The Silence of Two

2011-12-18T15:30:00.000-08:00

my death is one of the many options that may break the dawn,
the next time around.

one of the many options that would break no hearts, scar no one.

i'll be there, beneath, with a smile.
like a jack-of-box.

good night

luminescence

2011-11-26T11:52:00.000-08:00

there is no day, now.
no night or no day.

just a flow of time:
pouring down the bend like a dark viscous tar.

to new beginnings

2011-08-18T14:57:00.000-07:00

from the midst of all the darkness, dirty fights , and ugly words,
i speak to you.

i speak to you in my plain and not-so-twisted language of gloom.
i look beneath the surface where all the battles come into play,
i look beyond the scars where dark memories are kept.

i love the godly sparks in you.
i love how they lighten up the mighty darkness.

i am somewhere floating: low and high.
but my heart is stuck, in bondage, in bliss:
with nowhere else to be.

my heart echoes of your name as it bleeds.
love me as i love you and the dream will resume.

the dream will resume and the life will unfold.
love me as i love you, my elf. when two hearts collide, only bliss will ensue.
but they need to collide. they need to be pulled into orbit.
by divine or supernatural or by intelligence.

change the controls for the heart of your beauty.

in'cum'bus

2011-08-13T11:11:00.000-07:00

of roses.

i thought in that naive vortex:
all done, said, acted
were of roses.

in the nihilism and dim sparks of my current viscosity
i dream of you: the places i touched on your body
and where i simply forgot to
and where i didn't have time in the demise

of roses and a million blue quarks,
i dream of you. i come to you.
i come within you.

yet of roses. only of roses.

bondage. bondage. bondage.
without an exodus ever from you.

woes/false.

2010-01-28T15:25:00.000-08:00

in the possibility of the windfall of my past doings,
i drain the vividness of certain colors:
as in blue.
as in red.

i plant false memories in my being.
false memories.
drain me colors now.

slipping: outward in.

2010-01-18T10:23:00.000-08:00

repent, my dark one.
repent so that your secrets are hushed in the abyss you dwell.
repent so that the divinity that penetrates you redeems what is left.
repent, my dark one.

repent into my ungodly gloom.

orphan i.

2010-01-16T12:32:00.000-08:00

Yet, it is via numbing the pain with some chemical that you will breathe again;
that you will sleep again. We are selfish when it comes to ourselves:

very selfish.

fallen trees.

2009-10-28T12:45:00.001-07:00

inside the witch's old acorn dream and visions,
taking steps; rights and lefts and rights again.

blue. all is covered in blue in this solitude.
jet blue. baby blue. wretched blue.

i retreat to silence when my words fail.
yet: the blue stains all that resonates.

My blooming heart, and my bleeding bride.

2009-10-26T18:58:00.000-07:00

I am lucky to have found you. I feel that every morning I wake up next to you.

I feel it every wicked hour of the night when my demons are haunting me from my sleep and I am staring at the ceiling listening to your silent breath.

I feel it every time I feel that sense of family with your parents. And I know I am overwhelmed by this, because at times, no matter how hard I try I become overwhelmed. I shrink, I dissolve in the room, I become "me invisible".

You asked me if you are what I deserve as a partner in life,

yes:

you are more than I ask for, more than I ever asked for, and more that I ever was lucky to ever get.

I love you with all the blooms of my heart,

I love you with all the booms of my heart.

I love you till my heart ceases to utter my existence.

Flowing restless inside.

2009-10-26T18:57:00.000-07:00

wandering in a haste of forsaken dust,

i, stunned, by the resonance of my nausea with the old/ancient/broken world,

i, collapse in shades and a million different constellations:

when i look up and down: you appear.

standing up straight.

2009-05-15T09:28:00.000-07:00

tumbling down again, through the blizzard of hearts and aces.
then, stretching out again, standing up straight.

it has been a while, the ups and downs,
the bliss and misery entangled all in one.beneath
the surface: we are full lovers. we are one.
we are full blown lovemakers, a couple of divine messengers.
beneath the surface, we fit like the collosial thunderstorms after drought.
we fit as if we'd never let go.

i find in you things, and i hide them away.
so that:
the things i find are carved in the wretched and transcended memory of mine.

u n d e n i e d

2009-04-27T13:36:00.000-07:00

... and today, your presence falls onto the shadows of my past as a newfound sun would.

spinning webs.

2009-04-18T13:21:00.001-07:00

let us dwell into the ancient art of laundry today, baby.
let us wash the bed sheets and the love stains on the covers.
let us hide in the cowardice and embarrassment of our love.

what has become us haunts and shakes me to my essence, my beloved:
i am not ready to let go of this now,
just not ready as i was seventy-two days ago,
watching you walking up the escalator.

i am spinning deathwebs here without you.
whilst you try to match the balances in your head:
compromises, independence issues,
where your people fit and where mine.
how our histories come coming, tumbling, into this.

please believe me when i say
i am not the fuckmachine that they make of me nowadays,
i just try to avoid my own deathwebs, that's all.

sleepwalking upside down: blue

2009-04-14T11:08:00.000-07:00

oddly enough, there is no other you in this world.
nor in this life or the next or one another.
there is no other you in this world,
and my blood has no shape and my soul conforms to your vessel.

in the next hundred years, after the demise and the fall of us:
it is the dawn of the ultimate and a prosperous pre-millenium fuckfest,
this is the aftermath of a million lives that have been wasted on loves undone,
souls shattered, souls broken down, and my beautiful sister has been the witness all along.

i will say it so the cursed winds will drown in the postmodern valleys of Valhalla,
under the blue and in the red and over the pitch black of the animadversion of my true friends,
my sadness towards you is intrinsic and luminous.

i slide as the pitch black absorbs me before i absorb the new memory,
so, during my blue fall, i repeat so i remember:
my blood has no shape, and my soul will always fit in you.

Lullaby

2009-04-03T14:04:00.001-07:00

your latest find will hopefully find the sleep and the dream of you tonight,
as you storm across a mediocre midwest city:
as you barge and fall and stay divine.
as you barge and fall and stay clean, untouched, and divine.

[in the halloween of souls that pass by while i write these lines,
(while i secretly seek a mikvah in the new found enigma)
and, of the everlasting thousand-yard stare in the aftermath;
while beneath the skyscrapers of my past love:
i am counting my distant dusty lucky stars.]

your latest nothing will speak in tongues now,
in the beginning, he will hide behind things;
be cryptic, dark, and unnecessarily complicated
-and in the masquerade of the yesteryear where he was denied bliss;
and in vain,
and in the black vile corners of the past,
as he tries to evade the human condition inside,
as he retires in the blemish of his demise:
he will seek the light of the distant stars.

and maybe there are no distant stars at all,
-not promised to him anyway-
but the wandering will go on, and a rogue desert will be crossed.

for now, for the hand that writes this:
it matters not if the aura fades away not for a day or for another eclipse;
or "this and that and the other".
for now, it is only about what it has been, what it is, and what it might have been.

out here in the metropolis, when the moon wanes,
we all sleep alone.
and
when she spins a smile, i return a kiss.

a million memories.

