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expansionmemories...More Like This
are slightly, (or mightily), built upon as time goes by;
that's what we do with what we did.
whether those recollections have collected
added details along the way,
we often do not know - ourselves.
these things don't make those things less treasured -
no, not less, but more.
tales are told, and in their telling,
(in)advertant lies cause normal swelling.
llp - dec'09 - dA
A moment in timeI do not want to capture the worldMore Like This
In a thick glass snow globe
By crystallising a moment in time
It would distort, it must distort
But so often I am dragged
To that loathsome depth
So often I trap the world
Between my
Eyes, brain, fingers, pen
It's unfair, it's so unfair
That I pin it
Sprawled and helpless
Without mercy, I dissect
I meddle
And it becomes tainted
The whole vast bright world
Reduced to a stuttering rhythm
Anaesthetised with cotton wool
And splinters of ice
Bound to do my bidding,
Tell the story I think it should
I will look back, I must look back
Not with shame but with remorse
At how callously I fouled
For KevinMore Like This
What dreams may lie under surface of a frozen star?
Once turned supernova evidence comes painfully late .
For the light that we see is but luminance turned memory,
slipped though our hands forever .
© 2007 Alexandra
Funeral of misplaced wantAlas my love its come to pass I've tired of our idle song.More Like This
I euthanize my failing hope give it to naught where it belongs.
Thou love me not, we know this truth. I finally acquiesce to fate.
I thousand lies I told myself to ease the bruise I contemplate.
Dust to dust no divine spark to bring the miracle to life.
Ill begotten travesty I see it now from empty height.
Were your silken words of truth, your actions louder they would speak.
I lay to rest my orphaned heart to walk my freedoms lonely street.
© 2009 Alexandra
Ritual Killing of my Child SibRitual killing of my child siblingMore Like This
He charged me like a one-ton bull,
deranged, afraid, eager.
But instead of waving a red gold embroidered capote,
I held a weed-whacker in my dream,
blades whirling full speed.
It was difficult at first to stay still
while metal ground on flesh, then bone,
his blood spurting out covering
my face in warmth as I stood unblinking,
but grew easier until all that was left to cut
was air.
For a moment all was still -
the smell of rusted metal fresh
with blood clung to the air,
the sound of gnashing steel and breaking bone
drummed in my ear, and
breath froze in my mouth.
The tool felt weightless in
the line to read and travelTo live is to travel. To let go of the known in search of one's true home.More Like This
Most of the time I see my home in open spaces, only for a moment or two at a time, but long enough to believe it exists. A glimpse of pale creamy sky punched by a slow sun above the oily waterfront, the moon coming out of the clouds just above the top of mountain in a moment before the scene shifts, the sunset above a thick hunter green forest where you can smell the chill in the air through the window glass. There is always a promise of familiarity and there is always a promise of losing the ambiguity of spaces and distances. The only way to find your home is to lose
van Gogh, the Orient: A LamentMore Like This
When van Gogh lost his soul
to Japonisme,
'twas no bushy-eyed barbarian
babbling about bushido
that enthralled him, but
a docile geisha's pallid wrist,
pouring barbiturates
in his whisky –
a dominatrix
of cherry blossom
in his soul.
No wonder –
when van Gogh lost his mind
to a gunshot,
'twas no starry-eyed samurai
supplicating for seppuku
that pulled the trigger, but
a dying puppy's whimper,
storms of samsara hanging
by a whisker –
a decussation
of dead sunflowers
in his mind.
in this space I knowRecords should be keptMore Like This
detailed, long,
of ghastly forms, pixelized
paralyzed onscreen
a painting in our digital museum
of everyday life
Paintings and dolls come alive at midnight
ghastly forms come alive when they like
and they die when they like and resurrect
sometimes in illicit tryst with a stranger
who might be a savior or more likely not.
I may not have fallen in love
cause I find rising in love more appealing
but some of us do fall, with no love
and that well of self-pity is deep.
You may not have understood
it's a trial by fire
but wet nevertheless
not because of the rain
I have witnessed fiery angels
climbing up
The Marble and The EdgeAt three, my wide eyes watchedMore Like This
as a marble rolled across the table,
its path illuminated by the light
from the window -
(light still entered that house then)
rolled and eventually lost
its grounding, fell like a misguided Columbus
off the edge, rolled under the radiator,
hot to touch and growling.
