Dark Poetry Prose Poetry September 10, 2004 Dark Poetic Prose

09-10-04 9:29pm friday

kill the drama. euthanize the verse. put it to sleep. it's a terminal illness. it can't be recovered from. life is fraught with neccessities these fragile egos cannot supply.

curving corners in your mind. they make it so difficult to steer these lives.

i feel a fraction of yesterday. a teaspoon of tomorrow. i feel everything in pieces. cause that's how i am.

compound breaths. full with everything there is. high resolution. high brightness. widescreen sadness.

i could ask myself again what's with those conversations. those replies. i could, but why bother. they have their own plans. their own closures i don't fully understand.

thinking one thing and feeling quite the opposite. i have to choose a side. and so i choose my head.

because brains don't break when. and hearts do. because brains are happy alone inside their skulls. but hearts are always looking for some other place to go.

confine the thought in a separate chamber. then, not now. rip the ball from its tether. the pole that spun it has fallen down.

if you ever knew for one minute what alone is. if you do. then you'd still be listening. understanding. and i would be too.

09-10-04 9:54pm friday

endure. roots struggle deeper. i am unmoved, but the sky is ever closer.

i am made. like a wish is. born a thousand times in a single minute. i am there. like thoughts are. constantly changing positions.

i built the house. i made the rooms. i carved the windows. i am. just this. calm apparition above your memory of who i've been. i am not that grave in your heart where you've buried the evidence. i am the body. the corpse you covered under it.

maybe it's worth remembering. since it was worth having lived. that's how i try to think of it now that it's ended.

maybe i hang on. remember much too long. i know i do. such is the heart of the poet. the soul of a friend.

i guess i meant well, but gave you much less. maybe i would've been kinder had i any reason to impress.

endurance. that's all it is. lives that go on long after they've finished being lived. hearts that continue to want despite all the contradictory evidence.

whatever was. whatever has been. i can't worry too much about that now. i can't worry about anytrhing. it doesn't matter tonight. i'm not sure it ever really did.

09-10-04 friday 10:32pm

minutes like bookends hold the hours upright in their lengthy procession. it's not morning, but i'm waking up again. crusty eyes. dry lips. fuzzy vision seduces with all the things that last night dreamt.

i just had to ask. knowing the answer. i had to hear it said. i just had to turn in some other direction. away from here. didn't matter where it headed.

cause time kept right on breathing like lungs that never had to compete with cigarettes and tears. and i just kept on getting older while all those friends disappeared.

it was just a crow's nest. high above the sails. looking at lands this boat may never reach. it's just people. that's all it's ever been. photocopy faces pasted ontop of such old grins. dig into the waves. collect the sand. i was the rudder. you were the anchor. but i can't steer. and you can't stay.

i don't know where i was. that i even was there. i just know what i remember. not much. just your skin against my own. that feeling of not needing anything to be different. just falling asleep so full with. and waking up. waking up still feeling it.