Poetry is not a luxury, it's how I'll break this home

a burning black witch candle
from halloween.
I play our sad music
loud.
we are in the dark cutting out
paper hearts.
be careful not to slip
be careful not to cut me deep.
go on and say something you don't really
mean
or you do mean
or you are mean for saying it.
love.

listen to me
ramble in the darkness about
my secret love affairs
about a heart that stopped beating.
about being broken.
I'll tell you about what it took for me
to pull myself back together.
how hard it was
how long it takes
how fun and necessary
and how much it taught me.

barely breathing
i focus my eyes on the moon
on snow
on blood
blood on the snow
those are just lyrics,
things i write for you and things i felt for you.
I pull the blanket up over our chests.
it's cold tonight.
have you forgotten me yet? have you ever gotten over it?
I call to you in my mind as if you can hear me
and maybe you do. Sometimes i think you do.
like now.
like always.

when i hear your name.
I buzz like power-lines.

i use my mouth. I use it all over your skin. I use it up and down and i taste honey and stars. I want to know your body and how can i know it if i don’t lick you head to toe?
she says "stop. you' re gonna eat me" and i say "but baby, you taste so good."

when i was a kid i put things in my mouth. I tasted paste and the barrette from Becky's hair. It fell on the floor and she didn’t notice me pick it up. After school i took it from my pocket and put it to my nose and it smelled so good. Strawberries. It tasted like dirt - mixed with strawberries.

lies to prevent panic

there have been delays due to snow. the static i hear in my head not the white cold dust that falls from the sky. I once saw her catch one on her tongue. a snow flake as unique and special as you. she closed her eyes as it melted in the warmth of her mouth. snow mixed with ash from population growth and nearby drug factories. I asked if she thought it might help with her chronic cough. she reached for my hand.
only this. she said pulling my hand towards her heart.
I felt it beating against her chest.
we have a pulse!! i screamed with joy.
she's alive...she's alive. I began to sing frosty the
snow man.
please don't. please don't she said your making me laugh and youre out of tune.
Happy Birthday!!! she said. More laughing....i get the joke.

we played in snow to celebrate her arrival to this world. my snow-girl. a magic ribbon tied to her hair.
Now don't melt. don't melt. don't melt.....
we danced in the snow. not the static in my head kind but the kind that falls soft and pretty like in movies. It's the only kind I know and that's no lie. I've never seen snow. I tell her.
she says she is surprised.
by what?, I ask.
that you didn't lie.
i said i never promised to tell you the truth, only that I'd never share our secrets and I never have and never will.

the snow never seen nor ever felt or ever will or maybe?, if you showed me.
would you show me?
would you show me if i told you i had more teach you. even if i don't, even if i couldn't. I'd say i do and could just to see you one time laughing in the snow.
purple rain, she says. you got that one time laughing line from purple rain.

when it's cold and it rains is that how snow is made? I asked. really. tell me.
do snow girls bleed or only melt?
she didn't say. she wouldn't say. she wouldn't show me. maybe she doesn't know.

An Orchestrated Rise to Fall

The trust me fund:
She's getting married next weekend, It's what they would call all-of-a-sudden. The bride, she's only 18 and it's her first. first husband, first wedding, first cake, first ring, first everything.

" ... and Yes, she's pregnant", that's what I hear her mother telling people over the phone. Her mother is the secretary for my company and that's how i know all these things. She had two weeks to pull it all together. I'm told it's supposed to look and feel like a big deal wedding since the father of the child and husband to-be has a 2 million dollar trust fund waiting when he turns 35. Impress his family sort of thing.

Wait. He's almost 30, she's 18. You're thinking this isn't going to work out. You're thinking child-bride and who is holding the shot-gun. And I think you know.
The old me would say one word to him: Run.
I'm trying to be more positive these days. plus, you should know I'm rooting for the kid and her unborn. Starving artist boys with trust funds, I guess they get what they deserve.



One night to speed up truth:
I'm invited to the wedding extravaganza and I can't say I've ever turned down an offer to attend a wedding. (nor to be wed) I'm such a foolish romantic at heart. Will there be wine? food, music, cake? Yes, yes, yes and yes. Then yes.
Of the marriages I've attended it's about 50- 50 the couples have remained married.
true fact.
I must also mention that this whole thing is taking place on Sunday. Opening day of football season Sunday. Priorites. How dare them, I know. So, I'll have to Tivo/Dvr the game.
You're thinking Christian, miss his Dallas Cowboys game live!!!? okay maybe your not thinking that. but I am.
Oh, but that bitter taste they left in my mouth. They shouldn't have broken my heart like they did last year in the playoffs. They're like that slice of cake that falls on the floor, it still looks all good and sugary but, it fell on the floor. You think it might be okay. You pick it up, wipe it off, check to see if any ones looking and take a big bite. It could be the most delicious cake you've ever had. That something you've been waiting for all your life. Or it could have dirt on it and you wish you could just spit out. instead you know you'll just choke on it. So, The safe bet is not to get all worked up. Save yourself the broken heart and leave the cake on the floor for someone else to take a chance on. In other words.... record it - Then see how it all turns out later.


I wonder when it's winter am I going to wish for it to be summer again?

credits:

ohgirl

tell me when the snow falls

dear snow,

why aren't you falling for me yet? are the skies to bright and the moon to low?
rhyming is a disaster better left to the obtuse observer. someone who chooses mother goose over let's say....bukowski? shit. I have to be honest and don't tell this to mc who-ever flav or over dramatic poetry-slam guy but, I dislike so-called poetry. non-bukowski poetry.

did i ever tell you i found buk through reading early rollins, through reading comic books, through reading backs of cereal boxes?. that's how i discovered fante too. salinger was because of a teacher at school.
big authors, who came from big schools, never did impress me. girls with big tits on myspace, girls who scheme. it's to generic. it's to predictable. mathematics impresses me but, I dislike most forms of prose. this is probably why i am not very good at either.

do you wonder why no capitals in my letter. well, the shift key seems to be faulty. OH THERE it goes AND...... back again. isn't that something. question: are you still wearing your socks up to your knees.

and about what we were talking about earlier. don't feel bad.
big change almost never happens. people simply feel lost. they become messes and tend
to remain messes.
I am not saying that is us, but if the shoe fits.
god do I love shoes. she used to say i was like a girl. collecting converse sneakers and vans and slip-ons with tattoo print.

did you ever finish watching the freaks and geeks dvd i lent you?. how bout the wong kar wai collection. ever read any of the books i recommended?. ever pay attention to anything i ever said or did. word for word, heart to heart.
have you been. if you were, you'd see i've been using question marks and those are made using the shift key ??????. so there.

whatever i left over there, just keep. the books and records, the kings of leon t-shirt. consider it a gift. consider everything we learned a gift. from our pretend game, the game called..life. called love, called hauntingly beautiful.

snow, will you ever come
will this ever be done?
was it ever any fun?
to pre-
tend
to lion
den
just get out your pen
and write it

again

I really do love you. goodbye.