Friday, December 11, 2009

the similarity of the unknown

a recollection of future phrases,
as wavelengths of our syllables
are hungered, just
swung up, O!
to meteoric atmospheres
to eventually shiver downward,
(now intersected)
and break off
to be caught, by our bodies
in a single movement

while above us,
drums conduct
a froth of broken wires
melted, but now conducting a propelled
fetused fusion
formerly glittered, textured hammock-like
from above a neo-colonization of birds with half legs
and tiny bottled messages tied to their toes

splitting off and rushing through the place between our lungs, we say
the same
words before we speak, we
perform resembling movements, we
love in complementary ways, we
are reciprocal, parallel parts
but still, one
and a Third
to be thrust into a congruent civilization, (where we both align)
but always to a

(a poem to be realistically and eventually bound together with mariana's, of the same subject matter)

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

be rid from my dream!
out of the second time on twelfth street,
rid of the man romantically playing his guitar
on a lighted platform where i dragged h.
without payment, i understood
brought him there, knowing!
just knowing he could not, but knowing that i could!
O God,
but an illuminated, removed manhole from the road where i grew
was releasing the underworld
in a swift circling of events,
more quickly than it could be removed
or shut----
we were packing cedar doors
from buildings to darkened automobiles
and i saw j.
previously dreamed of him,
desiring to possibly
cross paths between buildings
balance between trees
to fall into a reconciliation
instead of a flickering to nothing
a father, but
a child to be left
in a basket

on twelfth street

Monday, December 7, 2009

inside a banjo during july
we slept, nodded our heads silently during battle,
pleaded for a recollection or even
a collection of energies
to be held in our hands
but realizing that the breaths between words can yet be
deciphered though,
O God,
a rendering of perfectly symmetrical forms
is to be utterly incredulous, or maybe
just worthless to the incredible
weight of all the syllables
and faceted nailbeds we gather up
like tiny ships heading to,
O God,
a stormed fracture of ivory and statures
that we refused to incorporate
further into our slight movements,
such as the slowest gaze north,
an adjustment to the hem of a purple dress,
light purple,
almost translucent as particles of pasty light
pass through our bodies and extend through each woven corner
where estellia flowers are singing in tune
with the voices, as one, in the wind
through the olive grove

Sunday, December 6, 2009

let me slip into an unconscious slumber
and sail through a thousand eastern landscapes
where i can be nestled between pink pink petals
into a bed of lavender
where everything is pretty,
where voids exist only in fallen stars,
rather than inside my form

Saturday, November 28, 2009

dreamt of being held,
three times, even when moved

i dreamt of little thief children
banging on our door in brooklyn
screaming to be let in

outside, i had left the door open,
and found you
and my grandparents
drenched in sun
on the secret hill behind our home

i remembered upstairs,
where a secret passageway had held our bones
not finished now, not yet finished

Friday, November 20, 2009

white and light
descending upwards,
to the place where colors turn translucent,
but still can
be seen

through an eyeglass we found between sidewalk gardens
trying to explain what we had seen to the mist,
he said nothing, but descended upon our heads to protect us from
journeying onward
to the place behind our eyelids,
where we only imagined in sleep

there had to be an intriguing perseverance,
we pleaded with the fog,
but it was silent and descended around our heads,
to stop us from proceeding.

a wretched being, we cried to each other,
how could we go on any longer?
we sat among the disappearing reeds inside the void of our planetary world.

is it not enough, to be alive and a curious one?
we cried to the smoke- it stood still for a moment but then came down on us.

we fell, put our heads to the damp floor and ceased speaking.

a tragedy, an undying homelessness,
to be underneath life, or above?
we whispered ancient psalms, but still,
the universe was quieted.

a beating of drums.

"Arise! Arise!" The smoke, the fog, the mist called to us,
and dissipated throughout the atmosphere, shattered in a
thousand little diamonds.

an entire city, buzzing around us,
to be alive with tenacity and fervor, we thought,
would be a lovely interpretation within the body of life.

i inhaled, and the particles of air traveled-
through every organ, and i saw
every movement was preplanned,
for the atmosphere to decide.

