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Friday, May 30th, 2008
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5:55 pm - drive-by
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I knew a boy who used to wish to spend nights with me.
But couldnt because he didnt have a car to get to work after, and needed a ride.
Now I know a boy who has a car and drives by my house every night.
He just drives right by.
Funny how quickly things change.
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3:39 pm - whatever.....i give up
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am the day and the night,
I am the apology and the fight,
I am the body and the shadow cast,
I am the slow motion and the vortex-fast,
I am the black and the white,
I am the wrong and the right.
If im having a bad day, let me have it.
If I seem like a "dark person" dont bitch about it, show me some light.
If i have nothing nice to say, act like I said nothing at all.
I know youre capable of it.
Its like Me: " ___________________________"
and thats all you hear, nothin, nada, no how, Im nowhere.
I am the logic and the nonsense,
I am the victory and the loss,
I am the stutter and the blush,
I am the girl that never was good enough.
This has stopped rhyming. Because I stopped believing in the written word.
In words in general, so Im not participating in consistency. Consistency is an illusion. Life is inconsistent. You are inconsistent.
I reward the dog that bit me. Good boy, good boy.
But I know better to complain lol. haha.
I know whos ears are deaf.
I know who views every hardship as a fucking competition.
"You have enemies? good. that means you believed in something"
Im the bitch with the truth,
Im the detective with the proof,
Im the sucker with the gullability
and the capability,
to believe in the words I know, youll never say.
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| Tuesday, May 27th, 2008
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8:07 pm - Tree of Hypocracy
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I know I come last on the list. Hell I know im not even second, third or fourth.
I know its not my couch you pass out on, its not my house you stop by at, its not me.
I know its not me.
As much as Im not ok with it, you force me to be ok with it. But just for the record? it sucks.
And Im at the bottom of this list, written metaphorically on paper derived from another metaphorical image...a tree of hypocracy.
Now I know this has probably gone right over your head. What Im referring to is that you say you want me to come to you when I need help, or when Im upset. But when the tables turned...well...theres the last on the list reference. < insert me here>
A simple courtesy, a small request goes undone, again, again, again, again..so that my mind seems to echo with frustration.
I ask for too much. The things I ask of you are just too difficult.
So I sit under the tree of hypocracy, writing ramblings while the forest aches.
I ask for too much,
yes, too much is practically nothing at all.
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(3 comments | comment on this)
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| Friday, March 28th, 2008
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1:08 pm - I dont care, if you dont care
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See the thing with "i dont care" is that quite often it doesnt mean just that. It means " I care, but it hurts too much to care, so I say I dont to avoid getting hurt" in hopes that by saying the words you can convince yourself of this. Maybe you can?
Sometimes "I dont care" means one person admits defeat. Is defeated, I am defeated therefore I no longer care.
So to avoid this "caring" bullshit, I am taking up many new hobbies. Model trains perhaps?, knitting?, pottery?, target practise? whatever avoids the feeling of feeling too much, and thus making me feel bad for feeling, and then feeling like I should remove said feelings.
My question to you is, are you happy now? did you get what you wanted?
Is it a good thing that I dont care?
Only you can answer that.
But to go back to my opening line: "See the thing with "i dont care" is that quite often it doesnt mean just that." In this case, its true. I got ahead of myself, my silly, silly little self again, polished that bandaged heart and put it back on my sleeve, only to have you sneeze on it. A friendly reminder..of why I should stop caring so much.
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(2 comments | comment on this)
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| Monday, December 10th, 2007
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4:48 pm
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People never mean what they say anymore. and people never say what they mean. everything is shrouded in lies or uncertainty..left cryptic.
its like nobody gives a shit about anything of significance anymore, like everyones just out to get theirs. The words "love" and "forever" and "i promise" should be burned from the dictionary, because afterall, these are words that arent used correctly and their definition is made into a sort of mockery.
I mean one day, you're talking about our one year anniversay, and marraige, and your holding my hand and whispering in my ear that you love me.