2009-03-06T08:12:00.001-08:00

beneath it all,
it's all about letting people in and letting people out.
and this is no exception.

it is about having that space you can open up to someone else.
and it is utterly about if that person wants to move in that space.
it is confirming that within you, you can be open again.

i am solemn and sober now.
knowing i said all that i could and i would, and i tried all i should.
i can only be the kind and understanding man i always believed i was inside.
and can't blame her. pretty sure she tried in her own ways.
but guess when it doesn't work, it just doesn't work.

i suffocate in the little place i have:
i suffocate when there are no names that go with the actions.

seeking meaning within:
piles of words, little gestures, and some good times,
which will all be comfortably forgotten when blended in an ocean
of a million memories with another million faces.

and when the bridges are already on fire,
why would she and i try and recycle this into something
that it wasn't meant to be in the first place?

clearly, this is not what she wants. she is looking.
clearly, this is not what i want. i am looking.

the spins we wanted to put on this didn't quite fit into my definitions or hers.
we were solely what we were till we turned it into a self-fulfilling prophecy.

this is not the first time that i need to go while i really am not ready to go inside:
but i will. it will only be the right thing to do. for both our sakes.

and the thoughts of what could have become of us given enough time and space?
unfortunately, as always, i can live with not knowing:

there is only now.

watchmaking two

2009-03-02T18:12:00.001-08:00

while you question if i want to be with you,
while you are not sure if we will make things work:

the watchmaker has gone back to his desk to work.
meticulously, he started putting the pieces together of his craft.
the watchmaker started giving us meanings,
giving my life meanings.

while all essentially stays the same, after the touch of the watchmaker,
quaint everyday objects start to blossom:
rains become thunderstorms, random happinesses become bliss.

with you by my side, though maybe this is too much in the air,
with you by my side, i find colors in life,
i hear little whispers more. i love music more.

i have motive: and my motive is you.

less words.

2009-02-26T09:09:00.000-08:00

ticking away the lost minutes of an otherwise mostly pretty night:
inessential words said under the influence and in the heat of the moment.

words said just seeking a meaning:
as if without a blatant meaning we'd mean less.
and this happens since i can't unlearn what i learnt in the years past:
everything had to lead somewhere before i met you,
every action needed be accounted for,
in the big scheme of things.

now, before you, i put my head down.
i watch my shoes as you talk.
i never thought i'd feel this way for being solid with what i want.
with you, it seems like i am not just solid anymore.

i feel rigid, and i need to break this uncanny state apart.

watching the maker.

2009-02-24T21:22:00.000-08:00

i dare not say anything while the poem reads me.
while the uncertainty takes over and i become the drifter.

i dare not give meanings to little gestures,
to whispers said in the heat of the moment,
or kisses given taken here and there.

i dare not say things that might change what little time we might have together.
i watch the watchmaker as he works,
i watch the great black widow as she weaves,
and i watch as the silence in me breeds a language of its own.

i dare not disturb the watchmaker, or give or take a kiss or two:
as it unfolds, there will not be any surprises for me.
i have taken care of that. it's almost fool proof.

the laments.

2009-02-20T19:02:00.000-08:00

this is for the past times:
this is for the times when we used to write "no future" on the walls.
this is the lament for the times immemorial,
for the times when we used to fuck and get attached.

it is different now, and i have walked this way all on my own.
i walked all the way, no hitchikings, no detours:
i ended up exactly where i wanted to and this is why you are not here.
this is for that night we ended up in bed,
when i immersed sparks in your head, in your flesh.
this is for the night that ended before the sun came up.
this is for the times we kissed in the backseats of cars, in the middle of jazz bars.

this is for a lot of things, a lot of reasons, and not for the accidents that happen.
this is for me. this is for you.
this is the lament for the bruises and moans,
this is for the whispers and intricate lives.
this is for what we might have had.
this is for the accidents that didn't happen,
the kisses that didn't flow,
the beautiful people, and the nailing-you-to-the-bed sex.

this is for a lot of things in my head.

for all the things that now drown inescapably in the loneliness this road took me.

perplexity.

2009-02-18T14:18:00.000-08:00

I'm full of feelings, but can't gather my thoughts and write.
I'm overwhelmed,
Do you hear me?
Overwhelmed.

masks and vividity

2009-02-10T15:23:00.001-08:00

from now on, this point on

i will keep this to myself.

i will deal with this in the way i'd deal with a disease.

silently, but certainly. definitely.
i will keep this all to myself now.

i am putting on my mask now.

i am putting on the mask

i never thought i would ever need.

that ring

2009-02-09T21:31:00.001-08:00

that ring was not the ring lovers give to their beloved:
neither was it another checkmark on a to-do list.
it was beauty in the sense that it fit you,
it was a commitment to life from a defeated man.

it was elegance in the sense that i promised i would become you,
it was an ascension from dreams to a brick home/
with solid wooden stairs.

with solid wooden stairs leading to the baby room,
to the bedroom with bedside tables with drawers and mirrors,

and vivid flowers by the window before the heavy burgundy curtains.

it was serenity in the sense that some dancing would be inevitable.
it was a divine broken moment that the ring just eluded.

the diamonds could not rust,
the everlasting could be promised.

that ring was more than i could ever carry,

and a while after, when the ring was made an orphan,
my abyss, my inner turmoil became me.

so i wish now, after the thunders and amidst the calamity last months have brought upon us:
that you would keep that ring and keep me yours along.

2009-02-09T19:30:00.000-08:00

why? because...

2009-02-09T19:29:00.001-08:00

out of the womb...

2009-02-09T19:24:00.000-08:00

absolutely not poetic nor poetic justice.

2009-02-05T10:14:00.000-08:00

love is an enabler of things more than anything else. like a friend handing over some martini to a recovering alcoholic.

it drives us through life: makes us do things that we would not imagine doing otherwise:it is the source of the ultimate altruistic behaviour. it is the one to which every action we take is directly or indirectly related to.
love is what builds a home between two people, it is what gives the children all they need and keep them alive,it is what makes an eighty year old man dance and sing
it is a justification for doing anything we would not have the balls to do otherwise. it enables us cope with jobs we do not like, it enables us to lead happy lives with not-so-perfect people. it makes life bearable, seemingly meaningful.
but love also has a dark spin to it: love makes us take risks: risks, as smart people we are, we would suggest others not to take. love makes seemingly better and happier people out of us:
yet, unexpectedly, not for free: for the price of being vulnarable, and the unavoidable chances of seeing all that you care for being raised to ruins, for the price of driving faster than the speed of pain on the highway to self-destruction:we can love anyone. we can love anything.
love enables things, we normally don't have in us in love we can deal with situations we are not remotely familiar with. we cry, we weep, we suffer, but we keep our head up when all is under the auspices of love.
love switches on the path of destruction, as I said. love enables forgiveness.love enables us to forgive things that pave the path to unforgivable things.
and in my case, in this very day, in this cold ohio winter: it enables me to love someone that I should not love. it enables me to ask for forgiveness for what i have not done. it enables me to forgive when all i have forgiven will eventually and unwittingly repeat themselves. it enables me to hold onto something so very strong, when all that i love, in fact, has fallen into pieces.
love is decisively redundant, love enables you to love. makes it all worthwhile.
yet, love is still suicide. and it is time i walk off the window sill and have a sip of my own poison.

d r a g o n

2009-02-02T20:14:00.000-08:00

i am a d r a g o n

that f e e d s on sorrow

and writes and reads

and writes and fucks up.

and, yes, i do breathe fire.

from time to time.

our great debate

2009-01-10T14:55:00.000-08:00

will we be able to create or discover a new world
: you and i :given we have finally exhausted this little one that we had.

in the same streets and sorrows:same old jobs, same passionless dark winters in the boroughs,among the past ghosts we tried so hard to bury behind

in the same cities and plane rides:

same old wordlessness and those snow white nights, same corner of the couch i write to you when they are asleep

when you are asleep
in the same ocean that we so hoped to eliminate:

same midnight conversations, a few sad and warm words
a little missing.
a little passion.
a little lust.

a little us, again.
and again, a little

us.
can we create the world that we always wanted
when this attempt has gone sour?
hold the hand:
hold the hand that will take you one street down, my love.

w'int'l

2008-10-21T08:03:00.000-07:00

oh the winter blues.
the cold touching my bones again.
sunny and cold, the ohio cold.

inside, the inferno.
where and why and how and why again

certain things don't get easier as you do them more often.
like the radio silence that won't be broken for a while,
the estrangement, the slow and painful pulling back.
the withdrawal.

and my all eggs in one basket:
a basket that i seeked all my life.
it doesn't just seem like, but indeed in reality,

there are no more baskets.
no more hopes or belief in doing this all over again.

when you came into my life:
we were scarred, both of us, severely damaged.
stripped of our trust and unconditional love.
had learnt our lessons, one might say.
not to give again, not to be open again:
because they had taught us so.