Thursday, November 19, 2009

on tuesday, there was a captive terror beneath our wings, where the earth was made and galaxies protected by
delicate feathers
fluttered with every slight wind of time,
ruffled by the breath of mysterious crystals that made habitat inside each silvered rachis.
a tickling of your neck, each filoplume slowly rises,
as oceans are being demanded into existence still

Sunday, November 15, 2009

(1) please shade the wildflowers,
the wildflowers growing beneath the branches of our quieted wintertime

Saturday, November 14, 2009

why this wasteful inclination
of circuses underwater,
of previous acquaintances with paint drizzing down faces?
to be humbled under the weight of something far from a drop of honey, in the wilderness

why are vocabularies and the arrangement of words becoming a lightness in this world; when knitted together, i had been a conduit of stitching together syllables and beats into a single sheet of shapes, as we spoke them into a new life////,,,llp;'''''

a draft

on the human inclination of immediate destruction:

the possibility of a reconciliation betwixt unsaid formulas
that we had prearranged to
have collected in our hands
a parallax between stars of the same hue,
a bright rood hangs
(above our)
heads with a tenacious language
caught in the space between our words

there exists a theory that dwindles with increasing exploratory knowledge,
diagrams of trees that we had
understood to be
realization before bonfires
that had eaten our sweaters (where he wouldn't stop calling my name, but would not answer once i listened)
though i notice the skies above your head,
still you weep, under the covers on your lover's bed

(a name, bringing knots)
closer and closer to discovering
the Mystery beneath our skin
eternality being thrust from our chests
a string, pulled back-- and given more string, to become further from it's end

a beginning, whispered into flame
sidewalks mourning the place where two previously walked
their footsteps permanently etched into cobblestone,
sunk down

where puddles form

Sunday, November 8, 2009

overheard from underwater:

"there, no,

no songs on palms---
no, no inclinations to be interpreted
i didn't


your heart, no---
it.... mine,


it was cold, no

shouldn't be fr--

you could bre-


i told you, a song between our eyes were,
a fr--


come over love,

my only r--

to c,
to share f.,
to contr. in. one mind,
an. understanding, days.
a r- u.w, to ---- home.
if you could recall, the rain coming,
you could,


a q-i---

tell your m-r
i am g-

to your wishes,"

she said.

Thursday, November 5, 2009

can a single mountaintop be annotated? but still, a shakingly horrible feeling is perpetually becoming melted between two landscapes, where a lion and a harpsichord sleep in each others arms. however, under crystalline towers (i noted), a love was born through a recently invented form of breathing; an inhale, the beckoning of a lover; an exhale, the human tendency for aggressive destruction.

Saturday, October 31, 2009

in the same bed
two of the same, two generations above
where i was standing,
i told you, in brooklyn

monday night,
previous planes,
handheld conversation between us,
(over oceans, not land-- to be understood)
by your facial expression
a forest in the attic
a hidden chest of lockets
buried beneath the roots of our homeostatic inclinations,
to be found.

a market of vegetables
vibrant colors, with
a sunlight bursting above our heads
spilling down our arms, to the warming black pavement
he told me to take the A back home,
take him with me, i wanted!
to only miss a poetry class, i wanted!
to be with him, instead!
to lie in the bed, to sleep, with another's heartbeat;
i wanted!

i imagined, then, a desert river
bursting through trees (which were above),
ripping through brush,
we were floating
but still,
there was space between us
An ├ętude
formulating in your mind
a black fungus
swimming between your bones,
and further we swam,
under enemy camps
jellyfish in rivers
a sting to your brother, but a campsite revisited time and time again
you were exposed, but i wanted only for myself
a similarity in forms, but
a much smaller beating of hormonal inclinations had understood
besides her brother,
a restoring of diamonds
in clouds beneath the bonfire of our beings
if i pleaded with you, would you have had it to give?
to have a complete lack of presence
would somehow be increasingly well (in my opinion--
besides a small cookie shop,
an art exhibit,
a sleeping under trees,
besides a man reciting poetry,
a tired mother's uvula,
and a slow drowning)

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

to become

just as a marshland
is an industrial
boom of
homeward bound silks around our wrists,
so exists self-addressed envelopes
with no return addresses

constellations are overlapping,
causing brilliant images to appear-
however, our eyes are closed and we could not notice:
the seams between the stars,
discarded inks,
clay jars.

(at seven, i was a decadent soldier)
i made tea: a stable, a harness, a beating of bones, featherbeds, promise rings, sunday mornings, walking downtown, a pile knit- i am late

Friday, September 25, 2009

circa sept. 2009, re: wintertimes, seven

It was our hair there, the smell of sleep-
hot cocoa fluttering up around all us as a silk garment
her voice,
a clashing of pans
Coffee beans being crushed into red, sweet earth
violins screeching
wind rustling between my knees.
There are tree branches,
A thousand suns exploding in my throat;
nails continually being dug into my side.
(Old wood, blood, liquid metal as beads of sweat
camping in each bud) My arms as pillows,
the mug warming my hands, but wool blankets are like soil-
"moss in my hands, moss in my hands, moss in my hands," I keep thinking,
but all I hear is buzzing silence

