I should be asleep, not writting love poems.
March 8, 2009, 1:24 am
Filed under: Blogging, Mysteries | Tags: , , , , ,

Every pop song says
And in words true as the Bard’s
You got me goin’.

My soul shall concede
To hold together atoms;
A shape that you love.

Although I have learned from the best,
Even now I am put to the test.
For in love  there’s no sleep,
And your tender words keep
Me from getting much needed night’s rest.

With words I was always so slick,
And my verbiage indelibly thick.
Now my sentences muddle,
I’m completely befuddled,
When attempting to converse with Nik.

I admit it was was not at all smart,
Rationality little part.
But when I heard his voice,
I had zero choice,
Save to blindly
surrender my heart.

Stone Table System
February 3, 2009, 8:33 pm
Filed under: Blogging, Mysteries | Tags: , ,

Break. Heal. Scar. Strengthen. Break. Heal. Scare. Strengthen. Break. Heal. Scar. Strengthen.

I need a more interesting life. I mean, no. Yeah. No.

I smell the skin of someone who sits near me and it drives me to lonesomeness. A warmth that I will not know and if I know it I’ll never feel safe with it. I’ve been trained by stories and experience to not feel safe in anything resembling a relationship. I just want to hug, to hold hands. I don’t want fuckin’. I’m pretty sure I never really did.

Hullo Valentine’s Day. You don’t mean anything. You’re like water skiing, I just always assumed we would never have anything to do with each other. I’ve been right about this assumption seventeen times already. So, the eighteenth one should pass quietly enough. It doesn’t bother me. Holidays are weird like that. I always feel like they belong to someone else. Like a strange car in the parking lot. I’m not going to go up and touch it, and I have no inclination to. I see it, I’m aware of it. But I just flow on.

River water does not stop to feel lonely for the scent of the flowers it passes on its way, it just goes on it’s way. So will I not tarry is in bitter stillness.

Quickly river wind
Channel benign turbulence
Picking at my scarf.

Glass wall. Electrons.
The Net gives, no questions asked
The Net takes away.

And the words won’t come
For the one unselfish want:
Skin can feel skin felt.