092808 1:38AM

The stoplights in your eyes
are holding me captive
while I am waiting
ten seconds,
twenty seconds,
forty;

always waiting for that
light to change
from the auburn romance
that holds me tight
a red light district
of cultural deprivation.

And there is no one on the road
in this isolated ghost town
except for you at home
your stoplight control.

I am always waiting
for the lights in your eyes
waiting for them to turn
to the effervescent green
that golden sunlight
cast through fauna
that signal screaming,

"Go! Go! Go! Go!"

When I will drag race
past the 50's idyllic woman
with the scarf waving bold
by her hipbones

and fly into the sunset
the midnight
that is you.

092398- I tell my friend it's nonsense.

Broken battlehands in the morning and the cold of my feet- my hands- like Krispy Kreme filling ground into the interior furnishings of your floorboards. For sanity's sake she is I am waiting for the light to change but this is the longest red light in the history of bank robbing nightmares and there isn't an approaching car in sight. The gentlemen ladies all loiter by the liquor store while dust gathers thick on the dashboard of desire.

The cookies are burning while my keys are locked inside and I can see them taunting me through glass smeared in fingerprints and longing. Desperate cries of animal scratching fills the air while toxic coils of smoke billow from the kitchen to fill the house and I will never be able to clean the stench of stupid choices and hapless failures from the walls.

White walls; why is every apartment wall in my desolate American existence painted so stark and colorless?

But I am covered in the wet cat snarls of hair matted damp across my face and rat's nest blond strands colored blue and a pink-red fading to sun-bleached sofas when I forgot to pull the blinds at midday.

The Tree; by Ashelin

I broke the plates against the Tree
Then tried to bite through the glass
Until my teeth cracked
Opening up uncertain
That their uses were useful after all
So they crawled from my mouth and dug into the trunk
Too fragile for the roots
Too rough for the fruits
Hanging a little too high above my head
No matter that I tried to reach
Wrap my arms around the body and shake it
But my fingers don’t touch

The babies trapped inside the skins cry
Confused that they're living
Hating all this breathing
With their insides screaming while their mother beams
Letting them hang and droop
Birds landing on her branches
Their feathers turn into fur
And their beaks eat themselves
Soon to become lips
While the hair dissolves
I don’t want to watch but my eyes stay
Centered on this piece of evolution
He’s a man but his parts are crawling back
Inside himself
He’s frightened
As his legs follow
His body and his arms
Until he’s only inversion
A vacuum

But the babes are safe again

I’m puking and the Tree is eating it
All the good things rushing out of me
Glowing into forsaken things
There’s no wind but the limbs shiver and sing
The leaves are bending and melting
And soon it’s raining waste
I’m covered in the discharge but I can’t complain
Recalling my questioning
I’d asked for it

I’m naked now
Still waiting
Lounging on a groundless place where the plants grow
Upside-down
Watching through the peephole in my floor
As the roots take bloom
Entwining each other I know the are courting
Enticing themselves though they know they're fruitless
No egg and no seeds
No feeding babies on a hot July night
Or listening to children scream
They’re colorless
And I’m human so I love their lust
My lips try to smile but I know they won’t
So it’s up to my eyes instead

My body rolls over
The Mother wants to hate me
Hurt and disappoint me
But the little ones are worth more
So she drops them
Round and fragile onto my fake earth
Until their sacs tear
And all the zombie fingers move
Eyes blind and yet they see me
Feel me and want me
So much so that soon they eat me
And my bones are licked clean
I’m not ghost just soaked
Inside their bloodless gut
Not a soul
No longer a body
Just meat

The Tree
Mother
They call to her and sing
Devil
The roots scream
Like some orgasm cry for mercy
I’m silent
Because she has my teeth
And the children have my body
And the roots don’t have anything

But they didn’t care in the first place

Bakery Breads.

Fennel fireworks and I am dreaming of your face in the moonlight stargazing to catch a chance to make a wish at midnight. You sparkle through the atmosphere, your dreams cast down through ozone and into my open late summer window.

Autumn is coming and with it your dreams will lengthen along with the nights and the sky will turn crisp in a way that let's you see God more clearly.

