How incomprehensible it is that I'm here right now.
You're here... but you're one of them.
One of those people.
One of those people with a perfect face and an I'm-made-to-pleasure-you body,
and an endless vocabulary of laughable quips.
One of those people who can enter a room and get noticed without effort,
who can belong without trying.
At the same time you seem to meet new people,
and yet to already know everyone.
But tonight, you're here with me...
one of those other people.
I'm the person in the corner,
quietly sipping my boring drink
as my head bounces to the music.
My face is far from perfect, my body has pleasured few,
and my quips are slightly amusing... sometimes.
I meet new people when I'm lucky, and usually through someone like you.
Someone with the perfect haircut,
and adorable (disarming) smile,
and the right pheromones.
I watch you move through the crowd like you move through life,
people making room for you.
Stopping only if, when and where you please.
Making conversation. Doing whatever you want.
Glancing at the person in the corner and giving them the thrill of the month.
Thanks for giving me my thrill,
thanks for letting me watch from this corner of my life.
Thanks for showing me what I could have, what I could be doing...
how bad my timing is, how awkwardly I handle situations.
Thanks for letting me taste the freedom I still long for, and yet
am terrified by.
For it seems that in my case,
complete freedom seems to come with a certain loneliness.
As much as I yearn to walk along side you through your world,
I know it would mean losing mine,
it would mean leaving behind something comfortable,
and I like being comfortable.
We all do, right?
Or is it just scared little corner people like me?
You seem to do just fine.
Or, maybe that's why we're here together tonight.
Maybe that's why people like you glance at people like me
safe and snug in our corners.
Maybe you crave what I have. How ironic would that be...
if the prison I long to escape seems the exit out of yours.
Maybe we could save each other...
Here, take my hand...
I'll come out of my corner if
you come out of yours.
Together, we'll have the best of both worlds.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Monday, March 7, 2011
Suspension Bridge
We sit side by side, yet alone
within the enclaves of our minds.
The sudden eloquence of speechlessness
turns into a long dialogue of silence.
She seems so beautiful sitting there,
innocent to the barely perceptible disharmony
which spills through the room like ether,
threatening our newly constructed suspension bridge -
our only link across this chasm of covers.
IT was there between us,
unspeakable, unspoken.
But I knew memory would never let it go,
this endless shared secret.
Then, with the sounding of some imaginary gong
the moment ends.
Her smile returns
and her eyes dance for me once again.
I can see that the little man within her mind
has neatly filed away the memory
and I find myself desperately hoping that he,
like mine, has tagged it -
the easier to later reenact
the wordless drama of our passion.
within the enclaves of our minds.
The sudden eloquence of speechlessness
turns into a long dialogue of silence.
She seems so beautiful sitting there,
innocent to the barely perceptible disharmony
which spills through the room like ether,
threatening our newly constructed suspension bridge -
our only link across this chasm of covers.
IT was there between us,
unspeakable, unspoken.
But I knew memory would never let it go,
this endless shared secret.
Then, with the sounding of some imaginary gong
the moment ends.
Her smile returns
and her eyes dance for me once again.
I can see that the little man within her mind
has neatly filed away the memory
and I find myself desperately hoping that he,
like mine, has tagged it -
the easier to later reenact
the wordless drama of our passion.
Untitled
Sitting here silent,
thoughts of you play within my head
like the movies we always used to watch,
like the television shows
I'd have to drag you away from.
I watch different shows now
and you're not here
for me to share them with.
It took me a while
to grow accustomed to that.
I still turn in expectation of you
and a certain comment
I know you'd make out of habit.
And people look at me funny
wondering what I'm looking for
and I have to explain it's a who,
not a what.
But they don't care
and no one seems to understand.
I'm not even sure
if you'd understand anymore.
You say I've changed,
but I still feel the same.
I think it's you that's changed,
you that's moved away.
My friends say that people tend to do that
in our given situation,
but that is something I cannot accept
for when have we ever done
what was expected of us
in a given situation?
Besides,
I'm not even sure
of where I am right now,
of what I'm doing.
I need something to remind me
of who I was, who I am.
I need something familiar,
a home base where I can feel safe.
What I'm trying to say
is that I still need you
despite what I've said.
So, please come back to me?
I'll be waiting
in the glow of the television
watching our favorite shows...
thoughts of you play within my head
like the movies we always used to watch,
like the television shows
I'd have to drag you away from.
I watch different shows now
and you're not here
for me to share them with.
It took me a while
to grow accustomed to that.
I still turn in expectation of you
and a certain comment
I know you'd make out of habit.
And people look at me funny
wondering what I'm looking for
and I have to explain it's a who,
not a what.
But they don't care
and no one seems to understand.
I'm not even sure
if you'd understand anymore.
You say I've changed,
but I still feel the same.
I think it's you that's changed,
you that's moved away.
My friends say that people tend to do that
in our given situation,
but that is something I cannot accept
for when have we ever done
what was expected of us
in a given situation?
Besides,
I'm not even sure
of where I am right now,
of what I'm doing.
