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Saturday, February 23rd, 2008
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3:53 am - Smoking tomorrow
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There is no stopping. There is only the razor-sharp air piercing the tepid water. The land doth swell, the wind doth scream. Magma pours from the earth with an indivisible purpose, above half-baked bomb shelters with a year's supply of baked beans. Sit and warm yourself by the embers of stained magazines before the great metal jaws slam shut. My watch stopped years ago, but there it rests strangling bone. Drink up the firewater and wait.
Shut the FUCK up.
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| Friday, December 7th, 2007
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4:13 am - The Day I Forgot
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Beetle perched on a leaf
Wind pushed his crackling carapace
"I am stronger than you"
But Beetle could not hear
Sparrow flitted down to him
"You cannot hope for it"
Beetle turned around to step twice
Branch groaned beneath them
"Where do you move to"
Beetle was blind
Slowly scuttling, Sparrow followed
Branch and Wind waved goodbye
The churning Earth retracted
So Beetle leaped onto the bramble
And Sparrow followed
Sun pointed at them
"There you are"
Light smothered Beetle
And Beetle died
Sparrow did not follow
He scratched the waiting Earth
And looked at Sun
"You are wrong"
And Sparrow flew on
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| Monday, November 5th, 2007
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12:50 am - Jammed
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I was suffocating with my hands clasped
Blood rushed everywhere
With a million voices screaming
"You're blind you fool!"
Electrics coursed through my brain
Until in a searing moment
I wrenched my jaws apart
And let out a great wail
"This is what they gave me!
They have left me here to live
So I will take their thunder
And find the truth in it!"
My heart wrenched in laughter
Not mine, but it burned like a sun
This is it! This is where I stand!
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| Saturday, October 20th, 2007
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3:50 am - Good Night
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Lie yourself down
Look up at the midnight pinpoints
The concrete underhead
Strains and shoves your skeleton
So just relax
Relax, relax
Now your eyes transfix
The job is well done
Moments ago
You were under twirled light bulbs
Sitting on stale cushions
Across from rotting candies
Watching you
For the time to strike
And she was there too
Returned from the grand ballroom
Finally back in your world
So you scratch and scratch
As the coarse threads
Choke and challenge your skin
Then the dance begins
And she moves about in rhythm
To thick blood pulsing in your ears
Enough for your eyes to spin
And your head to whirl.
You left.
You had forgotten
The sun had long since gone.
So you left.
And there's no going back.
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3:11 am - Guess who's back
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Me! And now, some words.
Sit
Child below the wall
Dust in its lungs
Water on face
Nails collecting skin
Brick is warm
Harshly friendly squares
Corners lust to be close
Together they are gone
Mortar has smoothed
What lies there silent
Child is disappear
Gusts crash to the wall
There will be no end
Spew
head of meat
flesh of bone
eye of air
mouth has shown
feet of fruit
chest of clay
arm of branch
breath betrays
leg of glass
groin of flies
back of ash
language lies
More to come. It's been fun.
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| Friday, July 13th, 2007
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12:45 pm - Bound
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A great iron chain rests on the disturbed dirt.
It twists and turns,
Following the movements of its head:
A dark metal ring wrapped
Around soft, stretched, pulsing flesh.
The soil is constantly stirred
By the struggling steps of the iron snake's host.
Their skin has been torn and treated by the elements
Long ago they paced in expectant anxiety,
But now they know better.
In futility, impatience is arbitrary.
For at the serpent's tail
Lies the city in a bottle.
There it will stay, embedded in earth,
And so will the host become prisoner,
Chained by life and death to the city and the serpent.
They will always peer in on the city,
And see the teeming life there,
But know they must remain outside,
Know that to enter is to cease.
Prostrated on the ground, body against bottle,
They can only hope for others outside the city.
Hope for life's validation.
Hope for existence, justified.
In the grasp of the iron serpent,
That is all there is.
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| Saturday, June 30th, 2007
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2:24 pm - Untitled for now. Long story.
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Burlesque
trees,
Romanesque
lightning,
interspersing
deep crevices
in dark granite
in scarlet skin.
Earth shudders,
covered in
archaic arachnids
but saved by
raking inferno
not touching
the azure waters.
There rests
the caveman's ship.
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| Sunday, June 17th, 2007
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1:38 am - Ode
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He awakens at midnight
To the shrill ringing on the nightstand.
Back from faraway ventures,
Her voice floats through the air,
On the beat of hummingbirds' wings.
To hear it he needs only truly listen
As the soft rhythm begins to fade.
Then she's gone again,
And he's left to collect himself
Into cargo pants and sandwich bags.
