It cannot be explained
That which is occuring
No time to linger long
We are not moving
Sentences verbose
Nouns are not enough
Some adjective is needed
My dictionary won't open
Expression
Obsession
Tell me what it is
Without words
Words i want
You know what i need
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Saturday, October 27, 2007
A Dream of Death
Background:
Murder
Murder
Headlines cry
Drowning
Drowning
Green water and die
Falling
Falling
After a fashion
Trapped
Trapped
In weeds of passion
Eyes
Eyes
Psychosis is thine
Mine
Mine
That murder is mine
Present Day:
Wedding bells chime and a Bridal March plays
A Priest, a Priest
Calls for happy days
At the end of the aisle stand a couple of lovers
A fraud, a fraud
Cry all the others
She will not drown, not like those before
Blood, blood
Will come to her door
Uprising ensues when the fraud is revealed
He runs, he runs
His mind still not healed
She was saved, she was, on this very date
For him, for him
Another victim waits
Murder
Murder
Headlines cry
Drowning
Drowning
Green water and die
Falling
Falling
After a fashion
Trapped
Trapped
In weeds of passion
Eyes
Eyes
Psychosis is thine
Mine
Mine
That murder is mine
Present Day:
Wedding bells chime and a Bridal March plays
A Priest, a Priest
Calls for happy days
At the end of the aisle stand a couple of lovers
A fraud, a fraud
Cry all the others
She will not drown, not like those before
Blood, blood
Will come to her door
Uprising ensues when the fraud is revealed
He runs, he runs
His mind still not healed
She was saved, she was, on this very date
For him, for him
Another victim waits
Saturday, October 20, 2007
Hey there Delilah
Light hit her, blinding her eyes, less than a second before the barrage of sounds did the same to her ears. Delilah stood in shock at the number of people crowded into the foyer, laughing and talking loudly. They, in turn stared inquisitively (but politely) at her, unsure who the girl standing upon the doorstep was.
Regaining her senses, she stuttered, "H-hi. I'm Delilah. Gina's friend."
In the distance, she heard a garbled question. A woman near the front of the crowd shouted a response, "It's Delilah, Regina!"
A squeal greeted the shout, followed by a good deal of movement from the crowd - someone was trying to get to the front. After a few seconds a person flew out the door, folding Delilah into a bear hug.
"Reg!" came the strangled gasp from Delilah.
"Yeah let her breathe Gina!" the crowd chorused, as both girls collapsed into giggles.
Most of the evening was a blur for Delilah. After being ushered inside she was immediately absorbed into the crowd. Regina made a point of introducing Delilah to everyone, and while Delilah was sure to forget most names, she felt she was part of the family.
“So Delilah, what’re you studying?” asked one cousin, or aunt, she wasn’t sure, “Gina said something about journalism, but you know how confusing she is.”
“Hahaha, yes I know I can never get a straight answer out of her,” came the giggled reply, “I’m doing a double degree, Science/Arts.”
“Do you have to do maths?” piped up a smaller cousin.
“Yes, sadly I do.”
“Eww! Maths sucks!!!” chimed several cousins.
The laughter never stopped, Delilah noticed. Even if a sombre subject was discussed, another group were laughing, hysterically at that. The family drank up each other’s presence, enjoying every moment they had together. Petty arguments were quickly diffused, the culprits embracing for the rest of the evening.
Soon enough it was announced to the household that the cake would be cut.
“Five minutes okay?” came the warning.
Fifteen minutes later the dinner table was surrounded and the candles were being lit. Delilah watched from behind the crowd as Regina was thrust into the seat at the head of the table. As the last candle was lit, Regina looked around.
“Where’s Delilah?”
Heads turned this way and that. Once Delilah was located, a spotlight could not have been brighter.
“Come ON Delilah!” Regina gestured. Shyly, Delilah made her way over to Regina’s side.
“Take a picture!” someone called. A chorus of assent rose from the crowd, as cameras were passed to the cousins in the foreground. Delilah awkwardly moved closer, before Regina threw her arms around her. Chuckling at her friend’s bluntness, Delilah relaxed into Regina’s arms. Lights flashed around them as they laughed and pulled faces.
Keeping one arm around her friend, Regina picked up the cake knife, staring cheekily around the room.
“Get on with it Gina!” they all knew she was playing, but enjoyed playing along too much, “Just cut the cake already!”