I need something to remind me
of who I was, who I am.
I need something familiar,
a home base where I can feel safe.
What I'm trying to say
is that I still need you
despite what I've said.
So, please come back to me?
I'll be waiting
in the glow of the television
watching our favorite shows...
Untitled College Assignment - 1997
You say that what you think about is different.
You say that there is a struggle going on inside you.
You say that you want to get deep.
You say that you want to devour truth.
You say that you are not a narcissist.
You quote C.S. Lewis, saying you are:
"a zoo of lusts, a bedlam of ambitions,
a nursery of fears, a harem of fondled hatreds."
Well, welcome to the club.
You say that there is a struggle going on inside you.
You say that you want to get deep.
You say that you want to devour truth.
You say that you are not a narcissist.
You quote C.S. Lewis, saying you are:
"a zoo of lusts, a bedlam of ambitions,
a nursery of fears, a harem of fondled hatreds."
Well, welcome to the club.
Untitled
What might have been is dead:
died in the gruesome exchange
of abject pleading, bitter denunciations,
and magnificent soul-baring.
Hidden messages of love and support
nothing but contrived arguments.
Your self-importance impedes my destiny
and my self-knowledge sets me free...
died in the gruesome exchange
of abject pleading, bitter denunciations,
and magnificent soul-baring.
Hidden messages of love and support
nothing but contrived arguments.
Your self-importance impedes my destiny
and my self-knowledge sets me free...
The Dragon
rage
blinding fury
like I've never known before
I'm not supposed to drive
in this condition
Should I pull over?
No
'cause then I would have two hands free
and you would have to die
I can't believe I'm looking at you
in my passenger seat
rather than my rearview mirror
or better yet,
underneath my tires
stuck in the little crevices
bits and pieces
how I feel right now
shattered
torn apart
by anger
that burns me
instead of devouring you
I should release this dragon
to consume you alive...
but then I would be without you
and all I would have left is
rage
blinding fury
like I've never known before
I'm not supposed to drive
in this condition
Should I pull over?
No
'cause then I would have two hands free
and you would have to die
I can't believe I'm looking at you
in my passenger seat
rather than my rearview mirror
or better yet,
underneath my tires
stuck in the little crevices
bits and pieces
how I feel right now
shattered
torn apart
by anger
that burns me
instead of devouring you
I should release this dragon
to consume you alive...
but then I would be without you
and all I would have left is
rage
Mixed Up
Mixed up feelings
and fucked up thoughts
seem to go hand in hand these days.
But you know that
better than anyone,
for those were your gifts to me.
I mean,
why give anyone flowers or jewelry
when you can give them a piece of your mind
whether they want it or not?
Who knows,
maybe I did then.
Want it, I mean.
Maybe I yearned to become one...
although only God knows why.
But hey, I'm stuck with it now.
So I'll deal.
No regrets, right?
Yeah, right.
You want me to give up my "what ifs", too?
Jeez, that would make it easy.
And nothing humans do
can ever be easy.
I guess we feel
we don't have enough challenges yet.
So we give each other
these mixed up feelings
and fucked up thoughts,
wrapped in tinted cellophane,
sealed in sticky tape.
And then we leave each other
alone in silence
to unwrap them by ourselves
with no scissors.
And to assemble them
in some type of order
with no directions.
I think they should come
with age restrictions.
Something like: "50 and up"
'cause a mid-life crisis
shouldn't be allowed to happen
until mid-life, don't ya think?
Well, I do.
I think and I feel
these mixed up feelings and fucked up thoughts
that you gave me.
I try to take them out
one by one
to examine them
more closely, carefully.
But it doesn't work that way.
They overflow and carry me off...
I am surrounded and engulfed
by these mixed up feelings
and fucked up thoughts
that you left me.
and fucked up thoughts
seem to go hand in hand these days.
But you know that
better than anyone,
for those were your gifts to me.
I mean,
why give anyone flowers or jewelry
when you can give them a piece of your mind
whether they want it or not?
Who knows,
maybe I did then.
Want it, I mean.
Maybe I yearned to become one...
although only God knows why.
But hey, I'm stuck with it now.
So I'll deal.
No regrets, right?
Yeah, right.
You want me to give up my "what ifs", too?
Jeez, that would make it easy.
And nothing humans do
can ever be easy.
I guess we feel
we don't have enough challenges yet.
So we give each other
these mixed up feelings
and fucked up thoughts,
wrapped in tinted cellophane,
sealed in sticky tape.
And then we leave each other
alone in silence
to unwrap them by ourselves
with no scissors.
And to assemble them
in some type of order
with no directions.
I think they should come
with age restrictions.
Something like: "50 and up"
'cause a mid-life crisis
shouldn't be allowed to happen
until mid-life, don't ya think?
Well, I do.
I think and I feel
these mixed up feelings and fucked up thoughts
that you gave me.
I try to take them out
one by one
to examine them
more closely, carefully.
But it doesn't work that way.
They overflow and carry me off...
I am surrounded and engulfed
by these mixed up feelings
and fucked up thoughts
that you left me.
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