He picks up the pace, heartbeat quickening,
While he gathers it up, putting possessions in a pile.
Suddenly outside twin beacons cut through acrid air,
And in a surge of morbid anticipation he leaves it all,
Scrambling for the night's wild, waiting world.
He shivers at the sudden frost,
But already he can feel her approaching warmth.
Her face is lined in Eden's bounty
And only as he comes close does he see her bloom.
Along her glowing, swirling skin,
Soft shades and pigments fall one over another,
Or spiral down into pupils circled in color.
Then the grand finale, as he is overcome
But gently cradled by the light of her smile.
Up in the heavens,
Gods dance and play,
Tossing about the lives of men.
Yet tucked away in the corner,
The Lady of Chance swells and simmers in pride
In light of her recent handiwork:
The realization of separate potentials in their unforeseen unity.
The young man, still perhaps a boy,
Stands still, mind agape
At the beautifully paradoxical tender fierceness before him.
Then it begins,
A thin vein of an impatient touch,
Hands together, then arms, and finally
A full embrace brought close, long-awaited.
It is overwhelming, senses overloaded.
On the cool, crisp night,
A friendly warmth grows as one between two.
The greatest submariners cannot fathom such adversity
In the face of such a cold, unrelenting foe.
Yet despite all true logic, boy and girl push away
To stand but a few desperate moments from each other
It has been a long time,
And they have both changed in seasons.
They must take time to grow with the other,
Lest they lose them beneath the waves of time.
Slowly they start to speak, briefly to begin,
Until again their words flow freely.
They speak in flames, fueling hearts and minds,
Until their eyes shine like brilliant daggers,
Cutting to the core of creation.
On one frosty eve, a man and woman,
Yielding to youth, create compassion
In their beloved congregation.
In the absence of celestial bodies,
Two souls align beneath a glittering night sky,
And so the world turns.
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| Tuesday, May 15th, 2007
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12:03 am - The Hole
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That was the night I opened the wall.
My nails dragged along the fabric
And came together in clenched fury.
Hard white bones wrapped in snug, smooth skin
Sailed through space and collided
In a cacophony of dust, light, and sound
With the whitewashed facade in front of me.
Bones shook and skin bruised again and again
Until before me lay a testament
Of my painful, excruciating effort.
The hole was small, but I could see through
Just enough to know
There was something there.
But I didn't know what it was.
I fumbled for the light switch,
But the bulb was out.
So now I sit here,
Waiting for the sun.
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| Sunday, May 13th, 2007
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10:43 pm - Just some more song lyrics.
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a bad dream shook me in my sleep and I woke up sweating.
ran through the dark to the shower,
already forgetting.
tried to think good thoughts.
trying to find my way clear.
let the room fill with steam,
traced pictures on the mirror.
ghosts and clouds and nameless things.
squint your eyes and hope real hard,
maybe sprout wings.
I clawed my way to the living room window,
stood there in the cold.
the last bits of my dream like figures in the distance,
hard to hold.
I thought of old friends,
the ones who'd gone missing.
said all their names three times.
phantoms in the early dark,
canaries in the mines.
ghosts and clouds and nameless things.
squint your eyes and hope real hard,
maybe sprout wings.
current mood:  tired
current music: Maybe Sprout Wings - The Mountain Goats
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| Monday, May 7th, 2007
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9:00 pm - Hopeful
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There is a dead city,
And day after day it is battered by blasts
Of fire, stone, metal, poison and pain.
Finally there was nothing left but bricks.
These bricks were made of clay
Which was baked in the hearth of meticulates
And was gathered from beneath the feet of mountains
By those who never hoped to climb.
The bricks became bonded together
And were no longer mountain, clay, or brick.
Though now they have fallen into rubble
as small foothills to the Great March.
There they will sit for time after time,
Since they cannot count clocks,
Until one particle of dust drops low and catches.
Time after time and another particle,
Until they swell into mountainous pride.
Pride will make them fall,
Yet they will always return to their greatest.
A life-cycle without life leaves little room for anything,
But a little makes mountains.
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| Sunday, March 18th, 2007
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12:54 am - Femme
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In a small town somewhere
Something grows
In a little pocket of life and light.
She's standing on the wayside
As clouds of dust are thrown in the air,
Huge behemoths of earth and ash.
While faces fade forever into the horizons,
She looks down on her painted skin
For the memory held there.
She is still new to the world
And has seen so little,
But thanks to the weaving colors
There is an identity here.
She holds memory experienced by none,
So while others retreat into the sunset,
She longs for longing.
But she belongs to the world
And without her the difference is devastating.
