Monday, January 31, 2011

to birthdays


vodka water



vodka water

trip to mens restroom to hold figurative hair



Saturday, January 29, 2011


inside out. inside out. decisions of your life are judged and given a verdict by your peers often without even being asked. even when you try not to let it effect you, it chips. even when you try not to let it effect you, it chips. chips at the things you care for, your beliefs, you. your brick exterior gets wind blow erosion from the flow of their words, and even though you don't want it, chips.

if you don't want opinions you shouldn't tell the story. if you don't want opinions you shouldn't tell the story. words i have eaten as the flow of letters and phrases fell from my unsealed lips. lips that betray me again and again. lips that need to learn there is a time and place. learn there is time and place. learn that skin is not brick and the small chips show as doubt wants to cloud my eyes, but i fight. i fight the lips that betray me because they are mine and when they are not betraying me they are kissing, and caring, and comforting, and saving me from myself.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

part: an exact divisor of a quantity

a partir, from my thoughts for just a moment while this conversation goes on
an on, and on, and on

a partir, from this place for just a second while my body calms and my leg stops bouncing
back and forth, back and forth, back and forth

to part, to part, to part

Monday, January 24, 2011

Work in Progress...

Channel 28 EmilyTV
               It had been another night of drinking and partying with her friends. It was late and she and Derek sat in his mid-sized studio apartment. They sat on his black leather sofa and talked. She wasn’t sure how everyone had ended up leaving. She reached for another cigarette before putting out the one already to the nub in her hand then eyed the small mound of powder still on the coffee table. Usually everyone stayed till it was gone. Derek kept twirling his drink in his hand making the ice dance in the honey colored glass and talking to her. She nodded and made appropriate interested sounds, but if Derek had played closer attention he would have seen that Emily was not really quite there. She seemed to be looking everywhere else but his face. If had taken the time to look in the mirror and notice his drawn clammy face he wouldn’t have been trying so hard to finally bag Emily.  
                Emily always thought Derek was cute when they started the night out. With his dirty blond hair that was always a little too long, it seemed to beg for her hand to run through it, but at the end of the night she was always grasping at the earlier perceptions of cute.  Was it his blue eyes? She would look but see that they were already too glassy to be the reason why. She moved her jaw from left to right left to right then inhaled deeply off her cigarette. The dryness in her mouth was getting problematic so she asked for water.
                “You don’t wanna drink?” Derek said shaking his.
                Emily simply shook her head, and inhaled again letting the smoke hit the back of her throat before inhaling. He walked to the kitchen still talking. In fact, he didn’t stop talking the entire time he was getting the water.
                “You know? I mean of course you know. But when Jeff is like that, it’s just too much, you know? I don’t know what happens, but after awhile. .. Did you want ice? Well I figure you did so I already added some, here you go,” he handed her the glass, “What were we talking about?” Emily opened her mouth as if to answer, but changed her mind as he cleared his throat and began talking again. “Wanna another hit?”
He held the straw up to her and she simply nodded. Before she leaned down she was careful to exhale slowly so she wouldn’t blow the white particles out of the thick line he had cut for her.  At the last minute she switched the straw to her left hand, the last time she’d done a line her right nostril ached. She snorted deeply and came up holding the side of her nose down , tilting her head back, then gave a little shake of her head brown hair falling into her face as she continued to sniff. When she looked back at Derek she jumped back slightly as she took in the fact that he was sitting next to her now.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Thought you’d seen me,” he rested the meaty thickness of his palm against her knee. “I’m glad you stayed, that you let the others leave. With everything that’s been going on I didn’t want you to think that, well, that I hadn’t noticed.” The clammy heat of his hand seemed to be branding her.
He stopped talking and reached toward the table and ran the index finger of his other hand along the surface before leaning back towards her.  She stared as he paused finger near her face then  he pushed his finger between her lips. She stared into his eyes and then began to suck. She couldn’t taste his finger but only felt the instant numbness. When she was done he replaced his finger with his mouth and began to kiss her. Emily closed her eyes and tried to imagine the Derek from earlier in the night, the Derek she had come to see, and it would have worked if both of their mouths weren’t so dry and noisy. They continued to kiss, Emily with her eyes shut, Derek with his hands on her thin body. Their clothes came off quickly with jerky movements not made from passion. When Emily was completely nude Derek spread her legs and pushed himself against her. She finally opened her eyes and looked up at him and asked, “Is everything?” she trailed off at the end.
“Yeah, yeah of course Em, it’s just you know all the blow, I’ll not at full capacity, but it’ll still be good.”
Their clammy bodies were pushed against each other on the grey circular couch. Her butt was beginning to bend into the crack of the cushion. She felt hot and sticky, and she could feel the half hard penis trying to push inside of her. She closed her eyes again. 