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

a refuge of iron,
humbled stones-
you told us, "raise your eyes to the north!"
a final deed to
salute, or
sacrifice, your
young to him; what
if it were i who perished?
she told me it was downtown, a memoir turned fable,
an antique shop, a harbor,
yearning to be ripped apart by You
called but i didn't answer (accidentally)
called, you did- out into the air
for me, you called!
for me, you called.
(i forgot)
how long before this continuity becomes (deceased? desire)
i possess to own a given love,
seeing you lying there
holding the same desire, but reciprocated (to love,)
so let us rejoice like steeds throughout wild,
multiply our love as bacteria rustling through blue-green waters.
wondering, "how deep a love can be restored?"
(answered without saying) a word.
beyond your glances i see a dark satisfaction,
i desire to be
as you are but am unsure where to begin. to share like you would be incredible, i am (still, as i pointed out before) unable to see past stagnant marshes behind fluttered eyelids.

Saturday, August 29, 2009

"one day," she replied,
"he will realize the depth, how pools of deep waters are reflective of our hearts, as a single mechanism!"

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

each bead was moving away from it's center, but my heart felt a slight tugging back. we are two-sided, i told you, but the ink on the runway stains the livid air.
a mirror, he wrote about, a french dove, lucid dreams, a photographic memory.

you were a shortcut to the end of the earth, a ride opposite the tumultuous rivers, a rat tail wrapping its roots around our manufactured forms. our nails, crossword puzzles, and our hair, vines- tassels braided together.

a deception crept closer, german wines clouded our eyes and we felt a connection to the silence. you gave us honey, a lost song, but a place to rest. for months we waltzed together, her feathers clenched tightly, the wind demanding they return to the earth; she refused. "be continually built up, like atmospheric jungles," she said, but we slipped away.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

the spider veins
the ocean waves,
constantly crashing to regain their speed.
David departed to the cave,
the prison,
the forest.
He heard the heavens
rejoicing in each place.

backyard performances
whispered things to come, but
a prophet has not the same duty as a surgeon!
one cannot edit,
an artist in detail!
default, default, default-
a man you are, not a worm!
you do not crawl, you
sit upright under the
slow hum of
the spring that passes over you.
each deity is crashing down,
each a skeleton in a garden
weeping bones
cleansed arteries
food for the living
forever undead.
we can hide from the peacock feathers,
we can bury ourselves
under the arch of a footbridge,
but our bones are not silenced!

a place to hide
in a stone,
where our blood is
and each word,
a profit.

astute knowledge,

Monday, August 17, 2009

a narcoleptic spectrum

forgive me of my continual misunderstandings
my fingers
for each nickel worth saving.

above my flesh, a thousand pounds push down
squished, i am,
pummeled with the weight
of each life i could choose, while
Dionysius is suffocated
under the lace of his lover.
But boats are falling under
the riptide of casinos-
buzzing and booming
and falling- into dark, dark, dark chambers
bound to their owners,
bound to their captives,
bound to all of our feet.

i used to think, "it is all parallel,"
but no! perpendicular! intersections!
slicing and cutting and searing!
open wounds,
gauze, blood, blood, blood.
all i can see is crimson-
forgive me of my undying misinterpretations;
i am sorry.
i will
scream it-
"my eternity did not begin at my inception!"
i will repeat it
until i comprehend
we were existing before we began!

Thursday, August 13, 2009


scrambling to find your paint smeared hands
unearned currency
held tightly in your fists

ridiculing your fathers,
but they founded you within deep blue shadows,
ones that actually belonged there

you found yourself there,
if understanding stands alone,
you searched and searched.
together you were sewn, however,
still being knit together, even now
knotting, unknotted
knotting, unknotting
unknotted. unknotted.

ropes, inside it had cities of bronze,
and glitter batteries with fuel consistently increasing
love never ceasing
your heart, inside,
your palm continues to beat
a steady rhythm,
when i hold your hand,
when i hold your hand,
i can hear it drumming
bum bum bum
bum bum bum bum

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

a full circle
mediocrity and sounds
you jumped in with me, but still felt
the sincerity i so longed for,
praying for-

your eyes to light up
i felt them on my back
your glittering form in the shallow, pebbled water
we thought it was dead, but alive it became and swam away

it was mutual,
you kept saying, but how could you know i was feeling the same?
so we washed the crust off the bowls,
scrubbing them with rocks
apartments in my mind

blue walls, blue walls, blue walls, i kept seeing.
the banjo still plays and i can't buy my love
any longer, so

arise, we told it-
her eyes were amber, with the sun shining on her back, the
ocean at her side.
she preferred it to engulf her but his heart was a ring of turquoise- she took it from him, put it on, paraded around as if it were a sign of his love.