Then Christmas and the wrapping paper
strewn about the apartment, blood on the carpet.
I never could remember what happened
between the before and after,
but I remember the dark, frantic motion,
the lullaby siren.
While they methodically separated
shirt from body, bone from flesh,
my hand remained in hers.
We rolled steadi
musings from a dark roomOne thing I've discovered lately is how bright the sky becomes after the sun goes down. It's as if the sun, that fleeting giver of warmth and luminence, isn't shining as much as transplanting itself into a comatose patient. The sky and all beneath her lies open on the operating table of the universe as Sol opens an incision. She lies, patiently waiting, as the gleaming golden surgeon cuts her in two, pushing aside her shimmering insides and coating them with a false veneer of flesh. She remains passive as the golden brilliance of the scalpel envelops her very core, expanding to push aside the glittering amulet of the moon. The famous bluMore Like This
Aftermath of Castle RockCrestfallenMore Like This
weak as the wake
of the tepid trembling
glass
breaking over the sand.
How hard it is
To Treasure smiles
in a sweaty bath of
fear, or—
or to honour vows
recall sins
haul prayers from our faded minds.
To turn in such
faint
madness
is to discover a web of feet and hands, disjointed, discombobulated, unable to be grasped
in supplication or remorse
(The household names have gone now).
Leaden,
with half-dead voices
or none at all—
unbending under the sky's great agony
unsalted wounds of the spirit—
fingers clumsily find fellows
and hold.
Hold as the soreness stretches.
Unyielding.
Unbend.
A Salvage AttemptDrop dead,More Like This
Radiation red.
It's funny,
How people are molds
Of the predecessors minds,
With a shotgun strapped
Underneath their desk.
They send out submarines
Unprepared for battle,
Divers without tanks of oxygen,
But, to the chief,
They send back steak,
Not rare enough.
Bloody grease drips off the plate.
With all that is left,
Secret code ends up
On the check.
Classification of what's
Nothing but an old war movie,
A marathon of exhausted avenues.
A Devil's FormFight.More Like This
The men that wound.
The teeth that bite,
The feet that stomp,
The hands that slap
And punch and bruise.
Then, randomly,
Rub gently
Into a calm innocence.
As if never beckoned,
Buried deep within us all.
Surprise,
Summoned and asked to behave.
What mortal,
What disregard,
What render,
Never.
Ever,
Forever.
BreatheI can taste your innocenceMore Like This
clinging to my tongue
like warm cream. Beneath my lips,
you squirm, shedding first skin.
Yet as we lay afterwards,
I am the one shaking.
Like a father, you hold me steady.
Like my father
at the pool,
coaching me on how to calm
my shivering after
wet skin hit air.
"Breathe. Breathe. Breathe."
fool's gold.You see that horizon?More Like This
Light leaking over from the other side,
you’ve wanted that light for a very long time.
You see this road?
You’ve been thinking you were speeding down it,
joy ride?
you’ve been thinking it was all yours to travel.
Take another few before the trip,
a few for the road,
a few for the rest of your fucking life.
Asphyxiation by salt water won’t be so bad,
you’re used to it by now, right?
You see that nail file?
What you thought you could have, you never will.
What you thought you could be, you never will.
What you thought you could do, you never will.
What you thought was a horizon, nev
strings of pearls and breathunderwater they are mermaids. patterns of poolwater-caught sunshine dancing in soft-edged white upon their long legs (tails). red hair like ocean fire and fingers ever reaching for the bubbles, like pearls but from out their mouths. darting up between their fingers.More Like This
there are places here, beneath here, beneath the sound of their mother yelling at their father and the loud rough of the neighbour’s dog’s bark, where they can breathe. breathe the dead leaves in water whirlpools beneath their feet and breathe the chlorine, leaving eyes red and hair green at the tips. breathe the quiet of their bodies and their imagined underwater world
sidewalks arent freeshare her love on the sidewalk;More Like This
found on the corner b e t w e e n
YORK and THIRD.
baby, put on your love face...
paint away and
pretend you are not a whore.
wipe
away that red lipstick that covers your mouth;
smear
the blue shadow along your lids,
rip off
your long thick lashes.
thick lashes flutter butterfly kisses... almost innocent.
your eyelashes are fake;
just like the matter hiding behind the dumpster.