The next day, youre bawling your eyes out, im bawling my eyes out, youre telling me that you love me, that you dont want to leave me. But you still do. And on your way out the door is a tear soaked "i love you"..and you still go.
Do people not realize the significance of these words? is nothing worth fighting for anymore? how can you say those things to someone and then throw it all away?? i guess you didnt mean it in the first place, but those words arent jokes. You dont say those things unless youre serious about it. And you must not have been serious because you threw it all away..or you didnt fully understand the things that came with those words....i mean do you break up with people while telling them how much we love them? like what the fuck is wrong with this world?? why do i open myself up to someone only to have them take everything and turn their back on me? time and time again..even when they say theyd never hurt me..they always fucking do.
Nothing is sacred, not words, not meaning, not emotion, not respect, not the future. Not the song that we picked out for our wedding. Not the boy who missed me so so much while away in nfld for a week this summer, not the scrap book of undying love i worked so hard on.
But thats my problem you see, you see i work so hard for the things that matter the most to me..and they always, always fall apart.
And Im left alone, after giving so much..completely empty.. and memories I wish didnt have to be memories..because I thought we would make so many more, that it would just be one big long memory..continuous... it hurts so much. IT HURTS SO FUCKING MUCH to have it all mean NOTHING in the end. People fight for the false, the fake, the quick fix and the denial, the lie. They fight for their right to party, to get wasted, but no one fights for what is right anymore. No one bothers, no one stands by through all hell..because nobody knows what somethings worth until its gone. AND THEN!!! then they still dont bother because they think..."whats the point?" when the whole point is that the things worth fighting for, are the only things that are worth anything.
and thats all i have to say..because i just put on makeup, and the tears are already running down my cheeks.
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| Monday, November 26th, 2007
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8:54 pm - advice for me later
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"but i can suggest not to get too wrapped up in the 'non' happenings of life; don't be a victim in otherwords (not saying that one piece suggests that), but utilize what you see to guide you instead of bearing it as a burden...i've seen what it can do. but i've also seen what seeing the forest for the trees can do for one as well. a date with the sea to me means a date with your future, but water is the one thing that flows ceaslessly, no matter what situation you put it in; from the sounds of it your life isn't flowing like water in the least, but there's an easy solution....become the water, flow without question and the answers will flow. "
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| Tuesday, November 20th, 2007
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5:54 pm - i need you
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I need you to be the strength of widows and soul survivors
I need you to be as fearless as new mothers and new fathers
I need you to be the hope of hearts who lost true love
I need you to be the might of their first kiss
I need a purpose and I need a reason
I need to know that there is a trophy and meaning to all that we lose and all we fight for
To all our loves and our wars , keep breathing, keep living, keep searching, keep pushing on, keep bleeding, keep healing, keep fading, keep shining on, Even when u think u can not ,
this is for the hearts still beating
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(2 comments | comment on this)
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| Saturday, November 10th, 2007
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6:53 pm - wish u were here
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i need you like breath
when i gasp for air and youre not there
i feel like im dying inside
i shake because i cant sleep at night
when i lay in bed its just the beating of my scared heart
that i have to fight
i miss your skin, i miss your arms
i miss your breath, hot, steady
going in and out by my ear
i miss you so much baby
i wish you were here
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(3 comments | comment on this)
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| Friday, November 9th, 2007
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10:23 pm - vices
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Im not one to say that vices are wrong
hell im sure ive got my own.
but when your vice controls you..be it alcohol or drugs or sex
when it determines who you are, when it pulls you away from the person you want to be
well then youre just weak. because you create those vices. you give them life.
and you allow them to play you like a fucking puppet.
so when the going gets tough, run to whats familliar. run to the place that has all the fucking denial you can handle, and when you run your fingers down that cold glass i hope you feel the slight burn of nothingness. I really do. I really hope you get the satisfaction of achieving numbness. GOAL!!
Because yknow..if you feel bad about something there must be a reason for it..but lets just forget about that..lets just forget about it all and then wonder why it doesnt change?
lets run and run and drink drink drink till we dont think no more and then some more till it dont hurt no more..and then in the morning, when its all still the same..on the tip of your tongue is the name
of the person you really let down the most.
but it wont be mine.
it should be your own.
