Golden, the Pony boy

Today I discovered three Yann Tiersen songs that I've been searching for all my life but I only knew I was searching for one.

More A Short Story
December 20, 2009

And that month
December
Everything you saw
and felt
made you want to die.

To fall apart on the sidewalk
to the amazement and
horror of everyone around you

And everything would have been
beautiful
because there were two pianos
and then a waltz
you had just heard for the first time that day.

And you wanted to die in the moment.
Everything felt so perfect.
You just wanted to let go.

And I mean “I” and “me”.
It’s all me.
I wanted to fade today.

A sequel to "The Dual".

the dual (cliché)
December 20, 2009

I did see you.
I saw through
you and
now I see against you.

You make me laugh
you’re such a mess.
Not worth cleaning up
because you are the essence
of the mess.

Always present.

I feel bad for you, really,
and the “love” I felt
faded as quickly
as it bloomed.

But don’t feel bad
because other people love
you.
and that absolves me of my
responsibilities

(i know)

don’t mourn me.
i’s can’t stand alone
without being corrected.

I’ll miss you when you go.
If only for the departure
of my entertainment.

I don’t know what else to
say but
I hope you (cliché)
find what you’re looking
for.

Same Ol' Same Ol'

The Dual
September 22, 2009
I hate you.
I hate the way you make me
feel.

But I see you.
I mean I
really see you.

I see through and
I see past you
and then I see you.

And then I love you.
And then I hate myself.

I suppose we’re wrapped up
in each other.
Except, you would never agree to that.

And that’s your appeal.
That (I know)
and the way you make me
feel.

Bisou
September 24, 2009

Kiss me
when a pool of sweat forms
in the small of my
back.
(When it’s all said
and done).

Kiss me
when I fold within you
and then through you
and then you
are the little spoon.

Kiss me
when hope is at my
doorstep
and I miss its call
because I’m in the
shower.

Kiss me
when I hand you my dirty
laundry and expect
it back better
than it looked
before.

Or,
just kiss me.

night drive(s) in your heart
November 26, 2009

night drive(s) in your heart
and it uses
peruses
abuses
and confuses you

night drive(s) in your heart
and it spits in your eye
then hands you a tissue
and laughs

night drive(s) in your heart
and it molds your veins
into little trees
with empty branches

night drive(s) in your heart
and drops off the kids
and wants them back on Sunday
at nine o’clock sharp

(or there’ll be hell to pay)

night drive(s) in your heart
and it doesn’t respect you
and it never will
because it’s the night

and you lost custody a long time ago

N3mBers

Aorta (Kick Kick Punch)
September 21, 2009

If you saw my heart
you would be alarmed.
coursing with veins
coursing with disdain
coursing with lust
and infatuation

If you saw my heart
I would already be dead
because I wouldn’t dare
to let people like you see my heart
not my crowning jewel!
not my stringy heart
fuck you!

If you saw my heart
I would be afraid
what if my heart isn’t right
barely passes for a heart.
what if my heart is best likened
to that of a beast.
(sorry)

If you saw my heart you would cry,
poor pitiful thing that it is.

The Dual
September 22, 2009

I hate you.
I hate the way you make me
feel.

But I see you.
I mean I
really see you.

I see through and
I see past you
and then I see you.

And then I love you.
And then I hate myself.

I suppose we’re wrapped up
in each other.
Except, you would never agree to that.

And that’s your appeal.
That (I know)
and the way you make me
feel.

Feels Good To Be Free

So the previous two posts were part of a story, that 2AM story that I was working on for a while. The thing is that I'm pretty lost on that story and I don't know if I'll ever finish it. We'll see. 

I'll write some poetry soon, I just haven't been inspired lately. My main problem lately is the fact that I am very, very poor and I have very rich aspirations in terms of fashion. I'm trying to change my style partially because it would be nice to attract my type of guy (indie). 

Boop boop boop. 

What to do, what to do...

On Caffeine Shakes

Ever-this

April 19, 2009

Shaking always

like the leaf on the

cusp of a breakthrough.

We are in the absence of something,

in emptiness

and searching for

the butterfly (soul)

with whom we (may?) relate.

Shaking, like a leaf,

because I’m not used to this.

I’m not connecting anymore.

Please send a report.

 

I had to fall

to see you at the top.

We are at the cusp of

a breakthrough. 

Being A Smart Ass

Demosthenian

April 15, 2009

Sometimes we yell at

Demosthenian, but 

Usually we cry. 

About Weaknesses

Labrés

March 29, 2009

The curtains open

and I see a

lightness and a darkness.

And I am eternally drawn

to the darkness. 

The thrill,

the chill, 

the possible

kill of the darkness. 

And I thirst after it because

I always have

and always will. 

I want to taste it and

perhaps it will 

be too much for me. 

But I want it

so 

badly. 

One in French

Les éléments

February 1, 2008

Quand tu es né

Est-ce que tu sais que

tu étais le plus beau

personne

en la pièce?

Parce que tu étais. 

Mais maintenant,

ce n'est pas vrai

car tu n'est plus

un des innocents

Tu étais rencontré

le feu, l'eau, et la

terre. 

Ils ont été aveuglés par 

le feu 

pour longtemps. 

5-7-5: A Day of Haikus

Blue World

I am afraid to 

bring our bodies closer to

Nite Owl's bad dream. 

[Note: I recently read/watched Watchmen.]

Want

I dream of being

completely free of this mind

and taking a breath. 

Jonestown

I am very glad

that neither of us wanted

to drink the kool-aid. 

[Note: I had a dream where my sister and I were caught in a Jonestown-type situation and in the dream we both decided against "revolutionairy suicide".]

The March Poems (Thus Far)

Bodies

March 7, 2009

If I've said it once, she said

Then you've said it three or

four other times

he said

Your uncertainty is certainly

killing me

And your flitting moods are like

the blue birds I see

after a new moon

Bright and worthy of remembrance

but painful as they come and go

Very painful as they come and go

An your hand won't always be enough

as it sweeps my own gently

My emotions will begin to slough

Until they gather at my feet

A mess for you and me

A mess for you and me

And no likes to clean

He said

Especially not me

The Paradox

March 8, 2009

Because you believe I 

am a child

My own small heart is 

twisting in its chamber. 

My stomach feels as if 

it has left my body to find

a life of its own. 

Away from this 

pit of despair

When you told me

You thought I was like a

child

It killed a part of me that

believed that you were a safe place to fall back to

to retreat to

You killed me 

When you told me I was a child

and in doing so

I became a child

small

alone

and broken

[Note: Not my favorite because I was angry when I wrote this. I think I'm at my best when I'm sentimental.]

Black Dwarves?

March 22, 2009

I remember when [we]

you 

were fading from this world. 

And I always placed the blame 

on [myself]

you. 

(Maturity is so 

entirely subjective that I beg

of you not to bring it up at all.) 

I remember when we became

white dwarves wrapped in night

 and desperate to find an energy 

that no longer existed within us. 

I was scraping. 

I was trying. 

I was desperate. 

I was in despair because my expectations

had suddenly become false. 

I missed us. 

I missed our zenith. 

I remember when we

[you]

were fading from this world.

I see now that blame

is such a weighty thing. 

[Note: The words in brackets were supposed to be formatted as struckthrough (does that work, haha?)]