Beauty is pain,
The old refrain,
For vanity has your conscience slain.
Why suffer to get what you’ve already got?
By the looks of it you’ve got a lot.
Why pine for what is already a possession?
And tug out slowly the untruthful confession.
Why strive for what you’ve already earned?
Why desire something already yearned?
For the beauty within is confined to no walls,
A prisoner within no halls.
Beauty is honest,
Beauty is right,
Beauty is seeing the light.
Beauty is not pain at all,
Just happiness after the fall.

s    o        p

s        t          o        p



( s  to p ........)

s
t
o
p




s  t  o   p           . . . .               a   t                  s  c r e  e

                                                           ­                                  n
                                                               ­                                     s




s    t   o    p          l   o      o    k     i         n            g           .......

.
.
.


stoplookingatscreens and go be

STOP looking at
screens and
go
be



STOP LOOKING AT SCREENS

There's a whole world of real things
to see


Go on, go



Sincerely

Murmurs of French
must have blanketed the great–
cocooning 'round Salinger,
lilting for Whitman–

flitting by Carroll and
flirting with Eliot,
sighing on Plato,
marching in Chaucer,
nuzzling up Dickinson,
lying with Hemingway,
giggling to Alcott and
gasping at Plath.

Murmurs of French
must have borne their babe souls,
gifting them music
instead of dry words.

Murmurs of French,
the language of beauty,
just buzz past my ears
'fore I swat them away.
It is fitting, I think,
that my tongue should collapse
upon trying merci
or a bon appétit,

and the lone French I can muster
is notably stolen
from the notoriety of
a Madame Marmalade.

*******, you *******
******* for being ****** up and not being able to be fixed
and not being able to fix yourself
******* for representing all the unhealthy relationships in my life
(read: ALL the relationships in my life)
******* for your two-facedness, for the things that were ****** up then,
for the things that are ****** up now and for
you pretending that it isn’t this way
pretending to be holding the truth
be speaking the truth
be slurring the truth
you are unknowing of the truth
I am not knowing of what’s true
and good,
but you are not it.

So leave, leave, leave, and take her with you,
and pretend as if you have me in your heart
but forget me. Please don’t speak to me.
And don’t cry to me.

And at some point, eat. And at some point, sleep.
Between the meaningless bouts of *******, *******, *******,
and pretending to be finding the things
you find meaningful
You haven’t thought about them in a while, have you

I’m angry at you and I’m angrier at myself
But at least I’m proud of myself
Because whatever hurts me now makes me grow
I can handle being alone and learn independence, and it will
be my weapon against you and everyone like you.

I don’t love you. I don’t know what that kind of love is and I hope to not find it for a while.

Maybe I can just build you a house
And then sit beside it
Or inside it. Beside you.

I hung up the phone with the conviction of a man about to walk into his own triple ****** trial.
Your voice on the line sounded sympathetic, and yet, pitying. As if you were sorry for the fact that I was so in love with the way that voice sounded on its own.
I am creating stress, I am simply recycling old issues.
I miss you.

I will throw you out this window
And be sure that my fists are broken in your cheekbones,
Dislocated jaw will hang sideways
While our blood will mix into violet.
I'll tickle your ribs with a buck knife
And spit all my teeth into your eyes.
I genuinely hope that you don't die,
Your lesson is best learned alive.

If it wasn't for you, my fists wouldn't be vibrating
Teeth would be a good millimeter longer
Arms would be loose, migraine at rest
Furrowed brows under new context.

Please forgive my idiocy
For making this harder for you than it has to be.
But don't block yourself from your love for me.
Please don't force yourself to forget me.
Let what you feel be just what you feel.
The higher you build your walls
(or the less you pay attention to the workers)
The sooner my heart will bleed.


I'm ******* tired of being the one to get bruised
Just to turn around and smile through ****** gums
And act like things don't hurt.

I am on the frontburner.

**** it, this hurts so much. I love you too much.
I hate myself.
I don't.

I am so confused. I want you to be happy.
And I want you to want me near you.
Enjoy your friends.

I am with too many people too much.
I want to be alone.

I want to be with you.
This poem is ******* horrible.
I just miss you.
Sorry.

I'm miscarrying. I'm losing a Child I could never have.
I expected an abortion and what I got was a second trimester.

I feel like everything beautiful I could ever say to you,
Everything that could truly add up to your worth,
You already know, and I have never even said them...
Except with my eyes. All I want is to have
And to hold.

