| snail tale |
[06 Dec 2009|12:01am] |
i wiggled my fingers at him as if they were some sort of antennae. "look! i've got feelers!" i exclaimed.
"you can't have feelers!" he scoffed. "you don't have a heart."
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| wala |
[01 Dec 2009|01:14pm] |
wala akong masabi, sapagkat wala akong magawa.
wala kang pakundangan, sapagkat wala ka namang pakialam.
at walang mapagbibintangan, sapagkat walang may kasalanan.
tanong mo sa akin, "bakit tayo nawala?"
at ang sagot ko sa iyo'y, "wala lang."
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| cutting your corners |
[15 Oct 2009|09:42pm] |
perhaps, more than i do, only you know
the ripples of your navel,
the warmth of your armpits,
the back of your ears,
the edges of your lips,
the stories to your scars.
perhaps, more than i do, only you know
what's beneath your tongue,
between your teeth,
between your toes and fingers,
between the strands of your hair,
between the hinges of your thighs.
but perhaps, more than you do, only i know
the moles on your back,
the pain in your eyes,
the things you mutter in your sleep,
the sound of your beating heart,
the way you feel.
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| recovery |
[01 Sep 2009|06:57am] |
soft hearts just bounce about when dropped.
callous ones usually thud heavily on the floor.
but it's the brittle ones that really break.
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| touch |
[30 Aug 2009|04:07am] |
sometimes, she pads on armor so nobody can touch her.
she wears a deep shade of red lipstick, to avoid kissing, and being kissed.
she wears a wig that she always tries to keep in place, to avoid hugging, and being hugged.
she wears a studded collar, that pricks whoever touches her neck.
she keeps a bottle in one hand, and a cigarette in the other, to avoid shaking hands.
because a small touch can be fatal- it can ruin your entire evening. it can ruin your entire life.
sometimes, you can look, but you can't touch.
sometimes, you can touch, but you can't taste.
sometimes, you can taste, but you can't swallow.
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| positions |
[29 Aug 2009|09:53am] |
"get behind me, satan!" he yelled.
the demon simply laughed and replied, "wouldn't it be easier if you just turned around?"
she used to sleep with her back against him, wrapped in his arms.
eventually they both found it more comfortable to sleep facing each other.
lately though, she noticed, he always turned his back on her when they slept.
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| nothing |
[26 Aug 2009|01:57am] |
we wipe our iniquities with the paper towels of purgatory. then we wonder if sins really wash off that easily.
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| cocktail of devastation |
[26 Aug 2009|01:12am] |
half a shot of apple.
half a shot of gray.
a single shot of buckley.
a single shot of rice.
a dash of amos.
and slice of mann.
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| horizontal |
[27 Jul 2009|08:16pm] |
my chest has been hurting since last night. it felt full, stretched out, and taut like a water balloon. this morning, i felt that whenever i would lie down, some of the water leaked out silently through my eyes. i lay there for a while and then figured it wasn't going to stop anytime soon, so i stood up again. i paced the room for a while, looked at some photographs, lit a cigarette, and set myself up with another rum and coke.
an hour or two passed. the sun was up high in the sky when i realized that it was way past my bedtime already. the clock said it was eleven in the morning, so i decided to turn in.
as soon as i set my head upon the pillow though, water started spilling, trickling slowly out of my eyes again. i got up, had a couple more cigarettes and did some reading. my eyes don't seem to leak when i'm positioned vertically.
it was already one in the afternoon when i decided that i was too sleepy to function, and to once and for all brave my damp pillow. i piled on a few more pillows on top of the damp one to prop me up in a somewhat diagonal way. that seemed to help- and although water started seeping out again, the trickle was reduced to just drops dribbling down one side of my face. everything became blurry. i fell asleep at around two o'clock.
my chest still hurt when i woke up this evening, and it still feels weird now. i'm annoyed by the fact that the brine in me just seeps out when i'm lying down. i wonder if it'll all spill out faster if i gouged my eyes out. or maybe it'll be easier to drain if i did the hanged man position and hung myself upside down. personally, i'm entertaining the possibility that it just might evaporate, too. now how long that'll take, i don't know.
i know that i should get some sleep soon- in fact i'm a little sleepy already. it's just that i'm not sure if i'm ready to lie down just yet. you see, keeping your head over your heart during bedtime is not always easy.
