Your brow. It twitched.

If I was not so weak
If I was not so cold
If I was not so scared of being broken

I would be...
I would be...
I would be...

- Frail/Jars of Clay

Her eyes.
And the pools that beseech them.

Good Sir,

You are very good
and that is good;
but,
good Sir,
unfortunately, I have found a flaw
that,
good Sir,
fortunately, you are very good at hiding:

........ahem

Good Sir,
I am good (in my ways),
and I am good at keeping secrets;
but,
good Sir,
do beware!

Well,

I have not written anything significant in a very long time. The confession of the latter sentence is both relevant and ridiculous, which means that I feel both absolutely justified towards my neglect and absolutely forlorn. I will continue to post as often as my brain and fingers will allow it, and in so mentioning let me venture to say that my brain has been ill of late. I will not disclose why or how, but indeed it has been ill. I fare you all good day.

Why is it that I don't stare back?

Gravity

I once thought I could fly;
I was wrong
because gravity really doesn't exist
and I'm not flying.

I'm falling.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.........for a friend of mine (God wants to catch you)

Gulp.......what an interesting solution to a very unexplainable situation.

Why is it that you stare at me when I'm not looking?

Blank

Air is air
and once it's gone
it's gone.
Oh air, how cruel!
why couldn't you be more
then air just air?

- For Val's little boy

He seemed absolutely oblivious of her, something she had hoped against hope not to notice. But she had. And then, he looked her way. Gulp!

A thought that fell into my head

Everyone depends on someone, like an independent clause depends on a dependent clause. It's an unwanted and forgotten fact. The irony in this fact is that no one knows just who that someone is until they're gone.

Le

Frenchwall, frenchwall
why do you haunt the
everywhere I go?
I thought I would paint you
and then I would lose you
to another painted beau.
Tis not so,
the clouds they show
that walls they do not cease
to be of le Français.

Walls in the Shadows

There's something very frightening about the walls.
You tell me there's nothing frightening about the walls.
But there is a frightening wall;
it's to the right
of the not fright,
on the left
of the bereft,
across
from the cross wall.
It watches the walls
as they watch the sleep fall.

JESUS!

The piano drifted to sea
just when it thought it should.

I dare you to look into his eyes,
and then I dare you to feel the same
as when you didn’t look.

(For one of my characters in one of my stories)

winter is a drought to me
summer is snowed in,
and my heart is black so black you see
black as it can be.

The City

i'm gonna run away again,
i can feel it in my bones.
fuck this!
fuck this city!
fuck this life i've made for myself!
i'm gonna run away,
but i realize as the tears run down
down
down
that i can't anymore.

i just can't.

(i'm sorry that there's so many swears, but i had to get this out, and it needed to have the swears...this is dedicated to my friend Aaron. poetry isn't just about ryhmes and beautful flowing words for me anymore, it's about people and circumtances and weather or not i'm willing to share them. there's so many different forms of poetry, and he's helped me to see the beauty of the swearing way...haha. but seriously, sometimes things are the way they are, and you can't make them fancier. i've tried to make things fancy all my life, and by admitting this it doesn't mean i'll stop (i'm sure i'll never, ever stop) but it means i'm fine with unfancy things. i've come to love unfancy things as much i love fancy things, and fancy.......if any of this makes sense then i think i should win an award, but seeing as it doesn't, i'm fine with winning nothing, i'm fine with having this blog and being able to write. what would i do if i couldn't write......? Aaron you're awesome, and thanx for being who you are:))

mystery (mis'te re) n.