i aM nOT lIKE yOU's Journal [entries|friends|calendar] i aM nOT lIKE yOU [ website | wHere pOems rUn wIld aNd fRee ] [ userinfo | livejournal userinfo ] [ calendar | livejournal calendar ]

[21 Jul 2004|10:57am] I sense the twilight at dawn. I heard waves crashing on shorelines before there were beaches. When the lava had not yet begun to flow from the mouth of opened earth, I saw our desolated home. & we do not yet have a home. & me, I can't help but want one even as my mind's eye watches it dissolve into ash. I have that kind of optimism that borders on insanity. You have that kind of cynicism that borders on self-doubt. Just between us, that lava is consuming a lot of crazy. Can we fly up out of it, phoenixes reborn, better versions of ourselves? Or do we also die under the molten tide? Is there a way to know the answer while we are posed at this fatal junction, or must we wait until years have passed, look back casually, making the time we almost killed each other and ourselves nothing more than a punchline? We are polar opposites contained in the exact same spot, a constant push equal to the constant pull. And can you see us with the sight I have? Do you brag to the mirror about your innate ability to watch yourself from the bank as you're drowning in the river? Sure, I can see both sides of every story, but somehow I'm always too busy looking on to think to swim to safety. 1 touched by the muse| write me a poem

[27 Mar 2004|10:43am] Written on February 20th, 2004, 8:50 PM. ♥ a 6 month memory lapse- what's important to me and who i am- consumed by love... or was it? i had been judo and film, activism, nonchalant & never cried. angry inside. you broke me- broke me wide open- a cream egg dropped from the second story. and my filling slowly seeped out. did you like plain chocolate better? was that why? was that why you couldn't stand me whole? ♥ write me a poem

[27 Mar 2004|10:35am] Written on February 20th, 8:46 PM: A fake suicide note, from the prompt in beatspirit: ♥For years, I've been aware of these facts: We're all dying. Life is just waiting for death. I never learned patience. Her heart, so red and moist, dripped out onto mine when we lay close. Drops of life falling on this hardened biscuit thing within the hollowness of my chest cavity. In my mind's eye, it's floating there, tiny, brittle, and charred, with those red drops -like pomegranate juice- seeping into it's porous surface. Things grew from it then. The reversal of nature as we know it- death turned to life. And life turned to love. But her sugared hand has ceased to hold her dismal child, and I'm drying up inside. My exterior must manifest as my interior exists, just as a rotten fruit is known from its peel. Mourn mourning and not me. I lived only an instant and that instant has passed.♥ write me a poem

[06 Mar 2004|08:06pm] [ mood | dejected ] From a wordsdance prompt last week... given phrases to begin a poem, one of which was "I listen in on..." I listen in on the confused conking the spitting and heaving the rancorous kathunk kathunk-- that beat of your heart. From under your eyelids, leaking. And it's hot, and it's poisonous, And the wounds could be fatal from your battery acid tears. A smoother ride on the back of a bull-- I loved even your inconsistencies. Lost in this stinking steam pit of junk Graveyard of dried up hearts-- Yours, frolicking, in it's metal masquerade it's happy facade-- You've fooled the unfoolable. Fooled even yourself. write me a poem

[18 Feb 2004|10:46pm] [ mood | :( ] [ music | Norah Jones|Don't Know Why ] somehow i know -like i know the stars are out tonight- that i'm replacable that i was walking in quicksand thinking i could fly if i was pulled in too deep like a shirt changed, & another put on -tearstained darkness for fresh from the dryer- the radio's on in my head: something has to make you run i don't know why i didn't come spiralling -like leaves in autumn- everytime your face appears in my mind's eye & when we'd just met it didn't hurt to smell your perfume in the air or on the passenger seat of my car write me a poem

[16 Feb 2004|12:43pm] Yellow Summer is... Buckets of golden sunshine that make everything seem wide awake & beautiful. Happiness because of summer vacation or longer days or not needing a coat. Lemonade made for us to share with just the right amount of sugar. Little girls in sundresses running through sprinklers or jumping rope; how full of life children are. Sunflowers make me think of Ike & Harold and Maude & the Sunflower Sutra & what it means to hope. Surrounded by life because the open windows let nature in the house & everything is in bloom. Barbeques with friends and family with good food & good music & good conversation because it's the little things that enrich our lives. Lazy afternoons spent reading books bought at a used book store that feels like home. write me a poem

[15 Feb 2004|09:02pm] [ mood | apprehensive ] cracked: one word prompt from oneword.com. glance in the cracked mirror looking back at myself in pieces like so many others see me you only know the part of this chameleon i choose to show you write me a poem

[11 Feb 2004|12:53pm] [ mood | accomplished ] ladyteal posted her poem from this wordsdance prompt: A poem in the following style - (it should be reliant upon unusual imagery to convey as much emotion as possible). Three stanzas, three lines in each stanza, three syllables to each line. Here is mine, from the same prompt: pulsating stain dripping from my veins vivid life escapes me swelling breath tablecloth drenched throughout with my love write me a poem

I know most of you write. Make suggestions! Unfinished, rough copy, just a beginning: [05 Feb 2004|09:52pm] [ music | Anti-Flag:Protest Song ] Slashed by the realness of its devotion, Nectar gushes from its veins, Bleeding juicy bittersweet pain. Fruit serum drips from cuts & falls to the ground where Limbs are rooted into the earth. A Tree, growing from these drops of nectar, Forms her body. Branches entwined, Both with the same succulent filling. write me a poem

