"It's so funny when people put down art as not essential to a society, because it's like pretending that people don't have dreams. As if dreams don't reveal an entire subterranean world happening that must be acknowledged. Even those people who say they don't dream still do, they just forget them. People are so so so much more than just eating ( Read more... )

Life

You struck a match and its flame blinded you
so you couldn't find what you were looking for in the darkness
before the match burned out between your fingers
and pain made you forget what you were looking for.

“Desire Path: A term in landscape architecture used to describe a path that isn’t designed but rather is worn casually away by people finding the shortest distance between two points.”

so I figured I'd put it here, so Leigh's fridge and my live journal could someday make out. Containers are fun.

Broken Teeth

represent the feeling of helplessness for the dreamer

I woke up a little

with my mouth

full of broken teeth

and kept chewing

the pieces I planted in the fields and from them grew legs and arms

I woke up a little more

( Read more... )

Brian showed me a poem yesterday that he wrote that day. So I wanted to be vulnerable too. I thought of vulnerable, which went to strangers and I tried to write about them. (the weird thing is this and the the poem I wrote before it have both been set (I hear it in the background whenever I read it) to music in my head that I'm not aware of until ( Read more... )

wow JJ just sent this to me, pretty mind blowing.

an add titled Photos for the imperfect world!

http://www.rofl.to/photos-for-the-imperfect-world

Pretty awesome Buster Keaton movie (The Scarecrow) from 1920 if you got 20 minutes on your hands. The house at the beginning is awesome. I love how fast paced it all is too.

http://www.tv-links.co.uk/listings/4/8752

A Song of Morning Heard as a Song of Mourning

I hollowed the arrows out of my father’s femur,

aimed them at my mother, the garden,

the air folds of my summer jacket.

Come the end, everything will be clean

says the blue sun perched in the blue

like the ultimate arrow’s bullseye.

The horse trailer was going about 75 mph

when the floor finally ( Read more... )

sent poems to Open City: 1/23/06
rejected: 10/9/07

wow i had given up personally.

I need to make this stuff public so I'll become self-aware of it. Any comments appreciated:

An Open Letter to the Everyday

I always miss you,

the missing you, talking (in utero),

standing for something more than a testament

to time-lapse motion, we pointed

and pointed at the unpointable, fuck,

we built a museum, slept in the attic

and let the ( Read more... )