Tuesday, May 29, 2007

scrabble at thiry-below

Horoscope: 5.15.2007: There are good possible outcomes to negative solutions, look at the big picture...

still, i throw paint thinner
across this already blurred canvas
just to see my self-portrait

I walk jacket less into the freezing
cold which will eventually make me emotionally

but at least now i feel
a bold sense of "self-inflicted"

this water in my lungs leaves
me drowning or better yet

upside down
without a snorkelers

these bubbles burn my eyes as i
try to draw distinctive parallels between


assumed thoughts so neatly pressed
and scrabble boards make for tight

one we secretly hope to lose
but more so want to

you lost your trust but
you'll never shed how in this wintered

i lost my tears but
you'll never see how because icicles can't

and from this bullet proof vest i
pull strings from my

in tight-rope forms to your reach with
a fifty-fifty chance i'll loose my

but i have good stability
and i am willing to

like soldiers who volunteer for
hazardous war-time

and openly place
themselves in this perilous

in this battlefield, together with a
foreseen knowledge of what we could

we step into this
freezer so our hearts stay

Monday, May 7, 2007

unintentional skydiving.

one-handed perspectives and interesting
parallels drawn across the parallels of your tired
wrists reveal bankrupt resolutions and ordinary images that secretly
do away with your motivated and intentional
motives and intentions

...and while you questionably broaden your concepts with
words from your covered eyes, I sit on the ground
and cough up my heart into the safeways of your configured legs.

lights melt as you and I watch the trees form.
we listen to words without sound so softly out
of soft lips, and without sure feelings
we quietly walk into blizzards of objections and new extensions

resolutions counter-act theories upon this unclear glass table,
it makes sense, it makes comfort and
while i lay up and you lay down,
I assemble myself accordingly to fit
your book of directions.

for now, in this abstracted canvas of distortion....
lets sit
lets stay
hip to hip on this broken fence of executed decisions,
and watch our worlds crumble around us.

Sunday, May 6, 2007

"...with tired eyes and tired minds...we slept."

Casual chains and plausible accounts
act as interpretive deviations to your
significance of freedom.

With both feet stuck in this pragmatic ground
you draw clear representations
of cranes and linear skyscrapers
while laboring for your happiness
to rot the soil.

Personal preservation retires to miserable
existence and blurs important distinctions between
who and what you are.

stabling your stance.

You tilt your head back and sigh
as you escape
into exile.


Considering the abstract questions,
You search for desperate definitions.

No regards to compliance, no belief in assumptions.
Directed towards directions of no critical consumptions.

Fine details aim discussions,
Underlying meanings hidden in downbeat percussion.

You point
I stare.

Templates Written for Geometry.

Strong intentions and implied definitions,
you sit in a head-hand curve

You've arranged this
fatal accident

Disoriented, you sketch
circles around happiness,
but only have enough

This is what we know about Slurpees.

Warm enough to be cold,
with accommodations to a heart...
which no longer works.

Your retractable arteries,
coil like snakes...
while I succumb to your venomous injections.

Self-portraits and desireless actions,
make temporary statements...
attractive and permanent.

Unravel your insecurities
...and infect me with your disease.

Garbage Can Accusations.

Sketches of

Bend you in all of

Self-righteous sacrifices for the sake

Holds no valid statements

Personal worth is the

Who am I to pose


Coincide with open minds irrelevant

Done Spellchecking.

Draw a line... then erase it.
Experience just enough to taste it.
Not liked, no likes, who likes achievement?
Education is only good to people and how they receive it.

Sketch a circle... but don't let it close.
Experimentation essentials to the indisposed.
Hit this, drink that, Rat Race Execution.
Individuality given up to it's prosecution.

Form a square... four corners and all.
Make sure all outlooks are indoors and small.
Judge me, hate you, grade my personal worth.
Make sure all human texture is kept fully submersed.

...could've lived like skyscrapers.

Casual connections meet all the vague requirements
of intentional contributions.

Two-way streets have no meanings without
stoplights and road signs.

Who says the high speed chase
isn't any better.

sinking like a perhaps.

emotions foreseen
but unintended.
a doctrine
of double effects.
your definitions bind
weak promises to even weaker hearts.
not even this imaginary doctor
can save your cancerous contentions.


a strong and weak sense.
assume your basic correctness
to disguise intentional actions.
imaginary examples become
prerequisites to consequences.
head machine is empty and
the generator is out of life.

A Soldier Covers a Live Hand Grenade

an occupant of an overloaded lifeboat,
you burn yourself to death
to express all plausible
throw yourself overboard
in order to prevent yourself from sinking.

Box Set Tapes

With one eye open,
you squint to hide
irrelevance of the first consideration.

The variables and factors...
each set of me
acts as determinants of what ought to be.

who finds himself in need of
a safe and painless route
recognize my failure to meet your definitions.


Conveniently defined
your thoughts
meet your mouth
in the foreground of perspective
lateral decision.
The palms of your eyes make me easy and leave a bruise
you hang yourself from ropes
of broken propositions
and leave yourself to dangle
from speculated outcomes.