You: are my love on the sidewalk
...where I met you just past York, near Third.
hiked generously above the knee, a ‘play leather’ skirt screams "HELLO!!"
Keep
telling
yourself you can be classy too.
and j
interpret.in full bloom welcomed, after awaited. covered and hidin waiting for the first robin. innocence dangled like a worm fresh on a hook. tainted by that very first look.More Like This
blank;
canvas.
soft to touch.
crevaces and scars warn in coded brail.
translucant. thick and thin. now it becomes a puzzle as to why i ever let you in.
lines;
soft and blurred, hard and solid.
the shapes;
circular, square, triangles... geometric.
a puzzle. a prison. a temple. a tomb. sacred and cruel. taunting and tempting yet freed from the womb.
nerve endings and frozen veins coursing through like a maze. the valleys and the hills; an adventure that goes on for days
the fluttered- a collectioniMore Like This
Hear my joints dislocate, coming apart at the notion of sunlight. It falls and it settles in pictures of loveliness, golden tree branches and hints of leaves; of autumn, of spring.
I am so tall in the water. My legs are never-ending, crooked lines of peachskin- watching my fingers draw out ripples until they strain and buckle and fall into the cool. I’ll touch my toes and loop my figure and I’ll make giant ripples, abhorring fallen leaves and sending shivers of blue through his legs.
It’s a faded crimson red holding my breasts, tugging my hips and leaving my ribcage bare to the current. It’s smudged lipstick and smear
How Mothers Leave UsDecember dusk in Lawrence; longest night of the yearMore Like This
and lights go on above the blackened road.
Children's shrieks - praises to the sun god -
dwindle, are replaced by the murmur
of engines revving on the highway
just one block over.
My mother is finally dead.
In the deepening blue of night,
I wonder why I am still
there. It has been years, but the smell
of the place – old cigarettes and Irish coffee –
arrests me. A stucco painting of the Holy
Spirit represented by flames
atop the Disciples' heads looms
on the wall in the foyer.
I remember the sting
of the hardened plastic spatula, the one
with holes in the flat en
In Our Own Vain ImageThe white picket fence in front of me was probably a little different from what most people dream of. There were slats missing, the remaining boards edged with rot and dulled from exposure to both age and the elements. The wide, gapped smile of a beggar. Weeds spilled through the mouldy cracks like the forgotten shreds of yesterday's lunch between yellowed teeth.More Like This
The garden was an unmanageable mess of weeds and towering long grass, the paving stones hidden from view by the clinging moss that covered every vulnerable surface. There were no paths cut through the overgrown vegetation, a sure sign that both man and animal had left Mother Nature
Winter SolsticeWe thought it was the beginning of summerMore Like This
and it was the beginning of the dying of light
The sea was still too cold to swim
and you lacked courage to dive in.
I should have known back then
that the only water you dared look into
was the one which mirrored your own face.
But I could not let go of the beauty
that once inhabited your soul, I loved its trails.
From the other side of the cold blue mountain
I listened to our music of the spheres
as you pretended to hear it, too.
Summer passed and carried with its sands
those who I left along the way, the shells half-buried
rinsed by the sea which did not belong to me.
The sea calle
writeThe wind picked up all I dropped,More Like This
lifting and throwing each seed
to find them homes where I couldn't,
where I didn't--
I didn't want them to
bury, feel trapped, not as I--
I wanted them
to fly up and far away, like I hadn't.
Like I wouldn't.
They'd find a good place to rest,
not a calculated plot of land,
not where I would shove them in the dirt,
with my fingers measuring how deep
to plant them so they would flourish,
They must be on their own.
Whether we'd meet again--
it didn't matter,
for I would walk down this path,
looking once over my shoulder
at what I left behind
knowing I'd never get them back
and if I did,
Mother WarShe’s sitting at the window,More Like This
She’s staring out the door,
She’s pacing, pacing, pacing,
On the rug upon the floor,
And she’s waiting, waiting, waiting,
To see her son once more.
Her smile’s a cold, grim death mask,
Great holes are her mocking eyes,
She’s rocking, rocking, rocking,
With a face like winter skies,
And she’s reading, reading, reading,
His letters filled with lies.