"you're not sick,"
i told him
"you are beautiful," i had wanted to say it for so long,
but i read his lips like tea leaves, each crevice a memory, every hue a call for more.
in the van you told me how each note,
a bead,
moved at a consistent yet unpredictable pace away from it's center.
i didn't understand; i just thought it was pretty.

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

a bumblebee for every step closer to the afterlife
each one buzzes in my ear
"sad, so sad," i murmured,
but the buzzing just got louder, until it split into a million pieces
piercing my heart and causing it to rupture

"forgive me!" i said,
not wanting to fall, but arms they reached towards the cosmos,
we planned it before, but the time was now.

erasures clogged up my throat
edit, edit, edit. it will not come through-

"we had a good home," he told me, "a breath for every meal, and a moon garden that became our own."

"bumblebees came and pollinated, but you know, it was never enough"

so they circled round our heads, daunting, taunting. the bed and breakfast is now closed, and the skyscrapers rusted. the sky has fallen down, so we now live above the atmosphere, but my arms are still too short to reach the open window.

Monday, August 3, 2009

Resplendent women
surrounded by clouds of glitter
delved idiosyncratically
into the shallow pools of sapphire

raising knowledge
braiding into cirrus,
and dames
their reforestation plans
up in smoke, after bears spit fire to its words.
"We have not yet seen the Greatest land! We know not of what is being done in the shadows!"

Spinning, they each fell.
One, two, three,
until their breaths staggered,
where an oak tree
coughed nectar from it's deep throat-
labyrinths of marbled lumber.
"We've reaped our destinies long before we took a breath!"

Again, again.

Friday, July 31, 2009

Elsie failing, forgotten pixies

Everlasting, unceasing whisperings
tucked under waterfalls;
Phillipe told me, "The only way to ever know what He is saying is to drown,"
which is how my mother went, vying for knowledge aforementioned and etched into ivory bones.
If I press hard enough I can feel my rhythm,
but my eternity did not begin at my inception!

raepheldae hamastalde, kleamaere, holmedstarde

Elsie sees his form through the curtain,
but I am crying under the comforters, after kissing his head.
Expectant mothers are groaning in the night
but my stomach growls each time I remember fawning.
I desired to explain, time and time again, the fear I possessed that he would not return,
I screamed, "Phillipe, come!", but remembered the ancient trimesters.
A pile of skin and bones, a pile: skin, and bones.

Thursday, July 23, 2009

mourn for me, mourn for me, mourn for me,
I'm not taking him away, I said
guess, guess, guess,
and I did it for a reason and I can still remember why,
my fourth sense tingles when the breeze twirls in.

Saturday, July 18, 2009

Red boats,
seven of them- pulled in their masts at the sound of Your footsteps
on the rocky waves, for they were being
The men's lavender eyes turned upwards,
where the clouds were circling
and round
and round

Beneath the sea, the creatures came to life,
where the beads off Your wet feet
fell into the water, multiplied and
commanded them to awake.

"A reprieve! A reprieve!"
they whispered to their napping families, who,
carrying their water jugs, left their homes. The deep-sea
cottages they inhabited were now untouched, the last overcast day their minds would have to comprehend.

Monday, July 13, 2009

"forget, forget, forget"

each time it beeps, i have to remind myself of life everlasting,
how far away it is from where i am,
how close it can be.
"remember me!" he screams, not uttering the words, but grabbing my hand and telling me not to leave. how can i not, i think, with expletives shouted and black and blues (which i admit, i repeatedly pushed in deeper, as to not forget him)
but the arrow continually comes, and the check is always too late.
you promised or pleaded for forever, but it shouldn't have ended this way. salty's is still open, but i'm still yearning for last year, when it was just me, and
i can't even look at that woman anymore without her reminding me again and again.

i'm trying to make it known to you that maybe i want to disappear when i'm around you, i'm not interested anymore, i'm straying away, but you keep pulling me back, taunting me with your words, my heart falling faster, deeper into some fantastical mysteryland where it's dark and all that can be heard is slow humming. so you grabbed my hand and i agreed never to leave, but what i really meant is, "i will stay with you, if you promise that it will only be me." that is what i promised to you,