I am laid out on the frost of morning and telling you my dreams to narrate the sunrise. I am waiting all day for my time to match that of the rest of the world.

trabant journal 2005

"no man
(or woman of course)
is a fool
who gives up
what he cannot
keep -------> to gain
what he
cannot lose."

Transition.

Come 5 AM
Full moon stark and silent
the final hour
blackened skies.

Come 5:30
Cream rings enclose the moon
the morning haze
the darkest blue.

Come 6 AM
Twilight of dawn
silhouetted landscape
silhouetted trees.

Come 6:15
Gray sky waking
sleepy earth in green
milk moon begins to set.

Come 6:20
Lightened shades of sunrise
songbird morning lullaby
goodnight moon serenade.

Come 6:25
Moon low over trees
child eyes stare off
color wakes a daybreak.

Come 6:27
Rose-carnation yellow sky
dark trees against pastel
morning lunar transition.

Come 6:30
Lilac gold cements the earth
pave the sky in sunlight
bright to stir the life.

Come 6:37
Pink fades to white now
air holds all color
sun rise steady.

Come 6:45 AM
Dawn in atmosphere
morn spread in dewdrops
as I fall back to sleep.

091308

"You were not there
but the sun doesn't care
who she shines on."

Ode To My Lover

I'm missing you lovely
you're drifting my way
through bus stops and heartstrings
we're miles away

But draw each step closer
this dose of your light
I'll drive all night for you
to grasp your hand tight

We're veterans my baby
don't fear for my heart
for I am yours always
even when worlds apart

We're veterans my baby
through lovers and men
my blood runs persistent
My angel in sin.

So breathe deeply darling
to fill my lungs sure
these cords can't be broken
by life's teemed allure

I'm missing you always
drawn fast to your side
reverberate darling
your song's where I hide

my heart fast and longing
too fluid to break
I'll hold you forever
your claim is my stake

I'm bound to you darling
by God's silver lash
and dreams loomed and woven
where cosmonauts clash

So fear not for baby
I'm here with my blood
to slip through your heartbeats
by soil or sud.

I'll catch on you lovely
a lifegrip unleashed
You're mine now for always
all others beseeched.

I'll catch on you lovely
by midnight and moon
our veins are entangled
the world our monsoon.

090208

Dear Mother,
I need a heart that's tough
a heart that's not so open
and whimsically asking for it.

For Mother,
my heart burns and burns and burns
when there isn't any need.
My heart yearns and yearns and yearns

for the pull of a sweet song
begs for the touch of a romance
and the shockwaves, shockwaves, shockwaves,
leave a heart in weak quivers.

Mother,
I need a heart of iron
cast for all eternity
strong enough to scatter violent, scatter violent, scatter
down all those flights of stairs.

Down all those flights of stairs.
Down all those flights of stairs.
Down all those flights of stairs
and just dust off at the bottom.
And just dust off at the bottom.

But Mother,
is it any better to have a heart
to have a heart that bleeds and bleeds and bleeds
even if it bleeds me cold and pale-
than a heart so shackled
so cast in shielding
that its ventricles,
that its ventricles are useless?
Useless. Useless. Useless. Useless.

That its ventricles won't even pump life?

KelliAnne Pt. 2

I love your freckled sweet name taste
when rain pours down across your face
and periwinkle fills our space
KelliAnne, KelliAnne, KelliAnne.

Our cookies baked and burned to crisps
the laughter coats our hair in whisps
our lips articulate with lisps
KelliAnne, KelliAnne, KelliAnne.

The trees our haven's play for days
in summer storms or green-lit rays
or wild nights inside I'd say
KelliAnne, KelliAnne, KelliAnne.

Your paint to cover stark white walls
or catch me in my troubled falls
with tea each night to fill the halls
KelliAnne, KelliAnne, KelliAnne.

My pains were never long to last
your cured persuasion coming fast
your influence for joy deep cast
KelliAnne, KelliAnne, KelliAnne.

I've loved you since the day we met
in fits of giggles our paths set
and with you I can't bear to fret
KelliAnne, KelliAnne, KelliAnne.

The Summer's stars are in your eyes
while Autum's coming turns the skies
I'll miss you through our last goodbyes
KelliAnne, KelliAnne, KelliAnne.

