Wednesday, November 28, 2007


The Second Omen: Spring
~C. Dale Young

One refuses to hold the other’s hand.
One pours wine and misses the glass.
Signs sent by a lesser god again and again
to no avail. That the body is mostly water,

this we could agree upon. All else was less
than palatable. I said I loved you, too.
In this way, the heart lies, too.
The dogwoods bloom; their lies, like mine,

gorgeous and capable of seduction.
And outside, the vines kept twisting and twisting…
Yes, outside, the vines kept twisting and twisting,
gorgeous and capable of seduction.

The dogwood’s blooms are lies like mine.
In this way, the heart lies, too.
Palatable? I said I loved you, too.
This we could agree upon. All else was less,

to no avail. The body is still mostly water.
Signs. Lesser gods. Again and again,
one pours wine and misses the glass,
one refuses to hold the other’s hand.

Thursday, November 22, 2007

oil on canvas

Most people in the world at one time or another say something along the lines of, "I've always wanted to be a painter, but I'd be no good at it," or, "I've always wanted to be a writer, but I'm no good with words." Those same people have never tried. No one ever says, "I want to love someone unconditionally, but I wouldn't be any good at it." Most of us should say that. Almost none of us have actually tried.


I'm sorry.

closed doors are the first signs of hope

When you want nothing more than to stop caring, you can't care more. When you want nothing more than to forget...


There's a place I want to go.

and you came off so smooth...

...with all your character flaws


And when a little more time has passed, two or three hundred years, . . . everything we do now will seem clumsy, and difficult, and terribly uncomfortable and strange.

~Vershinin, Chekhov

how could you leave this way...

I just can't stand to see you smile
from a picture frame,
and all I wanna do is touch your face
and take you far away...

Monday, November 19, 2007

And now I'm content with my breath
because I'm alive...


This used to be my favorite holiday. It might still be; I'm really not sure. Last Thanksgiving was horrible. One year later, things aren't much different. Well, there were good things about last Thanksgiving, just as I'm sure there will be about this one. This is the holiday I loved more than anything when I was younger. There's no commercial (or very little) pressure, no gifts, no frantically trying to find just the right gift for someone who will not like the gift anyway. Plus, the Texas/Texas A&M game was always fun to watch. The food is always good. Being around family was always nice.


Tofurkey? Hmm. Interesting.

Here Goes Nothing...

I'm not sure what I want have you or to forget you.


Nothing else would make much sense.


But can you live with giving in? I don't see you changing your mind anytime soon...but I sure hope you do...What you got and what you want will never be the same thing. Take that from someone who should know.

~Treaty of Paris

Down Towards the Healing

I want to make you happy,
but I've fallen. I'm sorry.
I thought my wings could hold me up
with angels not demons.
You don't know how cool you are
to find the ways to love me without shame.



Who would have thought that falling 7 feet or so, landing on rocks and dirt, landing on your arm, and smacking your knee against the frame of your bike would hurt so much. Maybe it's the bruised ribs. Maybe it's the sore shoulder. Maybe it's the grapefruit I'm smuggling on my kneecap just below the skin. I don't know, but walking seems to be a struggle right now. Thank God for strong pain killers. And is it bad that I want nothing more than to get back out to the trail right now?


Just as it's impossible to say I love you to someone you love, it's impossible to say I'm sorry to someone you really are sorry for hurting.

Monday, November 5, 2007

Beneath Medicine Tree

(the) dissolution of articles


If it's not too late for coffee,
I'll be at your place in ten.
We'll hit that all night diner
and then we'll see...



I'm tired. I'm worn out. I feel ill. I'm anxious. I can't stand how messy the apartment is, which is probably why I'm anxious. Oh, and I love it, but it hurt like hell. It seems that everything you love eventually makes you hurt like hell.

eat, sleep, repeat

It occurred to me at once
that love could be a great illusion
that makes fools of brilliant thinkers everyday
and turns hearts of stone and steel
to a place where they would feel
like they are falling, falling quickly in its way
falling, falling quickly in its way.

Is it any surprise that you feel so overrun?
And all this time you had no one to tell you how to love.
And do you thinks it's unwise to go and break yourself on this one?
And all this time you didn't know love
you didn't know love
you didn't know love...



Teaching would be an awesome job if it weren't for the paperwork...and the planning...and the low pay...oh, and the kids...and the...nevermind.

that which we call love...

Here we go again.


Picture yourself here. I'll pretend to be somewhere else, to be someone else. Maybe then I'd be happy. Maybe then we'd be happy.

Sunday, November 4, 2007

you've been the only thing that's right...

in all I've done.


Surprise, surprise. I haven't felt like doing anything over the past few days.

The countdown has begun.

Friday, November 2, 2007

step one:

find a partner, grab a pen, and don't you dare ask questions, just sign on the dotted line.

you run away for no apparent reason

I'm in envy of addicts. You're obsessed with stars.
Don't, don't you sound so excited just showing me your vanity.
Whisper it once, just a little bit.
Come on whisper it twice,
I can't stand to see the spotlight shine one more night.
It's killing me to see you.

Just tie the rope and kick the chair,
just leave me hanging there, gasping for air.
Yeah, don't mind me three feet from the ceiling.

You'd rather watch me drown,
then see your hands get wet.
You took the plot from stage to screen
and turned it to an epic scene.

So whisper it once, tell me again.
Come on, whisper it twice,
I can't stand to see my whole life flash before my eyes.
When I'm with you there's no point in breathing.

~The Format

ineloquence and anger...

...are all we have.


I hate the fact that I get so mad about such stupid things. I hate that I get so mad when I forget things. I hate that I used to be able to stay calm in nearly every situation. I hate that I can't stay calm in any situation now. I'm just sick of this all.

It's not there now...

Stable: not easily moved. Stability, equilibrium, stasis.


I wish there were something I could do to change this. Anything. But I can't, and that kills me.