Ginning, Regina made a neat cut into the soft cake, barely disturbing the icing.
Impressed, one cousin remarked, “That’s why she’s going to be such a good surgeon.”
Laughing appreciatively, the crowd continued with their games, “Come on now Gina, you touched the bottom, you have to kiss the nearest boy!”
“What if I don’t want to kiss the nearest boy?” came the half-serious reply.
“Too bad!” the crowd shouted back.
Regina sighed, stating somewhat enigmatically, “Fine, I’ll go for the next best thing.”
Pulling Delilah closer, Regina kissed her; softly at first, then with more flair. The game dictated she put on a show. Staring into each other’s eyes a few seconds later, they couldn’t help smiling shyly. Expecting dead silence, they were surprised at the outbreak of giggles, and a few appreciative whistles. More than a little embarrassed at their daring, Regina and Delilah joined in the laughter.
“Finally!” cried Regina’s sister, “I was so afraid you were going to stay single forever and live as a hermit on some mountain!” A fresh wave of laughter rolled over the crowd. Regina and Delilah smiled and hugged once more.
_____________
Why is it that i write something and hate it once i read over it? Answer me that...
Regaining her senses, she stuttered, "H-hi. I'm Delilah. Gina's friend."
In the distance, she heard a garbled question. A woman near the front of the crowd shouted a response, "It's Delilah, Regina!"
A squeal greeted the shout, followed by a good deal of movement from the crowd - someone was trying to get to the front. After a few seconds a person flew out the door, folding Delilah into a bear hug.
"Reg!" came the strangled gasp from Delilah.
"Yeah let her breathe Gina!" the crowd chorused, as both girls collapsed into giggles.
Most of the evening was a blur for Delilah. After being ushered inside she was immediately absorbed into the crowd. Regina made a point of introducing Delilah to everyone, and while Delilah was sure to forget most names, she felt she was part of the family.
“So Delilah, what’re you studying?” asked one cousin, or aunt, she wasn’t sure, “Gina said something about journalism, but you know how confusing she is.”
“Hahaha, yes I know I can never get a straight answer out of her,” came the giggled reply, “I’m doing a double degree, Science/Arts.”
“Do you have to do maths?” piped up a smaller cousin.
“Yes, sadly I do.”
“Eww! Maths sucks!!!” chimed several cousins.
The laughter never stopped, Delilah noticed. Even if a sombre subject was discussed, another group were laughing, hysterically at that. The family drank up each other’s presence, enjoying every moment they had together. Petty arguments were quickly diffused, the culprits embracing for the rest of the evening.
Soon enough it was announced to the household that the cake would be cut.
“Five minutes okay?” came the warning.
Fifteen minutes later the dinner table was surrounded and the candles were being lit. Delilah watched from behind the crowd as Regina was thrust into the seat at the head of the table. As the last candle was lit, Regina looked around.
“Where’s Delilah?”
Heads turned this way and that. Once Delilah was located, a spotlight could not have been brighter.
“Come ON Delilah!” Regina gestured. Shyly, Delilah made her way over to Regina’s side.
“Take a picture!” someone called. A chorus of assent rose from the crowd, as cameras were passed to the cousins in the foreground. Delilah awkwardly moved closer, before Regina threw her arms around her. Chuckling at her friend’s bluntness, Delilah relaxed into Regina’s arms. Lights flashed around them as they laughed and pulled faces.
Keeping one arm around her friend, Regina picked up the cake knife, staring cheekily around the room.
“Get on with it Gina!” they all knew she was playing, but enjoyed playing along too much, “Just cut the cake already!”
Ginning, Regina made a neat cut into the soft cake, barely disturbing the icing.
Impressed, one cousin remarked, “That’s why she’s going to be such a good surgeon.”
Laughing appreciatively, the crowd continued with their games, “Come on now Gina, you touched the bottom, you have to kiss the nearest boy!”
“What if I don’t want to kiss the nearest boy?” came the half-serious reply.
“Too bad!” the crowd shouted back.
Regina sighed, stating somewhat enigmatically, “Fine, I’ll go for the next best thing.”
Pulling Delilah closer, Regina kissed her; softly at first, then with more flair. The game dictated she put on a show. Staring into each other’s eyes a few seconds later, they couldn’t help smiling shyly. Expecting dead silence, they were surprised at the outbreak of giggles, and a few appreciative whistles. More than a little embarrassed at their daring, Regina and Delilah joined in the laughter.
