15.9.09

slow down.

- forging past conformity - an entry numero uno.

there isn't really any way that is the best way to start this, to start over, to really begin.
instead of creating a new locale (more e-mail addresses, passwords, accounts to remember), i've decided to set up shop here. this is home.

september -- mercury retrograde -- changes.

yep, once again i find myself
h e r e. a little closer to t h e r e, and definitely further from b e f o r e.
elaborating in any sort of way has always been done in masked sentences, as if there was something (maybe, yes, there was) to hide.

i have just finished designing an entire course for myself. seriously. is that possible? everything from projects, to grades, to what i'm going to do was in my hands. as the struggle of
degree or not to degree continues, i'm definitely resorting to the approach of those i admire most. for lack of a better (if any) name, the elizabeth/denni approach. genuine happiness is flowing. my heart feels good. and most importantly, this path of self discovery continues.

oh world (energy, universe, good vibes), you're crazy about me -- i knew it! and i'd like to say, i'm pretty fond of you also.

warm skies, and even warmer hearts,
L

17.8.09

w h i p l a s h . g i r l c h i l d .

laureli & sarah

c o m e t s.

'There are comets
that flash through
our mouths wearing
the grace
of oceans and galaxies.'

-r.b.
photos, words, and more (to come).

s t a y.

laurelisays...


forever friends.





sex (i'm a).

e v e r y . l i t t l e . e a r t h q u a k e .

16.8.09

bedroom.



m e r m a i d s l i v e h e r e








dance, dance, dance.

A Foreign Affair.



CIRCLE, SPHERE, WORLD
YOUR 360 DEGREES
AND MY 21 YEARS
COULD BE SO DREAMY.

just off lombok... there's an island where my heart was left behind.

tarot cards
creating the cross
between us

north, south,
east, west,

my heart is with you
no matter the direction.

oldies.



hello, garden!


30.6.09

the day was unusual (peculiar even).
the words were unfamiliar,
with a new set of vowels
  u
    i
      y?
5.
the number of freckles on the outside of your thigh.

betrayals.

undressing, she mounts her somebody else's lover,
to share in their moments,
to be lost in the crevices of each other's skin
forgotten in the delicates cycle (last night's dress, and the scent of you, spinning over and over).
adjectives can't describe it
verbs won't provoke it
thoughts won't threaten it

cuz we are the girls with the alabaster skin
the yet-to-be wanderers
your not-so-love poems
don't spin us 'round

we will be the ones to leave you(with heavy hearts).

broken records,
play heartbreak melodies
and we just dance,
this pathetic little nothing dance,
of half elevations and lousy pirouettes,
to the sound of these broken chords.

rhyme scheme: bones for sale.

i have some bones for sale,
especially for you,
rib bones, knee bones, neck bones,
and my funny bones too.

shining white, they glisten too,
never cracked, only bruised,
here they are, just for you,
never broken, hardly used.

ribs are nice for decoration,
a place to hang your coat.
practical and useful,
to whittle a new boat.

you could float away,
the crevice of my knee,
but if you'd rather this, not that,
you may use them to serve tea.

just drink me up,
in one big sip,
then lay your head,
inside my hip.

yes, use me up,
bone by bone,
pay me later,
take a loan.

bones for sale,
tear me apart,
have all of them,
but i'll keep my heart.

excerpt from an essay in progress.

oh you'd turn heads, go against everything you believe. the stars crackling, lighting a fire in our Girlish Hearts. hot and sticky air, melting our pasts and moulding our present. our curls chasing our collarbones, glances haunting our necks and spines, we are the envied -- doing anything, and everything because we are beautiful.
losing love because of life (and the way our hearts still beat),
not because of death (but because the turning of the tides).
oh, how we long to be each other's reasons be,
but now we speak no reasons, nor truths.
our wordless mouths spill only dry words,
we have stopped discovering each other.

i practically scream -- ribs in, lungs out, ribs out, lungs in--
"SEE ME AS I SEE ME!"
light kissing my collarbone,
"AN ARTIST TOO"!
i could have stopped your heart, i could have made you melt.
i found you in the corner of the city
and romanticized the idea in my head.
you were kind of like the color orange.
you didn't match anything,
and i couldn't work you into poetic rhymes.
however, my ears, got to know your words.
they liked the way you said your numbers,
and how your vowels were all mixed up.

we made love in the center of the city.
under streetlights, in the pocket of a coat,
on buildings and under chairs.

sex saints and lover bites.
we are bliss.
forever,
is starting to look a lot like for now, for then, forgotten.

this is what i do for a living.

she placed her hand on my back,
and whispered, "i can feel your spine," -- an accusation.