And This Sun Goes Dim.

these proposed definitions,
yielding to hypothetical results.

you carefully measure
lines through my defective heart.

Myles Hearts Math

Full Circles
circulate into

ideas form
in your mind...

of worldly views only shows attributes

...operation in
Acute Angles
you manage to form a perfect
ninety degrees

Building Castles Out of Matchsticks.

have a striking paradigm,
Blindly assuming this sin you call fashion-
is more than just a trend.
Quality control and frequent exterminations-
weigh down
this kite
of present goals...
Dried aspirations and
decaying mentality
leave your soil rough and useless

Raftboats and Seagulls

Life is a value to be performed.
Eat human experimentation
...and with this token...
We will float above trees

Kitchen Motor Tour

through this field of "normality"
your individuality to it's secret box
is now genetically infused


feelings irrelevant.
we slide into this integrated
swamp of insecurity's hungry monsters.

deficient of love...

we swim towards the side
and grip safe ground.

Mounds of Clay

We wage our fight,
hungry for natural disintegration.
Forming parameters and parabolas
of enlightenment along the way.
we step off of our minds and into our
greatest insecurities

Morality Exists in the Minds of the Moral

With your positive euthanasia
you leave me indirectly willed.


With my will to end
I will the means.
Your inexorable dehumanization
acts of commission to this tragic "crash"
you call yourself

Once a Shiny Morning...

Universalized or Absolutized.
you are a frequent diagnosis...
With your diseased super-ego
You rarely leave any record
...to explain my reflected response.

Impersonal Abstractions

this canard has lodged
itself deeply into the lonely crowd
typologies of merely impersonal abstraction
I throw in my remaining chips.

A False Turning Point

...and I am
a dying baptism of
your subversive property rights,
to deny this is to deny integrity.
reduce me to my appendages,
and in an invisible ignorance...
begin my consequential crucifixion.

Cardinal Richelieu

with these pages of our history,
hallowed yet somber
we dig our graves at the crossroads.
so free my persons of your dignity,
starve my heart of your thoughts
sign and date my prescription
to be alone.

Thursday, May 3, 2007

"Everywhere and Nothing In Between"

Countless hours render tired eyes.
This is my life
The speedways make ways for ways that no one ever knows
The detours of the past tighten seat belts for the future
No armor goes unbolted.
This is my life, the sad and sullen sighs of
People as they sleep in uncomfortable predicaments and insecurities
The future didn’t warn us about grey skies and tired eyes
Hallucinations and mixed media cloud the brain with thoughts
Of hurt and misconceptions.
It rained today, but puddle hops and moons within the crevasse of buildings
weave our thoughts together. This is now
Banded hearts and unforgotten heartaches reap at the door of opportunity
Never coming in but enjoying the silhouette your body makes
On the window panes of foggy days.
This is my life, no past left for the present. No present left so the past tends to taint the future.
Stomach cramps and chocolate milk shields the insecurities of hungry groans,
This is my life, empty like dumpsters after consumptions erase memories
You circle and wave like the pendulum you get your height from
Making swings from my arteries that once connected to my heart,
But now are just too hard to pick up slack.
Armoral isn’t good for the dashboard, but it keeps it clean and spotless.

as we know it

Coarse gears grind quickly,
Humans, machines strain to death.
Economy blooms


Words for the heart, no expression from the mouth
So many secrets needed to expel out.
Emotions rampant, concealed in a box
Too many late nights, induced insufficient talks.
A long run-away, trains meaningless goodbye,
This is the story of you and I
Righteous judgments, nothing too close
Heaven forbid we somehow make the most
Of this, of the now, and of where we will be
This is the story of you and me
Hardships. Trials, lets try it out
Succeed and conquer without a doubt
Alexithmia, I heard it today,
Two days before you went away.

And now you’re gone. Goodbye.


She never really thought about it,
Tonight it just seemed right.
She never really thought about it,
Cold hands gripped razors tight.
She never really though about it,
This would be the end.
She never really though about it,
The break and not the bend.
She never really thought about it,
White lights and golden gates.
She never really thought about it,
Who gets to come too late.
She never really thought about it,
The last day she took her breath
Today she really thought about it,
Today she reached her death.

Worries and sadness overcome happy hearts,
Like hands gripped around a wrench.
With each tightening of the screw,
Comes a blood much thicker than before.
Grey eyes grow tired and thoughts grow weak

Dodonda Research

Raw is what I want to be
Raw is what I am
Raw is how I want to live
Raw doesn’t give a damn

Raw is where I want to go
Raw is how I feel
Raw is what you see in me
When we both know it’s not real

Raw is how I rip my soul
Raw is what I like
Raw is nothing more to you
Then something you recite.

To be raw is controversial
To be raw is what we need
Raw is what is deep inside
When you make my heart bleed…

To be raw…



Eat your heart out little one,
Disease comes in the morning.

The scale tips as your heart falls
Fingers push to purging

Eat your soul out little one
You’re much better when you’re dying

Beauty comes as bones protrude
Organs shrivel and your still crying

Eat perfection, dying one
Morning never comes