Fragment #4

I linger here in chaos
in darkness
with bits of scattered light
here and there
to remind me of what I am shown
of human nature.

circa 04

Fragment #3

"denial"

this is not my bleeding heart
on the floor
this is not my soul stabbed
in the back
this is not my broken love
cracked and tarnished
this is not my shattered self image
this is better living
through denial.

circa 04

Fragment #2

circa 03

i write on the bottom of my shoes to forget
the names of people and places
that i had to walk away from.

Fragment #1

Slipping slowly
Darkness gaining
Life Ebbing
Light draining

The end is near
Come closer to see
If you have the will
You soon will be free


circa 05

questioning everything

circa 2002

i want to know why it's okay
to hurt people so
to stab them in the back
lie, cheat, steal
shun what you don't really know.

i know it's not okay
no matter what answer is presented in front of me.

i want to know why
we hate based on creed
race, organization, nationality
hate what bleeds the same color as you or me.

i know it's a bunch of shit,
underneath everyone looks like me.

i want to know why
god doesn't see his people in agony
the love they have for him
that they think will buy eternity

i know i should believe
but i'll believe when i see
he loves me
until then i question everything.

Girl

circa 2002

I see you there girl
weeping in the dark
why do you mourn I ask
She clutches at her chest
I think of me
I have been there I reply
Tears roll from eyes that never cease
I look at my feet
what do I say
Tell her everything will be okay
That everything is alright
fingers that now seem to weep
clutch at eyes that don't sleep.
She stands there in a haze, a maze
she's a basket case from
what I can see.
She makes no sense to me.
I turn out the light so I can no longer see
Me standing there
looking back at Me.
I am that girl I see.
That basket case weeping is me.

Breakdown

circa 2002

i keep searching my soul for a glimmer of beauty or hope.
i keep searching my face for a hope of seeing a smile of confidence.
None of these things are there
no glimmer of beauty or hope
i find no confidence, no smile, no happiness
i search my heart to find a reason why
i feel so betrayed.
i search my body for a little strength to pull me through.
i find None, no strength, no reason to feel betrayed.
pleasant in my breakdown
this is all in my head
my soul is not hurt, my heart is no bleeding.
i have all the strength i need, all the beauty instilled at birth
and i am happy and confident
at least i think.

Untitled

circa 03

When confronted with fear why do we run?
why do we hide?
will we find salvation in each stride we take?
each breath that escapes.
Does it help? Can it save?

Stop this crazy ride I want to get off!
Back on the bus to sanity I must ride.
How much does a ticket cost?
will this change I feel inside pay my ride?

Love is what makes the world go round and round...
but laugher is what keeps us from getting dizzy or
is that ditsy?

Into each family a little dysfunction must fall.
I must have fell from the family tree.
That little dysfunction resides in me
or is it in everyone else.

It's the people who think that they
are sane that are really insane?
So if I believe that I'm completely crazy that
makes me completely okay?

And normality is, morality is society? Who defines normal?
Isn't that a dish washing cycle?
The flow chart never ends...

When your going through hell keep going
as opposed to stopping where?
In life there are no directions only
certain specifications too simple to defy...
Breathe, live and die.

sweet narcissism

7/27/03


flush to the wall
hugged against the mirror
hopping to love myself
a little more.

sweet narcissism
call me my own sweet
dear to me my made reflection
although these are not my own feet.

filled with insincerity
thank you vanity
i applaud your efforts
as i pray you will make me whole.

celebrity psychology
has me thinking that my next fixing
of my imperfections
will make me a star.

red carpet material
velvet and sweet
hugged against the mirror
this i will never see.

Shades of grey

circa 2003


i meet people everyday who are seemingly
nice. they are the people who will stab
you in the front. tell half truths to
conserve and save feelings from whatever outcome. take you where you want to go, as long as it’s down. act like the cliches that they are. show their true colors.
shades of grey.

i have days where god is M.I.A. he doesn’t see the people, crying in the streets. for whatever that is lost. he ignores them, sips his coffee. what pon does he choose to move next in this eternal chess game on earth. wonders what color to paint the sky, reaches for his box of crayons.
shades of grey.

i look at the world some days, wonder what the hell are we here for. do we have purpose? meaning? i wonder what tomorrow will be like. will there be a tomorrow? i think of things that haven’t been. things that have. i’m not amused either way.
things always seem to be,
shades of grey.

i look inside me. i find an un-emptiness. i find a heart, beating for whatever. love. humanity. i see my mind. things boxed and labeled. something hidden, others upfront, other things that seem hazy lost in the blueish , blackish, purplish muck of what? reality. insanity.
shades of grey.
i see this, i look up. i reflect what i see in me.
i see art, in everything. visible, invisible.
tangible, intangible.
believable, unbelievable.
sane, insane.
now nothing is
shades of grey.