Monday, May 25, 2009


enough already
enough enough enough enough enough enough enough enough

be here already
and please
give me it,
so i can go to the beach alone while listening to the woodlands (the band, not the form of landscape)

but don't dream yet,
i'm so far away

the wave was glued on my wall, that famous artwork, and i pleaded with him to give me it. later, i saw it on a dress.
but smile gayer and gayer until it awakens (as you tell it, "arise! arise! from where you have been, i call arise!")

breezing through the lace curtains i heard Him whisper
and again
and again,
but still did not move.
in the car
in the car
in the car,
i was with her. she told me the same as He, and i said i knew. i knew it was coming.
(or as johnathan safran foer would put it-)

but there's always sounds in silences

Saturday, May 23, 2009

"don't fall deeper", i told him,
shadows from the trees masquerading on the curtains of my room

Thursday, April 30, 2009

earthfeathers (pt. 2)

"show me,"
she sang,
her arms fluttering upwards to the sky
the leaves were falling but she was moving higher,

"embrace me,"
she happily screamed,
her hair looking like feathers in the wind

inside her eyes were pools,
and wells of honeycombed ice castles,
her lips were brandy wine and
every time i glanced down at her hands,
(which were so delicate, i could never forget)
lullabies surrounded me

we were one kingdom
and one hope-
winking at a place that was to come,
a fragrant rose not yet in bloom
seeds in the forest
seeds in the packages in the grocery
seeds in my hand

as my fingers graced her champagne wings
ivory tears
staining my cheeks

she will not flutter off, however - - - -


(we were always here)

my mind is a still ocean
with gentle waves,
white noise-
whisperings of golden fragments and labial pronunciations
i will not disappear
or fall deeper into the sea

and i knew,
i always knew i would go with her
the threads around my wrists unraveling,
creating pulleys and weights and propelling me higher

distance stretching further beyond us
we are still one kingdom
awarded a single crown
love prevailing

i always believed her
i kiss her forehead
i still feel safe

Thursday, April 23, 2009


"maybe follow me,"
she whispered,
her wings sparkling from the light pouring through the branches

"follow me,"
she told me,
as we spoke about galaxies on her bed

her phone keeps beeping, but she doesn't want to be without me
the messages keep getting rejected from being unopened,
moving from mobile to mobile like bouncing checks

the silence here is so heavy it feels like a void,
a vacuum i can immerse myself in,
i can't help feeling, however, as if there's others existing here too

her wings smell like fresh, sweet earth
she knows she could take me far away from here
but i don't want to be anywhere else

she will not flutter off - - - -


(we are still here)

my mind seems perpetually nomadic though; i wish i could stop thinking about that bearded man with the paper cup, reaching up to the sky, asking God for change...
or maybe just hoping he will disappear

the threads around my wrist will not take me up,
but maybe if i went with her,

2,504 miles
(she found it on the map)

i still believe her

i still feel safe

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

grey gardens,
your father in those photographs,
his eyes were shimmering
"halo, halo, halo"
i keep thinking

jeremy the fox whispered in my ear
the names of ancient cities
i smiled, but the buzzing wouldn't stop

behind your architectured forms,
the streams were spinning
constellations reshuffling
under my feet

my hair becomes braided, ropes in
the wilderness
i exhale, but it's all still

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

suitcase of fireflies
garage sales and old churches selling records
histories attach
the sun is shining, for the first time in six months
and all i want is it to be dark
to sit in my backyard
in the grass
hear the cicadas (which, i remember, mark ate when he was drunk that one time)
and be with you

i am light
i am light
i am light

Monday, March 23, 2009

bulletin poem

to do:
pink, did i really just
gold soles
i can't,
i feeellll

Sunday, February 22, 2009

winds ran beside us
down the rabbit hole
we fell:

three times before tomorrow,
hearts fell into deep darkness
knives stuck from your pores
faces gleam
rings crash to the ground
falling upwards
five pianos
with five angels, i thought
coming from Elysian?

prefer letters to written word

archaic instruments
falling through windows
our heels click, hells remiss
wormholes twist
spines attach to miniature cities

icebergs of love
press into sparrows' breast
all sparrows, are we?
sword over us
saw feathers as we dug for worms
dirt under fingernails

silent bruise
expressionistic paintings
upon further examination, your
seeping words
melting glass
(over matters, you see)
was never here

Saturday, January 31, 2009

library books and
emotions distanced (previously detached)
"besides you, i have just one person"
you said

why did you though?
after you
fell away
we were
(in that city),
form was

[not so much delicate, maybe just fallen apart]
but you refrained from
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

(i really did though)
your face turned
to ----
i wanted it to be
so different
you seemed

so different
i heard them say,
lured me past your heart
when i was only trying to find it

(you were the blueprint)