Dark Poetry Prose Poetry May 16, 2004 Dark Poetic Prose

10pm 5-16-04 sunday

oh to be a kid again. to be fearless enough to fly scooters down mountains and jump freely from cliffs.

feelings swim memory's roaring rapids. a hint of their breath. the friction in a kiss. nimble fingrers. moist skin. i close my eyes and see it all again. and wait for the sensation to return as well. but all that's left is just the memory and myself.

i guess that life never meant to do all these things that it's done. it was just waiting for me to make it happen and got bored. tried to make a break from this prison.

i guess love isn't a criminal. i just always put it on trial.

when i can feel tomorrow so close like it is now, i can't help wondering why it so readily gives itself to people who don't want it while those that worship her she denies.

when i can feel tomorrw as close as it is now, i try to tell it to go find someone else who wants it, but it never listens.

sleeping hearts snore so loud that you can almost hear their dreams. mouths agape. flat on their backs and begging to be needed.

like orange cones along the road. ever present symbol of imperfection. like jughandles when you expected a left turn lane. they alternate at every intersection where i'm from. to confuse the tourists. to cause accidents where they otherwise would seldom happen.

constant changing. adaptation. renovating. like life does. all around us. digging up pipes for better pressure. widening roads to accomodate more travellers. letthing go of freedoms because your patriotism tells you so. lying to your children. to yourself. telling them this is the land of the free. it never really was. and i don't think that it will ever be.

just rambling like i do. but they still contain truth. it's the patriot act. it's the war on terrorism. it's every act of government i can remember since. it's no health care. it's so much selfishness. it's gasoline and power. and naive americans proud that their sons have died for it.

it's world war two. and hilter. the allieds and the axis. it's every war we intervened in. vietnam. korea. all the rest. and knowing that america, or at least its government, didn't care who was dying. that those politicians were only serving their own best interests.

10:30pm sunday 05-16-04

do you sleep? do you dream? do you miss me at all. a little. just a little bit that you can handle. like seeing chocolate bars at the wawa register and just only buying your coffee?

do i feel. did i ever. more than relfections. more than echos. anything real.

do i want you to love me. no i don't. better you should just stay where you've been. cause i could never replace all those things you have.

so what then? why ask. why throw a fit. don't have a good reason. don't want anything except. it's so tired even i'm sick of it. make it happen someday soon i guess. or else just shut my mouth and admit i'm too weak to do it. admit that weakness is the only thing keeping me alive. and never mention it again.

thorns on your rose are evident. make red kisses on your skin. make warm puddles of life in the shadows of your arrogance. red ribbons instead of blue ones. who'll know the difference. the prize is still the prize. win it any way you can.

break the seal. see the hope in darkness. slowed heartbeats meant for. woven into your daily regiment of alcohol and hope that no one notices how quiet. since you've always been quiet. since it has to happen even if they'd rather it didn't.

why bother waiting, when they're waiting just the same. such hypocrites. beg you to live, when they can't find in themselves one to give. why bother to wait when they too will only die in the end. suffer a little greif for at last an end to it. all that guilt tends to fade away on nights such as this. all that fear seems to melt away when so many breaths chase eachother like they do now. eager and relentless. stupid and ignorant of what they're doing. just words. just rhyme. just pages. happiness like freedom is slowly stripped. one law at a time. i give up. it's so much bigger than me. so much bigger than all of us. and no one wants to see it.

05-16-04 sunday 10:55pm

of all the sorts of dreams there are to have, none of them really matter unless. unless you wake up and they're still holding your hand. just like a song that makes you close your eyelids, but tears your through your heart. just like people. how their love does move in waves. drowns you in it. how you still feel the motion long after it's stopped. that turning. that helplessness against. that suffocation. the inability to forget.

if life is the pollen and we are the bees who make honey from it. well, i've never liked honey nor the hive mentality. think i'd rather be a wasp. at least when they sting they keep their abdomens. at least when they sting it doesn't tear them apart.

i can't ignore what some people have been. what they've meant. but neither can i make it enough when it isn't. when enough seems ridiculous. that enough isn't the answer, but rather the problem. that less. so much less is all that i've ever really needed.

and human nature. what's that about. put yourself at the level of animal and then in the next breath say you're better. either you've instincts or you don't. either your animal or you aren't. you can't be both. if you want to be the top of the food chain then go ahead, hunt like they do. without guns. without crossbows. or else admit that we're something altoghther different. that we can build these killing machines, but we can't stop our own species from using them against us.

just admit that you don't have any reason better than the animals you hunt. you're only living cuz you were born. that you don't deserve to be at the top of the food chain cuz you can't come up with one good reason why you are. all those guns. well, they might get you dinner, but they've killed so many of your own.

it's not that i'm any better. meat tastes good i know. it's just that i admit i'm no different. no different from the lions and the tigers. no different except. the only thing that separates us is our ability to admit that we don't reallly want to live.