I feel you have always known me.
Like a little piece of what I am has always been in you
And everything you are has somehow sunk into my
Conscience, my soul. When I am around you,
I feel I have a soul. Remember? An entity. It's really there.
People like you make me hope hope hope TO GOD that there is a Heaven
People like you make me pray pray PRAY to someone I don't KNOW that we, as a species, can finally transcend and become something MORE.
People like you make me BELIEVE that there is a possibility
That humans can be the epitome of goodness, and tenderness, and responsibility, and care, and equality, and pensive, and love.

I'm honest. Everything will be fine for me:
It's fine that I'll cry
It's fine that I'll feel depressed
It's fine that I'll feel unwanted
It's fine that I'll feel neglected
And rejected, and pitied, and inadequate...
Because these are all normal human emotions.

But before this happens, what about...
How long we can gaze at each other?
What about how perfect our skin feels aligned?
What about what those moments made you say?
Remember the contentment? The beauty in us
Just being there?
What about you wanting it more than I did?
What was all this? A precursor to a let-down?
A build-up and a sudden realization of the fact that we are two separate people who feel completely comfortable as a single whole and you can't handle that right now?
Because I could understand that.
And I would still be here for you.

But for the record...

I feel like if this universe were to open up right now
And time melted and disintegrated into dust
And oceans began screaming and violins exploded
And swans sang choruses with choked voices
And volcanoes erupted, and bombs fell, and echos stopped
And all the bells in the world forgot how to ring,
That my last dying wish would be to run as fast as I could
To find you. And then I would hold you.
And I would hold you as this world collapsed.
I would hold you until my hands grafted into your skin
I would hold you until we were but skeletons arm in arm
Splitting into thousands of pieces from shock waves
I would ****** your spine with my fingers until they collided
Until the world split directly in half
I would rewrite constellations to spell your name, PROUDLY
I would cry blood into your soul and you would know what I REALLY FEEL.
I would squeeze you so hard that you would HAVE to understand and tell yourself,
"These are the very last moments I will live."
And, without speaking, my lips would reply,
"SO LIVE THEM WELL."

This is something I care not to clarify
I love the way you love the way I love the way you think.
It's so passive, reliable, justifiable, true.
Genuine, down to earth, positively youthful
I like the airwaves within this space
The fluttering shimmers of particles
Floating leisurely among these silent breaths
Between words, between sighs, between signals
Never misinterpreted

It's as though a single mind unites both of ours
Not as if we share it, but as if some unifying God shares us
And allows us to share its beauty among ourselves.
This is the moment that freezes the day still,
A completely honest simplicity in naked exposure
Veins pumping radiated green liquid
Nitrogen honeycombs decorating the walls
Splicing and combing DNA strands

This is what it is to be maybe, probably, quite possibly but most likely not in love
But maybe, probably, quite possibly but most likely not just a confusion.

I think, I think this is a blank sheet.
That we have openly filled in
You propose with those bright colors
And i fill in all the dark spots
And this blank paper becomes a painting
And soon, I feel, whether you try to make it work or not
We will be immortalized in this painting...

Because let me tell you one thing I know for sure about us.
Whether it ever got finished or not,
I would never, ever, EVER sell that painting.

She knew her rights,
She recited her veiws.
They crushed her down,
And she didn't understand.
She thought to herself,
"Why say how I feel,
If all I get is hated?"

Your eyes dance like the last 3 men on stage at the end of a tragic play
Your legs grow from the earth and never falter like evergreen trees on a foggy day
we'd gallop down these empty cobblestone streets until we entered the veins
And on and on our twisted wires will conspire until we meet in the rain.

Darling, are you famous?
Is it for you I play this?
Why is it so hard to say it?
I want to loosen your teeth and your locked lips

Smile for me, the radiation in your mouth blinds the hateful fool inside me.
Laugh for me, I'll create a nation to bind you to the coils of my arteries
Hold me, your arms are oh, so cold, and they never relax my neck long enough
Open your mouth and leave your cries out to dry out and rot away in the sun snuffed

You're the one I bowed to, you gave me such a start
"Is it really her name that's been stuck inside my heart?"
And had I known that I really had a choice
My undying desire for you, long ago, I would have voiced
When you stroll by, all I can see are the music waves in your eyes
And sometimes, not knowing your name made me want to cry
So tonight, it will be known that I hate being on my own
And if I am lucky, maybe neither of us will have to stay alone.