F for Failure - October 26, 2008

This fortitude of peril that has been erected around my feeble fortress

forces the foundations of my fickle feelings 

to cause follies in this short and simple flight.  

Life, and all it's fascinations flounder 

before the fervent fall of my fallible dignity--

which resides upon my feathered and powdered face.

Falsify the fervent failings of my feelings.

Fervently, I'm flailing to foster some sort of

fashionable fiasco to fill the transparency in my features.

Features of Failing - October 13, 2008

Process

until the words come clear

multitudes of monotonous marvels

I'm not confused anymore.

No matter the minute

No head to the hour

No matter the inhalation--

we're smoke.

Out the ashen waters of goodbye--

I couldn't drown.  I wouldn't die.

Process

until the tide subsides

until the simple stories shift apart

falling to my frozen and forged face,

forcing from it features of failing and falling.

Untitled Blurbs (that may or may not turn into anything)- October 13, 2008

(1) 

You hit me across the face

so hard

I could feel your fist in the blood

deep within the fetus of my futile 

and flawless... 

(2)

its easy t smile

day by day

and every song still reminds me of you

but to me i'm untrue.

its easy to lie

its easy to softly save myself

from the stumble

as i gracefully tumble into another 

sort of step

it's easy to admit to the world

that i miss you

that 'i guess that's okay'

but every song still reminds me of you

and every word still compares to you

and every face still resembles -- or doesn't -- resemble you

so, i'm a wretched person,

but so were you.

two of a kind

lovingly blind

it's easy to fake what i've played all along.  

(3)

chocolate curls

sensitive girls

virginal world

in jaded, dirt pearls

(4)

suck from me

your dreaming dreamer's guilt

i know the game

the seemingly seamless shift.

(5)

when I was soft

i didn't realize that love

could be so sour.

the bottle turned

the tannins fierce

and flawed upon my tongue

fortitude has fallen

and I lay each night in helplessness

I'm tearing at dreams that

don't seem hardly mine

but they were

once upon a time

a long ago. a far...

(6)

For a few days now

I've been using the wrong pen.

I can't get your eyes out of my skin.

I can't get your gaze out of my breath,

Your arms off from around my livelihood.

Oh let me go,

   just let me go.

I keep ending this sentence,

I keep turning to new pages...

Your ink seeping through,

you've ruined my epic

distorted the tale.

I'm falling on follies

and failing to free the

fanciful facets of the 

fear fostered faith.

Oh let me go.  Just let me go.

Shattered beneath

is the place where I've died

but since you won't leave--remain here--

I'm dry.

(7)

It's occurred to me tonight

and over

and over

that despite all the insight

left upon me

I still fumble freely

and fail to ignite.

(8)

it's easy to cheapen

to become what they want

in the moment

the moment

the moment

its easy to wander, to stray from the path

and simple to do what you're asked.

it's easy and simple

to simply be sad, sunken, shrapnel

of their wounds upon you

and when dust reveals 

your old sooty scars

who's going to rise 

to hold you back up?

Our Death - October 13, 2008

Your hand through my core

my blood sliding seemlessly

to envelop you--

your tongue tasting tones

in the tangible tannic

texture of the thousand terraces

turning around my mind.

And when I wake...

the scars are slight

but the bruising burns.

For from my garden we have fallen

and from those thorns we rain

and drain the last of our fragile forevers.

[Untitled] - September 13, 2008

I was up 'till two

worrying about you

you wished you were dead

thats what you had said...

the words that you'd bled

from inside your head

as the water you tread

envelopes us like dread.

funny how things rhyme

as we lose all sense of time

and from our hearts climb

the essence of effort's grime...

[Untitled] - August 09, 2008

Are there happy poems left?

...or am I to awaken endlessly

to nightmare visions of what I wish to write.

Rape me.

Control me.

Contort me.

Are there peaceful people left?

...or is my anger and my

dripping disvalue to dote fondlessly upon me.

Beat me.

Misuse me.

Abuse me.

I've Been Too Tired To Write - August 09, 2008

The soft edged haze of light

has faded

and in it's place

been traded,

leaving behind no trace,

with a jaded 

heart's disgrace.