i had a good thing going
but now it's gone
i guess the best things
don't last too long
Monday, December 21, 2009
Thursday, December 17, 2009
One Year
The security camera caught it all,
grainy video feed and dirty images.
She screamed for help, you could see
the air moving rapidly away.
He stood motionless, in the background
caught forever in a digital wasteland.
They moved in, monsters of the night
no remorse or moral equivalent.
A gleam appeared and disappeared
the rapid succession of images
caught in 240 frames a minute.
Life looks less lifelike
in still images.
She screamed, the foggy air
capturing her voice
and secreting it away.
He froze, frozen in time
as they inched closer.
Just after closing time
minds go numb and heroes' voices
quietly go dumb.
In between the frames,
the action wasn't caught,
sadness and remorse
living a lifespan shorter than
that of a mayfly.
Some heroes never arise,
and some are struck down before their time.
Gods and monsters visible
in the milky moonlight,
indistinguishable and inseparable.
She screamed, but no one
came to the rescue.
grainy video feed and dirty images.
She screamed for help, you could see
the air moving rapidly away.
He stood motionless, in the background
caught forever in a digital wasteland.
They moved in, monsters of the night
no remorse or moral equivalent.
A gleam appeared and disappeared
the rapid succession of images
caught in 240 frames a minute.
Life looks less lifelike
in still images.
She screamed, the foggy air
capturing her voice
and secreting it away.
He froze, frozen in time
as they inched closer.
Just after closing time
minds go numb and heroes' voices
quietly go dumb.
In between the frames,
the action wasn't caught,
sadness and remorse
living a lifespan shorter than
that of a mayfly.
Some heroes never arise,
and some are struck down before their time.
Gods and monsters visible
in the milky moonlight,
indistinguishable and inseparable.
She screamed, but no one
came to the rescue.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
The Literary Whore vs The Literal Whore. But Not Literally.
The pounding rain stopped
the quiet noise subsided -
just their silent voices left
to fill the void.
She kissed him
just on the cheek
always on the cheek,
painfully close
a dagger just missing its mark.
He acted like he didn't care,
as he had a million times before
taking her hand in his
and saying goodbye.
At the door, silhouetted,
the moonlight behind her,
she paused, back to his front
and whispered softly
her sad eyes beaming -
She was in love, she said,
she was in love,
words so heavy
ringing in his head
Her glowing eyes,
her watery look
passed him, falling
at the closed bedroom door
she was in love,
she said.
A sinking feeling
a numbness in the
entirety
She was in love,
she said.
A cough from behind
the closed door
she smiled
She was in love,
she said
He choked back the
words he knew
he would never say
She was in love,
she said
an I love you
instead silence
I love you
instead silence
I want you to be happy
instead silence
I don't want to have
instead silence
to see it
instead silence
She was in love,
she said
The rain started again,
a slow drum beat
she turned,
so full of grace
a hail mary and
a thousand lashes
He watched her go
reached for her
slender hand
stopping her
holding her
instead silence
kissed her on
the softest cheek
he'd ever dreamed
instead silence
A polite goodbye
she was
relishing the feeling
instead silence
in love
her hair brushing his face
instead silence
the darkness filled the doorway
she said.
the quiet noise subsided -
just their silent voices left
to fill the void.
She kissed him
just on the cheek
always on the cheek,
painfully close
a dagger just missing its mark.
He acted like he didn't care,
as he had a million times before
taking her hand in his
and saying goodbye.
At the door, silhouetted,
the moonlight behind her,
she paused, back to his front
and whispered softly
her sad eyes beaming -
She was in love, she said,
she was in love,
words so heavy
ringing in his head
Her glowing eyes,
her watery look
passed him, falling
at the closed bedroom door
she was in love,
she said.
A sinking feeling
a numbness in the
entirety
She was in love,
she said.
A cough from behind
the closed door
she smiled
She was in love,
she said
He choked back the
words he knew
he would never say
She was in love,
she said
an I love you
instead silence
I love you
instead silence
I want you to be happy
instead silence
I don't want to have
instead silence
to see it
instead silence
She was in love,
she said
The rain started again,
a slow drum beat
she turned,
so full of grace
a hail mary and
a thousand lashes
He watched her go
reached for her
slender hand
stopping her
holding her
instead silence
kissed her on
the softest cheek
he'd ever dreamed
instead silence
A polite goodbye
she was
relishing the feeling
instead silence
in love
her hair brushing his face
instead silence
the darkness filled the doorway
she said.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Gamine
She used to be a dancer
tender vicious fleeting
just starting to fly away.
So tired of her gilded cage
she rebelled, she yelled, she
quietly walked away.
tender vicious fleeting
just starting to fly away.