“Mama can’t you hear me?
Knockin’ at the door?
Mama can’t you hear me?
Bangin’ on the floor?
Aren’t you longing, longing, longing,
To see the son that you adore?
“I can hear them scre
shoulder to the wheel...perhaps, past a pointMore Like This
in life,
the rest is living lost,
our slipping away.
perhaps, the nearer i come
to that point,
avoidance, whatever the cost,
the price i must pay.
perhaps, the ability,
in our centric place,
to admit futility
...is grace.
perhaps, some (or all) is true,
then there is this,
potential of a soul,
evident in your face.
perhaps, for what i see in you,
for all of us,
so much to do...
i must continue.
llp - aug'09 - dA
Now ForeignYou’re living in thick-skinned silence,More Like This
and I have used arrowheads and knives
carved from a mother’s femur, struck it with flint
and jabbed it with a unicorn’s horn,
but it remains thick-skinned and
all around you, impenetrably yours
and as your guard dogs growling in slit voices,
your faded brick walls and your moats
that I slide into too easily, that I climb out of
but never to a spot safe for me from you.
My hands are trembling and made out of bulging knuckles
the same color as my face, the reflection of the moon,
they are as white as cauliflower cradled in warm leaves,
greenly gentle and covered in the dirt i
Weapons and OrgasmI taught a few kids how to use a chainsawMore Like This
They repaid me with human skulls
Disappointed to say the least
I expected ancient bark, with waterfalls of nectar
For some twisted reason,
we expose the murderous side when provided with weapons and orgasm
Slower. Slow: her.my chest crushes in on itself. something in there knocks randomly, it hurts, and I forget that I forgot (on purpose) those stupid pills. another reason to go back, maybe. no.no.no.no.no. they won’t find any(no)thing wrong. yes, I can read the words on the screen, yes, I can hear the voice on the other end of the [life]line, yes, yes, yes. but none of it adds up, not even close, to the way two souls speak or sing or smother each other. maybe my soul, maybe my breath, my blood my bones/fingers/eyelashes/scent/thirst… maybe one of those holds the strange language that can explain this. explain any-all-things.More Like This
//noise bores me now. lig
IndigoShe stepped into the bath, feeling the water part, skimming up her leg as she sank back, watching the steam rise from the surface, tiny droplets swirling in the air, iridescent. She pressed the cold glass to her head, so cold against the hot water covering her, lapping over her shoulders covered by her dark hair. She tossed the cold vodka down her throat, listening to the ice chinking against the glass as the drink burned its way through her. The rhythmic dripping from the leaky tap, which usually irritated her, was surprisingly soothing so she concentrated on it watching the drips falling over her dark violet painted toes.More Like This
Setting the glass
Faces of GlassIt seems to me that life's a seaMore Like This
determined I will drown,
it's murky depths won't let me free
and seeks to pull me down.
Faces pass like polished glass
peering from the weeds,
ruddy cheeks of rusty brass
puff with gluttonous needs.
And try I do but they pursue
and drag me deeper still,
I scream and choke and they subdue
as my lungs with water fill.
Quietly I try to flee
but I am suspended here,
amid the tiresome, roiling sea
that's thickened with my fear.
So I contemplate my own fate
and the loss of my life,
and in the end I would rate
that it was only made of strife.
And is it true that I too
have become a face of glas
The dance floorShe enters the roomMore Like This
Softly lit ,treading gently
Over my skin. She stands still,
Pouring over her reflection,
Then starts to dance.
Arms sweep through the air
Swirling motes of dust,
Her only audience.
Bare feet point and flex across me
Painting her silent fears.
Knees bend and straighten,
Muscles striving,
Driving her body from me
To be caught by the air
And suspended before falling .
