Color Wheel

November 14, 2007

I miss your blue cashmere coat

Your black Honda CRX

Our white bird house

The yellow dollhouse doorbell

Your moments of pink compassion

That seem to have been replaced

by this sea-green depth between us.

boiled eggs

I am realizing a great many things these days

like the 

should have dealt with this differently feelings

of unsophistication 

that accompany

the filling of voids with 

drunken desperate fucks

on late lonely Saturday nights

and hazy early Sunday mornings

rife with ulterior motives

and hiding true feelings

with a thin veil of 

Cool Hand Luke indifference

slipping through the floor boards

when the warden ain't lookin'

the "i don't want anything serious" lies 

told when one knows they have 

failed

and been cast aside

thrown away

the unwanted 

wanting so much

having no idea what we really want 

at all

wishing we could eat 50 boiled eggs 

to prove our worth

ain't nobody can eat 50 eggs.

sanity

I want that right-brained brilliance

that accompanies mental illness.

That invisible inner-cerebral muse

whispering a poetic genius.

I want that megalomania -

The imagined greatness

born of melancholy

raised by decades

and immortalized in anthologies.

The sexual deviancy in the past

that haunts and whispers

"write

write

write

and be brilliant."

Late Nights (a haiku)

It is scary how

little it actually

has to do with love.

April 24

It is daily now that I am struck by the beauty of the world surrounding me.
I have skipped classes for dread of going indoors.
I have seen bees soar above my head in a mating dance
that is intricate and violent
passionate and dangerous.
I have felt the love of the sun on my shoulders until it was seared in.
Only the sting at night to remind me of its warmth in the day.

Sometimes I care so much that it hurts
it overwhelms me
and makes me helpless.
Sometimes I want the relief and refuge of indifference.
The burdenless beauty of self-centeredness.
If only I could pretend that the world was a centrifuge spinning endlessly around me.
That I was the eye of the storm - everyone else an inconsequential raindrop.

It must never hurt to be self-centered.
To never feel the ache of empathy,
the incurable sadness of mourning for another's pain,

the hard sting of beauty

the inadequacy of words.

vegetarianism

I hated it when my mama would pan-fry hamburgers

the smell would crawl up the stairs and settle into

every fiber of my carpet and clothing.

You have woven yourself into my life

every photo and ticket stub

you have crawled up my legs and settled into my mind.

You sneer out from every poster on my walls

every blanket on my bed

every intersection

every movie theater

and restaurant

and i want to hate you

like the greasy smell of

dead frying meat.

flight

I almost cried when i realized

that airplanes held no more

magic for me.

A strategic combination of

fuel and speed and

aerodynamics.

No longer the alchemy of people

in the sky

where they don't belong.