every window we had opened to them had to be shut down,
one by one.
those windows that we thought we had sealed everytime someone walked out.
we let an army of another march in.
we loved the invasion, we enjoyed the war crimes.
we gave in our flesh to believe this was the one, for a change.

then we came along.
you for me, me for you.
as a surprise at first, nearly an amusing twist of nature.
the constellations finally finding their way back to our day of rebirths.

it was difficult at first, with you and me, i mean.
to find the windows, open them, let the other in.

but we did.
oh, we did.

with scarred souls, we opened up sealed places.

but,

i didn't do my best.
i didn't do my best.

and my scarred soul in a sacred place
in a medieval place:

seeks to be saved by the hands that did the job right the first time.

vicinity in vivo

2008-10-20T07:48:00.000-07:00

death comes in different forms in life.

death comes and goes.

like a year ago, for example,
the car spins, the airbags deploy:
you come out without a scratch.

death:0
you:1

then a friend dies,
a part of you dies with her.

you caress the memories, go through your drawers,
finding any meaning - anything at all
that proves she existed.

death catches up with you.

death:1
you:1

then people in your family start dying,
grandparents, your distant cousins.

death takes a toll on you.

then some other friend you haven't seen in ages
that you probably would have never seen again in your life
:your age, your city:

death makes the case clear.

then, again, all this time
all through these deaths, your heart was clean:
your conscience clear.
while knowing you will never catch up with your nemesis.

then..

the final blow arrives.
you create a triage, try to assess the damage realtime.
rethink countermeasures, bring in the contingency plans.
bring in alcohol and nicotine to ease the pain.
but the heart fails.

but the heart fails.

now you know:
it was all in vain since your first fucking breath.
you were never meant to catch up,
but you were just to watch:
while death comes and sweeps away all that you have ever touched.

t r u t h

2008-09-05T08:44:00.001-07:00

i dance in circles in the lust for you,

i take a deep breath in love and sleep away.

one street down

2008-08-25T15:54:00.001-07:00

we're falling into another world: a world that was one block down the street
(while we were sleeping on down pillows, buried under the snow white covers)

there was always this one street, just one block down.
we both had some friends (you and i) -the strays mostly- who would dare to tread that street
-in the wee hours of the morning mostly-

and when they returned:
they would have their stories.

their stories never sounded safe or sound or sane.
so, you and i, though we never knew each other then,
we followed each other - we didn't go down to this one street, one block down.

we were told it was a dream what you experienced
that it was dark, cold, and spread sorrow

but you and i
plant seeds in a pot
clean up the balcony
get new furniture

in our little terrace.
on this one street down, one block down.
you and i now belong.

words and intentions

2008-08-23T13:05:00.000-07:00

i am perfectly capable of producing sentences
that people will note
(oh, yes, been there and done that)

saying things that shake people
that people remember
or saying controversial things and standing behind them.

and i have, in my possession,
the patience to explain my actions
/and the balls to take responsibility

that is not the hard part.

dancing by the ocean on white sands with you
whenever i want/feel like:

now,,,
that is hard.

another time and place?

2008-08-23T07:26:00.000-07:00

and i had packed my dreams and my life.
found a nice rock by the beach and sat.
i'd be waiting for my spring to come now.
maybe for the spring that would not.

thunderstorms and i

2008-08-21T18:27:00.000-07:00

now, again, it's that time of the day. e. time of the day for me.
all the anxiety, stress, fears, and weariness is gone.
j. and i. are asleep, and so are you.
and while you all three sleep, i enjoy the three of you.

outside there's a brutal rainstorm, with thunders and lightening.
i realize i never told you this: there are only very few things that calm me down as much as thunders, and the sound of heavy rain do.
probably because i keep much to myself, i enjoy the outcry of nature.

and it is these hours, i feel completely yours... without doubt... beyond doubt...
i have fears, e. you should know that. i am scared of losing you.
i am scared of pushing you away by being so difficult.
as i said, beneath the passionate and heated arguments and puzzles:
i love you, and my love is strong,

beneath it all, i find a woman i have spent 31 years waiting.

a confession for you:
when i was a little boy, well, when i was a teenager really
-in my blanket era-
-in my ugly duckling era-
i always had this hopeful, but tearful thought running in my head.
"where is she now?"

this "she" being the one i will end up marrying one day..
the one that will bear my children...
the one that will come to me one day
:just out of the blue:
and say:

"here i am. it is all over now."

i used to wonder for endless nights
will she love me till my bedside becomes the witness chair for my demise?

will you be there for me, e.?
to close my eyes and say a little prayer for me?

will you be there to see the last glimpse in my eyes?
will you be there to give me the last kiss goodbye?

i feel whole in you, babe. bear with me.

don't go anywhere, and..

we'll grow old together.
we'll grow old together.

w'eatheral abyss

2008-08-21T18:17:00.000-07:00

the thunders and the lightnings again.
the sound of heavy rain. open blinds, wind blowing in.

one set of eyes gazing outside this time.
the cats in. my bed empty.

you are very much wanted and needed in this dark home now:
to open and tear and to steer the old soul to lucidity.

welcoming e.

2008-08-21T10:14:00.001-07:00

draw the curtains on a previous life
draw the curtains on what might have beens

circle out what you want
what you need
what you crave

write it on a feather
climb up and conquer your biggest fears
and when you are there
:all the way up:

smile and remember:

you have walked into my life and nothing will ever be the same.
and this is merely a beginning.

come inside.
i am yours to take.

viscous and flowing still.

2008-08-19T20:35:00.000-07:00

you shake me to the point that i am speechless
to the point I, :the man of words:,
find myself staring at the world with new eyes
but with less words
with more ecstasy
but with less words

sometimes a meaningless stupid gesture
will break the moment
sometimes an unclaimed baggage item
will compromise all

but we'll come out strong
and proud and in shining armor

we'll come out breaking the frozen soil
breaking the snow
against all the odds

like the snowlily:
it bends time and space.

:Seeking Heat:

2008-08-19T11:00:00.000-07:00

seeking heat, and our flagship on fire
the flah-flag-flah ship on fire
and the ships - they ain't dancing pretty as they sink!

|heat seeking, or the seeking heat
under the old bridge, we crash
:you and i:
my goth bride, my goth love
after a long fucking drunk love night in that club the freaks like us frequent
i will take your hand, and after the long ride
we will crash under that bridge
and i will seek the hand that carries me
through the miseries and loneliness of thirty-somethings|

an ethanol nicotine divinity burning machine
i become in your rogue absence
and i
i
i

i become the angel that we seek
and the angel becomes us
and i
i
i

i become one i hardly recognize
in the ecstasy you bring along into my life
i burn in laughter
i burn in sins
and i
i
i

i become a story of us
and our story becomes us, we skip the lies
the fuckers, the insane, and the sluts
who once laid their hands on me
and i
i
i

i curse the night i wander alone
i take your hand under a moonlit bridge
and make you mine
my goth one
my goth love
and i
i
i

i seek the mirrors and miracles that were promised in a past life.
i stand tall/and seek the heat/ and the flagship
the flagship that carries the misery
the lament for dead friends and the griefs for years lost
and the lost souls that seek us
the flagship
the flah-flag-flah ship.
and i
i
i

goes down. fast, rapid, the galleys gallant.
the flames spreading, an intrepid moment as
the flagship
burns
in blaze
and i
i
i

smile thinking of the future our life holds.

there are no angels where i sleep tonight.

void and unscattered

2008-08-18T18:24:00.000-07:00

"write me a story, if you have time" she says,
while i fall from dreams into dreams.
and in my head the songs start playing...

s o b e r

first, this comes to my mind...
begging to be sober, whilst being scared that if we were
this would be just an ordinary love affair
-hence-
we're more beautiful when we're drunk the way we are
but
i do not want to complicate you
i do not want to open holes in you till i pour out

i want to stay
:till the very day:
i want to stay
till we're a mother and a father
till we're partners in crime, we're the lost-and-found ones
till we're the loved ones
till we're the accepted ones

till we're not bleeding anymore, into or out of
not bleeding, period.