Inside her grows another Earth,
Made of deep, dark, dreaming ink.
There is a story splashed on these walls,
In a language never spoken.
current music: Cobra Tattoo - The Mountain Goats
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| Thursday, February 22nd, 2007
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11:35 pm - Echo
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Down below the weeds
You can hear the Earth rumbling.
There is a life there
Of a million tiny eyes,
A million beating hearts.
There are feet scrambling on the surface,
Wings beating high overhead,
Small gasps of hot breath as time goes by
And the sun flies across the sky
Each time staying a little bit less.
But there will always be a rumbling,
The echo of the unseen.
And never will the dirt settle.
It is not permitted to be still
Because to do so would be to end
And an impossibility.
Every day again they run
Because to be still would be to end
Because they fear what is unknown.
Even the echo in the Earth.
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| Friday, February 16th, 2007
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5:37 pm - Down South
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Right now I'm in Charleston, South Carolina. My parents and I drove down yesterday, eventually getting to the hotel at about 3 am after a 13 hour drive. Originally we were supposed to fly down, but our flight was canceled because of the recent storm, and we wouldn't have been able to get another flight down until Sunday. Since we are coming back on Monday, that as not an option and we drove down instead. The hotel we're staying at is really nice. It's the house that John Rutledge, signer of the US Constitution, used to live in. All the architecture here is either from colonial and antebellum America, or is a recreation of them, so it's all really nice. The weather is slightly warmer, with highs in the high 50s, so that's definitely refreshing. It's been less than a day, but I'm enjoying myself so far. Now I'm going to go take a nap and then go to dinner at a restaurant run by one man who also makes the artwork on the walls, cooks the food, and sings showtunes to the customers. I'm pretty excited. We're flying back up to Jersey on Monday, be back around early afternoon, so I'll see all you then. Ta ta for now.
current mood:  complacent
current music: Guster
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| Thursday, February 15th, 2007
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2:10 am - Just some writing
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In the cool night air the youth of another year meet together and for once they are separate. Together they are a circle of brimstone and ice, even if only for now. Sitting on a starless dock beside a fake fountain they can speak in language but when they open their mouths they lose their memory. But no one is supposed to be here this night and when they leave two of them go down to the basement beneath the planks. Dashing through the whitewash there is an iron door. Behind the door a revolution is brewing of those who know how things work. They take the two lost ones in and take them up the spiral staircase to where they came from. But no one knows.
current mood: groggy
current music: Neutral Milk Hotel
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| Tuesday, January 23rd, 2007
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12:27 am - Commen App-rehension?
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I have about 7 months until I leave for college. For the first time since I left Bermuda I feel as though things might be going too fast. The problem I'm facing right now is what to do and how to act with the little time I have left. Part of me just wants to get through it as efficiently as possible and move on to college, but every time I step outside on a nice day and my eye catches a thing of beauty that voice pops into my head telling me to do as much as I can while I'm still around. I've always felt that change is good and nothing should stay the same for too long, but what if you might have unfinished business? I'm not even sure what I'm looking for. My greatest fear is that it may have been right in front of me in the past, and I pushed it away intentionally or unintentionally.
On some lighter notes, Studio 60 is still the best show on television. It's amazing how well you can connect with the characters and empathize with them. Also, daily exercising has been really paying off recently. I suppose there's some sort of silver lining. Even with all the doubt, I'm confident I still have a good deal of options left open to me. I hope.
current mood:  anxious
current music: Bottle Up And Explode! - Elliott Smith
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| Monday, January 1st, 2007
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8:18 pm - Resolve!
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So the year is over. Hoorah! I mean, it's 2007. I graduate this year. I didn't make any resolutions. I feel that you shouldn't need New Year's Eve to make a promise to yourself, although to many people it is helpful to have a set date like that.
For a long time I've been excited about going to college, and I still am. It struck me recently that it's very hard to tell just what college will be like before you actually dive in there, and one of the scariest feelings is to have all of your expectations thrown out the window in one sweeping blow. It's a bit intimidating, sure, but I am not going to let that stop me from getting in there and getting all I can out of the situation.
A few weeks ago in the Intro to Sociology class I'm taking, our teacher got on a bit of a rant about how there are so few majors left in college that don't pigeonhole you into one career. He believes that you should not be restricted by that threat when choosing what to study. He actually teaches history but majored in sociology at Rutgers, as well as a few other places. For a long time I've wanted to do something with psychology, and people keep telling me about "all the doors it leaves open for you". Then again, I'm really interested in philosophy, which is a much more restricted area to study, but I believe it may just yield much more personally satisfying results, at least for me. I guess I'll see when that conundrum presents itself.