So tired of her gilded cage
she rebelled, she yelled, she
quietly walked away.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
sing a song for me, somewhere down the line, if you would be so kind
Though the day is done
and the window gone
I still feel the dove
I still feel the
I still feel the
Gone, gone, gone
The river of peace
A slow breeze blowing
Over the grave
Over over over over
over me
I tried my best
to be the best
to be the best
Me I could be
But that slow breeze
Kept blowing over me
Over over over over
Over me
When you came lookin
I stood still - as still as I could be
Stood like an old willow tree
my branches waving
in an ungentle breeze
Now I may change my name
and I may change my home
but I hope you know
My will is not my own
My will is not my
My will is not my...
and the window gone
I still feel the dove
I still feel the
I still feel the
Gone, gone, gone
The river of peace
A slow breeze blowing
Over the grave
Over over over over
over me
I tried my best
to be the best
to be the best
Me I could be
But that slow breeze
Kept blowing over me
Over over over over
Over me
When you came lookin
I stood still - as still as I could be
Stood like an old willow tree
my branches waving
in an ungentle breeze
Now I may change my name
and I may change my home
but I hope you know
My will is not my own
My will is not my
My will is not my...
Friday, January 02, 2009
I feel all the emotions of the world coursing through my veins, beautiful and tragic, sacred and profane.
http://www.wefeelfine.org/wefeelfine_pc.html
http://www.wefeelfine.org/wefeelfine_pc.html
they called her mona lisa, she was staring at the snow.
white, beautiful, transient and cold.
some mysteries are better left on the shelf.
the searching means more than the finding.
so she remained mysterious,
and left behind glass.
something beautiful to look at
and wonder what she was looking at
while we were looking at her.
white, beautiful, transient and cold.
some mysteries are better left on the shelf.
the searching means more than the finding.
so she remained mysterious,
and left behind glass.
something beautiful to look at
and wonder what she was looking at
while we were looking at her.
Monday, December 08, 2008
somethingoldsomethingnewsomethingborrowedsomethingblue
I started a new blog. Yep - that makes many too many. But it exists. And there will be things in it. I plan on putting nothing but original things there - drawings, paintings (eventually), sophomoric writings (definitely), and maybe some photography. Linkage to the right.
And, in reference to the title - no, I am not getting married. It just sounded interesting. To quote (a second-rate song-writer from the 80's named) Morrissey, "I will live my life as I will undoubtedly die..... Alone."
And it sort of fit - this is something old, the new thing is, well... something new. This blog has many things borrowed, and I am sort of blue.
kik.
-C.
And, in reference to the title - no, I am not getting married. It just sounded interesting. To quote (a second-rate song-writer from the 80's named) Morrissey, "I will live my life as I will undoubtedly die..... Alone."
And it sort of fit - this is something old, the new thing is, well... something new. This blog has many things borrowed, and I am sort of blue.
kik.
-C.
Sunday, December 07, 2008
i woke up with this song in my head this morning.
She leaned against the brick facade, the black and green awning sheltering her from the weather. Her blood-red dress glowed like fire against the fading gray building, her auburn hair glowing in the fading lamp-light. She looked away, her eyes growing wet, not wanting hers to meet his, as he slowly made his way up to her.
He buried his hands deep in his pockets, walking with his head down, avoiding the puddles lining the street. His hair fell over his face, the cold rain blanketed his eyes, turning the night lights into diamonds.
The rain streamed down his cheeks; she couldn't tell if he had been crying, but assumed he had.
"Hey," she said, her voice cracking almost imperceptibly. He didn't respond, just stopped walking in front of her, head still down.
"Thanks for coming... I know you..." she just let the words trail off, not really sure what to say.
His coat flapped in the light breeze - she always hated that jacket on him, thought it made him look like a kid playing dress-up.
She started to speak, caught herself, and started again - "I'm - I'm so sorry... I didn't me-"
"I-" he cut her off, "I don't care."
Tears began to well in her eyes, and her lip trembled.
"I never meant for it to come to this," she said, barely more than a whisper, her words fading in and out with the breeze and rain.
"I'm glad," he said, looking up - his eyes finally meeting hers, each pair with an equal measure of sadness and longing. "I'm glad you don't love me."
He paused, looking away from her, seeing the blinking lights of the city, dancing and fading in and out of view in the heavy rain.
"After seeing what you like - what you run to - I think it says good things about me that I'm not in that group."
They stood in silence, the dark air clinging to them, enveloping them and driving them apart. Her head fell, her hair beautifully draping over her face, hiding her tears.
He had to force himself not to hold her, not to admit that he loved her, and always would.
The rain splashed around them, creating a sad melody in the lonely cityscape. Somewhere a siren blared to life and died away.
He took her hand gently, holding it in his, feeling the softness of her fingers, that touch, once comforting, now bitter and painful. He let her hand fall back to her side, started to speak, let the words die on his tongue before reviving them.
"You're the worst thing to ever happen to me," he said, his voice cold and firm, his eyes studying her body.
"I want us to stay friends..." she weakly replied.
"We were never friends."
