Dark Poetry Prose Poetry September 7, 2003 Dark Poetic Prose

9-07-03 12am sunday brick NJ

tease the night like it won't know. tempt it to. darkness gathering against the silence. tears smothered in indifference. love what you can. what you have or what you don't. when time finally calls our bluffs all bets will be lost. all alliances called off.

love me as if you really could. believing in every syllable like i could ever find truth in what you choose. there's just no way to. tainted as this path has been. where to find purity in.

and love be pure. mustn't it. take what in yourself you can find and offer it up to the kindness of. of people you know will ultimately make you regret you did. but as many times as you kill it still the heart goes on to live. try to teach it. try to make it understand. but no words can touch. no lies can dismiss. it always ends, but not without a flourish. not without a lot of bloodshed.

9-7-03 sunday 8:18am brick NJ

in how you feel you must trust to be your champion.

like gods and soldiers.

give them weapons and wait for the killing to ensue.

never knowing until the battle's done who will win.

always thinking one side must.

but it isn't true. no one ever does.

there are no sides. there are no heros.

there's just a lot of bodies. a lot of blood.

and so many ghosts.

9-07-03 10:56am sunday brick NJ

i'm so bored that i'm watching Ally McBeal.

and the sound isn't even on.

i'm so bored i'm considering leaving the house...

actually going outside.

i'm so bored i'm writing this web page in notepad...

tag by tedious tag.

and i can't remmember how to make html tags appear as text on the page.

except space   see         spaces

i'm so bored i took an online test to find out which kind of donut i am.

<a href="http://www.internetjunk.org">Internet Junk</a><br>
<a href="http://naucon.net/misc/fun.htm">Fun Tests Collection</a><br>
<a href="http://www.pressanykey.com/">Press Any Key</a><br><br

"fondent" was my result.

which by the way was spelled wrong... it's fondant.

WTF? fondant?

so bored, i had to look it up. google to the rescue.

Poured Fondant is the traditional topping for petits fours but can be used to glaze cakes, cookies, doughnuts, cookies, brownies, and éclairs. Candy centers can also be dipped, as well. When dry, it gives a shiny, alabaster finish. It is available ready-made or made from a recipe. It can be tinted and/or flavored with small amounts of candy oils. Covering single sized portions, such as Petits Fours are easiest of all. Prior to applying Poured Fondant to a cake, it must be covered in a thin layer of glaze or icing to seal in freshness and moisture and to help it adhere better.

i'm still bored. and now i'm confused too.

9-07-03 10:26pm brick NJ

dreaming again of sex and death. flesh and soul in their separate heavens.

how can i have lived this long feeding on such empty reasons. how can i have loved this much never having known what it is to be loved.

put yourself to bed and sleep to dream of us. if you can. we will meet in dreams to realize the life this world does not allow. think of me and then ask yourself why and how. when you know, come back, explain it to me.

the words were sweetly scented when lust and love were steeped in them. but now i've fallen into myself again. tired and cowardly paragraphs that cannot express. like a flower grown in winter. born dead. miscarriages of the heart bleed love's malformed fetuses.

you're only young once. and for me, that's been done. you've only one life and for me that's one too much.

waiting impatiently for the words to find. just what to say now that i want, but don't think i should. that this heart. this skin is begging for more, but this mind. this circumstance is not oblidging.

how much i'm afraid to trust. to believe anything you've offered. it's easy to say. easier yet to want. but so hard to accept. so hard to believe that it could ever happen. but if it could i guess this would be how. not to keep. not to be had. just a distant thunder. you can't see. you can only feel the rumbling. just a distant storm that pours down upon. other soils. other places. you can't see. you can't absorb. you can feel the vibrations. you can hear the roar. but it's just too far away. it's not really yours.

9-7-03 11pm brick NJ

i write not because i drink too much. that's just a symptom. i write not becuase it's within my means. it's a place in the self that is different from. that bridge where you meet other lives. that rendevous where lives either connect or else say goodbye again.

what can i say. what can i protest. now that life has drawn the curtain and demanded the actors assume their roles. now that the play has been written and we're just reciting the lines. so shakespearean ad tragic. but then again not. isn't this the order that we placed. isn't this the same bed that we've made. that's fine, except that again i sleep in it alone.