they say that in just one second
a telephone signal travels 100,000 miles
through daybreak and milky way skies
yet i’m here sitting behind you
and you’re unreachable ―
they say that in just one second
eight million of my blood cells can die
and it’s because i’ve taken all of that time
holding my breath listening to you
(i think i’ll need more air ―)
they say that in just one second
seventy nine stars vanish from the galaxy
imploding into showers of dust and hope all at once
so i guess some stardust fell on your tongue
when you said, “i’m sorry, i don’t like you.” ―
winter:
garbage in, garbage out
motes of mold spotted about
frostbitten january candle wax
sever sharply at the wicked stem
ice in the place of flame as i breathe
drawing mindlessly on foggy windows
i wait for snowfall to hurry and
bury my home.
spring: is a cacophonous
symphony of birds and bees
crumbs of pollen from trees
my pallid lungs slowly drink —
the dancing circus waltz of the sun.
light peeks through soiled windows
illuminating brightly in spite of webs
and empty spider husks filtering my view
my mind sprawls out of the glass hole
and down, down where the rabbit goes
i.
“ what would you like to order? ”
ah, um — a cup of silence, please
“ alright, what size will silence be? ”
large, if you will, for my chronic fatigue
i just need something
ii.
when were mornings so loud?
from a million thoughts pacing around
of what i’ve got to do, what i need to do,
i’ll miss my deadline again —
do’s and don’ts never end
iii.
want to know why it’s noisy?
because of newsfeeds and notifications;
all of your status updates and communications;
commercials, television, and video advertisements;
musical needs to satisfy, and new gaming entertainments;
because you’re too busy reblogging, retweeting, replying
to one last email, person, and (what else am i forgetting?)
there’s your nightly facebook, tumblr, skype checks,
can’t stop because a new post, picture, email, message was sent
and of course, your phone’s important and so are your texts
you have to see what your friend says before you hit the bed
double check, triple check, making sure you’re all up-to-date, not satisfied until there’s nothing left for you to see, your devour this information hungrily — but — it’s — already 3AM —
and too late.
iv.
tune it down
(you’re still safe and sound)
so, tune it down
v.
my lips cusp the rim and i sip,
(slowly — calmly — quietly …)
savoring the flavor of silence,
it’s simplicity.
and it works —
better than coffee
and better than tea,
drink, drink your cup
of silence.
( … )
(you already did.)
Write about which chess piece you are most like and why.
A mare neighed, scuffing tiredly and galloping steadily into the distance of the sinking sunset of a vastly stretched desert floor. A young knight was mounted on the saddle, steering the reins and orienting herself intently to the compass needle. She squinted as gusts of fine sand caught between her eyelashes, and above her, the scorching sun boiled the blood within her veins. Just a little more, she perspired, until I can get to a safe clearing.
Today, I want to be the wind — wafting through the cool air, tumbling in and through the seams of your hairlock. My breath will filter through bug-speckled leaves, and I’ll whirl over the nests of croodling chicks as rest to sleep. When I huff and puff upon the earth — Ho, to the north east we go! — clouds will swell like dollops of buttermilk, spreading wholly across the palette of the tempest sky. My symphony will whir idly through languid afternoons, brazenly in the gusts of prickling mornings and wintry nights. I want to be nothing and everything the wind is — not seen, but touched; not found, but felt.
i tried to begin—
i really did.the curve of my mouth
almost spoke
and stopped.the same way
i’d want to cross the street
with one second remaining
sometimes, i ran across
and made it in time.
“i’m the first on the other side!”
i’d yell in my head.
but I’m waiting for
myself to catch up,
because I’ve left her behind
in a game of tag
I thought about it again. There was no way to begin. The way that I spoke to begin, even if I were to (mutter my whispers) or YELL OUT AS LOUD AS I COULD or keep running and running my sentences on without a stop — how disorganized, disheveled, and messily spouted and spitted from my tongue! How I would fritter over upon these ugly spill of words, afraid that it would not be fit for others to lay eyes and ears on! I slowly rescinded from the frivolous chatter of my mind, and dove — dove into the depths to glide in earth’s frothy waters.I tried to search for a glistening pearl —
But I stopped —
You do not need to search for a pearl,
You already are the sea.
i am a penny
chiseled into the concrete
& i’m merely one of the many
sitting beside your feet.
although
my heart is copper
my edges veiled with rust
& i’m not the shiniest showstopper
if you tuck me safely in your pocket,
i’ll give you every bit of my luck.
splitting needle pricks and jagged crystal sticks
suspended in the air like permafrost candle-wicks
icy breaths exasperated in the place of a flame
against the vacuous arctic fields of milky white pastemy jeweled pupils fixated widely on the tip of an icicle spear
waiting to spy a bead of water drip from the adorned chandelier
enchanted by the paradoxical harmony of formation and liquidation
to watch whether time would further solidify or melt in condensation
Steep your tea in swirling heat
And sip it slowly as the steam arises―
The rim and glossed lip will slowly meet
Wholesomely in their incandescent reveries,
Almost entirely, a part of your spirit is diffused
In the dye’s intensity― in perfect cadency―
melted pearls of sand
bathed in the moon’s afterglow―
and the blemished speck soon dissolved
for earth tip-toed on the faltering film of a ripple
and billowed skirts of blue raced beyond
on and on―
the pores of soil
breathed deeply from the shore
its frothed residue creeped onto the vessels
and the desaturation dipped into a gorge
though sorrow wrinkles the waters’ tresses
the oceans continue to drift on―
as our divide do― and on
If I could dream, it’d be of the sweetest things—
Like pom-poms of petals pirouetting, proudly curtsying
The bubbly dew-dropples and savory wafts of sugary ruffles
As the candy-coated orb cools into a cocoa crescent truffle;
A sweep of its white powder backdrops the syrupy honey sky—
The snow-melt residue casts the darkness with its Milky-way dye
Crumples of cotton fluffs swirls subtly to the shades of time
So say “Sweet dreams” — I shall sleep until you softly wake me with
“Rise and shine.”
Solivagant aromas fill the frolicking air;
Faintly lingering of bristling flower hairs—
Each unfurling petal carefully dried and pressed;
Then tucked away safely in a creaky drawer or desk—
Revivifying petrichor emits from the dusty window sill
And the distilled essences stain onto fragile paper wills—
The shades of season joust the vantage points of a world;
Opening a pandora’s box, the dried momentos undeterred
Writhing and seething into an intertwining agglomeration
The hearth dare spit fiery breaths from its smoky conflagration
Rich rubescent swirls sink into a sallow pool of bubbling sulfur
As coalescing shades and coagulating veins rise into into a slur—
Wuthering from bickering murmurs; its brew of poison saturate—
Hot flashes churn, crackled bones burn; the splitting gash conflates—
As spittles of scarlet ember melt into dusty specks of eigengrau;
Brittle charcoal tear; paper skin cremating into a fueling shroud—
Played drums for the first time:
A pulse flows through my curved fingertips
While electrifying power fuels my wooden grip
The sounds strike, resonating the depth of its core
As a steady heartbeat stirs life across the floor—
My soul tremors, my feet shake to the movement,
Breathing in and out the rhythm of each moment
Sparks of energy flew, and this is how I knew
That I firmly held time within my palms—
And I carried it all along—
Stop to let the scattered pieces rest—
And transfix glass fragments in your chest;
Crystal edges that will never again soften
With these icy winds blowing ever so often—
Treading carefully on this glacial sea
Sculptured to a finish with frosted memories
Recollecting what froze you in the first place—
And stole the smile from your face