KelliAnne Pt. 1

Angels in the outwind
and Ill miss you so fucking much
because you are my girl
And I love you
you have no idea
How much i adore you
with your red locks
and your angel lashes.
You're amazing
with your kisses golden and
your face amazing
I adore you
You'll never know
how much
I love you.

082808- Stream of consciousness.

bake me
break me
I'm broken
and faking
and thrilling
the wild party
lifestyle
without you.

And one day
I'm so
on the level
of apricots
and party hearty
porno films
but what the fuck
did I do to myself?

and I miss you
I miss you
I miss how you
loved me
and kissed me
and promised me
a life.

So what happened
to our promises
and long nighted
kisses
and curled together
in my pink sheets or
on your floor because
you never needed
a bed.

And I miss you
like starlight
and muscle cars
and vanilla shakes
at two in the morning.

I miss you.

082808- You.

Why can't I write about you?
I loved you for so damn long.
Why can't I write about you?
We were supposed to get married for heaven's sake.

I loved you for so damn long.
We were supposed to get an apartment and a pug and
We were supposed to get married for heaven's sake.
I loved you for so fucking long.

We were supposed to get an apartment and a pug and
Why you do you still torture me?
I loved you for so fucking long.
But I can't feel anything.

Why do you still torture me?
You make me feel everything.
But I can't feel anything.
And the anguish comes in waves.

You make me feel everything.
And I fall down on the kitchen floor.
And the anguish comes in waves.
So I cry at dumb poems.

And I fall down on the kitchen floor.
And drink myself stupid.
So I cry at dumb poems.
And I don't have to think.

And drink myself stupid.
Caused I loved you for so fucking long.
But I can't feel anything.
Why can't I write about you?

082808- Love and War.

So many beautiful people.
We have so many beautiful people.
With horsepower untapped
and bible pages unwritten
and YES last year was electrifying
and YES last year was psychosis
but last night was so hot
you made me want to
tear my skin off!
To suck you in like campfire smoke
and fill my lungs with your passions.
Your possibilities are endless
and I want to kiss all of your faces.
You leave me tracing your words
around my dreams
and setting your verbs
to the beat of my heart.
I want to spend an eternity
dissecting you
laying on twisted sheets
and studying every inch of you.
And there's are so many of you
I'd have to die ten times
to encompass all of you.

082808- For a zombie in a dress.

I don't eat enough,
and I never have.

I'm avoiding writing
what I should be writing
because I'm afraid
it will hurt too much.

And I never knew how
good I would be
at detaching
and it terrifies me.

And I just keep getting
thinner and
thinner and
it hurts each time I smile
to cover up the fact
that I'm crying instead.

But I am spinning around the night
like firefly sparklings
and laughing in the darkness
so you can't see how much
it pains me
and it shows across my face.

And I'm desperate
to analyze it
rationalize and make it logic
because I'm afraid
it will hurt too much.

And I'm desperate
to love
every face that I see
just to cover this part
of my life.

And I'm dying
to feel
as alive as I can
because otherwise
what did I do this for?

Isn't this what I wanted?
Isn't this my desire?

I need to find something
alive
to fill my bones with
transplanting the marrow
that's weighing me down.

So hand me my sun glasses
so I can cover my eyes
and pretend I'm not just
a zombie in a dress.

082808- Stream of consciousness.

I hope Kate and Michael don't want to seminar about my work today
because I haven't written anything good.
And I feel like my mind is on overdrive
and it works much faster than my pen.
This music sounds like a Miyazaki film
and my blanket feels soft like stuffed animal ice cream cones.
And its so nice against my skin
that's so broken and battered
it aches with each step I'm at war.
I'm at war with my eyes,
lips, mouth, teeth, nose, and grin.
I'm at war with my voice and by legs
but I love your freckles.
But I'm so filled with conflict
and an over abundance overwhelming
my tear ducts until
they leave their factories in abandonment
for a crier's strike and a better paycheck.
And you're walking all over the walls
circling around my head
and I just want to kiss your face.
You're tall and beautifully dark
and take the shape of
every boy I've ever kissed.
And I want to touch your skin
but skin is weird
and I am weird
and you are weird
so lets do a Chinese fire drill
instead.

082808

I stare into the mirror peering
face into a phantom leering
who the fuck is this woman?

Sunken eyes, a face the shell-
the hallowed exoskeleton tell
me what the hell are you looking at?