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(2 comments | comment on this)
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| Tuesday, October 30th, 2007
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10:32 pm - "sorry about last night"
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last night i lay wrapped
in your arms and your legs
and tonight
well im sorry about tonight.
now i lie wrapped in a blanket
with scattered holes
on sheets that dont feel so warm anymore
in a bed that doesnt feel like home.
last night i laughed into the eyes
of the one that was the end of me,
the end for me,
the reason that i didnt have to search for answers.
now i play sad songs and stare at a dark ceiling
trying to figure out what it is that im feeling
and the tears fight with tightly closed
eye lids
refusing to budge. refusing. refusing.
maybe i do have a problem letting things go.
maybe i do have a problem accepting.
maybe i am full of fucking problems.
but i didnt come home to find you lifeless
and i didnt have to look upon a face that was never
to smile again
but i could look upon your face tonight
and i could be the reason that you smile
but
i feel as though youve pushed me away
and im counting the street signs, and the miles...
tonight i fight with my lungs for breath
i beg a heart to maintain a beat
i cry in the dark for a hand that could make it
all
better..
last night i lay wrapped
in your arms and your legs
and tonight
well im sorry about tonight.
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(2 comments | comment on this)
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| Sunday, September 9th, 2007
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4:35 pm - as you sleep
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im re writing history
in your echo
while you carelessly sleep
let it go
let it go
like an open palm to a steady breeze
you say i dont make you happy,
your eyes say it to me
when you think im not looking.
the clock says it to me
as you pass the time
with others
yeah im re writing history
in your echo
while you carelessly sleep
and im burying a friend
that almost surpassed the end
tears sliding down my cheeks
tears sliding down my cheeks
as you carelessly sleep
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(2 comments | comment on this)
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| Thursday, August 30th, 2007
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11:09 pm - cant cry hard enough
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for you to hear me now.
no i cant cry hard enough
to raise the rivers
and watch me drown.
but theres no pleasing me you say,
theres no pleasing me.
and i cant cry hard enough
for you to hear me now..
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(2 comments | comment on this)
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| Tuesday, August 21st, 2007
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10:56 am - Dogs and Thunder
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a rifle sits behind her sleeping ear
an echo on the cold wall closest neighbor couldn't hear
we dug a hole in the fall
so now its a frozen burial
and she's gone
just before the new year
well i'm gonna build a cross for the spot between the trees
and stick it in firm so it won't sway in their breeze
well you and i have trouble making up our half-assed minds
but she'd seen 16 years of our kind
and what's it like when your memories start to freeze
oh and i wonder what it is about dogs and thunder
what they hear coming over the fields
backhouse shelter warm nights in the summer
shaking the ground that you lie under
well i know you're not here but at least you don't feel it anymore
and i came to see you on the day that it happened
you said hey sorry sar but i gotta go
and i was trying to read some sorta reaction
it's something you just can't show
so i guess it's time i go
across the snowy barnyard just past the driving shed
a shadow of me in the moon well i was in a movie in my head
this pile of dirt on the ground
will sink when nobody is around
and winter covers everything but everything's not dead
oh and i wonder what it is about dogs and thunder
what they hear coming over the fields
backhouse shelter warm nights in the summer
shaking the ground that you lie under
well i know you're not here but at least you don't feel it anymore
well i know you're not here but at least you don't feel it anymore
well i know you're not here but at least you don't feel it anymore
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(2 comments | comment on this)
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| Thursday, August 16th, 2007
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2:52 pm - pack up your eyes and run away
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pack up your eyes and run away
im sitting staring out a window
watching the rain weave its hyroglyphics
infront of my eyes
going down
the rain is always coming down.
and im never getting the message
smeared on the glass
maybe its my eyes, maybe its my insides
maybe the rain is really just full of acidic lies.
im laying on the sand staring at the surf
and it feels good to not belong, and it feels good
to be on different turf
and im tracing my fingers, over and over
through the tiny grains of time..
and im leaving a promise to someone
i selfishly traded my reason for..
well.. for a catchy rhyme.
however the wind is like a fast teacher
with a chalk board brush,
and im relieved to never have to hold up
my end of that bargain.