“Finally!” cried Regina’s sister, “I was so afraid you were going to stay single forever and live as a hermit on some mountain!” A fresh wave of laughter rolled over the crowd. Regina and Delilah smiled and hugged once more.
_____________
Why is it that i write something and hate it once i read over it? Answer me that...
Thursday, October 18, 2007
The Headline Read: Death by Fantasy
Time is irrelevant when in mourning, so feel free to fuck with it. I think someone said that to me one day, years ago. Or I made it up to keep myself happy. Either way, it’s true. I know, because just last week I was fucking with time.
I don’t really remember when I first met her. Seventh grade camp somewhere in the bush, it might have involved an axe and some chocolate. I don’t know, I spent that camp knocked out from a fallen tree branch. All I got to do was archery. Anyway, the week after, at school, she was suddenly my friend.
We had a few things in common, a love of books and classic rock, contempt for ‘dance’ music (that you can only samba to) and the desire to learn how to properly arrange orchards. Mostly we’d predict people’s actions before they carried them out. Though evenly matched, our skill greatly surpassed everyone else’s.
Aside from that, we were two very different people. Putting aside (and occasionally embracing) these differences, our friendship grew. Growing bored with our analysis of playground faces, we extended our talents to the wider community, and, eventually, to literature. Having read most of the classics, and analysed characters and plot, we quickly became stuck. What were we to do, now that we had exhausted our source of fun? It was a conundrum that kept us in a table tennis and pool playing rut for weeks.
The answer came suddenly one day. As most answers do, it arrived on the doorstep at an awkward moment. I could tell you that we were building a small fort in her bedroom but you’d know that wasn’t true. Over dinner than night it was agreed; we would take a novel each and re-write it based on a single change in the main character’s persona.
She chose for me the usual crime-fiction she knew I detested. As parameters: I was not to turn it into a fantasy or romance and feathers were to be involved somehow. For her I chose a fantasy, of course, and told her not to make it crime or historical, and to involve a boa constrictor.
Tragedy struck a week later, on our way home from a picnic. Engrossed as she was in the novel (reading it for the fifth time) she lost all senses and got into a fight with a train. She lost. The irony was not lost on me: the train carriage was called ‘Fantasy’.
I don’t really remember when I first met her. Seventh grade camp somewhere in the bush, it might have involved an axe and some chocolate. I don’t know, I spent that camp knocked out from a fallen tree branch. All I got to do was archery. Anyway, the week after, at school, she was suddenly my friend.
We had a few things in common, a love of books and classic rock, contempt for ‘dance’ music (that you can only samba to) and the desire to learn how to properly arrange orchards. Mostly we’d predict people’s actions before they carried them out. Though evenly matched, our skill greatly surpassed everyone else’s.
Aside from that, we were two very different people. Putting aside (and occasionally embracing) these differences, our friendship grew. Growing bored with our analysis of playground faces, we extended our talents to the wider community, and, eventually, to literature. Having read most of the classics, and analysed characters and plot, we quickly became stuck. What were we to do, now that we had exhausted our source of fun? It was a conundrum that kept us in a table tennis and pool playing rut for weeks.
The answer came suddenly one day. As most answers do, it arrived on the doorstep at an awkward moment. I could tell you that we were building a small fort in her bedroom but you’d know that wasn’t true. Over dinner than night it was agreed; we would take a novel each and re-write it based on a single change in the main character’s persona.
She chose for me the usual crime-fiction she knew I detested. As parameters: I was not to turn it into a fantasy or romance and feathers were to be involved somehow. For her I chose a fantasy, of course, and told her not to make it crime or historical, and to involve a boa constrictor.
Tragedy struck a week later, on our way home from a picnic. Engrossed as she was in the novel (reading it for the fifth time) she lost all senses and got into a fight with a train. She lost. The irony was not lost on me: the train carriage was called ‘Fantasy’.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Una poesia in un ristorante
Fra mille anni
Tratta forse
Che mangiamo qual'cosa differente
Oggi, pero`,
Sto contenta
Di mangiare cosi`
_____
This can be seen as singing the praises of the restaurant, which i was, it was great. Also, this reads as an ad...
