To: 4/25 Love, 4/26. Its a sign, I’m meant to write. Everything that went wrong, went right. If singing covers made me money, I would live, breathe and die it. Die if I never touch confusion with my clarity, untangle what they’ve tried to say, each word choice proves sincerity. Bare with me, the ears that deserve to hear, “me too!” If not the same, I’ll...
a poem to a patient… I know they care, it’s written all over their smiles. I pick up all of the pieces, life seems better for a while. Go through all the motions it’s a tough place to be, when you’re stitching back together what’s left of friends and family. I remember laughing, smile with me, sing. These playful gestures, now, only imagined in my dreams. Do I...
"i'll never love again"
How do I explain that I’ve felt this before? An obvious magnetism that, now, appears to be more. I’ve loved, but many-few have felt what I feel like. Have tasted my tongue, indulged in my drink’s spike. A blackout exchange: What’s real and what’s fake? Which pieces convinced us of making mistakes? “I’ll never drink again,” I say, my head confused and...
I woke up. Not as if out of a coma, but as if out of a life shuddering dream. Im conditioned and agile. Risen through fear, dancing in scare. Left laughing, a fool.. Playful but schooled. Im alive.
We are all too aware of the possibility of being observed. The act of living itself is stifled by that knowledge. Because to truthfully experience is to act on the impulse of our subconscious’s interaction with anything and everything we come in contact with. Its almost as if learning is what ruins us. That the mind is as much it’s elixir as it is it’s kryptonite. That man...
I’m feeling a vibrating, hyper aware sense of living. A consciousness of cognizance… played with in my dream world, (r)apidly practiced as my (e)yes (w)hirl. Through this movement a frequented lucid… As if to press a button, aware of what the result is; as if to know exactly how to activate and dissolve fits. To wake at whim, a vital, verbal ventilate; speak sequential submits,...
You are a talented, sexy as hell, little piece of heaven; bursting with love,...– M. S. Murphy #quoteworthycompliment
‘We’ being the ‘we’s’ that this refers to. Not to be confused with those who throw away everything to shape how strong they are. We hold on to people, grip them to protect us from our fears and insecurities. Our relationships begin to shape how strong we are, how satisfied we’ve become. Any piece forcefully disassembled from this structure could send us...
Relaxing is such a beautiful task
—San Jose bus station— It seems I make friends everywhere I go. We haven’t even exchanged names and he’s already bought me dinner and a beer. Sir, you are making me forget to remember… and I applaud you at your success. Its making all the photographs I’ve kept burn away from my hoarding head. He said, “you’re not forgetting anything important;...
Falling asleep to your figure.
I wish you weren’t so stubborn. I crave to touch your skin. Starving for your sketches, temporarily traced inside my head. As I’d paint in tactile colors, the music of your breath, I’d be fed with the dance of taste and touch and scent until we slept.
You’re beautiful. The music plays and you are blooming, dancing in it. Between familiar sounds you sway, an energy surrounding you. Hello, Pretty girl… Keep inhaling the world. Ex haling what turns you mad, you observe what holds your soul. You’re in love. Its beautiful. And It’s sad. It makes me wonder… What is beautiful? And if You are then why do I...
Desire is my favorite emotion. A wild one, fueled by pleasure, burning in satisfaction. Mastered pieces ashed, Done. Satisfaction is my new favorite emotion.
An intellectual says a simple thing in a hard way. An artist says a hard thing...– Charles Bukowski
A long night and beautiful morning of a person.
July 15 She came quickly; like the wind, packing her things and spinning from person to place. This is how I remember her; Her chaotic organization and restless hands. Her gaze saturated my avoiding eyes, splashing them violently when met. It was touch, sense memory, that set me free. The desire to satisfy with what used to satisfy me. The rain tastes different in summertime. Still, I’ll...
July 13, 2012
Recently, the ways you express your creativity and uniqueness have been changing quite dramatically, dear Sagittarius, and your relationships with love interests as well. Your attractions are breaking your norm, and while you may be acting out at times, ultimately you are discovering a new dimension of yourself.
I just want to hit you in the face. Grab on to every impulse that denies me. Quit trying to fight me! What once lived now dies in front of me. A walking carcass of twisted meanings You see me only as your threat.
I’m a fan of uninviting a declining invitee.– MM
How would I quote a nameless man?
All I can remember, are blurs of hair, and sheets, and skin. I’m taking you in.
Life is not Art; Art is a version of life. Art illuminates life.– ______
I love when I’m stoned on the train, when I almost miss my stop. Being captivated, activated by art. You amaze me. Words escape me. Time in slow motion. A freeze frame of colorful music. Understood and misconstrued. Viewed.
Language. Your lips move, tongue tying knots, eyes intertwined- words and mind. To translate. To Speak, draw pictures with your sound— My ears transposing every verse- from body and from mouth. Yelling through your shaping shifts. Laughing lines your lips. Tell me. Tell me of this Prince. You read. And I listen. I love to listen. To hear how we speak. To observe the most...
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Its a great group of people. All evenly spaced in their patterns of waste. Away. From states of mind refused to wind and intertwine. Irrelevant. Unimportant. Alone
I want to write a book for you. I want to unfold your mind and wrap it in words. In language… You. You are a language. You are breath and no breath. I laugh, you are death and no death. Fact. It’s so funny how durable you are. I want to drop you just to pick you back. Throw flesh towards wall... You’d like that, laugh.
You are like a lightbulb in a world of moths… people are just drawn to...– Carolyn Clem
I want you to know that ill be here. Even when you don’t remember my name. And when anyone tries to question your sane ill smile; laugh at their mistake. I promise you, my patience will never cease. Ill sync to your needs, please! Don’t leave me waiting in my dream. To tear through time, through touch, through mind, to wake what used to seem. What does this mean, to seem? Based on...
The scariest thing for me is when colors interchange in my mind. When melodies begin to reek a tasteless aroma. A coma. Of misdirection and disconnection. Me. Pressed against the foggy window of reality, turning solid from my breath. Locking me in a land of yellow reds and turning heads. I scream. “Save me!” But I have no voice and no choice but to stay.
To fly asleep
How long have I known you? The size of a dream? It seams.. I’m begging you To keep your eyes closed
You’re making it up as you go, what do you mean that’s all you know?– MMM
to be necessity..
ne·ces·si·ty [nuh-ses-i-tee] 1. an imperative requirement or need for something 2. the state or fact of being necessary or inevitable 3. an unavoidable need or compulsion to do something
You speak in images; curtained lips. Pictures breathing on their trip. I wonder. If the colors that I taste resemble those that saturate your textured tongue Our malleable minds, combined.