Dark Poetry Prose Poetry July 17, 2003 Dark Poetic Prose

7-17-03 thursday 8pm brick NJ

a face is never just a face. a smile not just a smile. you crawl through the layers to find new dimensions of dark and light.

a night not simply darkness. you touch the shadows to find they are sentient.

if it's 3 am should i be lonely again? if it's been a long day should i lament?

matchbox twenty people. metallica feelings. iconical and yet all too real.

it holds you when. the edge of your life struggling for footing against the gravity of depression.
it always holds on for a few moments before it falls again.

why write for the good things when they leave you so empty and easy. why write for the smile that causes all other thoughts to leave. no reason to write when the grin is so much stronger than the sadness. poor unwritten smiles. they are too much to write. much too perfect for words to define.

just a sentence or two and then breaking. sharp and furious like the chorus to the bridge. power chord moments dent the soft soil they tread. melodic faces dimple the life they've spung up in. like a song too quitet to hear. a rhythm beneath perception. the flesh feels it, but the mind cannot contend.

never on a night like this. never on any night i've lived. but the daylight sneaks glances when we're too busy to keep her in check. the sun takes pictures and later we will find them. suddenly remembering what we've missed. suddenly discovering life did happen. and now knowing it will again.

7-17-03 9:10pm brick NJ

i can be what i've never been if i just try. be more than. like a bird in flight. the wind carrying everything i am. hollow bones pretending that gravity does not exist.

my immortal. my tv that doesn't speak. my tourniquet. my room that doesn't keep.

i can be what i am not. all the things that life wants. like a spark about to light. oxygen befriends my presense. orange air growing on the wind.

i can let you. be what you can. nothing that i need and yet more than i've ever wanted. i can watch you like a movie turning much too slowly. jagged frames betraying the story they are telling

i can know you if you let me. open bottle necks begging drinking. lonely friends afraid of finding. once the prize is had, what reason is there to keep trying then. once you have what you've always wanted, there's nothing left to seek. and so we can't. much as it means. we never can.