A hypothetical medical testament to the
Cylindrical ventricle, circular chasing of white red
Washing and racing cells, telling their tales, never setting a spell,
Fighting the foreign like hammering nails, swallowed like plankton to whales
Adapting in battle; Going from overwhelmed to "give the helm"
The unstoppable colossal apostle of the mind: the body, allotted
Many millennia into the equivalent city walls spinning and grinning with purpose
Immune, complex and adapted as the nervous,
A system built like blatant poetics of nature, is it possible?
Can we become perfect? The body, the database, planning and building
The Encyclop
Anoint my head with His words
Drown me with lies
The rawest eloquence
Salome danced
And he spoke
"Grant her all she will"
Perform for the life of another and
Claim the prize: adorned in silver
Placed upon a platter
A jaw agape, head hanging.
On whose shoulders does it fall?
Innocent feet in fervor,
Feverish and sweating
Shiva's blazing fire
"What should I desire?"
The child condemnable for asking.
Guilty.
Innocent contagiousness
"I have swallowed Him"
A throat pumped full of Heaven
A prophet, a coat of divine lies
A wasteland of man.
Guilty.
Innocent edge of error
And hardly the lifeless knife
Nor the disjointed ha
Let's delay for drinks that swish to best match the mood
To best suit the dish and amazing
Talk with the candles all blazing, gold plated;
The sensation received and reciprocated.
Imagine things were always this good
That in dating we never felt so dated
Imagine my words were spotless in phrasing
And we'd make our exit, arm and arm,
Forgetting the last of our food.
We'd pass in snowy summer streets dancing
Sideways to the sound of rubber bands
Orchestrated like explosions
In the key of rain, skyward glancing
Our mouths so keen to catch the breeze
That tastes of staccatos
A scent of fall leaves, and reprieve.
Thin arms then str
Can you remember the day in the rain?
The wind sang in whistles all while whispering to the leaves
Who followed behind the thought of your hand in mine
With curious eyes pulling closed the curtains if we spied
Such infidelities.
It was the dust of Winter, the hints of Spring
And the trees had entered, dressed in ribbons of green
Yet still pale next to your eyes
And the trees had entered, making us their guest
Yet pretending we werent there
Yet pretending they didnt care
It was a mystery with no witnesses, no evidence
No clear intent, an honest innocence
Like children with guns in hand
Forgetting them to be kings in s
But at my back I always hear, Times winged chariot hurrying near
And yonder all before us lie, deserts of vast eternity.
-
It was on a midnight Saturday
The apex of the Summer, the breadth of July
The last welcome coming of age
Long and far Ive wandered through life
Short and still short though have I lived
And somewhere within the take and give
I begin to question, have I lived
And do I even know what that means?
In death shall we meet life, just as in life we meet death?
And I, still sitting in a high chair called youth, called bliss, called ignorance,
I wonder.
-
It is the fate of every error, of ever
Our hands are raised
Sheltering our opponents eyes from temptation
And carefully we weigh the probabilities
Each move worth our weight in chips
Picked for the seeds we sew
Quick to throw away our hearts
Waste away on our sets of diamonds
Misuse the clubs our friendship builds
For the curling the spades of gain
We seem to play an all-in game
Putting in the least all we can muster
How indifferent repetition grinds us
In the distance from pot to pot til
Our voices hoarse and hands are cramped
Still wagering forced as mules
Watching sullenly for the field to clear
We start poor and hope for two of a kind
And luck soon fi
Each prayer granted
Upon our slanted eyes
Looks that cant be held
Were edging along skeptic steps
How far and long can we climb
Til ends meet and we drop together
Freedom in futility
Its humming about
Listen to the space between
Breath and blinks
Blush and sinks
I love how you dont wash off
Can you believe
In beneath our connotext
Struggling to make out
From tattered scraps
The right in long erased maps
We can scan devices
The compass until magnetized
That decides us where to go
At least well know where we stand
For minds to ignore meats
For thoughts to move as feet
To race from fear to spe
How many people do you know?
