where my eyes cease to look

If I may,

through ye rivers

through ye trees

it is you who have suffered

by the hand of me

with starlets faded

and trumpets drowned

ye murky streams

stood idle

held fast in winter sounds

– you’re a river –

ancient winnings left unsung

you’re my peer, my equal

yet you still leave me stung 

ye valley, ye hillside, ye marbled dismay

covered in oleander

onward ye May

ye gargling, ye moving, ye ponderous brook 

(struck through me!)

a center it took

“Tear me to pieces

cut out where my eyes cease to look”

and just then will they open to see

the face of summer laughing at me

with eyes open wide 

my love it did wander

for bitter I was

my heart it did squander:

ye forest, ye mountain, ye breeze

ye sunglass driving, ye proliferate bees.

Suppose I am the offspring of thine shepherd:

you are the hunt,

that which I am after.

and with the fall comes the rapid convergence:

mine sweet love’s resurgence

But once again the autumn leaves took

to a different stream or babbling brook

and forevermore I am wandering in a forest ever stranger

of perilous rot

and cavernous danger

All that which a summer could bring!

but once again I am searching for a longer sting

and what of the prospect? What this winter will bring!

while more I could say might strengthen the pressure 

I leave with you no words, no rhyme, no measure

that might contrast mine song of May

it tingles, it trickles, and just may delight

in telling a story of our precarious plight

with the sincerest intentions on an immeasurable scale,

all that you’re left with is a tacky email

and no words, no sermons, no divine light

could bring you back the way it would 

into my life.

minutes later you answer:

true love is true love’s killer

Credit: https://www.metmuseum.org/toah/works-of-art/1992.5112/
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iCARus

if this car dings at me one more time

if another ding reverberates through my ears

i swear to god

have i missed something? does the whole world revolve around this car’s dire need for washer fluid?

well you know heckin what, car

i dont care that your washer level is low

i dont care that your tire pressure is a potential threat to my safety

i dont care that maintenance was required a substantial amount of months ago

or that your entire existence rests on trying to prohibit me from listening to Wait Wait… Don’t Tell Me!

(finally some much needed radio silence, my normally needy car gives me a breather, i turn into 89.3 KPCC like any self-important masochist. ahhhh. how lucky i am to tune into the sweet sweet sonorous sound of the voice of Peter Sagal the host of NPR’s greatest and only radio game show. my car obviously understands the pleasurable tones created by the one and only Bill Kurtis, the narrator of this great weekly hour of radio. and my car picks now as the perfect time to send a certifiable fuck ton of alerts, ranging from topics as important as aforementioned washer fluid or that the car is in need of a software update, blaring through my car speakers. now quite honestly i didn’t know cars could even have software updates, let alone that they were so important that i should miss an important line of NPR’s most high-quality comedic banter, but i swear to all the gods that may be, if this self important piece of german engineering chimes at me again there will be a germany sized whole in the continent known as europe)

your chorus of chimes and beeps and brrrungs remind me the second i turn the key that my seat belt should be on. i was just about to put it on, but obviously im not quick enough for you and your quarter of a second delay.

a vehicle is anything that moves or transports. this car is more something that annoys me more than OSX updates.

(OSX updates that the lovely folks at apple think are priority numero uno, however we know this to be false, i have to put new windshield wiper fluid in my car.)

forgive me oh state farm for i have sinned i have wronged mine car. my car that moves or transports like it is meant to; that roars and tears into its intricacies, generating a herd of horses to move or transport me to and from school; that pairs, through the magic that is bluetooth, to my phone bringing me summer reading audio books as well as crosby, stills, nash, and young all the same.

my car which takes me to coffee and groceries, that supplies a warm butt in the mornings and cool AC in the afternoon.

you defrost thine own windows, you display thine own manual. you know thine own tire pressure, you never cease to tell me about it.

you’re a mechanical beast that does so much more than moving and transporting. you purr when you idle, content to cool and blast NPR. you roar when i press on the gas in neutral by accident. and you alert me with hope in your chime about the absence of washer fluid in your stores.

but you, oh vehicle of my dreams, oh vehicle my parents so rarely let me drive, you annoy me so deeply and to the core i am tempted to just walk.

