Four SkiesFour Skies8 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
We are pretenders. Wait. Let me correct myself. We are a bunch of fake, faking fakers.
Im sorry. Its just that tonight is one of those bittersweet goodbye times where Im saying, "Yeah! Ill come visit you and youll come visit me and itll be just like its always been!" but what Im really saying is, "Dont stop being my friends!" because Im worried that they will stop being my friends. Because they are going away, and I am not.
But for now we can hold our hands over our eyes and pretend that were in a suspended moment. This is a bittersweet goodbye time, but it could just be any other day this summer, where we pile into Lukes basement. He gives us carbonated drinks, somebody sets theirs directly atop the "new" coffee table, Luke turns into the universal mother and his voice becomes increasingly higher in pitch, "Guys! Come on! Do you know how long it takes to scrub
the music manthe music manthe music man9 years ago in Other More Like This
he takes a six-string to the shoreline.
i raise my eyes from the pages
and the words i've been
since the a.m.
notes for a lake;
rocks and sand
take up the
then skips along the surface
of the water,
[one, two, three]
i later search with my hands in the
dark. combing grasses, listening
for the spark of a melody, the
cascade of his waterfall chords
asleep on my stomach at the edge of
the dock, bare arms cold against
night air that speaks autumn
,i hear his music in echoes
i hear his music
in the hush of water against decaying wood.
in the gaps between on and off stars.
in the rush of wind through trees.
in the map to dreams in jars.
the melody in a jar,
the glass thick
from the curve
of his ear when he
Existential HangmanExistential HangmanExistential Hangman7 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
Maybe it takes sitting in the backseat of a car to realize your life.
Maybe it takes leaning your head against the window, knowing your hair will have a weird kink in it when you get out of the car to wherever you were going in the first place. But you do this anyways because its what they do in the movies, and sometimes its nice to feel like youre in a movie.
Maybe it takes your own silence, your own touching your bottom lip to the top. Looking around at the people that you could recognize by their wrist. This sounds impossible, but I bet there are people in your life that you could do this for. If somebody took pictures just of the wrists of all your closest friends and family, you could probably tell who was who. Arm hair. Geometric freckle formations. Protruding wrist bones. Creases in the skin from where theyve waved and written at odd angles. You would know.
Maybe it takes the streetlights. And the traffic lights.
108801PLANESCAPE108801PLANESCAPE9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
your shiver-smile is exultant.
i thought that
while i waited for the
suns to fall,
i would sing quietly
of the planescapes;
and how we, hand in hand
held the rising
jewels of the eternal apex
in that void, brimming with
life and interstellar
"your shiver-smile is exultant,"
i breathed in your ear
while you frosted over
and when again the suns
did climb to their zenith,
we were seen
as nothing less than
made of superstrings
Wooden solitudeThis puppet got tangled up in its strings,Wooden solitude6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
somewhere along the way lost its wings,
its hands can't move and the head hangs loose,
this puppet certainly learned how to lose.
That puppet hangs from the ceiling unused,
skin all battered, skin all bruised,
master loved it years ago,
master's away now, I know, I know.
And I, self-proclaimed masterpiece, sit on the table,
watch the world and feel fairly unstable,
master's away and he's not coming back,
his puppets decay, we're fading to black.