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| Saturday, October 11th, 2003 |
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| I wonder about the trees. Why do we wish to bear Forever the noise of these More than another noise So close to our dwelling place? We suffer them by the day Till we lose all measure of pace, And fixity in our joys, And acquire a listening air. They are that that talks of going But never gets away; And that talks no less for knowing, As it grows wiser and older, That now it means to stay. My feet tug at the floor And my head sways to my shoulder Sometimes when I watch trees sway, From the window or the door. I shall set forth for somewhere, I shall make the reckless choice Some day when they are in voice And tossing so as to scare The white clouds over them on. I shall have less to say, But I shall be gone. | ||||||||
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| This present tragedy will eventually turn into myth, and in the mist of that later telling the bell tolling now will be a symbol, or, at least, a sign of something long since lost. This will be another one of those loose changes, the rearrangement of hearts, just parts of old lives patched together, gathered into a dim constellation, small consolation. Look, we will say, you can almost see the outline there: her fingertips touching his, the faint fusion of two bodies breaking into light. from Poetry magazine Volume CLXXVI, Number 4, July 2000 Copyright 2000 by The Modern Poetry Association. All rights reserved. | ||||||||
| Monday, October 6th, 2003 |
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| A List of Books You Should Read. 1. Watership Down- Richard Adams 2. Alice's Adventure in Wonderland / Alice Through the Looking Glass- Lewis Carrol 3. A Series of Unfortunate Events ( Books 1-10 )- Lemony Snicket 4. The Spiderwick Chronicles ( Books 1-5 )- Tony DiTerlizzi and Holly Black 5. Harry Potter ( Books 1-5 )- J.K. Rowling | ||||||||
| Friday, May 30th, 2003 |
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| Your bliss is too excitable, It’s winter here They’ve propped my head with linen To see the snow-covered angels parade the town In overcoats It’s bitter and vile, but, in their eyes, I’m stone Cracked from the chill Subzero My eyes are fixated On the frost on the windowsill You stand vicious in the kitchen With your Christmas disaster Perhaps I’m filled with ‘Jew’ I’ve been wearing this fragrance for decades, now And the scent has you lying face down on the floor Like an string-less puppeteer On a mid-summer carnival Or picnic in the park These walls are getting warmer You excite me – disappear The elation fills my sorrow like a booming noise And your pleasure is all too accessible. But I still drown in my own salt water. It's easier to lay your head on the sand. | ||||||||
| 1 cares !!!! | |
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| Breathe in for luck, Breathe in so deep, This air is blessed you share with me. This night is wild, so calm and dull These hearts they race from self control. Your legs are smooth as they graze mine We're doing fine, we're doing nothing at all. My hopes are so high that your kiss might kill me. So won't you kill me, so I die happy. My heart is yours to fill or burst To break or bury, or wear as jewelery, Whichever you prefer. The words are hushed Let's not get busted, Just lay entwined, here undiscovered. Safe from the earth and all the stupid questions.. "Hey did you get some?" Man, that is so dumb. Stay quiet, stay near, stay close They can't hear, so we can get some. Hands down this is the best day I can ever remember, I'll always remember the sound of the stereo, The dim of the soft lights, The scent of your hair that you twirled in your fingers and The time on the clock when we realized It's so late and the walk that we shared together. The street was wet and the gate was locked So, I jumped it and let you in And you stood at the door With your hands on my waist And you kissed me, but you meant it And I knew that you meant it, That you meant it. | ||||||||
| Wednesday, May 28th, 2003 |
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| AROUSAL OF THE CLOCK Our final tear is a heaving salt, The raping of my heart, I rebuild now from the giggling fault- that has torn the core of flesh apart. Suffer in the secrecy of a black dove? Soft, with cheery arms I walk a plank, My death, menacing maelstrom above, Where left is hell, and right is rank. Time is aroused in the end, Once loathed with bitter contempt It is now a guiding light in brand, Solitudes grief in a void made rent. Yea! my only happiness fried! The scar will last until dying day sought, Sobbing violently makes me purified, For the waning love; I know is not bought. Uttered words are arid and red, My horridly brief light is all I clasp, Flinging it aside with stained eyes dead, Never will I remorse the “here” we don’t amass. Sixth, an ode to the drowning of malnutrition, Although always my screaming chest will seek, Glory and love, my wanton satisfaction, Halt and adieu to the venom, you are my beloved peak. -C.D.C. | ||||||||
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| Do you ever see in your dreams? Do you ever wonder why? O, tell me why .. Do we build castles in the sky? O, tell me why !! | ||||||||
| Tuesday, May 27th, 2003 |
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| Annabel Lee It was many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom you may know By the name of ANNABEL LEE; And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me. I was a child and she was a child, In this kingdom by the sea; But we loved with a love that was more than love- I and my Annabel Lee; With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven Coveted her and me. And this was the reason that, long ago, In this kingdom by the sea, A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling My beautiful Annabel Lee; So that her highborn kinsman came And bore her away from me, To shut her up in a sepulchre In this kingdom by the sea. The angels, not half so happy in heaven, Went envying her and me- Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know, In this kingdom by the sea) That the wind came out of the cloud by night, Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee. But our love it was stronger by far than the love Of those who were older than we- Of many far wiser than we- And neither the angels in heaven above, Nor the demons down under the sea, Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful Annabel Lee. For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride, In the sepulchre there by the sea, In her tomb by the sounding sea. | ||||||||
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| The gray grass is scarce dappled with the snow; Its two banks have not shut upon the river; But it is long ago-- It seems forever-- Since first I saw thee glance, With all thy dazzling other ones, In airy dalliance, Precipitate in love, Tossed, tangled, whirled and whirled above, Like a limp rose-wreath in a fairy dance. | ||||||||
| 1 cares !!!! | |
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| Stars How countlessly they congregate O'er our tumultuous snow, Which flows in shapes as tall as trees When wintry winds do blow!-- As if with keeness for our fate, Our faltering few steps on To white rest, and a place of rest Invisible at dawn,-- And yet with neither love nor hate, Those stars like some snow-white Minerva's snow-white marble eyes Without the gift of sight. | ||||||||
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Wow! Here is my new journal! Care Bears are so cool. Hey, I'm a guy and care bears pwn you!!! Yea, anyhow. Just want to get this off my chest. People say I am feminine and girly because of the things I like. I fnd that bullshit. 100% bullshit. Because a guy likes the colour pink, does not make him any less of a man than a man who likes black. People put a gender on everything and it is ridiculous. If a man acts feminine or acts like a girl then, yea. He is feminine. But because he collects Barbies? That man will be rich! Are you stupid? It is sickening. I like football and Care Bears. I like pastel colours. BIG DEAL. Probably have a bigger cock anyhow. :) But that's not the point. I might make this journal a poem archive. I simply love poetry. I also might add some literary work in here as well!  See what Care Bear you are. | ||||||||
indescribable.
complacent.
cheerful.
tired.
giddy.
jubilant.
drained.
creative.
annoyed.