blushing as a male

What’s goin on in your life?

I don’t know jake. You tell me

Well, what are you thinking about right now?

I know im thinking about the scenery

holding hands with childhood dreams

logs stacked up, and colorful things

a lush forest by the home grown up, by

somehow outlying the principle green

what was once a row of houses

becomes extraordinary deep abysses and tangent colors

wild, circular rings

how could my mind, at such an age

imagine such things?

dear lord am I vying for an intrinsic set of irises and fixations, tings

well beyond control, pings and pongs

controlling the cringles and crackles

a sheet of paper emanates, the scent of sound for miles

to green and greener places ever longer

a place with no end

and years are blocks

stacked, chopped slapped and repeated

where did they go?

Down the hole my parents built

No figuratively, positively, otherworldly

Just a back yard and a hole

And there went my plastic toys too

And there I met you

Believe it or not, the number of times I’ve died has reached a few

Eyes closed, open or eyes breaking glass to get in passed curfew

I never deny a sight when a scope lies naked before my eyes

I just lay there, wishing that peripherals command your inner spy

Shivers sent up my spine when I know you want to

Turns me on, that’s for sure

Just tickle my spine and I’ll grab your waist

Curiously

Myself, wondering why despite the transmission

There seems a lovely hint of black and white

Between you and I,

Between you and i.

I like your eyes

I like your skin

And even better, you can’t smell

So that scent beyond you I can so eloquently fill in

My back is waiting for your hands to begin.

the origin

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_TvH6twZClM

so you spilt every last penny into the car, and it still won't take you where you need to go

Perhaps I may have overlooked it

I tend to drift over the point

So prod my face and body

Till I’m rested enough to take in you

You put in all this effort

But I don’t reciprocate

The pretty sun falls behind your eyes

As the horizon blows me off

I got a problem blaming others

Without wiping off my own ass

I Believe I see your struggle’s obvious

But the steps keep raising up

I know icicles seem to resemble

The dripping from your tounge

And the tricycles just remind me

Of a time when I had fun

I ignore

I ignore

Intentionally, accidentally

I’m tryin to try

I’m tryin to try

There goes the montage

It runs circles through my head

There go the memories

I’ve never met you but somehow

Somehow

A slap in the face

A slap in the wrist

A slap in side some demerging

Dreamscape relates back to you

Ill never wake up

I ignore

I ignore

Intentionally, accidentally

I’m tryin to try

I’m tryin to try

First page

all i can see now is this mirror. in this mirror i, of course, am sitting outside the window of jake's prius as he whirls around the vermont woods on a dirty, dirty road. autumn fog lifts by milieu replaces the silence and there is a smile on my face. slow motion, indeed, but not motionless. I've just had a wonderful night, a wonderful night filled with beers and friends and backwoods and cheesy dogs and all of the joys that a single tongue can pronounce as succulent. that smile wasn't born from genetic manipulation or wedlock but a very genuine, sincere excitement for life's lovely little wonders. not to mention the sex, my lord that girl is a damsel and a devil in one and i wouldn't have it any other way. but that isn't why i'm smiling. i'm not the only one hanging out of that car, letting the wind glide between each hair like bullets and neo and the matrix and all that malarkey. my friends mirror me as well, and they love this. they love this weather, they love the no cares and they love gliding down this road because there ain't a god damned cop in sight. there's no care in the world and fuck man, heh, im sitting here laughing out loud to myself from that raw "HELL YEAH!" that resounded from all of us. that was one of many days my flesh was yanked from my bones and i knew i was alive.

it all started, shit, when did it all start? i mean most would say conception but i cant speak on behalf of my counterpart. by that i mean elliot, and without him i wouldn't be where i am today. i remember vividly meeting him in video journalism club. there was a fake plush, stuffed snake tied around his neck. he had round harry potter sunglasses and for some reason his pores emitted a smell like something pretentious. intimidation, perhaps. i think so. i got the air of intimidation emitting from him and vinny barone snickering together. like most instances in my life when i realize i don't have what i want, jealousy consumed me. that jealousy is there to bite me more now than memories themselves.

to be continued...

My girl molly

What do we have to live for but tight ropes?
A long, clandestine intricately boundless system
Of pulleys, levers, chains, automation and oil lubes
I seem to hold several flower pedals
Just as they disintegrate or perhaps misshape
Within moments they become sand grains
Pains in the neck and a leg movement that urges strain
And all I can explain to anyone is
Some sort of sugar-y coating that eases the pain
Injects a piece of mind and flaps its wings
Like a grandiose crane
And even though I wake or attempt sleep insane
It seems to be worth the spare change
More than a tax is paid for living in some claustrophobic
Lead-filled urban range
People are strange and my needs are contagious
A disease I spread to myself absent of courageous efforts
But this persists
A simple lift that exclaims “this is it!”
One of few moments where a human being
Manifests itself it me
And I can truly rip off the gooey, fish eye lenses
And see things for just being
Without letting this liquid escape by just peeing
My bladder takes second place
To the new face of powdered grace
And simply realizing I only need happiness at a steady pace
After urging this instant matrix of hooray
And space, infinite
I need my space.

Dut duh, dut duh, dut da-da-da duh

Few long lasting passions
But a few that do
Pinpoint the few
For me and If I
don’t have a clue
Inform me too
Because we won’t connect
On any note but blue
Unless the suppression comes to the surface
I need to unearth this
Please regurgitate
The hate that has served us
So well to deserve the purge that unfolds
For a must to become dusk comprises
the silk that surprises elders
In their pink laminated caress
entwined within a fishnet mess
Confess please
For me
It’s the least I can be
To release upon a surge
Of just you and me
I wouldn’t clearly see
Unless that puzzle, like a neck, chest and torso fit quite right to a T
Oh you
Oh me
Such a unity
That pleases beyond the eye can clearly see
Of a passer by and a baby born to be
The one that carries a seed to a plant that forms a tree
Each branch that spans a length no geometry can feasibly place a degree
I want to see
And I want within me nothing more than nature, you, a bird and a bee

Sweaty Palms (Psalms)

Sweaty palms

Slide against the car
Like a brush on canvass
Sweaty palms
Hold her face
As her hair goes windswept
My lord, reap this needless malevolent grace
A black cloud of desire
Keeping sullen pits of dripping, seeping limits
These inexplicable rims lining tins
Of tobacco shards and addictive grins
And the faces far inside
My lord, the curves of her body
As I round each bend
Stricken with mirages of oncoming traffic
This chest of mine
A huffing, puffing brown bag
Sucked by that calligraphic, whimsical woman
That croons with her siren swaying
A formidable lust
A tantalizing bust with cherries held high
For my lips to cup the tongue that extends in one single try
To caress, events that remain wet
A final fret embodies the well-behaved pet
A sit, stay, roll over kind of lay-down sort of,
Open up to me, that’s all I ask
Let’s not remain framed and contained
By a society hell bent on games
And the plain “same”
We’ll forget this
We can stay inside for the sunshine
And have a picnic in the rain.