Sunday, July 4, 2010

Faites l'attention!

Have you ever dreamed about drowning in ashes
Of burnt bodies
Of cremated cities?

It's an interesting phrase
"drowning in ahses"
I think it's the name of a band.


blood leaks from my fingers
anxiety sings from the blood
and the blood, oh it shivers from the anxiety.

sweat beads accumulate on the raw skin
of my anxious fingers
from my bleeding song.

And my mother always told me
not to pick my cuticles
right before she'd puff her pipe
right before she'd clear the bong.

Sunday, June 27, 2010


when you look for meaning in everything, everything becomes meaningless

Every body is
When you know them

they can easily be

Well Ain't That A Bitch

I hate the pain
of loving...

I hate the pain
of not...

My Little Friend Would Like This

For the biggest part of me
I can't understand

Why i grieve the loss of a bee
Before i grieve the loss of a man


I’m surrounded by fog
Too thick to see through

I can hardly breathe
Hardly think
Hardly be

Eventually, maybe
Some day I’ll escape

But for now I think I’ll just sleep

How am i doing?

I’m dealing with the loss
Of a friend
And a best friend

Irony is
I’ve lost them both
To other people

this needs a title...

I built a house atop a hill, and made it glorious and mine.

I sat by the window watching the stormy waves crash against the cliffs.
I listened to the plump rain drops splatter against the glass.
And I was thankful.

The sun woke me to a new day; its gentle rays embraced me with the deepest love one could know.
My heart and mouth unified in a smile.
My skin sang and my soul echoed.

And the ground shook.
The sky cracked.
The light dissipated with a grey-blue backdrop.

I watched my arched ceiling concave.
I felt dust from the drywall flutter into my eyes.
I pulled the pillow over my head and let the dark encompass me.

Recovered I stand-
Atop a hill of trash
Atop a hill split in two

…Atop my glorious rubble of which I’ll make mine

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

Fattened with gratification
You ooze emerald and avidity

The sweat beads are plummeting from your thick brow
They splatter, oily and pearlesque with fruitful intention

Crevasses between rolls milky in touch and stench
You’re a sick pig of satisfaction…

Soon enough your eyes will blacken and your flesh will flay

Friday, January 22, 2010

Dating is for anyone- Loving is for few.....

When you lose trust in yourself everything else goes out the


Sunday, January 17, 2010


We're all living in a fantasy world attempting to exist in a point in time passed...