|August 11, 2004
||Poetry to see and hear.
I just did an entry, but it was boring. So here's some poetry.
I want to share some poetry with you guys because that's just the kind of mood I'm in. I used to be such a poetry whore. The first one is one of my favorites because I wrote it after I listened to the book on tape version of Hannibal. It's really a very erotic story in some kind of twisted way. So here's that:
As he enters the confines of my divided mind
he closes the shades, opens the wine
my eyes are empty, my thoughts are dust
the trouble of lust
the world continues but time stands still
the vibration of my soul
I can no longer feel
heat has melted my weary mind
I give it over to him
he seems so kind
the cobwebs on his heart are so easily swept away
much to my dismay
Here is a couple I wrote when I was with Josh. He really brought out the tortured poetry soul in me.
We went to see Star Wars twice
after you ate your chicken and rice
but we didn't end up seeing very much of the movie
but what we did do was pretty groovy
we did it on the floor
I wanted more
but I was paranoid
that someone would open the door
I'm a whore.
This next one always depresses the hell out of me. I think it really captures the part of our relationship that was really unhealthy and desperate, two things I felt a lot during the time:
Untitled - Written in May, 1997
What was one a glitter filled chocolate donut
is now a fiery poisonous hell
He laughs at my tears
I pull my hair out
He slams the door on his ankle
Suddenly he is kissing me
and the donut is back
but later as I stab myself with my keys
and the poison is still there
my friends mourn my death
I mourn my life
My wish of happiness no longer exists
I get on top
he comes inside
he eats the nuggets
I go 60 down Northwest Highway
He lets me go when the song ends
or when it's 12:00
God, it's so hard to love him
and so hard
to lose him
my stomach hurts
my neck has those strange things in it again
I give my mom the number
Not caring about lateral cones and volume
pie equals r squared
so I write, and it doesn't make sense
F. Scott Fitzgerald on my mind
my bare skin
we worry together
on the pay phone in A hall
he accuses me
and I surrender
I'm not sure where this one came from, but I like it a lot anyway.
Where the Cobwebs Grow
there's a place where all dreams go to die.
It's a place with no sun and no stars
It's a place neither near nor far
It's a place where cobwebs grow
It's a place where we reap what we sow
Silver wishes and misspent sorrow
Where tears fall like rain on a rose
Where it is, your heart only knows
dream your dream, don't be afraid
In the ocean of hearts, you dare to wade
stick your toe in, it's not cold
don't be afraid to smile as you grow old
in the galaxy of hope, there's only two places to go;
dare to dream, don't be afraid to grow
or drift off to the empty sky
where empty dreams go to die
I think this one was about a chick. I am ,according to Matt, 99% lesbian. It happens.
Passion (From December, 1995)
My passion for you burns like fire
your heart is the object of my desire
Your beauty drives me crazy with want
in my dreams, your face will haunt
All I want is you in my arms,
is that to much to ask?
But you refuse to take off the mask.
For your attention he and I will compete
without you, I am not complete.
I guess I will have to step aside
When he comes around, it's like I have died.
I love you but now I will let you go
my love, I can no longer show
my heart has broken, my soul has died
my tears are no longer cried.
I believe this one was written during the Bitter and Angry Break-Up phase, circa the Ryan era.
Fuck you from November, 1995
Love is suicide
my heart has died
your heart has lied
my tears have been cried
your brain is fried
This is almost inspiring me to want to write more poetry. I haven't for a really long time, and that's almost a shame. Poetry rocks. Or something.
I will stop beating you down now.