Tratta forse
Che mangiamo qual'cosa differente
Oggi, pero`,
Sto contenta
Di mangiare cosi`
_____
This can be seen as singing the praises of the restaurant, which i was, it was great. Also, this reads as an ad...
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
Oh my Beautiful One
I love you to the moon and back
But my spaceship's out of fuel
I would cut the first rose for you
Though i would drown in the garden
Slip beneath the ice
To see my beloved
Cut her a rose
As thorns cut her too
The moon looks black
From this, my vantage
On the negative of a photo
With poison on my lips
While i may be immortal
None know such joys as these
The fire, the lonely suffering
'Tis why i seek to have you closer
I would be with thee
On the black moon of ours
Sharing our poison
Caressing black rose thorns
Yet all the while drowning
Slowly, beneath the ice
But my spaceship's out of fuel
I would cut the first rose for you
Though i would drown in the garden
Slip beneath the ice
To see my beloved
Cut her a rose
As thorns cut her too
The moon looks black
From this, my vantage
On the negative of a photo
With poison on my lips
While i may be immortal
None know such joys as these
The fire, the lonely suffering
'Tis why i seek to have you closer
I would be with thee
On the black moon of ours
Sharing our poison
Caressing black rose thorns
Yet all the while drowning
Slowly, beneath the ice
Thursday, October 4, 2007
Ludwig (unfinished)
Ludwig and Friend were playing a game
“I’ll guess your music, you guess my name”
The challenge was met and, of course, Ludwig won
“My music’s unheard of, your name is just one”
On they both lived, Ludwig and Friend
His name said to none, save a whisper at end
“Come closer, dear Friend,” he called in his way
“Let me whisper your name and bid thee good day”
And so it was that they parted from then
Never to meet, nor to speak again
“I’ll guess your music, you guess my name”
The challenge was met and, of course, Ludwig won
“My music’s unheard of, your name is just one”
On they both lived, Ludwig and Friend
His name said to none, save a whisper at end
“Come closer, dear Friend,” he called in his way
“Let me whisper your name and bid thee good day”
And so it was that they parted from then
Never to meet, nor to speak again
Another Poem From Mathematics
Olfactory Attraction
Deems i prefer one paper
Or one book
Over another
The young and fresh
Adventuresome
Or old, seasoned and loved
You are mine
Be you brash
Reckless in your nature
Or bored and apathetic
True love shall not come from me
Oh to sit with a sturdy tome
Recline and be comfortable
Lightly touch your pages
Lovingly caress your spine
I love you completely
Though you cause me no end of bother
And 'til reality seeks a companion
Fantasy shall be my lover
Deems i prefer one paper
Or one book
Over another
The young and fresh
Adventuresome
Or old, seasoned and loved
You are mine
Be you brash
Reckless in your nature
Or bored and apathetic
True love shall not come from me
Oh to sit with a sturdy tome
Recline and be comfortable
Lightly touch your pages
Lovingly caress your spine
I love you completely
Though you cause me no end of bother
And 'til reality seeks a companion
Fantasy shall be my lover
Parachutes
For Tuls
My little parachute
See it fly
See it soar
You float, you float
So prettily
And float right out the door
Have many little
Adventures
And big adventures too
Just come back
Little parachute
Adventure with me too
My little parachute
See it fly
See it soar
You float, you float
So prettily
And float right out the door
Have many little
Adventures
And big adventures too
Just come back
Little parachute
Adventure with me too
Monday, October 1, 2007
Remember Fold? It's back :)
Fold
Fold again and again
Will you ever stand?
Un-crease the fold?
Allow life
So walk along
Smell a rose
Just be
Is this the last act in the play?
How will you end?
Break the shackles of existence?
Will you be free after that?
So please fold again and again
Stand up and shout!
Un-crease that fold
In your cape
Allow us to be
Walk along with me
Smell that rose
Let it be
Face the Last Act
End the Play
Free you prisoners
Just don't save the day
No just Fold
Fold again and again
Will you ever stand?
Un-crease the fold?
Allow life
So walk along
Smell a rose
Just be
Is this the last act in the play?
How will you end?
Break the shackles of existence?
Will you be free after that?
So please fold again and again
Stand up and shout!
Un-crease that fold
In your cape
Allow us to be
Walk along with me
Smell that rose
Let it be
Face the Last Act
End the Play
Free you prisoners
Just don't save the day
No just Fold
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