I don't know what to expect out of this new year. I suppose... I want fulfillment in my actions. I want to say that I did all I needed to do, maybe even all I wanted to do as well. I really want to be able to really connect with some people. It's not like I don't connect with anybody, just not to the level or the extent that is desirable. You don't need to ask me about this. Really. It's just an observation. But I think that would be my one wish for at least the end of my senior year. It'd be pretty nice. I'll see what I can do to make that happen.
This could be very interesting or very, very dull. I'll push for the former. I'll pull some strings.
current music: Trouble With Dreams - Eels
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| Wednesday, December 13th, 2006
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9:31 pm - GodDAMN it.
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So I didn't get into Haverford. But it's actually a lot less of a drag than I thought it would be. All of the other schools I'm applying to are really great as well, and there's no use in worrying about what could've happened. With all this happening, with my iPod getting stolen and now this, I still can't help but not get pulled down. Maybe it's because I've been exercising more, but I just feel better about everything in general. We'll see how it goes.
current mood:  calm
current music: The Lost Room
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| Tuesday, December 12th, 2006
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11:13 pm - Musings?
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So let's see. My iPod was stolen out of the gym locker room. First rehearsal for the drama was a whole bunch of fun. There's a bunch of funny stuff in the show. I'm nervous as hell about Early Decision results coming out on Friday, hopefully. I have a pretty good chance of getting in, but still. I can't help but feel uneasy and insecure. I have so little work to do for school, yet I feel stressed and strained for other reasons, but it's almost like I know it's something I can handle. I just don't really know how just yet.
J.D. Salinger has never been one of my favorite authors. I read "Catcher in the Rye". It was alright. It's not a book I can really connect with on some great level that so many people praise it for. I grew really tired of the main character complaining about the "fake" people he meets along the way. Hell, I don't even remember how it ended. I'm pretty sure it was a little unimpressive. Maybe it's a social commentary or something, but it still doesn't sit too well with me, but that's just me.
I've said it before, but routine can get a little frustrating after a while. Not routine such as more specifically repeated acts of something you might only like enough to tolerate on a decent level. It kinda wears on you. Something needs to be fixed somewhere. I don't like being superficial, and I try to avoid it, but at some point a consistent diet of it really beats you down.
Fuck. That's it. Social expectations are truly the bastard offspring of what all these unsettling interactions have created. I'm kinda tired of all of that, so just try and hold back on all that please. Pseudo-community is the worst feeling in the world, and there's been a lot of that around lately. Damn it Ben! Goin' off and messing up the group dynamics. Bah.
I cannot find a better description for all of this than "intensely uncomfortable." It's to the point where I either want to completely abandon my superego, throw up, break down into tears, get it in a meaningless but revealing fist fight with a close friend, or both of the last two. Damn it.
PS - The Lost Room on the Sci Fi channel is really good and pretty creepy. So is the music video of REM's "Losing My Religion".
current mood: distressed
current music: Lost Cause - Beck
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| Sunday, November 12th, 2006
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11:02 pm - The Sound of German Hip-Hop
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I woke up to the sound of German hip-hop in my head
A great unholy clatter quickly filling me with dread
I wondered then if silence had forever disappeared
What, with everybody yelling the end was finally here
I scrambled for the television, desperate for its light
Hoping that my favorite stars could stop this endless night
I waited for instructions, I waited for a sign
I listened very carefully when told just what to buy
Lovers became bitter, mathematicians counting crumbs
Some were filled with angry lust, the rest felt mostly numb
The sun became the enemy, they’d hunger after dark
And kill time swapping partners at a club called Noah’s Arc
Those who spoke of doom impending, suffering and such
Had found the place in people’s heart that beauty had once touched
They filled the auditorium, the tickets far from cheap
Those that couldn’t get in started fighting in the street
The day came so we gathered in a field behind the mall
A noted scientist predicted there we’d see it all
The city council members came, they told us not to fear
The king and queen of homecoming both shed a poignant tear
Just like that it happened, the starling blinked its eye
The molecules collided and became part of the sky
All my life I’ve never known a moment quite so still
Like space that’s being emptied at the same time that it’s filled
I woke up to the sound of German hip-hop in the air
It sounded like a hum of insects nesting in my hair
I wasn’t so much tired but I felt that I should sleep
So I closed my eyes and mumbled something about a soul to keep
Yeah, don't have much to say now. Been really into this here band for the past two days or so. Pretty nice, I suppose. More to come. Much later.
current mood: groggy
current music: Clem Snide
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insidewalkinout's journal