Redundancy

circa 03

My words seem very redundant
They are all caught up in my throat

I keep asking the same question
that never gets an answer

Does anybody see me here?
Can anyone hear my screams?

My cries of pain and anguish
fall upon deaf ears

My words are soft but with
rough intent

I express myself with the loudest voice
possible with merely a crayon of white

No black on white
white on black

Nothing is clear to me
everything is white on white

and seems misshapen and
disheveled to me

My words are very redundant
they are all caught up in my throat

Peek a Boo

circa 03

Peek a Boo
Can you see me?
I am here in front of you.
Look if you dare.

I bite my tongue
I see that it is rusted
From holding back the salt of
Apathy and Sarcasm.

Depressed as hell
I’m not sleeping well
I’m hiding from societal Hitler’s that tell me
If you’re not me your wrong

I dare you to see me
But you can’t
Ignorance is blissful when you
Can’t fathom an meaningful
Existence besides your own.

Where can I go from here?
If my only escape is
Downward in spirals of feelings that
Are lacking Human compassion.

Where can I hide?
When the only safe place is my head
In my arms and the only shield I can
Find is my tears.

Who can I trust?
When the world goes crazy
And leaves me here to die
To fend for myself and live the
Lie they have created.

In my prison I can hide
Away from you.
Can you see me?
I look out at you
I see what you do.
Peek a boo

heartbreaker

circa 2003


i want to break a heart, it doesn't have to be yours.
i just want to know how it feels, must feel great or else people wouldn't do it.
they'd just hold you in their heart forever, you'd feel safe there.
not insecure like you are out here, on your own, all alone, no one to call your own.
looking in, looking back, tracing your steps trying to figure out where it all went wrong.
where you fucked up, where you fell from
why didn't you get up?

ask me again, maybe i'll have answer next time
but for now i'll say, i didn't have the strength
i'll say i needed you hand, i needed it to stand, my legs couldn't hold me alone.
i needed someone to call my own and you were there so i thought you would care
but instead you paid my fare.
a one way ticket to the heart break hotel.
wrote a check, checked out.
i felt cheated.

i want to break a heart, it could be yours, i wouldn't care.
it would feel good to get pay back.
revenge tastes sweet, after earning it stab by stab,
by stab.
my heart no longer bleeds, it just stares at me, asks me why
i let you make me die, on the inside, make me lonely
make me hate you.

i have no answer for my heart
i can only tell it that i cared, that's all i can say
does it understand that the mind can play tricks.
cruel, unusual heart crimes
makes you think they love you back,
until they stab you in the back.

i want to break a heart.
rip it apart,
be cruel, ruthless and cold.
see how high it gets me.
see how i feel inside
will i feel better, worse? powerful?
maybe i'll feel like you
thinking that makes me ill but, i have to do it.
taste the bittersweet, tell someone that i do not prefer their company,
that i'd rather be alone.

i want to break a heart.
it has to be yours,
payback is a bitch.

Forgotten

circa 03

I do not want to be forgotten
I'd rather be hatefully remembered.
for the times I made people see the truth
or seek it out.
For the the times I said what I was thinking
and for the times that I didn't.

Desolate

circa 2003

Desolate walls
blank emotionless hearts
we find ourselves before our soul
bowing before the might of character
lacking existence
lacking breath of life

we have little to give since
we cannot afford to give of ourselves
for even that is borrowed
we don't think for ourselves
leaving our minds to rot in conformity
nothing we can do but wait

wait for freedom
freedom perhaps comes in dreams
and dream we know come with sleep
the deliverance of sleep comes from
the sandman and if he could only
visit me now I could be a little bit freed
and not staid on the fact that
I am living in an exhausted era with
nothing to look forward to and
nothing to look up to

alone I am standing amongst
soulless, breathless droids of inner humans
controlled by a manifest destiny
from which they can not hope to escape.

Ataris Tribe

circa 03


in the words of the immortal Ataris
"i guess i'm giving up on love"
cause i can't seem to find the one
that i am looking for.
"love is overrated"
i gotta find the one that i'm missing so
i cry every night
"i pull the blinds and dream of you"
you that i can't find you that mystify
"you said the four word galaxy"
so i look for you among the stars
"wishing on the same one as you too"
i hope and pray
"hearts ripped in two"
i can't find you, your lost, your gone
i gotta find the one
that's suppose to love me too
"in the silence between saying i love you"
somewhere i lost you there in
untrue hearts and i find myself singing
"life ain't all that bad"
when what i really feel is
"i'm alive what can i say"
and so i scream
"i'm alive what can i say, i'm really happy"
"and sometimes i wonder about that too"
this is my "angry nerd rock"
an anthem of destruction,
a mentally disfiguring "mix tape" of emotions.