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| like lego. |
[27 Jul 2009|12:30am] |
painting is for me, personally, constructing imagery from words and ideas.
writing on the other hand, is breaking imagery down into words and ideas.
lately i think, i've been breaking more stuff.
it might do me some good to paint again.
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| blanket |
[24 Jul 2009|07:59pm] |
last night i slumbered in a bubble of cloth. it was blown up inside, to the shape of a heart.
i was a ventricle, and so was he.
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| tick tock, lover. |
[23 Jul 2009|09:39am] |
11:11 is over.
and when the clock strikes twelve, you lose a slipper.
wishes run out, and it's time to take cover.
midnight is when we decide, whether to say good morning or good night.
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| the archipelago of kisses |
[15 Jul 2009|11:35am] |
|
We live in a modern society. Husbands and wives don't grow on trees, like in the old days. So where does one find love?
When you're sixteen it's easy, like being unleashed with a credit card in a department store of kisses. There's the first kiss. The sloppy kiss. The peck. The sympathy kiss. The backseat smooch. The we shouldn't be doing this kiss. The but your lips taste so good kiss. The bury me in an avalanche of tingles kiss. The I wish you'd quit smoking kiss. The I accept your apology, but you make me really mad sometimes kiss. The I know your tongue like the back of my hand kiss.
As you get older, kisses become scarce. You'll be driving home and see a damaged kiss on the side of the road, with its purple thumb out. If you were younger, you'd pull over, slide open the mouth's red door just to see how it fits. Oh where does one find love? If you rub two glances, you get a smile. Rub two smiles, you get a warm feeling. Rub two warm feelings and presto-you have a kiss.
Now what? Don't invite the kiss over and answer the door in your underwear. It'll get suspicious and stare at your toes. Don't water the kiss with whiskey. It'll turn bright pink and explode into a thousand luscious splinters, but in the morning it'll be ashamed and sneak out of your body without saying good-bye, and you'll remember that kiss forever by all the little cuts it left on the inside of your mouth.
You must nurture the kiss. Turn out the lights. Notice how it illuminates the room. Hold it to your chest and wonder if the sand inside hourglasses comes from a special beach. Place it on the tongue's pillow, then look up the first recorded kiss in an encyclopedia: beneath a Babylonian olive tree in 1200 B.C.
But one kiss levitates above all the others. The intersection of function and desire. The I do kiss. The I'll love you through a brick wall kiss. Even when I'm dead, I'll swim through the Earth, like a mermaid of the soil, just to be next to your bones.
--Jeffrey McDaniel
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| good night |
[05 Jul 2009|11:20pm] |
i'll see you there,
in slumberland,
sleep tight, sweet dreams,
good night.
you'll find me
all amidst the blue
upon a bed
of white.
i'll lie in wait
upon a cloud-
the first one on
your right.
don't worry, love,
i will be there-
an anchor to
a kite.
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| patience |
[27 Jun 2009|07:05pm] |
"i cannot afford to be destroyed by you every other day. i just can't. if we keep this up, i won't survive." said the boy.
"let's go at a slower pace then." replied the girl. "from now on, i promise to only hurt you once a week. eventually, just once a month. then once a year. after that maybe, once in ten years. then once per century. then just once every millenia. until the gaps exponentially grow to last forever. then one day, you won't get hurt anymore."
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| humpty dumpty aftermath |
[27 Jun 2009|04:34pm] |
humpty dumpty sat on a wall.
humpty dumpty had a great fall.
and all the king's horses,
and all the kings men,
couldn't put humpty,
together again.
there sat beside him on the wall,
a small, long haired porcelain doll.
and she felt quite lonely,
and she felt quite sad-
stared at dear humpty,
at the fate he had.
and so went the porcelain doll,
tumbling down that very same wall.
and boy did she fall,
and crash, and shatter,
but that didn't hurt,
that didn't matter.
because though suicide seemed bad,
there was much in common they had.
it was impossible
that you not think of,
how they could not have,
not fallen in love.
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| oh. |
[23 Jun 2009|04:24am] |
"this defies the laws of attraction," i said.
"well," it replied. "we never studied law.""
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| danger |
[06 Jun 2009|12:11am] |
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oh. just when i thought things couldn't get any worse.
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