Thursday, March 23, 2006

Dipping into the Stream

At night I look up at the sky
the sky indulged in deep midnight blue
blue as my feelings dipped in lukewarm water
soaking, dripping dry
in the sun tomorrow they will wait
wait watching the rays of the hotness
as one after another passes by
twirling around over up down
as now it cycles in the midnight water
swimming, where inside men stroke rhythmically to no destination
I leave for Canada on Friday I think
Lost in thought, wishing you were back, smoking a cigarette
burning, marking me, heartshaped fire
night of death, diner, pancakes
thick maple syrup oozes over
and my eyes wander asleep
next to you past midnight
the darkness wraps me
carrying me from the arms of lady day
and you sing me a lullaby with notes of moon light
softly shining
cradling rocking
a mind lost again
to sleep and night


Why is mystery so sexy
sleek curves of silence
unheard, thousand possible names
I can call you anything
In my mind you will do anything that I desire
It makes me hot to think of possibility, ambiguity, undefined
You take many shapes and draw no lines
not drawing the chalk outline on the street
and curling into it to call it home

Tuesday, March 21, 2006

Retreat from Myself

Some days, you feel like you are holding the reigns and guiding things along. Today was not one of those days. Who really cares about details, grant/program rejections, grade results etc?

I woke up this morning with that feeling that your mind is on fastforward but your eyes are registering everything normally. It feels like someone is yelling in your head, blasting a soundtrack quickly through your head. It's as if the day should end in five minutes, and you should just stop and go back to sleep.

So this is going to be bloggy- ugh- sorry folks. Lately, I've wanted to take a retreat: stop everything and evaluate the stuff in my life. What do I want? Who do I want? Where should my family be? How should I dress? Can I be super organized? Will I write a book?

As an art history student, and just an aesthetic person, I feel that besides personality and expression, style is the best way to express your identity. I feel like you need to renew yourself- life is about constant change, constant flux... seems to be the only thing that is constant in this existence. Although I enjoy my paint stained pants, and memories get attached to them, there comes a point where I should say goodbye and fins something that looks better, fits better. Am I becoming fickle? I don't really know, but I am becoming increasingly conscious of my appearance and what it communicates to others. In one glance, there's only so much you can say in silence. Why don't things depend more on the get-to-know-you part? Or is that first glance electric no matter? Perhaps if you base yourself on looks, you'll attract the moths to your light... only its the wrong light.

I just need some peace right now. To reconstruct all that's falling apart, seeing ruin and sensing an impending fall. Not a good feeling. So I am going to write, and write some more. Let things flow out and go to sleep, hoping tomorrow classical music will play at a nice, regular pace

Saturday, March 18, 2006

What is it really?

If you think that passing glance excited you and made you take a second look, you were soon deceived. Your eyes begin to focus and you start to think, that's where it all goes wrong. The real answer is to loosen up and let those inhibitions slip off your shoulder, Madame X. Then, you'll be able to lose yourself in whatever you fancy. And, tomorrow, you probably won't remember through splitting beats.

Sculpt the body, sculpt the mind, until you cannot move another inch. When the two become fused into an irresistible whole, then you've liquefied desire. Maybe you too will come out of the sea and express all the carnality of Aphrodite. It's not explainable, it's a little bit of the divine, losing a bit of yourself, le petit mort... a trip around the moon and the sensation of swimming with the stars.

Thursday, March 16, 2006


Are you really worth it?
Broken heart, failed beginnings,
lost in cyberspace

Will I fall back whole
Watching the pieces crumble
Thinking: who am I?

Seek to please the world
You're left without foundation
Be a good boy, live

Ambiguous hush
Not one communication
What is the message?

Tuesday, March 14, 2006


in new york, over-stimulated, seeing shows and inevitably muscled dancers
and my mind goes into hysterics
that night has me buzzing with questions and ideas
i'd rather share in blushed face to face
this isnt fair
my body goes into these crazy bouts of lust when you're
not around
new york city has me raging,
how provincial cambridge seems

Wednesday, March 08, 2006

Haiku x 2

A mountain of stress
Slowly eating your insides
Waiting for week's end

Out twice for coffee
When do we sign a contract?
Now, we are dating