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Sunday, February 10th, 2008
1:56 pm - On Being Placeless
When home is nowhere
home is everywhere

We can't defend the running anymore
and the lies are always
waiting for us
somewhere up ahead.

Missing things we never had
and searching for things we never lost

No faith in friends
to turn up

Nobody sees each other often enough
to be relevant

We play along anyway
Invite strangers to our wedding

and appreciate beloved moments later
when we've already left them
on the other side of the burning embers

I miss the comfort in being judged
being stereotyped
being somewhere they told me was home.

current mood: lonely

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Thursday, February 15th, 2007
6:49 pm - Save me from crazy and I'll take you with me
I haven't left bed all day
or the day before
Did you notice
me dancing in a corner
I know you heard me crying
Did you know it was for nothing?

Eating almonds and Valentine's chocolate
to keep my body shitting
and breathing
but I didn't see the point
in reciting phrases of sentimentality
I'm desperate and lonely
and want someone to notice me
Want something to touch me
shake me
out of this
monotony of virtual ink
I've buried myself in
this asylum
I've trapped myself in

the world's perceptions
of youth and vitality
and nothing remains
to be said
about the fact
that I can no longer say
what needs to be expressed
can no longer face
my shortcomings
I'm full of lies
and burnt out offerings

the ego has burst
and all poets need an ego

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Tuesday, January 23rd, 2007
3:33 am
We're in bed
staring at the stars
Finding only pennies
in our pockets

The days of penny candy
are long gone

somewhere with childhood dreams
and my promiscuous sex life

We wonder if
we can grow up together
let alone grow old forever

Another train vibrates
the floorboards

You're asleep

but I'm only dreaming

current mood: tired

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Monday, May 1st, 2006
11:12 pm - Witch Burning Night
She's screaming into the night
and we
are pushing broken umbrellas up at
raining sparks

as if that could stop
her tumble into the grave
or our own bodies
bleeding out
red currents
of fear, insecurity,
loneliness

how we die
with shit in our pants
and locked-up dreams

how we live
pacing the floors
of our cages

current mood: enthralled

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Saturday, April 8th, 2006
11:26 pm
Make a MEANING

not just pretty words

strewn on a page

like petals from a flowergirls'
chubby fingers

current mood: exanimate

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11:20 pm - Girl in Cardigan
He watched a girl in a cardigan
sit in a corner
and plot his demise
in a poem

It's true.
This girl in the corner
has nothing but contempt
for men who turn down
complimentary salad with
their sandwiches
and wear their sunglasses on their
foreheads

The girl in the cardigan
was gnawing her pen
as if it would suddenly
burst and flow forth
with the elixir of life

and she did so
with such conviction
that he began to believe

maybe it would

current mood: contemplative

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Tuesday, March 21st, 2006
11:21 pm
Our scars
our shoes
the things we like in bed

We live with ghosts

current mood: contemplative

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Saturday, November 12th, 2005
9:53 pm - Why are all poems about her so cheesy?
Adrienn lies
by moonlit blue lagoons

cloaked in white
she never liked

And now we know
death doesn't come
when we're finished with life

She had plans

but now we are left
to live them

give them breath

until I meet her in Budapest

current mood: sad

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9:50 pm
I know I'll see you again

But the months stretch out

like a long, empty highway
with plenty of roadside attractions, I can enjoy only with heavy heart

Is this what home is?

Greece whispers

promises
she could never keep

but I buy them anyway
and pop them in my mouth one after the other

I could never deny you, my love.

Is this what home is?

Something to miss when you're away,
but to feel unwelcome
when actually there.

Greece whispers

Is this what home is?

current mood: homesick?

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9:47 pm - Setback
Make your own choices


There is no choice to make


Every setback follows
like another link in the chain


You can't see what's coming

but you're climbing just the same
and blaming fate as you do it

Mornings woken

with head in hands

the way you feel when you see your crush
touching fingers
with someone else

Where the hell do pants go
in whisper dark rooms?

Where the hell do plans go
when stuck in random cities
with random people?