c r e e p

comes second. because this is our song.
despite the harsh cold fucked face i show to you from time to time
this is our song.

mark my words.
you are more than i wanted.
you say things and the nuclear storm inside me stops
:a bad memory is erased:

you give me velcro gloves and i cling onto life better
:i cling onto you better:
i can love you better, i can be a better man for all i know

you say things, and the snow stops

...........................and the rain stops
...........................and the pain dissolves
...........................and i cry in pain inside

i see you.
i see you with my new eyes
................with my babyfresh eyes

sometimes, (i have learned with you)
you fuck up when you are faced with what you always wanted.

this is not you, this is me.
i am trying in my own ways - to become relationship material again.
no need to lie to you
i have loved and been hurt
i have loved and been burnt
i have loved and been broken

but this time
it will be for good.

i am preparing for the last try,
the last push.

it is either you or no one.
it is either you or no other one.

t h i n g s: for e and i

2008-08-15T18:22:00.000-07:00

flowers and stuff.
all neatly capped and done.

wrapping things up: from the past
and wrapping things of the immediate now
because: when we are married, certain things must have been left behind.
i once had books to close. to wrap up.
with bookmarks in them, sitting around, waiting to be closured up.

when things matter, we choose our words more wisely, don't we?
not clumsily as in the daily life way of things. not in the mature world, either.
we dance to the hymns.
of the moth and the othman
and Marilyn Manson and the Covenant.
we dance silly, hedging between the truth and seriousness of the divine moment.
we say things, we hear things,
we miss things.
in the greater scheme of things
we watch the wars on tv, and see the celebrity damned

we build up dreams of dreamdust and know the realms out there.
sometimes we wake up inside a dream, unable to talk, scream, or run/

our flagship is on fire!

Six Months

2008-08-12T18:41:00.000-07:00

eyes open. fireworks in the sky.
the camera zooms. and the camera unzooms.

i find things in my night, i stumble upon them as sleep approaches.
corners of my heart covered with dust and shame are opened wide by the priceless peace of knowing i have found my one.
i remember things, many many things.

i am getting a better perspective of how i ended up here.
and why i have all the scars, and the damage.
being a victim of victimization of my own.
that is harsh, but regardless, scary.

maybe that is what i (we) did up to now with each other.
we blamed the past for the future.
we blamed the things that happened for things that are happening in the very moment.
maybe we need zen now.

maybe we need an order to things. an order of things.
maybe we need to let things of our past lives go.

mark my words:
we fit each other just fine, it's the scars that get in the way.
what i mean is:
if we were to be high-school lovers,
if we had met each other before we were damaged
(though not granted, of course)
we might have ended up together for once and all, and:
smooth and painless that would be.
if we had found and learned what love is supposed to be together.

i feel guilty on my part for the shit i brought in this house / in our house.
maybe it is time, with the fat and diseases, i let my scars go as well.

Counting Pieces

2008-08-12T07:29:00.001-07:00

waking up and shaking the dust.
every day for the last hundred and eighty days plus thirty-one years.
waking up and shaking the dust of the past
"shaking off the dust that i shake off every day"
yet, it settles back on me every night.

at night, the disease and the dust and the fears
ride the subconscious mind.
echo and echo and echo.

and when i wake up my soul, my deep thoughts look like
a summerhouse in winter time.
the fun is gone. the colorful plates are in dusty cabinets.
the fridge with an off odor in a dark kitchen.
comfy chairs and the pretty white dinner table in a dark living room with burgundy heavy curtains.
this is how my heart feels when i wake up.

a lot of work to bring the the joy back to the summerhouse .
a lot of dusting and housekeeping to be done.

and then...

we talk. the dust is gone. the shadows disappear. the rays penetrate the house:
it is a divination. it is a blessing for the poor soul.
it is the promised homeland, it is the long awaited messiah.
it is you. it is my dreams coming true.

there's a reason why we are the way(s) we are.
there's a reason why we are scared, insecure, and paranoid at times.
:and in the great scheme of things, that's alright:
we come from the cold
we trip the light fantastic

we hold each other tighter: much more than we used to hold others,
:long before before you meant the you in my life:
we make love, skip the long competitive fucks
we substitute lust with an everlasting glow
we substitute lust with a ruby passion and intimacy

(because we know the night will always end,
and assholes and narcissistic sluts never exactly make the cut to be lifelong friends
the kind of friends with whom you raise children
with whom you spend the autumn of your life sipping late afternoon coffees on a porch with no flag on)

we substitute a lot of things with a lot of other things.
not because we are settling though, no!
on the contrary, because we know better.
because what we always needed was not what we asked for or received.

now for a change, with open hearts, we walk towards each other.

so;
when we hold and kiss, it is just not another couple making out
when we make love, it is not another couple finding poor excuse for a good fuck.
it is a confirmation - it has been since the first time i held you in my arms -

a confirmation of our standing in life.
it has been a statement.
it has been in the things that go unsaid.
it has been in the subtlest of gestures.

"things that go unsaid:
i am here and yours
i am here to stay
i will protect you
i will shelter you
i will be the one to keep your darkest secrets
i will be the one who never betrayed you
i will be the one that will be the shoulder you hold
(both when you cry and when making the wild love)
i will be the one to make you the soup for sick people when you are sick
i will be the one to father your children and take you as my wife.
i will be the one who will need to give you all you need from a partner in this life.

and, hence,
i designate you the person to be there when i give out my last whimpering breath. "

songs and movies
poems and e-mails

all in all turns to one thing:
when we connect, you become the thunder in my life.
you make my heart tick, and the song stops.
and the movie ends.
and the poem doesn't have enough twists and wisdom this time.

:when i count the things that make me me nowadays
you end up in every piece:

in and out. then, it's you.

2008-08-10T22:17:00.000-07:00

so many places, so many stories.
so many stories, and so many sad places.
and stories which echo in my dreams here and there.
in and out. then, it's you. then the dreams of the stories,
and then the stories of you,
the cycle goes on and on, yet:
we ride the waves, and we dream in destiny.

today is a sad day for me.
birthday celebration for a dead friend.
she and her mark in my life puts things in perspective.
just one more sad story germane to understanding that:
all life is perishable and we are not here to stay.
we need to leave our own marks and legacy.
there's not too much time, so we must hurry!

not clumsily, not in the klutz way of things though, but again,
hastily, determined, and persistently we must walk/run,
and by any/some means we must proceed.
we must keep the dance on, we must run towards each other and do the embrace
do the sway, do the stutter, do the stumble
and then pull it all together, and do the wedding dance
and then rock the cradles, raise our children
and leave the legacy, leave our legacy.

not clumsily, not in the klutz way of things:
we must come together, and do the dance, and
experience all that comes with being surrounded by family

next to the one, life assumes another gear:
a walk on the beach becomes what driving in dark at insane speeds used to be.
the adrenaline rushes subdued by the joy of a breath of calm
a breeze on the porch, the color of the maturing pumpkins and tomatoes in the backyard
the glitter bugs at night

one side heroin, and the crazy alternative youth.
drugs, alcohol, and late night cabs to crash at someone's place.
(thinking about it,
how easy it was, to go crash at just anyone's house those days)
and then we played the games just like every one else.
we got burnt, we learned the hurt, we tasted disappointment.
we walked past giving up, we had a smoke in front of "i deserve better"
we said things we didn't mean, we heard things that we very badly wanted to believe.

i was saying:
today is a sad day, but!
in a world that nothing can be granted for:
i have found the best i ever could have wanted.
in the arms of my beloved, in the arms of my e.,
in the arms of this woman. my partner in crime.

i give in to the sleep with these thoughts wandering behind my pretty eyes.
and i will visit so many places when i sleep:
so many places, so many stories.
so many stories, and so many places.
in and out. then, it's you. then the dreams of the stories,
and then the stories of you,
and i will hope coming out of it with you holding my hand,
while i softly caress your cheeks (which i do very often in my dreams)
i will come out of the dream, knowing that:

finding the peace in your arms was probably the most astonishing thing that ever happened to me.