Stress

circa 2000

stress is when you wake up screaming and realize that you haven't left consciousness yet.
stress is something that you can feel in your body, in every part tense, taunt and high key.

i don't suffer from stress, i'm merely a carrier
some one has to be the prime example

they say signs of stress are drinking too much caffeine, driving to fast, smoking too much and impulse buying.
that's my idea of a perfect day

i'm really not sure if I could live without stress, it's the driving force in my life
so don't tell me to relax cause i'll slack off

put too much on my plate pile it high and fat
and watch me take it on with a flying bound

this is me
coffee is my significant other,
my lover is merely there to fill my cup a little more

so top me off and watch me spin and teeter cause
stress is my life
and million other things i'd write
if i had the time

Nameless

circa 00

Though I change the rhythm
it is within me you celebrate
poetry the sacred dance of a marble haunt
listen and surrounds my broken corduroy heart

fly as air
joy presently dazzled
we drink of wild cups
the candy kiss breath of a champagne god.

may who life devours
poisoned
yet brilliant
and perhaps naked.

a porcelain prisoner perfumed with translucent desire
a warm blush magic voice
Blazes the velvet circle and embraces me in fire

Eternity once could only linger upon a steam ghostly window.
Star too hot yet too cold to remember that whispers
"pick yesterday but live after coffee today"

Myself

circa 2000
published in the Spokesman Review (a local newspaper Spokane, Washington)
on June 7th 2001

saved from the circular file to the left of my desk.
feelings on paper my has pressed.

in these pages i have found myself.

saved from the great idea bank of the world that is
my dream.
Stolen from the fire of passion that burns.

saved from the circular file to the left of my desk.
feelings and poems my pen has pressed.

between these pages and among these shelves,
i again have found myself.

unsaid

circa 01


a gentle breeze blows through my soul
the hopes and fears through endless years
appear right before me
imbedded in mounds of thought

buried beneath the painful stings
the painful burns of unsaid words.

a target of hope is set aside for a shot of
ambition that will never come
a spark, a thought, an idea shunned away
for none to see.

imagination buried forever unseen
a dark kept secret in a black box
walled up in your thoughts
a burning secret
an extinguished flame
forever in unsaid things.

No Name

post 9/11/2001

to cold are these walls and floors
that i seek my salvation in.
to cling to a constant force of downward propulsion
heat of compassion shall not find refuge here.

to vague are these realities that seem fantasies
that make those who are gifted spin tapestries
of half truths that will mask the ugliness of what we truly hide.

and confidence nows lays down to die of broken self esteem
distorted by chaos and magnified by the order
that once made it thrive.

to lost are we now a new day has dawned
but not yet lit by the hope or comprehension
we cower in fear of what is sleeping near the horizon.

scared and scarred
we hide, victims of internal homicide
they killed our spirits
but couldn't take our pride

and yet onward we march
through time and space
meaningless existence no longer known
we fight the good fight as we mourn

we weep and lose sleep over causalities of stupidity
and people who think that their road to god
will be paved with gold for making us fold.

and to them let this be known
revenge is something you can sweeten to taste
and we will not make haste to do our bidding

together we stand
united we fight
to make all things right
in the place we call home.

ground nothing

circa 01

I can't find myself in my head
in my thoughts
in my mind.
I'm drowning in apathy
and sinking in sadness.
How do I get back to ground zero?
back to where I started
with belief in God and no worries on Earth.
Praying for sins not yet committed
and forgiveness for disbelief.
With peace in my heart
and love in my hands
and an understanding of human nature.
Ground Zero
serene and peaceful here in sanity.
good mental health.

LOSING CABIN PRESSURE
back to ground nothing
Back to drowning in the apathy
that saturates the air.
Back to sinking in the sands of sadness.
Back to losing myself
in a closet
in my head
in my thoughts
in my mind
back to ground nothing.

Bonfire

circa 01
written during the NBF summer writing camp @ Simon's rock college in MA.

to the fire we fed
all of our worries and burdens
in no words
tongues of languages only spoken
in your soul
all pain gone
the primitive music alleviated the heaviness
in our hearts
our souls again seemed free
the night we fed our worries and burdens
to the fire
beats set the pace for movement
for release of anger
depression, lust and
love lost.
all emotions that we couldn't hold inside anymore
to the fire we fed
and the fire fed it to the sky
and the sky held it fast
our souls again pure
no raging in the cage
of our bodies and souls
songs we didn't know
but made up in our souls
as the beat went on
we all contributed to the energy
we all did our part
the night we fed our worries and burdens
to the fire.

blue lights

circa 01

blue lights on the runway
jesus how long have I been here?
2 hours
3 hours
4 maybe more

light when I arrived
but nows it dark with delays,
fucking planes.

blue lights on the runway
means I'm on my way home.
after hours of anticipation
and a handful of poems containing alliteration
I'm finally leaving this hell of
gift shops, Starbuck's and Cinnabon's.

blue lights on the runway
means I'm on my way home.

sure hope someone's there
to pick me up.