25.6.09

i pick you.

with a one, two, three bat of my lashes,
covered in a thick coat of black shimmer my eyelashes say, "i pick you," (from all the other golden green eyes in the sky -- you are my constant.)
i put your laughter in my pocket,
and it sings a little ha ha ha to my heart, (and this is why i need you and your crescendos).
when the world is far too big and much too wide,
you hold me in your never-ending love arms
,and show me how to whisper into the wind,
while the constellations hang above us.
what used to be, no longer is.
you and i became mere strangers,
no longer were we everywhere together,
but rather, everywhere alone (separate. apart.).
the world has changed,
but your fingertips remain the same,
as well as the stars that are your glittering eyes (i can't shake the thought of you).
i'd like to believe in you again,
and maybe us too.

piper's lagoon.





i remember thinking to myself,
how lucky, how lucky we are to have this,
the night and the moon, the ocean and stars,
and the stranger across the way.
walking up, tall and slim -- the distance shielding the expression of his face
(i pictured it, rather sunken, dark hair growing grey --a dog, man's best friend, trailing alongside)
the turning of the tide, an empty page of bar lines,
ready for notes to hang off the wave's curling points.
thinking of you, and thinking of me,
thinking of those before us...
wondering all the reasons they came, how we got here.
hand on the chanter, he starts his evening song,
lungs filling with the salty air.
everything is calm, the stars shimmering on the dark blue,
applauding the presence of his being,
the moon capturing his silhouette in a perfect spotlight.
he could inspire lost ships to find their way,
and mermaids with seaweed tangled in their tresses,
to grace us with their harmony.
it was the night,
my heart loved in piper's lagoon




the most meaningful quote of all.

"all i've ever wanted, is someone to stop me from thinking." -unknown.

love isn't always pretty.

L like an arrow
leading me to your mOuth,
or the moon.
i wonder now,
if i am the life & love pumping to your heart,
or if i'm simply falling away from you
down,
down,
down,
in your Veins...
the last one standing --Ever after-- is a lie.

january 2009 - hurt -

1:52 a.m.
minus the 20 minutes i set the clock ahead
plus the moments i think of you
1:32 a.m.

december 15, 2008.

ah!
your scent has burried itself
far
too far
into my pillow

toss & turn
fuck & love

not even the open windows and the thieving winds can take you away
a musk of staggering betrayal.

december 08, 2008

don't fall in love.
don't fall in love.
don't fall in love.
don't fall in love.
don't fall in love.

old blogs, found.

there was absolutely
completely
no essence of you left
not on the back of my neck
not on the curve of my spine.........
someone (else) found
the angel on my back
traced it with their (his) fingers
and told me
maybe dreams aren't so easy
but living without soul is far harder.
at some point, although i am not sure at which point this was, we all became strange and intolerable. really.

the Upside of Anger

"people don't know how to love. they bite rather than kiss. they slap rather than stroke. maybe it's because they recognize how easy it is for love to go bad, to become suddenly impossible... unworkable, an exercise in futility. so they avoid it and seek solace in angst, and fear, and aggression, which are always there and readily available. or maybe sometimes... they just don't have all the facts. "

sitting in hallways.

the general annoyance
of half conversations
in muted whispers

keep
mumbling
on.

thoughts for ophelia.

ophelia lay, blowing smoke from her love-stained lips into tiny haikus.
her body was sharp.
i was intimated by her beauty
everyone, everything was.
her shadow was not even her own.
it was timid, scared that it could not do her naked frame justice.
her legs were crossed
the light illuminated off the jagged points of her hips....

20.6.09

parts of the alphabet blog post 2.

what didn't we know when this started?
was it not clear.
what part of this did we chose to first ignore,
and when,
and where,
and how.

and now, if you don't love me for the cocaine arms, and too-thin thighs,
then i don't really need your truth [and especially not your lies].
what part of me was it, that made the path too hard.
was it the love, or my heart,
the truth, or the understanding about the world.
when is wrong, right?
when is right, wrong?
when is enough, enough.

i don't really like your worsts,
and sometimes, not even your bests.
but i'll always like you because of what you look like.
[let's be shallow together]

-cigarettes
-not too much cash
-not eating
-not sleeping
-not thinking

...i'll sleep too much, you'll sleep too late... and we'll just forget this ever happened.

19.6.09

lawrence & lauren relate.


"Oh the innocent girl in her maiden teens knows perfectly well what everything means." -d.h.l.
leave imprints.

that's all i ask.

[meet me in the darkroom]
[meet me on the bedroom floor]

parts of the alphabet blog post.

13 and you're too young,
to even begin to understand the mess,
you are about to get yourself into...
not to mention,
the hearts you are going to break,
and the moments you are going to steal,
the presence you are going to find yourself in.

so while you stand there,
on a sidewalk that leads you up and down,
to nowhere,
somewhere,
and every place in between,
with your doe-eyed glances,
and the snow collecting on your brow,
this moment will be worth everything,
and absolutely nothing at all.

drafts, of course.

and i dared to ask myself the question,
"can you live with this moment if it simply passes by?".

my blood wasn't happy,
it began to form a puddle in my heart.

and where you once rested,
the red sea washed you over.

in a room.

your neon head,
isn't the green of a go,
nor the red of a stop,

but rather the
drip,
drip,
drip,
of acid rain --

colourless (lifeless) as you fall.
(ugly in your afterthought).