Toes first
Working through her feet and knees
To press against me once more,
To swoop and twirl
Curl and unfurl
Tear-sweetened drops of sweat
Shower, as she glides in lovely fury,
Filling the space with exquisite splendour
And gra
out of Gardenwhat seaMore Like This
how it is welling your eyes a wet mess
what tide
where urchins of the ocean will spill to howl their elegy
where mermaids will turn widows
once brine has swallowed whole their sailor babes
stewarding the land instead
is why i never set sail with you
but to lay in gardens, oh…
a bed sheet rotten by the ultraviolet
and our laps full of stars
what black soil will pervert your knees there
where moonlight will mirror out from your teeth
to run fanatic toward cosmic space
after bathing in the space among us
where walking air pushes every dust
one of sun-dried butterflies
one of beaten rug with broom
one of hone
BodyEntwined with vines and leavesMore Like This
I am left to watch, waiting
With eyeless, lidless sockets
That stare into the trees above
My flesh stolen by thieves
I am left to rot, hating
With a beatless, bloodless heart
That does not feel the touch of love
For me nobody grieves
I am left to earth, grating
With a mindless, soulless grave
That is bare but for one foxglove
But for a lack of solidityA timeless world where cotton kings and queens could cradle,More Like This
but for a lack of solidity.
Where lead laden bases of heavy feather hearts shower with tears
and blanket with softly whispered breath.
A place of promise and freedom,
of crystal clarity scattered with sparks of ethereality,
ever moving, ever changing, ever staying constant,
destined to vision the joys and strife bellow
which they would access ...
but for a lack of solidity.
Dreams of Tonight.More Like This
There is something surreal about dreaming.
I think it has something to do with this inner hunger we all share. This, drive to speak of, that pushes us forward in search of the lost and forgotten, the unknown, and desired.
For example.
I was standing just outside of the bar just past eleven when I saw her walking down the street. She came from smoke that poured through my nostrils, a hallucination, I could only hope. She was blocks away and already I could feel my knees buckling. Knee high boots and a short dress framed the hourglass, her torso. Her hair fell lazily about her face. High cheek bones and hungry eyes were what I imagined f
kiss me babyYour kisses are killing me baby....More Like This
You leave my lips bleeding
Your touch is hurting me baby.....
Bruises bloom where your fingers trail
Your whispers are deafening me baby.....
My heads pounding with your voice
Your breath is suffocating me baby....
You steal my air from me
Your body is crushing me baby....
So I guess that means im yours
Because im intoxicated baby....
As you tear my world apart
So you can bite my lips ...till they are raw
And caress my skin... till it feels sore
And fill my ears... till they speak
You can hold my breath... till I feel weak
Because its already too late
im addicted to this fate
Il let
IndigoShe stepped into the bath, feeling the water part, skimming up her leg as she sank back, watching the steam rise from the surface, tiny droplets swirling in the air, iridescent. She pressed the cold glass to her head, so cold against the hot water covering her, lapping over her shoulders covered by her dark hair. She tossed the cold vodka down her throat, listening to the ice chinking against the glass as the drink burned its way through her. The rhythmic dripping from the leaky tap, which usually irritated her, was surprisingly soothing so she concentrated on it watching the drips falling over her dark violet painted toes.More Like This
Setting the glass
Night boatI'm late for the theatre. Luca guiding usMore Like This
down still lanes, I recline, dip a hand;
cool, sunless flow. Bleached palaces
pass, lovely homes of merchant sires.
In a damp brume, the night is falling.
My departure was recorded by spies,
Luca says, off to alert their masters
the lord-in-exile has left his quarters.
Lanterns lit, we are crossing the city.
There's a monotony to these streets
I don't dislike, and it keeps off tourists.
I shall probably stay the winter over,
though the local girls (and boys) are
not to my taste. But from what future
have I tumbled? My modern heart
backwater-bound. Drinks aboard.
Tonight,
The kiss.......I couldn't help but kiss youMore Like This
My heart couldn't walk away
For me the world stopped turning
By your side I had to stay
I couldn't help but kiss you
I knew that soon I'd have to go
But this heart it couldn't do it
And so my tears began to flow
I couldn't help but kiss you
Perhaps I should have tried
That kiss was just like heaven
Worth every tear that I have cried
I couldn't help but kiss you
That day I lost my heart
Say you'll never leave me
That we wont ever have to part
I couldn't help but kiss you
And that changed everything
In your arms I am complete
To me true happiness you bring
Echos Off My Empty InsidesI can feel this huge space inside of meMore Like This
a space that you use to fill up because
you were with me and I was with you
you did an awesome job at filling me
you gave me laughter and smiles
you gave me lazy days watching clouds
and days where I could do anything
you also gave me days full of rain
days where it wouldn't just sprinkle but pour
and there wasn't any rainbows afterwards
you gave me days that lightning struck my heart
and days that had me staying inside for fear of it all
you gave me sunshine with a storm behind it
you gave me clouds that turned black in front of the sun
and you gave me sparkling dew drops after it all
t
NaPoWriMo 5: We're Still LateWe said we wouldn't do this,More Like This
we promised we'd do better.