Im scattering the scrabble letters
in the same dirty way
you scattered my mind.
Only this time they dont fall into cute little rows
and this time when the evening hits
my smile heads downtown, to the horizon line
where the sun goes.
yes
yes you are
the jerk with the heartache.
and i grew sick of your song
about how
youd been done
so
wrong.
Im watching the water slide down
the glass infront of my face
and like a blind man reading brail for the first time
my fingers
finally found the message.
and i understood.
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(1 comment | comment on this)
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| Wednesday, August 8th, 2007
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1:41 pm - self evident
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"self evident"
yes,
us people are just poems
we're 90% metaphor
with a leanness of meaning
approaching hyper-distillation
and once upon a time
we were moonshine
rushing down the throat of a giraffe
yes, rushing down the long hallway
despite what the p.a. announcement says
yes, rushing down the long stairs
with the whiskey of eternity
fermented and distilled
to eighteen minutes
burning down our throats
down the hall
down the stairs
in a building so tall
that it will always be there
yes, it's part of a pair
there on the bow of noah's ark
the most prestigious couple
just kickin back parked
against a perfectly blue sky
on a morning beatific
in its indian summer breeze
on the day that america
fell to its knees
after strutting around for a century
without saying thank you
or please
and the shock was subsonic
and the smoke was deafening
between the setup and the punch line
cuz we were all on time for work that day
we all boarded that plane for to fly
and then while the fires were raging
we all climbed up on the windowsill
and then we all held hands
and jumped into the sky
and every borough looked up when it heard the first blast
and then every dumb action movie was summarily surpassed
and the exodus uptown by foot and motorcar
looked more like war than anything i've seen so far
so far
so far
so fierce and ingenious
a poetic specter so far gone
that every jackass newscaster was struck dumb and stumbling
over 'oh my god' and 'this is unbelievable' and on and on
and i'll tell you what, while we're at it
you can keep the pentagon
keep the propaganda
keep each and every tv
that's been trying to convince me
to participate
in some prep school punk's plan to perpetuate retribution
perpetuate retribution
even as the blue toxic smoke of our lesson in retribution
is still hanging in the air
and there's ash on our shoes
and there's ash in our hair
and there's a fine silt on every mantle
from hell's kitchen to brooklyn
and the streets are full of stories
sudden twists and near misses
and soon every open bar is crammed to the rafters
with tales of narrowly averted disasters
and the whiskey is flowin
like never before
as all over the country
folks just shake their heads
and pour
so here's a toast to all the folks who live in palestine
afghanistan
iraq
el salvador
here's a toast to the folks living on the pine ridge reservation
under the stone cold gaze of mt. rushmore
here's a toast to all those nurses and doctors
who daily provide women with a choice
who stand down a threat the size of oklahoma city
just to listen to a young woman's voice
here's a toast to all the folks on death row right now
awaiting the executioner's guillotine
who are shackled there with dread and can only escape into their heads
to find peace in the form of a dream
cuz take away our playstations
and we are a third world nation
under the thumb of some blue blood royal son
who stole the oval office and that phony election
i mean
it don't take a weatherman
to look around and see the weather
jeb said he'd deliver florida, folks
and boy did he ever
and we hold these truths to be self evident:
#1 george w. bush is not president
#2 america is not a true democracy
#3 the media is not fooling me
cuz i am a poem heeding hyper-distillation
i've got no room for a lie so verbose
i'm looking out over my whole human family
and i'm raising my glass in a toast
here's to our last drink of fossil fuels
let us vow to get off of this sauce
shoo away the swarms of commuter planes
and find that train ticket we lost
cuz once upon a time the line followed the river
and peeked into all the backyards
and the laundry was waving
the graffiti was teasing us
from brick walls and bridges
we were rolling over ridges
through valleys
under stars
i dream of touring like duke ellington
in my own railroad car
i dream of waiting on the tall blonde wooden benches
in a grand station aglow with grace
and then standing out on the platform
and feeling the air on my face
give back the night its distant whistle
give the darkness back its soul
give the big oil companies the finger finally
and relearn how to rock-n-roll
yes, the lessons are all around us and a change is waiting there
so it's time to pick through the rubble, clean the streets
and clear the air
get our government to pull its big dick out of the sand
of someone else's desert
put it back in its pants
and quit the hypocritical chants of
freedom forever
cuz when one lone phone rang
in two thousand and one
at ten after nine
on nine one one
which is the number we all called
when that lone phone rang right off the wall
right off our desk and down the long hall
down the long stairs
in a building so tall
that the whole world turned
just to watch it fall
and while we're at it
remember the first time around?
