Monday, December 28, 2009
Saturday, December 19, 2009
I'll spin you a story, something so devastatingly beautiful, you'll have to know my name. It'll be sensational. I'll tell you a story of every man I have loved, whose name starts with every letter in your head right now. It's everything you already know, everything inside your heart, but nothing ever said out loud. I don't talk of love, or my lovers. This is not a love story, nor is it about you. It's my life, and yours, and you won't be able to break away. This is so you will remember me every time you live the story, or every time you dream about it. It is comical, fantastical, tragic and sensual. Particularly sensual. it's every feeling between happy and sad. You'll see. You'll want to know my name, because I made you aware. It'll haunt you one day, this story of mine.
Friday, December 11, 2009
A minute goes by, and every silent move is a supersonic reality. He pulls back his hair, and it sounds like a sigh. A scratch, and a tap of the foot, added to something being dragged across the floor combines with the sound of my eardrums throbbing. It makes a symphony of mess in my head. It's the map I leave for you, in times like this, when I am not making sense.
I am trying to say I need myself to think so I can finally piece together what I've been feeling for the past 3 odd months coherently. But I can't. And I can't write anything, although so much has happened that I would like you to know about. I've started to rely far too much on what songs can say for me, instead of actually writing. You know, I'm just being lazy.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Friday, September 11, 2009
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Friday, August 14, 2009
Friday, August 7, 2009
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Friday, June 26, 2009
Saturday, June 6, 2009
The first note hits and it's Revolution all the while it is sustained. The next and it's Resistance and the song melts into a liquid mellowdrone that is Acceptance and Relief. The music merges so that it is our Pen and Ink world…the song resurfaces, Twists and Shouts, and is Yearning, Pain and Desire simultaneously. Just when you are fooled into believing the cadence must mean it is her swan song, it erupts into Promise, orchestrating into your heart Desolation and Abandonment.
"You always disappear," she accuses.
And the music just weighs them down into its cornucopia of Feeling, while voices like oh-so-many melodies whisper, "we will not let them hurt you," over and over again, until they have you completely.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
The blush creeps up
apologetically, burning, blooming,
Like the bruises on her back
Like the red heart of her pout
Like her rose-coloured world.
I will only stay
juste milieu, bending, breaking
bowing, sighing, swaying,
Hearing strains of his powerchord chortle
Feeling my way through the ebb and flow
Looking through my rose-coloured world.
I am yearning
comme ci, comme ça, begging, blushing -
believing, breathing, surreptitiously seeking, searing
Hearing strains of his powerchord chortle,
in my rose-coloured world.
Feeling my way through the ebb and flow,
of his powerchord chortle.
Looking through my rose-coloured world,
yearning, entreating, bowing, breaking, swaying, sighing.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Throw your head back. Supplicate. Tug on that dream, ease that itch. Bite that thought, stroke her brain. Sink that slough.
Wait, you've got to get that mood music, man
Cut that quest. Climb out that cesspool. Drop that gun, tread on your tight-rope switchblade - up, down, slash, stem. Dig your ditch. She is your tool. You will use her. She is your tool. You will own her.
Hey, don't forget that mood music, man
Stroke her oxygen. Touch that nightmare. String in the stars. Mirror my malady. Thrum my sorrow. Soak it out, squeeze her heart. Ease out the objectivity, you are jingoistic. She is your tantra, and you are only her anthem. Shed your thick skins, she only wears you. You are vociferous only because she is your tongue.
Listen, now, it's only your mood music, man
Cut that clamour, it won't bring anything back. You are here, you can be no better. Kill the ideology, hold on to that thought. You're tuning in and out, how is she to catch you?
Hey, it's only your feel-good music, man
Lose sight. Fall in. Your certainties are only fallible delusions. You can only turn to her. She is your life. You will breath her. She is your life. You will own her.