Brother Davidian

02/2007

Welcome to mount Carmel
come lay yourselves down.
This church will become your home
Brother

David Koresh,
named for your last dying breath
and King David of-course.
You rock star bohemian
preach on
Brother

Welcome to Waco.
Give me your wives,
for we are all married to the Lord
not each-other
Brother

Oh now how the bullets are flying
and we'll send our children out in twos
oh Brother
What shall we do?

51 days of hell on earth
we have now all passed.
This was your book of revelations,
your apocalypse
Brother.

drunken schizophrenic mourning

2007

me, myself, I and denial
sitting here alone.
soon I know my friends
lonely, depressed and unreconstructed
will be joining me soon

one more shot please
never-mind just leave the bottle
I have no where to go tonight

and I know why we sit here alone
together night after night
you're gone
disappeared into the darkness
that surrounded you

bar keep another round please
the drinks are on me tonight
I'll drink until we forget

in the end me, myself and I will be
" oh pity me "
denial will say you never left
lonely will keep the feeling blue
and depressed will remind me
there is nothing I can do

but unreconstructed
to loud for this crowd
will protest our despair
and remind us all that
once gained is never lost.

Alice

circa 2004

am i that plain jane?
that self serving loathing sense of irony
that visits you nightly, to tuck you in.

like a warm liquid magma blanket
free from redemption
a thousand thread count by martha Stewart's hand
that is if she wasn’t stamping license plates.

so call me alice
and the cat will keep reminding me
i wouldn’t have come here if i wasn’t mad.

tumble down, fumble down
buttons on my jacket
so i can be comfortable in the mess
i have created for myself
to bad
could have made something beautiful.

so where do i stand?
never-land, wonderland
never wonder and just be land

and for normalcy i strive
but why?
i always felt that normal
was a washing machine cycle.
one that allots a lot of fabric softener.

fairy tale

circa 04

i want to believe in a fairy tale, that my prince will come for me.
sweep me off my feet, tell me that he loves only me.
take to his castle in the sky, way up high, until i die.
i'd be in his arms and he's only reside in mine.
he'd tell the truth, he'd never lie.
take a stand for whatever is right.
die for me, save me from myself, save me from everyone else.
feeds me with constant love, fill me with joy, never depart, always hold my heart.
never go away, always stay. nearer to me, closer than close.
this is my fairy tale. i want a happy ending but it seems every time
i believe this i get seriously fucked.
my prince leaves me home to rot, never keeps me near his heart.
near his wallet and then we part.
loves me obligation, he lies cheats and steals.
slithers around like an eel.
makes me feel rejected, damns me for being me and seeks others company.
escapes to higher ground only to fall rock hard in a slump the next day.
he cowers from what is right because it makes him seem okay.
fills me with grief and then swears to the deceased that he loves only me.
when will i learn that fairy tales do not exist, that i'm getting pimped.
when will i see that my prince charming is the pea beneath my sheets,
permanently annoying me.
when will i learn that prince charming is a dick and that my only solution
is to kiss a few more frogs. hopefully if i kiss a few more my luck will change.
anything to get out of this.
how i long to be me, on my own i'd be free but i'm stuck here in the fantasy
that if i only stay a little longer he'll change.
i can make it one more day. maybe tomorrow will be different than yesterday.
maybe if i pray everything will be okay.
everything's okay.

Jabberwocky

circa 04


everything is distorted and wrong
no matter where i run
the jabberwocky is at my back
he stares at me though steel eye lids
and i feel myself bending to his will.
and he digs his claws into me
and a bleed. i bleed for him.
i don't know why i let him hurt me
but i can't shake the jabberwocky from my back
for fear that he may some day raise steel lids
and look upon me with shame
and then i would fall to my knee's
before my weakness
and weep for what i have lost.

No Name SI

slice silver sharps shock
enough with the alliteration
I'll call it comfort.
I don't want to die
I want to bleed
let all these things run out of me
If I could only crack open my chest
to tear out this horrible heart I would
but I don't have the strength

cut cover carry continue
to make scars on my hide
little marks to remind me
I've been doing this for almost ten years
I've had enough ther-rape-me to cure Ms. Carey
but I'm not any better.

distraction drugs defiance death
these won't help
so I'll make myself a tiger.
a beast that can take a blow and keep running
be king of my jungle
have control of my life.


<...! I was thinking of calling this 'self made tiger' but I don't know !...>