אור חזק עוקב אחרינו

2008-08-10T16:56:00.000-07:00

there are certain things
that lovers say to each other
:at night, in bed, after sex:
things that flow freely as an ancient tale

things that matter the most
things that don't make sense after dawn

there are certain things
that lovers say to each other
:doesn't matter when or where:

these are the things that carry you a lifetime
and, i think |silly me|
these are the last things the lovers remember.

before they ride the ferry to the other side.

Posted by The Silent One at 5:02 AM 0 com

Beauty Beneath

2008-08-09T11:38:00.000-07:00

the more we uncover of each other, at least on my side, the more i find in you.
as your walls come down, you reveal another level of beauty.
the beauty beneath.

this is so new, yet so beautiful.
so fragile, yet so strong.
so sudden, yet so dark.

this is twisted.
this is twisted in the realm of the majestic art.

but i do love you in the best way i know how:
i open up and i hope the best.

as crazy as it sounds:
i am ecstatic about what this could drag in.

:and your beauty beneath is serenity in disguise:

this is my cocoon.

2008-08-07T21:29:00.000-07:00

in another world:

in another world, i have said many things, done many things
got my heart broken and broke a few hearts
i thought of my life [in my former life, of course] in:
circles, storms, chaos, one binds to another and falls apart.
i thought of life in different terms, in another world, in my previous life.

i let the winds shape my mold a few times
:let things be:
but, more often than not,

i was the one to charge the winds, hurricanes, and volcanoes of wise women, and wise friends
it is a genetically imprinted behavioral process, mine is.

i will stray away from the shepherd and the sheep
i'll wonder away and charge the wolves |and, i will not stop|
i will charge the tigers that charge the wolves
it is a genetically imprinted behavioral process, mine is.

and, once a process is repetitive, when it is done over and over again
it becomes a second nature.
and the second nature creates patterns.
and, eventually, the patterns are recognized, demystified.
the patterns inexplicably become you
the patterns become who people see in you

a long shot, is it not?
what you started as a means of defining yourself becomes how people define you.
how they perceive you, how they act around you.

|i need to make a note here. these are the stages of my life i need to explain to you not in english, not in hebrew, but in wine|

and it becomes a vicious cycle.
you are not who you really are, and who people see in you is not necessarily you either.

this was years ago. long ago.
most people stop at this level: and live the life they created.
a wind charger, a sheep out of the flock.
and if you want to throw people off one more level, you find in time
in experience, in all the people you met the most precious gift of all
:rendering the vicious cycle irrelevant:
you achieve the state of patternlessness.
and the natural autcome if this state:
randomness & unpredictabilty.

the ultimate disguise.

and at this point, the challenge takes you to a new level.
at this point, no one knows who you are.
you don't know who you are.

this was not much long ago.

and at this stage, you find yourself a cocoon.
you dig your head in silk. you let the silence guide you, as you guide the selflessness out.
you push the elements that were not you out.
you sit in the silence, wander the not-so-safe urban streets at night.

you go through a stage where you go out (on your own) to a bar
get a drink, and you pay for the observation opportunity.
see what it was to be normal.
how simple people handle life.

and you go back to your cocoon. silk soothes you.
and just as you emerge from the cocoon:

you realize who you are again:
yet, this time you know what you want.
how you want to establish your relationships in your new life.
what you did wrong, where people went wrong.

and all this complicated, insane wait is to end soon.
you know it. you feel it.

|when i was in and you were out, you were in and i was out!|

and you walk into my life. touch things. shape things. kiss a thing or two.
you make my bed, you transform my apartment into our home, and you do, yes, give me my dimple back.
uttermost, you make me believe again.
All i want i find in you.
i have what you want.

the zen cycle is complete.
now, i can let both of us to sleep.

knowing that we have found, won, and achieved what the genetic material in us always told us:
find the mother for your child, find the father of your child.

i have found all i ever wanted in my cocoon life, e.
you are my and only.

(when you can say the same things written here, we'll be an item of extraordinary source)

and i want you to wrap me well before you bury me.
the right way. the jewish way.

i still shave every morning.

love you more than what would fit into my stupid letters and punctuation marks.
i want you to be the mother of my children, and my wife in life.
smile now.

and remember:

i still shave every morning.

blue in flame

2008-01-25T17:04:00.000-08:00

internalize internalize
take someone else's pain
and put it into mine

internalize internalize
my flames burn a bright
burn a bright scorned blue

legacy

2007-12-14T08:27:00.000-08:00

my name will not be carved in sand
and my words
will not be written on stone.

i will wander on the desert, though:
take my soul for a thrill ride
maybe say things that will
mean something in the moment

i never meant to leave marks on people
never wanted to change a soul
never asked to be remembered
never asked to be important

it looks like
the wind will blow strong that very day
and it will rain for eons

nature will make sure:

my name is not carved in sand
and my words
are not written on stone.

Deep and Strong...

2007-12-12T19:20:00.000-08:00

"there is an intricacy to every silence in the world:
it is against the nature of things"

sometimes silence between partners assumes
an unfamilar/cold face

it doesn't mean love is hiding in the drawers somewhere
nor does it mean love will return
:this moment only marks a moment:
and that moment grows and becomes a landmark

-or a hallmark even-
of how two hearts fall estranged to each other
and sometimes it is rescued by a coincidence
a word muttered in the right moment
a trivial gesture
an unexpected response

sometimes love is rescued:
but more often than not..

it is not.

(...)
"And.... A blinding light is following us..."
(/...)

my missing ones.

2007-12-08T12:30:00.000-08:00

the sickness and the disease
and my missing ones

the sad ones that the distance puts in our hearts
the undeniable sadness
the ones one brings into between the two
adding to the distance

when one subtracts the
communication
from the greatest love story of all times even
:which is not what we have anyways:
it falls into pieces

everything that breathes does.

the expectations
the desire
the wrong timings

just a sad story now.
(it has become one in the past two weeks!)

what does one have
when one subtracts

the desired one from the desiring one?

shifting shapes

2007-11-24T14:07:00.000-08:00

into my circle room
that you are yet to enter
:amidst the thunders:
into my room full of balloons

into my darkened room
and the kafkaesque mysteries
you walk in: yet, you do not enter
you walk: yet, you do not integrate

into my circle room
and the blossoms and as we walk
"towards the within"

we change shapes
we change skin
we become the shapeshifters

and as the shapeshifters we have become
an organic mist breathing fire
when i am in you

when i am in you
we shift
and

we preserve the forsaken,
the haunted souls

that we have become.

remember me.

2007-11-20T21:24:00.000-08:00

It is even stronger now
after all that happened
stronger and deeper

stronger and deeper.

please let her know.

wither (an ode to Sylvia P.)

2007-11-18T17:34:00.000-08:00

i sometimes think
:honestly:
will my death solve certain things?

in the depths of my personal inferno
i'm dark
i'm darker than you think
suicide has always been there
giving me kisses here and there
like a long-time beloved one

in the streets, at work, with my boys
i wear the mask
i become the mask that i wear

...a little too much wine
and the mask will fall

and i will become me
fulfill the prophecy

and i will become the me that you hope that i am not
and surely:
i will deny the you that denies me

only when my seven roses start to wither
i will be ready to go.

keep my ticket open, for now.