You drone around here vacant eyed
darkened with detachment tried
the sting of denied emotion;

I hate you with your glass blown stare
the mask that's always, always there
cheekbones to hide expression.

Behind your down-turned smile eyes
Your oxygen comprised of lies
I hate you with your character.

Your freckles analytical
your mouth awake and always full
of lines rehearsed and spoken

A broken dozen roles you play
your daily life a matinée
I hate you with your DNA.
I hate you with your logic.

Quote.

"Passion enslaves
no matter how willingly
we wear it's shackles."

For Liz.

You wrote nonsense on the inside of my ears
and it swirled in an atmospheric pressure.
You looked into my ambiance like
first dates and ice cream cones
and erotica shoved under the bed.

You were gold and tangerine sofabeds
slipped in the corner of the bedroom.

I was mirrors on the ceiling
and cast-iron bed posts.
I wanted you like face flushed in firelight
though your lips are small like mine.

You spoke the passion of jet fuel
into the faces of breathless lovers
and I wanted to crawl inside of your bones.

You bled black opals into an ocean made of jasmine
and I wanted to light you like incense-
burn you long in ribbons
that curl around my flesh-
let you satiate my brain
as bubbles in tonic.

You stretched naked onto midnight quicksand
and allowed me to cover
your arteries in kisses;
but they were too sweet and

I wanted to bury you in the earth,
bathe your body in maternity,
and then devour the fruits
of my labor slowly- like fine chocolate.

You wrote nonsense on the inside of my skin
and it pulsed into my lymph-nodes
beaded out of my pores, onto my flesh,
transforming my epidermis into ecstasy.

You laid your self out on my hands
and gave me vulnerability and
the trust of your first time
with your first lover,
although this is not the first time
and we are not lovers.

Ghazal written with Wendy.

This breeze is a tyrant of possibilities.
I let out my heat and move every leaf in the clearing.

The chill cyclone swallows my skin.
Each pore aroused and pulsing into night.

On the rolling backside of the bay.
Starlight churns up from the ocean.

Feet numbing against the husks of summer
hips thrust in a pulsing ambition.

My body breaks the wind down to it's owl screech center
and it pulls me in deep midnight ricochet.

Naked in the mouth of wind
I am lust on the sea of my dreams.

082508

Our bittersweet battle is Jersey-knit cotton.
Our bittersweet battle is empty bookshelves.
Our bittersweet battle is my cast-iron innocence.
Our bittersweet battle is a hidden cage.

Our bittersweet battle is citric on cracked lips.
Our bittersweet battle is dried flowers.
Our bittersweet battle is your soup in my cupboard.
Our bittersweet battle is unhealed scars.

Our bittersweet battle is my childhood regression.
Our bittersweet battle is disappointment.
Our bittersweet battle is divided expression.
Our bittersweet battle is translusive.

082408- Campfire Starlight

You make me ache in the pit of my soul.
And you go to my head like smoke.
And you drive me crazy like boogy-woogie-oogie.
And I'll kiss your face like tangerine.

And the clouds will devour us all.
And you could steal my sliver.
Fuck syllables. Fuck salivac.
Saliva flowing five-seven-five.
This myth is sex on fireworks.

Capture a moment in the simplest form,
and I just want to live.
And that is what it really boils down to.

082408- Heard poem.

That's mine!
It's like the size of Texas
and we fuckin' mixed it.

There's phosphorescences.
And guitar.
And music.
And melody.
And is this my notebook?
Yes, this is my notebook.

And 11:47 is moonrise.
And, Riley,
this is what it's all about.
And I'm gonna play poetry music
for you to write to.

You write to Poodle-Muffin,
who should not be fighting.
And we lost Joe.
Off the bench we lost her.

Play me a song.
I'd like to save it
and keep the memories.

082408- Drunk heard poem.

I have a lot of drink-drank stuff
smoke some mango and Eggs Benedict.
Smoke some mango man.
I-I- those Mexicans never eat chili
celiot lindo de contrabando
the beautiful sky is forbidden
I said thank you, not damn you.
And you seem like someone
who needs to learn this
the way I learned this-
What happens at poetry camp
stays at poetry camp.
And you never told me
that he e-mailed poetry.
My life is full of scandals-
and she's got beautiful breasts-
she says, "I like scandals."