In places of passing like
department stores and parking lots
well raise our hands and pretend
to know the others last name
just like strangers pretend to talk
answering how are you with how are you
before either rushes off in pursuit
doing anything else they can find.
In these places Ill break a sweat
under the glowing hot whites
of passerbys who just burn me up
because they spit out how theyve never
seen a perfect outline of someones ribs.
And with every step Im weaker
under the bulging weight Ill crumble
alone in my room my walls are pinups
and pos
If I can sell it, we were single celled to start.
And if you are buying, we are born of pairs
ironically dependent to it from that day forth.
So I may need a hand
and as it happens, you have two
so lets try not to be selfish.
Now lend me your ears.
You may or may not know
but on the cranial coastlines
you call a head, you have two.
Statistically, if you are good at
hide and go seek with the opposite sex
exchanging secrets instead of spots
you could potentially fuck yourself
but Ill try to make things more clear.
Truthfully I mean to get married.
Even though after a few years
these two are the same thing
for you a
Shun the single frozen pillow
Fight the warmed west sheets
Wage war upon the heavy eye
To deepest carve into he
who could forsake the dream
in barter for eight hours of
rest in peace.
---
The zero two median
Décor royal, knighted men
Would you could you see us then?
The pocket, the liar
the palm, the briar
wisps prompt
the flow and hill
my boulder forth
up and back to spill.
Mills churn breeze
while waters freeze
as Fahren and Kelvin
argue degrees
[the honest meaning of lonely]
Peer into that seeming expired
scheme of the mindful
with trudging work
wielded spear
of me.
It:
shines/reflects|/guides/deflects
t
A hypothetical medical testament to the
Cylindrical ventricle, circular chasing of white red
Washing and racing cells, telling their tales, never setting a spell,
Fighting the foreign like hammering nails, swallowed like plankton to whales
Adapting in battle; Going from overwhelmed to "give the helm"
The unstoppable colossal apostle of the mind: the body, allotted
Many millennia into the equivalent city walls spinning and grinning with purpose
Immune, complex and adapted as the nervous,
A system built like blatant poetics of nature, is it possible?
Can we become perfect? The body, the database, planning and building
The Encyclop
Anoint my head with His words
Drown me with lies
The rawest eloquence
Salome danced
And he spoke
"Grant her all she will"
Perform for the life of another and
Claim the prize: adorned in silver
Placed upon a platter
A jaw agape, head hanging.
On whose shoulders does it fall?
Innocent feet in fervor,
Feverish and sweating
Shiva's blazing fire
"What should I desire?"
The child condemnable for asking.
Guilty.
Innocent contagiousness
"I have swallowed Him"
A throat pumped full of Heaven
A prophet, a coat of divine lies
A wasteland of man.
Guilty.
Innocent edge of error
And hardly the lifeless knife
Nor the disjointed ha
Let's delay for drinks that swish to best match the mood
To best suit the dish and amazing
Talk with the candles all blazing, gold plated;
The sensation received and reciprocated.
Imagine things were always this good
That in dating we never felt so dated
Imagine my words were spotless in phrasing
And we'd make our exit, arm and arm,
Forgetting the last of our food.
We'd pass in snowy summer streets dancing
Sideways to the sound of rubber bands
Orchestrated like explosions
In the key of rain, skyward glancing
Our mouths so keen to catch the breeze
That tastes of staccatos
A scent of fall leaves, and reprieve.
Thin arms then str
open your eyes
your house of cards transparent
as the satin sheet
forcing you abroad,
let go the burning rope,
mouths moving, no truth.
her grey blanket,
his one true blue dependence.
screaming surrender.
our flickering lights,
a fort to hide your beating
heart, all walls crumble.
white upon your gray,
signs dancing in the windows,
don't you remember?
the sixth rule broken,
4 to be torn from the 2,
watchers see future.
shadow hidden words,
respond like a winding maze,
cracking metaphors.
the five seven five,
phalanx march upon your house.
inevitable.