the bomb?
the ryder truck?
the parking garage?
the princess that didn't even feel the pea?
remember joking around in our apartment on avenue D?
can you imagine how many paper coffee cups would have to change their design
following a fantastical reversal of the new york skyline?!
it was a joke, of course
it was a joke
at the time
and that was just a few years ago
so let the record show
that the FBI was all over that case
that the plot was obvious and in everybody's face
and scoping that scene
religiously
the CIA
or is it KGB?
committing countless crimes against humanity
with this kind of eventuality
as its excuse
for abuse after expensive abuse
and it didn't have a clue
look, another window to see through
way up here
on the 104th floor
look
another key
another door
10% literal
90% metaphor
3000 some poems disguised as people
on an almost too perfect day
should be more than pawns
in some asshole's passion play
so now it's your job
and it's my job
to make it that way
to make sure they didn't die in vain
sshhhhhh....
baby listen
hear the train?
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(2 comments | comment on this)
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| Monday, July 16th, 2007
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10:09 pm - Dear Kyle
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Youre away in Newfoundland till next Monday. Youre the best boyfriend Ive ever had, and even though you asked me to marry you, the best thing I ever did was say yes to you.
Before you left today, I gave you a scrap book full of photos and quotes and songs and paintings and jokes of us. There was a lot of sweet sentimental stuff in it. The best part, was seeing your face while you flipped through the 30 some pages..and the icing on the cake, was the tear that rolled down your cheek.
You see, you are the only one to ever appreciate the little things I do. The meaningful things. Everyone else took it for granted, with a shrug and a "thanks" but you FELT it.
Everytime you open that book while youre away, you can see just how much I adore you. How much I love you.
You are my beginning, and my end..because there will be no other baby.
You are my heart. Thank you so much for being you..but most of all..thank you for loving me, for me.
Yours Always and Forever
Whitney xoxo
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(1 comment | comment on this)
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4:09 pm - Every Day
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you voice echos in the halls
of my house and my heart,
i once stared into the face of the end
only to embrace a fresh start
theres a thump-thump-thump
that comes baring only hugs,
and a beat-beat-beat that would
never ever hurt me.
I sleep to the sound of your breath
I wake to the blink of your eyes
and every day, is a good day
when Ive got you by my side
"i dont have a book, or a present, or a surprise
for you to look at while Im away"
but I do baby, and its with me every day.
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(1 comment | comment on this)
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| Wednesday, July 11th, 2007
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2:01 pm - Exploitation of animals for entertainment or profit is SICKENING
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| Thursday, July 5th, 2007
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1:59 pm
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"All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another. "
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(2 comments | comment on this)
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| Tuesday, June 19th, 2007
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1:57 pm - This is what
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i dropped letters
like tears fall like rain
like the notes falter from my guitar strings
and i realized how i stopped believing, in a lot of these things.
i scattered the constanants
in hopes they would connect
in hopes they would spell out the silence between the memories i forget.
So i took a chance! and i went out on a limb!
and i bought a few vowels, and stole a few acronyms
and im left with this incoherance
and im left with just me
but atleast im left with something, i can actually believe.
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(2 comments | comment on this)
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