1. the ex loop day after day after day living in videotaped loop, a pale, skinny, sickly beast purging exhausted emotions into that wringing wet pillow on the bed, a guilty remnant requiring burial, amnesia, overdubbed with anything, that’s right – anything but this…. shit. everyone tells me everything gets better, but I’ll tell you what…. their language is fucked, it’s unintelligible and it sucks listening to that recorded world, …the one that exists late at night… …in the dark with cricket clamor… …and motorized ceiling fan hum… remembering, reflecting, again and again; ad nauseum. the curtain closes, the sun rises and rides in dull predictable orbit until the curtain closes, completing the cycle and that explains that.
2. today, i'm lucky it’s a day like any other: lumbering zombie walk to pre-brewed coffee pot, tv tuned to the early show. a shower, a while to ready, a quick bite of breakfast, uninteresting hours wasted with nothing but a lunch to break the routine. then it’s a ride home, a coupla phone calls, plans to meet a friend to drink, to get drunk, to avoid reminiscing when it’s bed time. today I’m lucky, it’s monday, there’s football and newcastle’s only $2.50: draft. on the big-screen, #98 gets clocked by a full sprint flying cross body block and just like that, the moment prophesized of "everything gets better" is satisfied: the empty stool next to me isn’t empty, she’s asking me didn’t that look painful and I’ll never forget her timbre and pitch, her genuine, almond, coffee cup eyes, the corona of a cigarette smoke shroud, the angle of elbow propped on the bar lip as she leans in to pull with full, pursed lips. I understand: the world turns, peoples paths aren’t predetermined but somehow, in random intersection, elements coalesce into the miraculous… even on a monday night, 3 minutes to go in the third quarter. I understand.
3. two bodies, come together we were legendary,___________________________ writhing in entwined positions,________________________on the bed, in warm, fluttering candle light,________________passionately expressing pleasure________________________expelled promises to (as) a primal_____________________________scream, dreamed momentum______________________increasing, liberating our entirety echoed______________________soul fire bombs, faster and faster,_______________________a friction overload _______________in parallel increments _______________until mutual explosion. *note: I wish I didn't have to use ____
Thanks for sharing all three parts. This was my favorite line. I feel despair and remember what seems like endless years of depression. Hoping that someone would see me and not just someone but the one... the one who knows this shared psychic territory but chooses to block and numb with new lovers this unresolved space... leaving me broadcasting out, out, out into the nether regions of space... waiting to hear the reply.... but all is mute save the ceiling fan and crickets.
just finished reading these how the heart has to learn to live with all our thoughts.. if only we could feel each day and night for the moment .but it lingues on the tongue it spills out in words written or spoken . i feel a great fall may come before the morning rays wake us all. thanks for posting love n peace from saff to penatrate love is to be alone to find yourself...
thanks for reading and commenting! the beginning of this series is quite depressing, i agree... although I was hoping more of the "new beginning" would start making itself known towards the end of (ii); but ah well, the story shall go on, the direction becoming apparent, hopefully
4. developed events stamped it will end eventually, but when? we could collapse tomorrow, a cloud of shattered china shards to be remembered forever after with photographic clarity. you could take the car, the house, the cat, seek alimony in long, drawn out divorce proceedings while fucking my friends, I mean, that all but happened my last go around… I know you aren’t "her", that it’s not fair, but it’s not so easily overcome. 5. filling the reservoir these half days of time together only get better, the aimless adventure on the cereal isle, at the breakfast bars cracking jokes on the quaker oats guy, buying spices based on cool factor, complaining to the general manager for not providing foot pads for his cashiers; I admit, I revered the compassion that she wanted to act upon. the action left me wanting more companionship on the calendar. after dinner, after Dave Chapelle maybe she’d stay, maybe…
4. developed events stamped Crisp images of permanance and shattering a true evoking of anticipation... loved it. 5. filling the reservoir The half days and humor, ripe throughout, mixed with concerns and honoring. I really enjoyed these two. Thanks for sharing.
Wow...so modern, so -real life- for lack of a better term. It's almost unsettling how you can make such wonderful prose/poetry out of the ordinary and extraordinary subjects...There is not one poem that I can just talk about specifically because you're right the whole thread is like one continuous poem and I love it all...every word and every sentiment expressed, personal yet felt on many levels by the reader... Sincerely, your stalker
6. to wade the methanol channel science governs everything, they say that math is semantic and unbendable. maybe it is. I don’t know and don’t care if this latest union is only a number postulating personalities combination, it’s honestly unimportant. really. cuddling, she’s leaning in, melting beneath the afghan, her attention a vaporous intoxicant I inhale to wade the methanol channel dwelling on secrets she hushed behind cupped hand, in my ear. she’s playfully clutching my kidney, relaxing within our chemistry counting on numerology to be provincial, shaping mystical divinities into predestined positions and I don’t care. I don’t.