Monday, January 17, 2011

the signs they're everywhere...

gazing up into the inky black of night and the tiny pinholes of light that break through is one of my favorite things to do. simply lying back preferably against the soft cushion of green grass and staring, breathing, the only thing that i can hear is my own heartbeat in rhythm with the soft inhalation and exhalation of my breath. i gaze and draw imaginary lines between them creating my own constellations, that i name simple names such as tree, and heart, and starfish. tomorrow i won't remember where they are and i'll have to start all over again, but for today tree, heart, and starfish are mine. 

there is more to these pinholes of light. they are too cosmic and mysterious for them to simply just be. 

there is something about this moment i love so much. this moment that i allow my mind to wonder with thoughts that change as quickly as my gaze shifts from star to star. and as i look at them and try to decipher the message i believe they are trying to give me i see the signs. the signs that my mind tries to link together for some kind of answer. each one is there to give me some hint of direction. a falling star catches my breath and i make a wish. a wish that i hope will come true. 

as i lay there i realize that i am a mirror for one of these stars. in the billions of stars that fill the sky i am one of many many many people perhaps doing the same thing i am doing at the moment. a star for every person doesn't seem so far fetched of an idea. stars die as well...don't they? 

so, as i lay back with the smell of green earth filling my nose i try to be. simply be for a moment even as i try to decipher what the world  is whispering to me at the moment. and between the quiet phrases of, "don't go, stay. walk away. be open to it. you can do it. be patient. love him. stop putting up a wall. write, then write more. she knows you miss her." i calm myself. and the world stops to whisper so many answers to me at once. and i breathe and i breathe and i find my mirror even with my eyes closed and i get my answer. 

Saturday, January 15, 2011

Morning Light

I woke this morning

Light caressing me

The sun had strewn its gold across with infinite clarity.

Slowly, gliding over me, touching me so lightly.

Hands full of gentle heat holding me possessively.

Tangled sheets and naked skin take on a golden flush.

Slowly coming alive awakening in the heats increasing touch.

Tender heat increasing all but left consuming,

Radiating around me intense warmth completely filling.

Sunday, January 2, 2011

Just a Moment

      The hallway was dimly lit from the lights placed outside each apartment door. I glanced to the right at the cement staircase and its black ornate handrail. I had been climbing these stairs on fairly regular basis recently. I was standing outside the wooden doorway with my back again the cold bricks waiting for him to lock the door. It had been a few months since this thing had started. I called it a thing still because I wasn't sure exactly what it was, and to call it anything else seemed to make it too real. 
      I stared at the silhouetted curve of his neck and wanted to reach out, but I was too afraid. I couldn't make his face out as he fumbled with the keys and numerous locks, but I had already learned the set of his mouth and knew what expression he was making. I glanced back down to the mica glittered floor and breathed the cold air in deeply only to feel his lips against mine. They pressed gently against mine and my breath caught in my throat. He pressed me against the cold wall, but I could only feel myself melt in a heap of moist hot breath and longing. Longing to let everything fall away for an instant, this moment of him pressed against me pressed against this wall. And, just when I thought I could, when I could savor the second of loss in tangled mouths and hands in a want that burned he pulled away, looked into my cloudy gaze and said, "Come on," as he clasped my hand and started toward the staircase. The cold breath of winter exhaled out of my mouth like a stream of cigarette smoke. I wasn't sure if it was relief that I hadn't yet lost myself to this thing or that I wanted to. 

Saturday, January 1, 2011

a toast for the douche bags...

this is my first blog of the new year. typically, i've always dreaded new year's eve. today, i dreaded new year's eve. something about the day makes my skin crawl. i have this image of over-exaggerated smiles pasted on fuzzy drunken faces, loud laughing girls who wear too much make-up, and the drunken souls wandering around the sloppy masses hoping to find a  person to share a midnight kiss with.

somewhere along the line new year's eve became associated with these images in my head. how? i'm not quite sure. and although today didn't quite work out the way it was planned i had probably one of the most pleasant new year's i've had in quite awhile. tonight was a good night. a good night filled with witty jabs and laughter, spilled drinks, and dirty jokes about holes. there was a contained rambunctious ambiance to the night. laughs were had and drinks were drank. of course there were additional people that i wished i could have shared the evening with, but there will be other evenings, other laughter, other drinks, and other kisses at midnight.