Footsteps in the grains of the endless wave
Forever stirring but not changing
With each and every moment, the metamorphosis, the alpha to omega
Never repeat must I the refusal of the green clad to the red
Mother, chase away the orange jester, unrelenting
My dying question, why the 3rd?
The fruit, at fingers length, forever taunting
The once straight line, now twisted and broken
Survive does the rage of a last stand until the beat stops
If the beat persists, was it a last stand true or a new delivery?
Return the absolute, blue to white and back
Plummet the loving black imperfections to soap the conqueror
Solace in the repeating wo
Arise the triforce in chaos,
Kilamanjaro, bury us all.
Facing worlds, 3 acute to obtuse.
Coded with in the pallete.
The emerald eyed,
The snow wrapped,
And the wanderer emersed.
Distance like inferno to 9,
But ever connected, forever tied.
Neon solutions, to blind or def
3 to 1, 1 to none.
Opposing combinations,
With winter the common.
Catepillar to butterfly,
Encasing, cocooning.
Shower in the beam,
The gleaming, the glassy
Blinding lights of change.
The defining, the cherished,
The silence…
the broken rhythm of absolution,
because of you.
the specks of the vast,
because of you.
knowing bound resolution,
because of you.
the jigsaw halted,
because of you.
the assembly breaks,
because of you.
exit the cave into silence,
because of you.
snow widespread eternal,
because of you.
dreaming awake, 1 to none,
because of you.
the patient muted cube,
just for you.
Split the golden line,
Millenia to 1, start from the cave.
Shut the windows, speak the deity
Blind, the anger and safety.
Gleaming 4 shapes at once.
Hide the rage of spain,
And bath in the remainder,
Touched by the mold of evolution
The carriers break and fall to the night.
Scream silent, surrender, uncontrolling.
Fling open the blinds
Your lost arc, your crucifix mounted hill.
999 loses to the single,
0 degress the abyss.
Sensing the anti lost.
Extend the grasps and fall quiet.
The needle falls,
All pairs turn to face the center.
The vibrant metropolitan of idleness,
Reduced to an echo, breaks ago.
Emitting from the stage,
Belt of Orion condensed.
Bathe in the 16th worship,
An orgy of 5, surrounding.
1/6, increment of theories,
Touched by the infinite,
Angles removed, the rest meshed.
the patient cube, now alone.
Dropped to perfection.
The metatron to encase me,
"I must be dreaming."
Current Residence: Raleigh, NC Favourite genre of music: Inspired Operating System: Windows 7 MP3 player of choice: 120g iPod Shell of choice: TMNT Skin of choice: Penelope Cruz's Favourite cartoon character: Captain Falcon, Eeyore, Psyduck Personal Quote: "Man's life was purposeful motion." -Ayn Rand
Favourite Visual Artist
M.C. Escher
Favourite Movies
V for Vendetta, Eternal Sunshine, Fight Club, Brick, Vanilla Sky, Inception
Favourite Bands / Musical Artists
Explosions in the Sky, Circa Survive, Tool, Coheed & Cambria, The Mars Volta
It has been 2 years since I have last updated this journal. I just spent about 20 minutes reading all my past posts and it's really strange.
Since my last update I have finished college and moved to Raleigh. I work at a Credit Union and live in a house with one of my oldest friends, Matt, who used to let me sleep on his couch when I dated Lara.
I am a very different person than the one who posted here last, and I can barely remember some of the ways my brain worked for some of these poems or what some of the earliest even mean.
What brought me here is the fact that I wrote a new poem for the first time in a long long while. I wrote 2 or 3
Most recent poems from my last day in the hospital. Possibly going to transcribe my scribblings from my most recent manic episode. I really love T.S. Eliot.
I miss her very much everyday.
My life has been attempting to fall apart and I have instead taking to falling with it. It has been glorious.
Updating this for the same reason that I always do. A reminder for the next time in my life that I feel inspired.
I met an amazing girl. She is wonderful.
Inspiration is buried moderately by the amount of papers that I should be writing and am not. Shakespeare is fascinating, and complicated, and beautiful. I've been kicking around a few ideas so maybe there is more to come from this.