Dreams before waking are eyes into the future ( Read more... )

she sates my sex,

my overall gender of things and sex,

my sex which sits nicely on the nightstand

next to her cup of water that she can't go to sleep without.

One pack of Lucky Strikes

not my brand

Still I want to be smoking

sultry sepia toned dreams

I find it hard to sleep

with you watching me from

outside

the window

NO. I was ( Read more... )

I can't think of that
Let me help and one
Green is for always then
Let me lay my head upon
I will not fasten it
Will not hold you to me

You to it I'll be one
Will that be better then
That I may not think upon
Love is taken through it
One is a rose and me
A lover still loves for that
~Alice Notley

I'm just trying to be a hero in this modernist world,
I'm tired by the motonony of grey sidewalks
I've layed out the work days in coffee spoons,
Thankfully they don't stretch too far.
So tell me that you need me,
I'm self conscious in this false alternative existance.
I'll wait on the weathered park bench,
watching the time pass in glass reflections ( Read more... )

'Till I'm old and gray
My one mind will not atrophy thoughts.
Let's take the leaps and bounds with some care
I'm not so sure I can escape this time.
let's diverge against time and what we make of it
I'm not sure this is just the way we play.

When do we reach out before sunrises thinking of the way things are

Will you be there to catch me if I

It's easy to pretend you don't exist ( Read more... )

I can feel this city breathing,
long and slow, as the day's ended
behind smoke stack sunsets...

Just heaving against the flesh of the evening
cigarette smoke retraces the city skyline;
the glass buildings that reflect the starless sky
Standing, watching like lonely tall shadows that
reflect its empty urban soul...

Silence is the reprieve at night
While ( Read more... )

Here we are without a sense of time or space ( Read more... )

Running around and past the games we played ( Read more... )

Haunted by the voices in my head, the terribly confounding dreams i return to the monotonous comfort in typing with my sentimentally used keyboard; my affection bound by my understanding in the way it reacts to my overworked hands...

Breezes of May sooth the nonsense of my mind only to return to thoughts;

I have grown familiar to the selfish late ( Read more... )