying my thoughts as i think them
'coincidence makes sense only with you'
not, no more,
not, no how.
[you were my mullmuzzler]
'i am too connected to you to slip away fade away days away i still feel you touching me changing me and considerately killing me'
'moments wasted isolated time escaping endless sacrifice
rorrimYou know when you realise you should just let it all go? Yes? Well then lucky you. I haven't quite come to that conclusion yet. I'm stuck still on so many things, and my ability to bounce back has... stop laughing! Stop fucking laughing at me with your cool visage. Your kept to, make to.rorrim6 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
This isn't it, it isn't me. So many people thought they knew me, so many people think that they do, still. Still I can't quite shake this, this familiarity, like this action, these words, have flowed through me before. Glitches in chemical responses?
Float backward in essence and these same lips kissed those same lips before.
I have my open palm, cradling
vacillateim just here,vacillate6 years ago in Surrealism More Like This
placidly skimming the tips of my toes in circular directions on your chest.
no.
absent mindedly stringing myself up as drying pearls that you
possibly. well it was never going to be a question of never
but a question of when.
[dont ever sing it to me]
dont you sing it to me
but you sang it to me.
fingers on lips, then sticky taped lips down, then electric tape,
then it was just another voice beating on inside of me.
(i wont ever let me say it)
sometimes maybe, perhaps,
i wish it were more...
basis for complaint is compliance
how much?
how long? and what else did you lose in the tumble?
my stones are nearly smoot
in t i matestruck.in t i mate6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
matches up and to it.
fro the to and
sources onto air
in
another missing letter
hiding behind other words
and relayances and causals
and reliances on intimation
execution.
a building of character with flung out spittle
and creases of skin
these words i write
these words i say
are never what i mean.
the circle, the squarei tried this morning i did. i tried very hard, and it started but it never reached a crescendo, it sort of fizzled out like a not held on to the bottom of balloon.the circle, the square6 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
it started. but there was no follow through. i think i've run dry. it scares me, scares me so much, because it's lurking somewhere dark and mysterious, maybe somewhere locked behind my ribs, somewhere in between all my pulsing soft textured organs in my abdomen. with bright ugly eyes and waiting.
maybe it was a conscious unconscious subconscious thing. where my mind in all it's forms wouldn't won't doesn't let me at all. if ever, anymore, again.
just left with red slight swells
Sta.sh