15.6.09

a quote for the day:



"we must be willing to get rid of the life we planned...


...so as to have the life that is waiting for us....." j.c.

11.6.09

a conversation (from your side).

There is that poem, who is it by? Oh, whatever. You know, the one that says something like, "To wish love upon a friend is the most fucked up thing...". Do you know it? I'd never wish that upon you. There was that time, you know the one... We were what, 15, 16? I bet you weren't wearing a jacket. Ants in a line, that's what it was like, with the ones that got fucked by the spray. You know, the kind that kills their hearts and brains and bodies? We were there, holding it together. The rest of the world was collapsing and you and I were determined to save it all. I was determined for you. Fuck, everyone wanted to be you, everyone wanted to love you, but you picked me. Didn't you know my heart was breaking then? That this collapse of lungs and lack of oxygen wasn't just them? You knew I loved you -- didn't you. (A statement that hung heavy in the air).

10.6.09

reflection.

who are you and what have you done with myself?

"i wish i were a warhol silk screen hanging on the wall"

during this time, i waited. the moon became my late night lover, for there was no time for sleep. under the streetlight something moved, there was a shadow. i thought it was mine, escaping. but even my shadow had learned to wait, to hold on. sometimes the rain would come and sing me to sleep. others, the silence was enough to craddle my thoughts. often times, it was too much.

and i guess you haven't seen enough to make you wanna stay.


aint no sunshine ever gonna take this rain away.



was today a reflection of who you want to be?



cocaine arms.

i prefer cocaine arms and too-thin thighs.
i prefer you and me together [cocaine habit, too-thin lies].
we'll always love, over and over and over again.
we'll never stop.
our hearts aren't cold, our hearts aren't gone.
they're just tired and broken, sad and lacking oxygen.
i prefer cocaine arms and too-thin thighs.
i prefer bones and bones and dreams and bones.
and i'll always love, over and over and over again.
until my bones are too worn,
until my eyes no longer see.

two years ago... again?

we only have so many more moments.
more than none, less than more.
only. a. few. more.
(do you feel it too?)
i don't want the same sky, the same stars.
i want the same point on a map.
(my heart breaking?)
i want simple, easy, near.

i miss creating.



it's far and it's few.
it's me and it's you.
it's love and it's not.
it's hard, i forgot.

.....we are still, we are still, standing still, floating still, being still....

it's not.
you're not.
i'm not.
we're not.

and i am.
and you are.
but we aren't.
This page was empty before I gave it words,
empty like your heart before I kissed you,
like your eyes before I glanced your way.

parts of the alphabet post.

things change.
people change.
no one is logical.

you crossing a line.

we are not five years old,
this is my life -- not yours.

3.6.09

'destroy what you've made'

look next to you
there are lions.

09.

maybe if i write this down
my hands will become so fluid,
that they'll write my way out of this.

31.5.09

balance.

mother earth, mother nature,
lay me down and hold me tight,
my heart is yours, forever more.

"a women so skinny i could smell her bones" m.w.


Ode on a Grecian Urn. Keats wrote:

"Beauty is truth, truth beauty," -- that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know."

toast on a plate.

i can't leave this laying on the table,
because like everything else (all this energy, all this movement),
this could be the point of devastation.

i don't know where i'm going...

tumble,
tumble into me.

old entry.

Little love affairs,
kissing on the stairs,
and under the blanket,
and on the counter next to me.

...laurelisays...


fondly,
i think of the moment that
i pulled your hair,
and tattooed myself into your sheets.
forever there,
always yours.

my week.




may 02.

i woke up,
spit you out,
washed you off,
and wondered where the fuck is all the devastation?

this may apply to you (or the world).

you
and
yours
continued,

like the day was going to
go on and on
and on
and on and on
and on,

until your own tragedy brought the moon down.

please return our call. we'd like to ask you a few questions: a response...

life hung in the air
like the stale smell of after rain.
what are you doing?
what are you doing?
what are you doing?
who are you hurting?

the pacific sings.

here,
there are more pebbles than people.

from a sunday entry.

.... lemon water & nail polish complete this evening....

23.

my heart leapt, jumped, sank.
thoughts -- none.
aftewards -- plenty.

people, people, people,
and the world is (sometimes) heartless.

couldn't imagine... [insert too many flashbacks here]...

how i wanted to do more.

30.5.09

a bouquet of f words.

for one moment?
forever?
forgotten?
forgiven?

fuck.
welcome.