"I-"
"You're a shallow, self-centered whore. You judge everyone else, pretending that you're pure. You tell everyone else what to do, as if you had any idea - any right."
"Why are you saying this? You don't -"
"I never really loved you."
The air hung dead between them. In the silence his words echoed, repeating themselves in their heads.
"You don't mean that..."
Tears were streaming down her face now, catching the blinking red glow from the traffic light at the corner, matching her tears to her dress to the blood now beating too rapidly through his heart and head.
"You mean nothing to me, absolutely nothing," he said, his voice calm even has his hand trembled in his pocket.
The rain hammered on the awning above them. The runoff came down in a solid sheet, a wall of water separating them from the world. In the water's reflection they were ghosts, shimmering and not really there.
"I'm glad you don't love me," he whispered. "I'd hate-
"I do, I -"
"-to be the type of-"
"-never meant to -"
"-person a whore-"
"hurt you, I love -"
"-like you would want-"
"-you..." She let her voice trail off, let it disappear into the cacophony of the rain, his cold voice, and the traffic rising up from the city.
"-to be with. I hate you, Savannah, and I never want to see you again."
He turned his back to her, not wanting to see a reaction, took a deep breath, and walked into the rain-soaked night. He let the rain pour over him, and the night shield him, so she could not see the shaking of his chest, and the tears now flowing freely from his brown eyes.
He walked amongst the shadows, the sky opening up its wet embrace, knowing he did not walk alone, but not wanting to heed that voice yet. There would be time for that later, he though, but for now - for now I want to feel this longing, and let it carry me away.
He buried his hands deep in his pockets, walking with his head down, avoiding the puddles lining the street. His hair fell over his face, the cold rain blanketed his eyes, turning the night lights into diamonds.
The rain streamed down his cheeks; she couldn't tell if he had been crying, but assumed he had.
"Hey," she said, her voice cracking almost imperceptibly. He didn't respond, just stopped walking in front of her, head still down.
"Thanks for coming... I know you..." she just let the words trail off, not really sure what to say.
His coat flapped in the light breeze - she always hated that jacket on him, thought it made him look like a kid playing dress-up.
She started to speak, caught herself, and started again - "I'm - I'm so sorry... I didn't me-"
"I-" he cut her off, "I don't care."
Tears began to well in her eyes, and her lip trembled.
"I never meant for it to come to this," she said, barely more than a whisper, her words fading in and out with the breeze and rain.
"I'm glad," he said, looking up - his eyes finally meeting hers, each pair with an equal measure of sadness and longing. "I'm glad you don't love me."
He paused, looking away from her, seeing the blinking lights of the city, dancing and fading in and out of view in the heavy rain.
"After seeing what you like - what you run to - I think it says good things about me that I'm not in that group."
They stood in silence, the dark air clinging to them, enveloping them and driving them apart. Her head fell, her hair beautifully draping over her face, hiding her tears.
He had to force himself not to hold her, not to admit that he loved her, and always would.
The rain splashed around them, creating a sad melody in the lonely cityscape. Somewhere a siren blared to life and died away.
He took her hand gently, holding it in his, feeling the softness of her fingers, that touch, once comforting, now bitter and painful. He let her hand fall back to her side, started to speak, let the words die on his tongue before reviving them.
"You're the worst thing to ever happen to me," he said, his voice cold and firm, his eyes studying her body.
"I want us to stay friends..." she weakly replied.
"We were never friends."
"I-"
"You're a shallow, self-centered whore. You judge everyone else, pretending that you're pure. You tell everyone else what to do, as if you had any idea - any right."
"Why are you saying this? You don't -"
"I never really loved you."
The air hung dead between them. In the silence his words echoed, repeating themselves in their heads.
"You don't mean that..."
Tears were streaming down her face now, catching the blinking red glow from the traffic light at the corner, matching her tears to her dress to the blood now beating too rapidly through his heart and head.
"You mean nothing to me, absolutely nothing," he said, his voice calm even has his hand trembled in his pocket.
The rain hammered on the awning above them. The runoff came down in a solid sheet, a wall of water separating them from the world. In the water's reflection they were ghosts, shimmering and not really there.
"I'm glad you don't love me," he whispered. "I'd hate-
"I do, I -"
"-to be the type of-"
"-never meant to -"
"-person a whore-"
"hurt you, I love -"
"-like you would want-"
"-you..." She let her voice trail off, let it disappear into the cacophony of the rain, his cold voice, and the traffic rising up from the city.
"-to be with. I hate you, Savannah, and I never want to see you again."
He turned his back to her, not wanting to see a reaction, took a deep breath, and walked into the rain-soaked night. He let the rain pour over him, and the night shield him, so she could not see the shaking of his chest, and the tears now flowing freely from his brown eyes.
He walked amongst the shadows, the sky opening up its wet embrace, knowing he did not walk alone, but not wanting to heed that voice yet. There would be time for that later, he though, but for now - for now I want to feel this longing, and let it carry me away.
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