Monday, March 28, 2011
Bruises to prove it
what didn't fade with time
faded from distance
small
features in the rear-view
i looked at your house
waving and smiling
your door already closed
funny this blood connection
our chemical crush, our holy ghosts,
atoms, particles, cells, bones
blood
prayer
funny how you say you love him
when you don't
im sorry about
our fury
of mistakes
i clench my teeth at night
ball my fingers into fists
i read ancient scriptures
searching for the answers
in fables and parables, in allegories
the language of women and children
it's the missing you
part - i hadn't counted on
the variable - the ghost
i figured in for additions and subtractions
the lovers and passing of the moon
the placement of diamond rings
time + distance + blood type
the subset of X
add it up
nothing between us
has ever
made
sense
Monday, March 7, 2011
i follow rivers
(I found this Canon AE-1 camera, telephoto lenses, filters and other accessories for 14 bucks at the thrift-store. Old school 35mm and works perfectly. I won't lie, I'm a huge fan of digital cameras and photo editing the result. I might even like the photo-editing part best of all. I used FX Photo Studio app on my I-pad to process the photo above. That said , I respect the art, patience and knowledge of those using the manual settings of a film camera and getting cool effects naturally. I'm looking forward to learning this camera a little bit, take a few rolls of film, let the joy and nostalgia course my veins.)
gold hearts
and breezes
this isn’t what i
expected
fist fights
funerals
big dogs
little cats
big lies
big dicks
my heart on a sleeve
hopeless romantics
whores
love
and work
all day
everyday
all day
sunday
on the couch
t.v.- radio.
book
computer
porn
popcorn
gold hearts and the price of oil
the price of a diamond ring
just know
you are not
alone
What you can and can’t do. Go. I had love and fear holding me back. A good job, mad love, my favorite team. There was luck in this town and superstition. Maybe it left when you did. The job, the money and the good times Charlie. But there are good songs left to share and wine and smokes and I’ve stayed up half the night writing - my fingers are numb. I could probably work harder and make a few bucks, relieve half my so called troubles. Love wont keep me warm at night. All this chopping wood and carrying water. All this health amongst the sick and weary. nothing to keep me from running. The moon will glow and the sun will rise and fall. Wherever you are, wherever you go it’s the same. I know this. Streets with different names, shadows on higher walls, whispers from ghosts. What you can and can’t do. let the dust settle. Then go.
gold hearts
and breezes
this isn’t what i
expected
fist fights
funerals
big dogs
little cats
big lies
big dicks
my heart on a sleeve
hopeless romantics
whores
love
and work
all day
everyday
all day
sunday
on the couch
t.v.- radio.
book
computer
porn
popcorn
gold hearts and the price of oil
the price of a diamond ring
just know
you are not
alone
What you can and can’t do. Go. I had love and fear holding me back. A good job, mad love, my favorite team. There was luck in this town and superstition. Maybe it left when you did. The job, the money and the good times Charlie. But there are good songs left to share and wine and smokes and I’ve stayed up half the night writing - my fingers are numb. I could probably work harder and make a few bucks, relieve half my so called troubles. Love wont keep me warm at night. All this chopping wood and carrying water. All this health amongst the sick and weary. nothing to keep me from running. The moon will glow and the sun will rise and fall. Wherever you are, wherever you go it’s the same. I know this. Streets with different names, shadows on higher walls, whispers from ghosts. What you can and can’t do. let the dust settle. Then go.
Labels:
Canon AE-1,
feathers,
FX Photo Studio,
photography,
prose
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Promise not to forget me
My best-friend almost killed me. He had his fathers shot-gun but pulled it away at the last hair-trigger moment. "It's not loaded " he said but just to be sure he moved the barrel from my chest, pointed past my shoulder and proceeded to blow a pancake sized hole through his parents front door. Yeah, good thing it wasn't loaded. My ears rang for two weeks. I couldn't hear myself thanking the fucking stars but I was happy to be alive. I opened the front door with the smoking hole in it and crossed the street to my house just as two patrol cars came screaming around the corner. I don't know what happened to my friend. He stopped going to school after that. I never saw him again. I'm pretty sure his father beat him to death. I saw him bury something in the backyard late one night. People said it was the family cat, but I'm not so sure. I promised god I wouldn't play with guns again. One of many promises Id make and break in my short time on earth.
I used to like wrapping things around my neck. At first it was just to see what it would feel like to run out of breath. Stupid things kids do in their rooms when they get bored. I discovered I quite liked it. Tighter tighter tighter until I was barely able to breathe then I'd let go and the air was back. There was a rush I can't describe to you. I used belts, jump ropes, clothesline, socks. Eventually I thought about rubbing my dick and doing this at the same time, a natural progression though I don't know why. I was to young to achieve any kind of orgasm at that time, no ejaculation, no release but it still felt good.
I got hung up once, by then I could cum and I did all the time several times a day and in as many different ways as I could think of. I remembered choking myself but I'd heard stories about kids found dead half naked so I counted myself lucky for making it through those dumb early years . Fifteen, stupid and bored and hard all the time. I took my finest black leather belt and cinched it around my neck. I was hard just thinking about it. It worked great the first time, to good, I sucked in air and shot cum so hard and so much it would take extra cleaning time to remove it from the ceiling, walls and floor. Fuck it was good. I should have quit but now i was hooked. I couldn't wait to get home from school. Radio up high, the marks on my neck. Fuck school, fuck everything. Then It happened i couldn't get the belt loose. I was thinking - please don't let it end like this. Running out of air and starting to panic. rock hard all the same. I was seeing stars through my tears. I promised I wouldn't do it again, please just one more....chance. The buckle broke and clanked on the floor. I came and finally breathed or the other way around. I was tired and crawled to my bed. Half hour later I woke up and jerked off again. But I kept my promise.
photos(flickr):
1. arbyreed - 2. emma louise
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
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