plunge

plunge

after a weariness
that seemed to

s
t
r
e
t
c
h

for years,

i'm excited
to dive into dreams

swim
under blankets
of night
to destinations
i never thought
i'd be lucky enough to reach.

and see
what treasures
i can bring back
from the insides
of my eyelids.

revolving

revolving

days like today
make me wonder
if copernicus
and gallileo
were actually wrong
about which celestial body
revolves around which.

questions that keep me up at night

questions that keep me up at night

the man basking
in a
treasure
beyond compare:
too dumb to know
how lucky they are?
or
too spoiled
to care?

sensory overload

sensory overload

may my worst sins
be
straining eyes to see
craning ears to hear
opening my brain to know

as much as i can.

so when i am forced into inaction,
i have someplace i can go.

word search

word search

what's the term

for finding hope in

a seminar

on

stopping procrastination,

only to discover

it ended three hours

before

you saw the ad?

untitled

untitled

inside of my eyelid
is covered in cocoadots.
yearn to drink them all.

canvass

canvass

the page
already talks to me.
don't let ideas
of
blank
or
empty
enter your mind.

the page has
interests,
ideas,
things to express.

this is conversation.

this is not monologue.

so you may think
you can throw whatever
scratches you want
upon her,
bathe her in emotions
you believe are only your own,

but you can't.

because without her,
you've got no way
to say
anything at all.

waiting up

waiting up

as 10 becomes 2,
soldier seconds passing me
on the review stand,

as my eye lids pass
the weight limit prescribed
by my face muscles,

as dreams rudely run
before me without waiting
for pillow returns,

as laundry slowly
tumbles towards static cling
conclusions mounted

to the inside of
my head, besides calender
magnet shopping lists,

songs wait patiently
in my chest for the perfect
moment to arrive.

more

more

you do
more than hold
your own.
you cradle stars
in your strides,
whole worlds
with single steps,
oceans in the sweat
that collects
in the small of your back.
you match army
drill manuevers
with a bend of your arm,
outshining red giants
with a gentle tug
upwards of your lips
defying gravity.

hold your own?

galaxies pray
to hold their own
with you.

Monster

(with regret. and maybe a little hope)
4/4/2008

Monster

On this
day of days,
I feel I've failed you.

I've stared your words
in the face
until
(I hoped) they somehow
fused themselves to my body,
filling in gaps between neurons,
delivering depression free
chemical recipes
to my skull sanctuary
before sending me
to follow past your footsteps
past your markers
to where they did not
give you the chance to tread.

And I failed you.

I have obeyed
unjust laws.

I have done less
than I could do.

I do not
love
my enemy.

and I'm unsure
I ever will.

Love my enemy?
I want to defeat my enemy.
I want to make him pay
for every heartbreak he has caused.

I want him to fail.
I want him to suffer.
I want to rain down
kamikaze pretzels
until one catches his throat.

I don't just want justice.

I want vengeance.

Want to stand over him
defeated, bloodied, and say
I did this to you, remember me,
Sonny style,

so he knows never to fuck
with the people
ever again.

i want him
to feel the brunt
of my wrath.
to pay for everything
that's ever happened to me,
even the shit that's not his fault
just because i'm so pissed.

I want to make him
feel the excruciating pain
he's given to me,
no,
the pain he's given to others
in his lifetime,
no, fuck that,
even that's not enough.

the torment
of every life
he's affected
including the ones to come.

drenching him
in agony
repeatedly
increasing
his suffering
exponentially

while he begged
for the mercy
he never gave me.

all this
on this day, of all days,
on the day
you were taken away from us

Your ability to love your enemy
in the face of such torment
leaves me feeling
worse than a failure.

love my enemy?

he's the only person
i hate more
than me.

and maybe that's why
I think

I'm a monster.

letter parade

letter parade

rarely
do i have the
chance to see letters
march, but I dream of S's
that strut.

April flowers

April flowers

April
the month of
unmitigated possibility.
when clocks
move in frames
impervious to time.
when my favorite jewel
celebrates her new re
birth into limitless opportunity.
when blossoms herald
exit of lion and lamb
and entrance of regality.
when months of waiting
of hoping working wishing
lead to these moments
when brilliance pauses suddenly
hot blades sear them permanently
in the cold of time.
April,
the
days
when i remember
i was there, so i
unlock the chains
around my broom closet
display the contents
to you
hidden taskmasters
still asking for brick without straw
waters waiting to uncover dry land
napkin postcards where the i's
are dotted with cocoa stains

you whisper
its okay.
we're free now.
it's april.