But still here we are.
Standing on the edge hurrying,
trying to get it together.
Who are we kidding?
Who are we trying to impress?
We're always going to be late,
though we can still strive to be better.
Even though we'll always be pulling it together.
Rush faster my darling, the hour draws near.
Then we start anew.
A new statement of our commitment.
A new line of words.
But we'll still be late and we both know it.
broken heartedyou know youre heartbroken when...More Like This
you have an actual pain in your chest when you think about the past and realize that its all gone....you'll never have another one of those moments with that person again.
you would rather live in pain for the rest of your life than allow yourself to love someone else.
hope becomes its own bodily reaction, reproduces to fill in cracks of your heart after every encounter you have with that person, and nothing happens.
even just after talking to them for two minutes over nothing makes you want to cry because all you really want to be able to say is "i miss you" but you cant because it would make things wor
Broken HeartHe loves me...More Like This
He loves me not...
He loves me...
He loves me not...
I loved you once...
You loved me not...
I loved you twice...
But I forgot...
'I love you... But you'll never love me...'
You never loved me...
You never will...
But even so...
I love you still...
Forget the times he walked by,
Forget the times he made you cry,
Forget the times he spoke your name,
Remember your feelings arn't the same...
'You leave me here, with my broken heart to bleed.'
Forget the times her held your hand,
Forget the sweet things if you can,
Forget those times and don't pretend,
Remember now he's just a friend...
And you think:
'Will
convenience store diaries 3When I was at work,More Like This
I felt as though I had been Damned.
It was always the same;
No matter the location.
Service the customer,
Sweep and mop,
Face the aisles,
Stock the cooler,
Count the money,
Make the breakfast food,
Clean the bathrooms,
Sweep the lot,
Empty the trash.
Every night;
Brain numbing,
Soul numbing.
Servicing those who were crazed, and
Wanted to rob, fuck or kill you.
While the trains cried in the night
And the nearby highway
yawned its song out
into the blackness
There were roadside theologians,
The meth crowd,
Beer whores,
The battered,
The broken,
The insomniacs,
The maniacs,
The all American boy
My World Without NightmaresIn my mind, I dreamMore Like This
of a world without nightmares.
Where people dont hurt,
And love can never lie to me.
Where my whispers in the dark, Are screams, to those who only listen.
Where people care, and peace shall never die.
A place where this sick little monster in the mirror, is something of beauty.
Where my rage only adds to my mystery,
That when my name is uttered, it is on soft lips of love,
Honeyed with shimmering desire.
But in my world, my world without nightmares,
You don't exist anymore.
...Because you are my living, breathing, nightmare.
You haunt me, a dark and sickening shadow,
A monster in my closet, just waiting for
heart brokenIs there a better place,More Like This
To be right now,
Than to be home,
Listening to the crickets' sounds,
Outside the windows.
Is there a better place,
To be right now,
Than in the bed,
Closing my eyes,
Falling into a deep sleep,
To forget about the days,
Forget about the nights,
Forget about you.
Heartbroken,
Nothing better than to sleep,
To forget that you are gone,
To forget your lies,
Forget the way,
You told me,
You never loved me,
Forget the way,
You looked at me,
When you left me,
I want to forget,
I want to leave this world,
Close my eyes,
Fall to sleep to stop the heart,
From beating.
I block my ears,
From hearing th
BrokenI can’t breatheMore Like This
I want to but no air comes out
I want to speak but no words come out
Why do I feel... hurt?
I feel betray
I feel like love had forgotten me
Like God only help those who have love
My heart hurts
My heart feels like a thousand needles went through my chest
and now it’s bleeding slowly for me to die
Why
Why when I try to move my hands to touch the ground I can't
Touch the ground
Just to know it’s still there
Just to know I am still alive
Broken
I feel like a broken doll
Shatter into pieces
Pieces all over the floor
With no one there to put me back together
...no one...
Will fix me
No one wi
Sta.sh