קרן

2007-11-01T21:08:00.000-07:00

my ישראלית neighbor - my blood
my wine
my personal muse

she smiles and the nomad stops wandering
and the nomad clears the ground
starts planting seeds, starts farming
he grabs a chicken and sticks her in a cage
builds a home, cares for his woman

she smiles and he surrenders to evolution

settling in the midst of nowhere
:and in the unknown lowland:
he seeks a family in her

my israeli neighbor is a muse
and she draws me as i write her.

v'ulgar

2007-11-01T19:53:00.000-07:00

special forces storm through my heart
at early dawn, with infrared vision
looking for things i have not seen in a while

while special forces storm through my heart
war is at the door in my homeland
and i hear radio chatters in my heart

all in my heart is compromised.
but, still:
not all in my heart is me.

sev'ere

2007-10-22T13:40:00.000-07:00

and the song will just play on:
as the riders and them on their horses
come through the fog

through the mist, they bring the uncertainty
-it clings onto me-
and what clings onto me
icannotshakeoff

all i once wished to forget, forgive
bury, forget, burn, forgive

you and i will be fine.
this is not your fault.

j'oin

2007-10-10T22:53:00.000-07:00

:here is to a beginning:

walk into this now

walk into this with your thunder
:with all you have:

shake the void heart that you find
c h a l l e n g e

it is only this way
we will be full
:and we will go somewhere:

our song

2007-10-08T16:18:00.000-07:00

a one, and a two, and a three
was it made in the heaven
the constellations
and the prizes

and a four, a five, and a six
blushes after blushes
coming, and going, and sucking
and leaving

and a seven, eight, and a nine
dizziness sinking into the head of
imapoet/youreapoet

and all the "we die young" tirades

and again:
a one and a two, and - ah three
sickness and the betrayals and my heart is oh-so-old
and i have seen this and seen that
i licked my own wounds type

and a four, five, and ah-six
rain and thunders and i'm oh-so-old
this is our song - this was our song

and a seven and an eight and nine
drastic measures saving the brethren
and the tiny ones always leave first
my heart turns to you
as yours is sealed.

my heart turns to you
as yours is sealed.

A Broken Lamp

2007-10-06T10:52:00.000-07:00

it is all out of a dream that we fall
that we build and we fall out of
:as we fall:
the promises, the wine, the candles
and the same old confessions/after a year
and the beautiful dinner

the song you make the band play for me
"only for me"
so that i watch you dance.
/for your dark one.

so that amidst the thunder, you hope:
i find peace.

one hundred and fifteen

2007-09-23T11:58:00.000-07:00

this is just a new world for both of us... hard to justify. hard to explain with the limited vocabulary we have.
when we talk about betrayals, broken hearts, and departures, we're damn good about what we do not want.
but now at the age of thirty, we are finally faced with what we desired all our lives, and yet that renders us out of words. maybe that's why there's more "small talk", maybe that's why there's more sexual conversations.

not because we're deteriorating.
not because we don't know what we're doing.

nor it is becoming less than anything that we intended it to be when we walked into this.

this is merely our becoming.

with this "evolution", comes the undeniable urge to "adapt" to this very new place ("Our Place"). And this is not the easiest thing for a woman/man who has always known what s/he wanted, yet was denied consistently in her/his life despite how devoted/selfless s/he was.

within the boundaries of the language of the unloved, we're damn fluent.
that is a given.
yet now we'll have to learn a new language.
a very distant language that involves reciprocrity for the devotion and the love.

sixty-seven

2007-09-23T11:42:00.000-07:00

i dream of things. then, i leap from dreams to dreams.
then, i fall from dreams - and it hurts to see sometimes
-you know the feeling-
just as i get used to the dream
and start getting somewhere
-unburying the hatchet:facing the past:the demons of my subconscious mind-
and i fall out of the dream...
the dream ends abruptly, and there's still more i'll need to face

coming from my p a s t
and probably
from your p a s t

abruptly,
i walk into this now/with a vision of you,
and i fall

with the smile on, how much faster i go under.

thirty-four

2007-09-23T11:35:00.000-07:00

now she's in her bed. she sleeps with her angels and devils.
it is another valentine's day
and he's all fired up for her...
opens up the gates
/the floodgates

his boys
his ex
his home by the airport and
his cats
and the three bottles of wine

will that suffice to let them i n t o each other's world?

thirteen

2007-09-23T11:28:00.000-07:00

and I can promise you no dark-blue eyes to drown in. must be a glitch in my dna. i am to live with what i have. i am to breathe with i have. not a tall handsome prince i am, as foretold as in the classical "prince charming"-type fairy tales. not a tall and handsome one i am, yet i keep inside realms that no prince dared to tread upon and a heart open and gold.

one hundred and seventy-two

2007-09-19T17:51:00.000-07:00

we are beautiful. we are silent.
and we are cold.
all in all, it fuses into our beauty.
and we try to let our past go.
and it sticks to us like velcro.

it transforms into something divinely sacred
when i think of you holding our baby

turns into something equally crazy and sick and twisted
when i dream of us making love

wild wild wild love
we're a wild bunch. we're roughly staying in balance. only because we're a match.

we fit.
as in i'd fit in you.

andyoudwrapmetight.

one hundred and sixty-nine

2007-09-19T17:44:00.000-07:00

we have a million things to talk in person.
things we need to sort out, establish before we take steps forward.
we're not playing games, we're merely weaving our intricate web.
the one that might one day become our future, our children, and our home.
we need to be thorough. careful. painstakingly careful.

we need to put our pieces together. and make one out of two.
and, more importantly, leave the pieces that don't belong to us out.
this needs to be new.

this needs to be ours.
this needs to be foolproof.

this needs to be beyond words, touching, lovemaking, promises, kisses, diamond rings, and the wedding bells.

this needs to be the way.
this needs to be solid as it can be.

it must become a second nature to both of us.
without us even knowing.

one hundred and sixty-seven

2007-09-19T17:39:00.000-07:00

on a summer night.
windows open - breeze flowing inside.

and a bed.

and on the bed:the long awaited moans.

longing.bodies.fusing.into.each.other.
kissing.whispering.dancing.
tangling.penetrating.

a little dark wine in between.

confessing sins.

and maybe a trip to take a sip
and maybe another to catch a breath

but then,
again, and back:
on the bed.
and the moans.
and a bed.
in a half-lit room.

kisses.uninterruptus.
voluptous.greedy.lips.yours.mine.lips.
drowning.suffocating.bleeding.
dying to breathe.
moaning.whining.moaning.

all breaking with the sentences uttered few months too early:

i love you. please marry me as you take me young.

y o u

2007-09-13T18:25:00.000-07:00

: d i v i n e :

in the divine realm of things,
in the realm of divine things

she smiles at me
she smiles with me

the charm returns
the clover spins
the dice rolls

and it is beginning now.

we will never be the same.
there are marks that will be left upon us.
and on our walls.

Jarhead

2007-08-17T08:21:00.000-07:00

when will I utter the following words:

"this is my woman.
there are many like her, but this one is mine.
i am nothing without my woman,
and my woman is nothing without me"

minus the possession and being nothing w/o each other part.

ve..

2007-07-13T02:36:00.000-07:00

ardinda kalani bilmeden gidiyor

ve

(sessizce) gidiyor simdi o...
yuruyecek cok yolu var ikimizin de:
ama ondan sonra baska bir tarafa yuruyorum ben
hic yurumedigim bir yere

zorlamasiz, yalansiz, yalin
bir yere

dokunmadan dokunuyor o
zorlamadan, ama en dogru sekilde..

ardinda biraktigi izi bilmeden gidiyor o...

...her heart like no other.

2007-07-08T09:25:00.000-07:00

here is to going away again:
yet again with too much to fit into my small heart.

i stand tall
and
leave a big piece of me behind.

i am less
than
i ever was

i am broken
than
i ever was

and i am in love
more than
i ever was.

she will see. she will see. she will believe.

...i trust her because
i have read her heart like no other.

a nine and a nine and a nine

2007-07-07T01:15:00.000-07:00

an unjustified hope blossoms in my heart
when i learn i will see her for yet another time
before my departure

who is she to provide false hopes and then withdraw unilaterally
who is she to take my heart to places that I refuse to go
and how does she do that, lulling me into taking a walk to only the very dark places

i have been here. and she's the woman that I once planned to spend all my life with.
that justifies all.

that justifies even being destroyed.