Fate's a lovely excuse
for stupid decisions

current mood: nauseated

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Thursday, November 10th, 2005
9:44 pm - arrival
sky deep blue to light blue
over grey

the taxi leaves, tires
squealing on wet cobblestones

As we walk,
morning opens over L'viv
like flowers blooming between
cracks
in the sidewalk

glimpses of color poke out
between grey churches, blue green steeples

Lawrence Durrell's "rosy-fingered dawn" if you will

Chris kneels to pluck a blossom
out of its nest

offers it to an old woman passing by

she doesn't notice

keeps walking

shopping bag knocking against her legs

in rhythm

current mood: drained

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Saturday, October 22nd, 2005
9:43 pm
the people who you've met
in three different cities

and you don't remember their names

but you remember where they're from

who they hooked up with

and which bunk they crashed in

current mood: blah

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Friday, October 21st, 2005
9:40 pm
She had a ridiculously
gorgeous body


that's now rotting in a casket


in a military cemetery in Virginia

with plain white headstones

I don't even know if she
believed in war

But she fell anyway

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Wednesday, September 21st, 2005
9:38 pm - the way her soft snoring has come to mean something like home to me
Peeking out at you
from under
heavy, crusty eyelashes,

every morning

grumbling at you to
hit the snooze
button

We'd smile
and happily get lost
in these cities
through each other

I miss the way
you'd pick up the things
I'd drop

the way we'd run laughing through dark alleys

the way your soft snoring
meant something like home to me

current music: Belle & Sebastian "Seeing Other People"

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Tuesday, September 20th, 2005
9:37 pm
Not sure what we're crying for

each other

or the realization

that we've chosen these circumstances

for a reason
and

we are fated to repeat them again

with other people

"Why didn't you get off the plane?"
he asked.

Why didn't he get on it?

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9:35 pm - fucking freegans
I'm sick of watching the mediocre minds
of my generation
fill their heads with fluff
and enter the system
two by two
(individual acts not allowed)

Youth
under
pressure to
perform
inside
exile

We take selfishness
to new extremes
live in the delusional reality
of pretending to be

outside

the prison walls

while using those trapped within to support
our "free" existences

current mood: irritated
current music: music is a luxury

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Tuesday, July 26th, 2005
12:38 pm
Catapult me
into the sun.

Go rest your head.

I'm tired of this
she said.

I'm tired of this
I'm tired of dreaming.

Places exist
only in your head.


Watch our sofa
rise into the sky.

Consume us in flames.

But we're making out.
We're just dreaming.

Places exist
only in our heads.

Untie me.

It's been a long night
in your bed.

I'm tired of this.

I'm tired of dreaming.


I think you know
that I think of you

every night

crawling into bed
with your friend.

I can't stop
pretending it's you.


Did you know
I can't wait for you?

Every night
as I battle off to sleep,

I'm scheming;
I'm dreaming.

Places exist
only in my head.

current mood: contemplative

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12:37 pm
Like most placeless men,
she worshipped place

sank into the valleys
just as she would rest her
head on the soft side of his stomach
just before the swell of his hips.

I wandered him empty,

arose with armfuls of wheat,

screamed at the sun.

Morning screamed back

the old mass delusions.

current mood: pensive

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12:29 pm - A conglomeration of memories--some real, some imagined, some my own, some belong to others.
And he drives

everywhere

on a quest to...

find her in a dark corner
absent-mindedly scratching
her mosquito-bitten ankle

She went running yesterday
to the base of the mountain,
but no further.
She ran back in time

to see him pull a cap on his head,
swing his duffel over
his shoulder,
and board the January boat

after watching her
sip espresso
witha girl he used to know.

She thought about spring,
and how he used to sit,
hunched over a laptop
writing about

how the breeze from the subway
moved her hair and made
her skirt flutter at the hem;

the way she retreated after sex
to sitting with her knees drawn up,
notebook resting on her lap
scratching memories

of him
rolling cigarttes while peeking
through stray curls of soft brown

watching her collarbone
move
with her breathing

which always sped up
when his hand
accidentally brushed her arm
or his gaze rested on her a moment longer than necessary
or he hugged her goodbye

on his way home
to dream about the
way her short dyed-red hair
glinted in the firelight,
the way her eyes reflected the flames

the way he would light candles
because he thought they were sexy

but she just wanted to fuck
and shiver
when his hands grazed her
stomach stretched out
before him.

He asked her how she felt about falling in love.

She replied, "I try not to make a habit of it."

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12:24 pm
Yellow light glints off the water
Adrienn floats in
her face morphing from baby
to woman
adolescent to child

I don't know what I'm holding
or why I'm spinning around

My kisses on her cheeks sink in
like footsteps
before evaporating
into the blue vacancy

Sand stings my eyes

She giggles
yet I feel like I'm molesting her

don't want to drop her

don't know how to dream
her longer

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