082608- Night poem.

I am like eagle shit
I just fall from the sky
and noodles are flaccid and shiny
but they're not flaccid,
they're not shiny.

And I want to kiss your face.
And you're sexy as fuck
so have an Oreo cookie.
And if I could afford coke
I would do it.

082608

I am open and vulnerable
my sleep eyes are flashing
and now I can't get you
off of my mind

and you are cigarettes and CDs
and long midnight kisses
and eyes that destroy you

in speaking and blinking
and you're reading my feverish mind
long with desire

I want you
I want you
'cause I'm not supposed to
and now you're stuck fast in my brain

spinning touch me
you shouldn't
'cause you're not supposed to
so why do I wake
with your face on my lips

and my dreams reach out grasping
I'm asking you
please won't you touch me
just touch me
I want you to give me

Your hair
and your eyes
and your lips
curled and grinning.

It is sweet and right to die for your country.

It is sweet like sticky licky sugar sutured
to a sensation stationed around the nation
ovation with pride-lied motivation
manipulation and calculation
caused creation capillary palpitation
panicked manic malformation
from passion patient passed down
pupil people pleasure pervasion.

And it is right like tight sight tingles
tortured and masculated
children of men of Americanization.
Spreading Jesus please-us
proper people pasted with propaganda
going candid for camera
captured malice masqueraded
multimedia proclamation

explore the televised sensation
of power pandered mobilization
with goal grabbed gates guarding
enemy sterilization
substituting simplistic existence
of listless persistence
and melodic harmony happy
home sweet home is nationalization.

For death is dually dosed
in double dozen batches
wielding matches meeting matches
paired by continental cut-off
click clack clashes
bloody bodied crashes
caused by red, white, beautiful
band brimming sashes

and blood bathed boys
brought up basting and tasting
violent silent dried-eyed lashes
awaiting thrashes from teachers
teaching tasteless tortured mashes
of heroic stoic seasoned soldiers
in liberty-clad mustaches.

Their heads filled and thrilled
by chilling killing folklore
of heroes heeding heaven
hasteless holding,
glory gained and gory
but rewards far worth the cash list.

And this their aspiration
a destination of gratification
with flags of silver star-striped saviors
to coat the fatal laceration.

And their hearts are worth the sacrifice.
The freedom come is twice as nice.
They'll fill the ground in one, two, thrice
for this is what they live for.

082508

War is a force that drives us.
And I fuckin' hate it
These battles bleed relentless
My culture is malignant.

And I fuckin' hate it
Thick toxic channels
My culture is malignant.
Veins rise up defective.

Thick toxic channels
Carry sick power to death
Veins rise up defective.
War is a force that drives us.


Written in collaboration with Mary.

082508- Why cosmonaut?

The chronic enigma
fondling sweet despair
vicious greed bash
and implode.

Exasperate the delicate
core; vicious silk.
Red, red, red, red
and trouble.

And why the studly spectacle?
Red, red, red, red
and silk.
Sweet silk the core

and fondle the
chronic greed vortex
and vicious delicate
the tambourine.

And red, red, red, red
the enigma.
And red, red, red, red
the cosmonaut.

082408- Found line.

Love was a great predicament
and a riddle
she moved behind the eyes
of conversations unspoken
and the kinetic desire
pulsing from touch.

She swayed like Autumn
buzzing electricity in the ears
and curling with the grin
of secrets spread across the lips.

She was powdered aphrodesia
whispering soft lashes winking
at the raised eyebrow arch
of bare skin and
broken smiles.

Love was magnetic.
She was raw vulnerable
behind layers of painted sarcasm
spread across her eyes
that left her expose without regard.

She was damaged in a way
that made her priceless
as she flowed into the tears
of those who spoke her name
with a voice that was cold like Mercury.

And in the breaking morning
she dazzled across the lawn
in dewdrops to reflect
your light onto the world.

Love was unanswered questions
extended "what if"'s
and hopeless longing.

She thought of you when she knew
she shouldn't
and she danced inside your skull
to spin your dreams around her skirts
and entangle your thoughts in her laughter.

Love was a great predicament
and a riddle
she moved into the constant ache
resting under your ribs
and her smile
was a song you wanted to die to.