Same Old

2007-07-04T01:22:00.000-07:00

Death comes and death goes
in the little severed heart
along with the thoughts of the old
old - that was new not so long ago

i take my steps away
as always
with caution

and the dream that they call life moves on

embedded in a protein deep inside my brain is a thought of you
little more chemical signaling

and what used to be us
will become our history
minus the pain and the hope

hey, after all
we were nowhere when we started.

love is suicide?

2007-02-27T20:22:00.000-08:00

i open up my world to her and my words.

so...

not much i can say here

no,
not anymore.

6th Avenue

2007-02-07T19:31:00.000-08:00

in manhattan
she gives me her hand
/guides me more like
into her suite

and we look down
i tell her after 9/11
and she tells me the before 9/11
it had impact both in our lives
so we need not talk about it
t h o r o u g h l y

and in her tiny suite
she has feng-shui
and extreme tidiness
giving hints to her executive job

makes a drink.dances for me.
dances not with me.

we do our thing.
and as i take the very long ride down the elevator
into 6th avenue

i know we have done our thing.
and our thing would be all that we did.
despite the exchange of the beautiful words.

Eagle's Gift

2007-02-05T11:19:00.001-08:00

I am already given to the power that rules my fate.
And I cling to nothing, so I will have nothing to defend.
I have no thoughts, so I will see.
I fear nothing, so I will remember myself.
Detached and at ease,
I will dart past the Eagle to be free.

(Not The Silent One's own work....)

st-icky

2007-02-04T11:15:00.000-08:00

she's tougher than kevlar inside
within the perfect beauty

she handles all my words like teflon
all my words, all my songs,
my life

and in this realm of patented materials
kevlar
teflon

i will go with the fifty-pence-a-piece thing

i'll come off like a post-it

and leave.

tear in a dream

2007-02-01T15:35:00.000-08:00

i am his friend,
and he makes me smile.

does she

2007-02-01T15:18:00.000-08:00

does she know that i think of her often
inside a cold spot
inside another

the dream inside a dream
of all the unspoken
of the childhood
and the stories of abuse
the stories of loneliness
the stories of smoking & writing all night
the unbelievable

in my roots i am one
as no one else is
i am more than my sum
and my sum is more than me

seeing her just throws me off, that's all.
does she know that?

walk away

2007-01-26T17:27:00.000-08:00

she ends my sentences before me

and
she looks at me in a way no one did in a long long time
it's almost as if:
she sees through me
she wants to see through me

and in the dark
"you're a beautiful boy" she says
and she takes off her clothes when i am outside the room
"you wanna get it over with?" she asks

y o u
the next morning
i strive to be your "dark one",
and not hers anymore
yet you will disappear before my dark unfolds

that is the prophecy, isn't it?

i unfold the peace from the crumbled wrapping
i hold it before you
falls out the safety
from the same box

come on

run away

i

know

you must.

lest we feel

2007-01-23T16:58:00.000-08:00

of beauty
of outstanding beauty
and of outstanding angst
we speak
nothing less

and that beauty and
the outstanding angst

is what she walks out of

n o w

she found the judas in me
at least once

and that was more than uncalled for.

belgium somewhere

2007-01-20T17:33:00.000-08:00

and we speak after a long while.
i'll say it again:
your name dwells in this room. in this house. in this city.
everywhere that i have ever been.

even in your absence,
you mean the world to me.
you always did.

4:12 am

2007-01-18T10:28:00.000-08:00

...and Keiji always had some wine for me.
as we would slowly move to her room
with a huge balcony w/ nectar bearing flowers
she'd be fixing me a drink, as i said
and, yes, she always had a drink for me
i had heard that she had other stuff for other friends
like some pot for stoners,
like some "h", for the junkies
and some pcp for the freaks.
but for me it was always some tea / jasmine flowers
or wine/ dark red/ portuguese

"and there are certain things in life..." i say to her.
"that will touch your heart"
and those things, you will know that you'll remember
all your life
as they happen

you will be in a place, for example
that you heard about before
in "other people's lives"
and you lie there with a bleeding heart
and just smile, and you say "this is how it feels like then!"

it was 4:12 am.
and we were both sweating, but it was ok.
something we both had been longing for. belonging.
and it felt only right at 4:12 am
to be his woman. to be her man.
to belong
and w/ anguish we moved on.

and that teaches me:
there are certain things that pass between a man and a woman
even a full night of fucking with another can't take away

give me some more of that, Keiji!

"and there are certain words in life"
that you don't get to hear very often
like "you're all i ever wanted"
like "i want to bear your children"

but right now,
like "a ghost doesn't need a key"
nine thousand and nine nine nine
Keiji must know her stuff well

and now i understand that there are also certain elements in love
that keeps a man up all night

"yet i never brought anyone any trouble"
Keiji confides in me.

and it would be a long shot now
to stare at me as a long waited friend coming your way
while my heart turns to you

and, Keiji:
"there are certain things in life"
you will remember
only when metal comes crushing your bones and meat
at a hundred and twenty-five miles an hour

there are certain things you'll remember only in that split second
- for the first time in your life
as "words become names become voices become faded become long become silent become bright become vortex become dark become alone become nothing"

nothing.

de void

2007-01-16T19:30:00.000-08:00

devoid of real sadness
and real friends to share the real sadness with
we turn to strangers -
intrigued, she finds in me more than I have

being devoid of real sadness starts it all
and the loneliness it brings along, stars tonight
and under a lucid sky
and sealing the gate
within her and i

we're all expandable now.

long time gone

2007-01-15T07:34:00.000-08:00

she is my opiate, and i am her pcp
and we fit just fine.

: she is my opiate :
she eases my mind, even puts that crooked smile on my face

: and i am her pcp :
i give her visions her sad small-town lovers never did
i give her colors/lights/ and i stop the time

she is my opiate, and I am her pcp
and we fit just fine.

words that we exchange

2007-01-09T07:52:00.000-08:00

words and words and words that we exchange
in the middle of the night

she says:
"you always have a way with words - i just noticed, and it woke me up"
and i say:
"and i guess you always have a way with your hair...
...it always seems to tangle us up as an angel hits the ground!"

now we're awake, far past midnight
so we screw like two strangers
with not much care for the other for a change
our love void
selfish

in the morning, i smiled when i remembered this:
if the neighbors next door were to see what we did
-instead of just hearing-
they would surely know

we

a r e

wild and careless

not only loud.

b r o k e n

2006-12-05T10:00:00.000-08:00

and she disappears for good.
after all that we talked and promised
she disappears for good.
this is the adult (not-so-mature) world that I don't want to belong in.
this is broken.

No 14

2006-12-04T05:05:00.000-08:00

and your No:14 says:

you are undeniably beautiful and intellectual
and you might even be more than what most men would ever want in a lifetime
but we have just met, haven’t we?

and
after friday
what if i walk now
or
what if you walk now

i will go remembering you
taking all the late night talks with me
remembering that you indeed exist - somewhere up the street
-but not necessarily meaning we’ll even see each other again-
rather, knowing that our paths once crossed, and that it wasn’t that bad

my selective perception of you
which goes a long way before it crashes into the black
and the muse and the clown
and all that is sad

and whose steps am I following into this?

first we talk for a while
and then go get some wine
and berries
and you will not touch your wine
and i will not touch the berries
but we will kiss – and it will feel right for the night
-anticipated-

but I am no one’s boyfriend/lover

i am not anyone’s anything

but, T., this boy likes the thought of you tonight:
this boy likes the thought of being yours
the thought of being yours alone

if not just for

t o n i g h t

and we stepped into the night
and we kissed into the night

like two lustful teenagers
it was not
like two strangers
it was not

maybe more like someone you wanted to meet
someone you wanted to take your best shot at
wishing that you and her, as in she and i,
as in you and i
-and i beg of you to bear in mind that i never lie-
maybe will find a space to breathe
a safe harbor
unattached to the outside real/fierce world

be unconditional for a change
and
take unconditionality for granted
for a change

and now
forty-eight hours later

i want to walk towards you

but, instead,

i’ll remember how you told me you’d never disappear
and that thing you did.

maybe, i could even have handled your secret, who knows

this is just wrong.

you.... oh, you!