This poem sucks but it's an honest and accurate representation of my thoughts, at least. [29 Jan 2004|11:59pm] Once upon a time, You spun your web of words for me. Now I see you lay down that ink only for others. There's still a throne atop a pedestal Waiting in my heart for you. I don't know how it came to be vacant; I'd held so tightly to your hand. You slowly reveal the hardest facts & never just rip off the band aid. I thought you wanted my words, But percieved pleasure has turned to discomfort. The eternal optimist is dying in me But still I brace myself for your next swing. 1 touched by the muse| write me a poem

Strands of Burgundy [16 Nov 2003|10:20pm] [ mood | accomplished ] [ music | Yes, Anastasia/Tori Amos ] Sometimes, Your hair, I tuck Behind your ears, Because I know it will fall. And it amazes me That A thing Such as Strands of Burgundy Could cause A moment to become a Decade. write me a poem

for reinventedmuse [19 Aug 2003|09:01pm] [ music | Black Dove/Tori ] Strawberry lip gloss will forever make my heart leap into my throat, And your scent is so infused in my mind That people catch me smiling away at nothing And sometimes I think you're here When you're not. Music and flowers pressed (between us) in a book- I could never forget your eyes in the sunlight Like jewels, the eyes of my angel, wild and beautiful. The softness of your skin, my hands on top of it... Could anything you do be mundane? But it's your strawberry mouth that really melts me. 1 touched by the muse| write me a poem

Because I need more structure in my life... a diamonte! [28 Jul 2003|05:23pm] you beautiful perfect creating being loving lamb angel human misanthrope trying striving wanting imperfect cold me write me a poem

Sushi Haiku [28 Jul 2003|05:20pm] [ mood | amused ] Avocado rolls- Pleasing to my palate and Nourishing, as well. write me a poem

i'd forgotten i wrote these, but then i accidentally found them... haikus! [27 Jul 2003|09:38pm] [ mood | okay ] [ music | Superhero / Ani D ] Tattoo Haiku Ah, tattoos! All that Ripe, fresh ink in me; like fruit Nectar down my arm. Autumn Haiku Warm hues, amber light, Leaves spiralling. Cider hot Breath takes my world home. 3 touched by the muse| write me a poem

To Be Sated [27 Jul 2003|09:14pm] [ mood | wistful ] Tendrils of tresses Caressing your perfect peach cheeks... Your mouth is so round, Like a rosebud Or other blossom, And I think I could pluck it there from your face. But a loaf of bread is far more than it's crust- Your heart beating out some song that I‘m trying to memorize; Your smile is but an insight into your emotions. With every dawn comes new treats Flooding forth from your bounty, And I hungrily snatch up every one, For to know you fully is my longed for reward. Until then These tokens will have to do: The feel of your tongue Cleansing my fingers of mango juice And your obvious pleasure At the lily on your pillow. 2 touched by the muse| write me a poem

Untitled ...ditto, help edit/improve. i'd say this is unfinished as well as untitled. [17 Jul 2003|09:53pm] [ music | pea/rhcp ] Strap on A cotton tail, rabbit ears. Smooth panties lying on silk sheets With two hands. Fluffed bangs. Looks like Easter With a basket of toys and goodies. Pull back the outside- Cellophane, leotard- Rush in. Warm chocolate, thighs, eggs, sugary sweet, dripping deliciousness. Dripping everywhere, (drip, drip, drip) Candy can be so messy. Pink… jellybeans. Pink… marshmallows. Pink… Tongues turning treats in gaping, hungry maws. (drip, drip, drip) write me a poem

Clay help me edit/improve it, kids [17 Jul 2003|09:50pm] [ mood | accomplished ] [ music | hey, at least i wrote something... it's been awhile. ] To tell you the truth, your face looks like clay. Like I reached out And molded everything about you From the earth and from my mind. And when you're morose, it's my fault; I needed to moisten the clay, To add detail, or change a feature. When I use too much water you cry, And I don’t stop you. I haven't sculpted your hands yet, you can't wipe away the sorrow on your own. You shouldn't have let me have so much power over you. Couldn't you tell I don't know what it's like? I've always been flesh and blood, even staring at you, stoically, I can't imagine being a statue. But I’m not a merciless master, So with the flick of a tool, Your face erupts in a macabre grin. I sit back, satisfied, Never realizing I can’t touch what’s beyond the ceramic façade. write me a poem

[11 Jun 2003|09:53pm] buy zines because america is a media fed nation because the media's not in our hands because i'm not a white man because i'm not a conservative capitalist because pbs is only one channel because the television is stealing the minds of our youth because their agenda is everywhere because i don't know how it feels to not be lied to do you know how it feels to not be lied to? 2 touched by the muse| write me a poem

Poseidon [18 May 2003|09:00pm] [ music | Icicle//Tori Amos ] Emotions strewn about like dirty clothes or used condoms Standing, centered, in an empty room wondering where my family is, If I ever had one at all. And how about friends? Are you hiding there on the floor, Under the bed or that sock? Loneliness swells like waves before a storm Time to cuddle up to the sandy shore and hope you don't wash away. They say it heals all wounds, but it never really works out that way. Can you feel my pain, Poseidon? Do you see me sitting before you? Can you give me back what I've lost? I'm stroking driftwood, because there's nothing else here. No pebbles, no seagulls, no soul inside. My body is a cellar. A cold, dank, basement of a room, Where I store pickled poisons and candied fear. Every past embarrassment or betrayal Is bottled up and placed on a shelf Catalogued and labeled for future reference. It's why I can't let go. It's time to let go. Slip out of the basement and onto that sandy beach. The storm's still gaining strength Hasn't released its fury just yet. So for cover, back to that room, where no one and everyone is Just not me. I'll hide here with you, until I can face myself. Until I've gained enough strength to beat my hurricane, to burn the basement, That's when we'll remove the covers and breathe this life. write me a poem

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