On the Allure of the Sun

staring at the brick – patiently waiting for the moment it enters my skull- a fucking cinder block going 300 mph
no questions, no time for questions
but somehow im waiting
and i can feel the absence of my head
even as nothing has changed

somehow you know the feeling after you have eaten the vole before you have eaten it
how is it going to affect your human digestive system, a raw vole
it remains a mystery,
but somehow you know exactly what that’s going to feel like,
in the abyss of your body
the part that’s not there, but has just as much feeling as the inside of your toes

raw inspiration in the form of a clawing headache– a vole climbing out of the wreckage of a human skull ravaged by a cinder block traveling at speeds uncharacteristic for construction materials

a story with no end: inspiration is,
a one night stand
climax but no shoulder to latch onto
full of unintentional emotion.

mind matter @ midnight

one more week… how insane.

i’m in such a state of limbo,

i don’t know if i’m going to be longing to come back soon.

next year, this school won’t be my place anymore.

my room will be somebody else’s moldy problem.

my friends will be all around the world,

too far away.

i hope this summer is an easy one.

i need a good transition from high school to college.

i want to write and travel and make new friends and read a shit ton of books.

 he time that’s been romanticized in books and movies is here and it’s zipping by! 

oh, what a world i live in.

the butterfly

at first, all i saw was a butterfly.

it was flying above the grass at the park, i was having a picnic.

it was pretty and it was green .

not grass green, but lime green.

then, i remembered that green was the color of your room before you redecorated it last summer

and then i saw your room and what it used to look like before you thought your drawings were stupid and before you decided you liked purple more.

from there, i saw you and how you looked last week and then how you made me laugh really hard the other night.

then, i thought if we will ever go anywhere.

and then i think about other people who might be more exciting than you, but how you’re nice too.

i think about my friend’s friend and how maybe he’s fun to talk to.

then, i get going on conversations.

i remember that i want to meet an aquarius, because i heard that they are really compatible with gemini’s and

what i really think i need right now is someone i’m compatible with.

no more of this taurus-virgo bullshit!

but, she’s a taurus and he’s a capricorn.

i think that maybe they’ll be the exception, but, in the back of my mind, i know neither of them will be because taurus are too routine, stubborn, and clingy for me and capricorn-

well, i don’t know much about capricorn, but i looked up our compatibility and it’s not good.

and that will be stuck in the back of my head for just about ever.

now, i completely forget about you and him and her and conversations and zodiac signs, (particularly taurus, virgos, and capricorns) and then i think about the lyrics to the sing deceptecon by le tigre and then i think about the whole riot grrrl movement

and how i wish i was apart of it and how i wonder if it’s still alive today in any form and how if it is then those people involved are people i wanna know.

i think about how i need to make a new playlist and

about how cluttered my playlists are along with my mind and then i get overwhelmed because i get overwhelmed easily.

how maybe if i make a new playlist with music other than rap i’ll feel better and life will make much more sense then.

and then i snap back into it because the lady giving me a massage hits my back harder than expected and tells me she’s finished with the massage and my neck still hurts, oh, and i was never looking at a butterfly at all.

photo credit: pinterest.com

Write to write, you know? (w.v. II)

I think I should stop trying to be eloquent and just try to be authentic. The words will come on their own.

I’ll write just to write, you know?

I love talking. I love that I can talk to people so easily most of the time. But, sometimes, I hate it too, because we all just say the same things over and over and over every time. It gets boring.

Image via Pinterest.com

And I find myself saying over and over that I want to go somewhere far away from here. I want to go everywhere that is not here and stay there for a very long time.

And I find myself saying over and over that I would never love anyone like that.

And I know I love you! But sometimes I also just hate you! I love that you are open and introspective and so sure of yourself, but sometimes I wish you would just shut up!

But, I do like that you write about it all. I didn’t know that before. I think that’s the one thing you do without over-thinking and without trying to so hard to look like you aren’t trying.

I just want to be authentic.

a familiar demon; revisited

why does it always wear off so quickly?

all of a sudden-

so blinding, exciting, and new-

but it fades and i see your true colors.

i see every mistake you’ve ever made.

i see how i painted you and i see how you actually are.

such a sad thing,

living off the infatuation,

going into everything praying it won’t end too quickly.

but it always does.

not knowing whether it’s a genuine sentiment or the excitement of the attention.

i ignore all of your tricks;

they no longer work for me.

when i start getting bored, i start noticing how you walk a little weird,

how you have a poor vocabulary,

and how you are much cleaner than i’ll ever be.

i pick you apart.

i don’t want to,

but my brain simply won’t have otherwise.

i can’t live a white lie.

it’s discouraging, you know?

not knowing if i have the complexity to be able to get past this.

am i interested or is it just the trick my mind plays on me only to result in a painful goodbye?

(for you)

make a monster out of me,

i understand.

probably one more week until i’m completely over it.

yet again,

what’s wrong with me?

why can’t i just stay infatuated

both for me

and for you.

 

photo credit: pinterest.com