2006-11-23T19:07:00.000-08:00

1982 - 2003

a sunday thing

2006-11-19T15:11:00.000-08:00

and it was when I first met you (it was a sunday) that I realized an aura around your being: and that was unique. you were different, and I knew I wouldn't need months to notice that - you'd let me know (that same sunday) that you definitely are. and you indeed did.

and it is no secret that, those of us who have walked past the dark/deep/painful corridors of the past relationships have this -almost innate- instinct: when we see the one that will cause no harm, the one that we are not capable of harming (this being more significant than the first), we just know it. there's nothing that special about it really.

i thought i would put it down regardless - always good to have a record.

when the next one could be the last, especially.

daddy is a little sad tonite, sweetie pies.

2006-10-09T18:53:00.000-07:00

your daddy is indeed a young daddy, by the way. he has been in a million in places with a different him, with a different identity. he does have stories he cannot tell you boys. Your mommy could never be convinced about how your still-a-grad-student-can't-help-you-now daddy had seen a few more places more than most have ever seen and that, also that, it was a part of his training.

What kind of training: your mommy will never have more than a few words to say. In a microcosmos, because, we were, nevertheless, the ideal match; we were the ones that would be the parents of you: the ones that would move on. Needless to be told, my sons. When the seven roses start to wither away, I'll be standing there, watching with pride what my Chicago offsprings are up to. I need you to know. I wasn't born the person that I am now. As questionable as how I was born, every little and every huge step you take, regardless, will just so happen that, will bring the fire under the gun. And when it all begins, in one moment, as all this happens, you will know in your heart why I was your daddy.

Regardless of all happens from this point on, my sons, I want you to know that I do have this feeling that I'll die before my time (whatever that means, e.g. if you die, that is your time), but I'll give you all I have within before then, if that indeed happens. You will be more a part of me than I ever was. If you take it all from me, you will know that you won't need to shed a tear when I go. Just look up to the skies somewhere... A G*d will always take care of you two. You will never be alone.

Go to an empty room and seek the silence: That will be H*m. Just listen, and, at least, in your heart, you'll never fail in his eyes. That is usually more than good enough. Listen to me now. My crown is burning again.

A Chicago Memory

2006-10-09T18:23:00.000-07:00

"…

and things will start going terribly wrong.
and i'm not a prophet, but i can tell you what will go wrong.

the endless night will come to an end first,
and the morning smiles will fade away
and the silence will be there in the room with us
-as the unwanted guest-
and the weary old skirmishes in the bedroom and the kitchen

and no more confessions while sipping wine
and no more night walks under neon lights
and then -of course- this will translate into our bed
lovemaking will become routine at first
and before we know it, it will be sheer fucking
-and maybe not even that-

but what did you expect?
that's how it all started to begin with
when you took me into your bed
when we were still strangers
joking about "how all dates are about getting laid"
and "love comes simple and strong"
not knowing that's where we were heading

but...
i promise we'll be over this before we know it.
i promise.
-as i said-

i'm not a prophet, but i can tell you what will go wrong.

i sure have been here before.
and it sure doesn't feel like home…
..."

Chicago, 2002

p l a u s i b l e deniability

2006-09-28T19:09:00.000-07:00

"i think i heard her wrong..."

once more the drinking and the drunkness
once more the beauty and the beast
once more the beginning is the end is the beginning

it was late in the evening / and everyone was gone
my best friend was gone and his roommate and his to-be wife
it was a few days after the "big one"
and i was at a loss / strange that i can even write about it
i was rendered a father without a son, and the two sons were now without a father
and i was sending e-mails across the ocean

back and forth
back and forth
back and forth

"till the clock stopped ticking the lonely game and on a lonely evening sitting by the water, when she came along. drinking with people that i hardly knew, i'd realize that i don't even belong!"

after the wild youth, it hits you so hard
to be thirty and to realize
to recognize
how your passion that you were once so proud of is gone
and how you became one of those people
satisfied with the material life / short and boring sex
nice cars and dull music and sunday breakfasts outside
yes, indeed you had become one of them /
and estranged yourself from yourself.

-and ninety sunsets after-

it was again late in the evening / and everyone was gone
my best friend was gone and his roommate and his wife
and my other best friend was married now.
it was a day after the "big thirty" this time
i was in deep thoughts / masked by my cheesy smile
and my being nice

and my words and thoughts, my fears and insecurities
she and i had been doing this dance for sometime now
me in my own head, and she somewhere in me, too

back and forth
back and forth
back and forth

till the last of us learns to smile when there's just nothing left to say
till one of us learns that this is merely in my head
and in a new domain we can know the shape/conformation of our love

i know i heard you wrong
i'm sure, it was just all wrong.
but i know, there's a love that G*d puts in all our hearts.

Part One

2006-09-24T18:47:00.000-07:00

(...)

and it scared him
they were into "this" for two weeks now
the man and his angel
riding a dark shaky sea in their little boat for two
going for the thrill and the unknown
without sound they touched
and with a bond that no one would really grasp,
they grabbed each other

and the man stood up for his angel
and the angel spread her wings over the man
and their lives were touched
without a touch

and no more looking for another thrill fuck
he gave himself to her in a way
she couldn't understand
a n g e l i c
became everything she touched
and the way she barged inside him
and he knew in there that now he would be suffering for her without much thought/care
but had the angel come to love or to bury him
that he didn't know
that he wouldn't know for a while
if ever at all.

(...)

To a real special "friend"

2006-09-21T20:11:00.000-07:00

a secret is not something you can keep inside.
it wants to pour out.

when we were kids
when we were five maybe
our mothers used to make us cookies
and give us tomatoes and peppers sometimes
to eat as snacks
my mom would make pizza sometimes
so when you saw her at the window
you'd say always - tell her to make it with extra mushrooms next time
and your mom
made the meanest lemonade

and when we started grade school
you were there across heading down the street
i was heading up
and you had this bright red hat

i remember that.

then your mother died at sixteen
and i was the shoulder you cried on
and as the rain slowly lingered in the clouds not decided to fall yet
you were crying like hell
and i had nothing to say really to you
my mom was next door
and no one mentioned the lemonade again
we'd be fine with the pizza though

my mom told you you were her son now.
and she'd be a mother to you.
you cried on her arms for another hour after that.

and I started college
and you decided you didn't need the education anymore
and became a ladies' man
you introduced me to all your girlfriends
and every time - without exception
you asked me: "she's great, isn't she just the sweetest ever?"
and I always said "yes" - never saw you as a threat back then

half of my life in college, i was late to school
not too late ever / but always a minute or two
because I gave you rides to your work where you were underpaid
when you wanted to get engaged -impulsively- at 23
when your father said he'd disown you
my family was the one you ran to
and this was possibly my last fond memory of you.

but now, so many years after all that was shared,
given what you did with my woman and
the thought that we both know how she tastes down there,
we can never be friends again, you know.

Part Two

2006-09-18T13:22:00.001-07:00

"but had she come to love or to bury him
that he didn't know
that he wouldn't know for a while"

it was true -
he wouldn't know for a while
what this was to be for him
driving fast on the highways of the midwest
and his worries traveling the globe fast
he needed this to be c o m p l e t e

and the completeness would come as desired
and her smile would only perfect the end
as there were no trophies in this one to take home
or intimate stories that the high thread count bed sheets only would know

he had been in other places before - similar but not quite the same
where no kisses were spent as the love came undone
and her memories, oh, her memories
had left him for writing for years night after night
but that was different, as in
after three years and a thousand pages and a million times he thought of her
-all that time-
one last mercy fuck
and they were done.

And this morning.

2006-09-17T16:34:00.000-07:00

and this morning i woke up to another day
we woke up to another
on different sides of different beds in different towns
but this, also, was nothing new: only what we always did

and the touched hearts would always be touched
and time that had been shared would always stay
l i n g e r
as one word said to another, out of space
as an ex-lover coming to your head in someone else's bed