Tuesday, July 27, 2004


i'm studying the war cultures right now
and i begin to understand the rage
felt by all these ancient men
stirred to march and die for causes
they deemed necessary for bloodshed
i could take up my sword right now
i could lose myself in the death throes
of the people i hack down in blood-rage
and come out on the other side of battle,
filthy and worn, but whole as i could be
having hacked my heart to bits in war-mongering
i could walk on, and try to never feel again.

Wednesday, July 21, 2004


you know it's on the line
trembling between past present
former and future
you wait
grasping for both sides,
of letting go
but you know that
forward is the only way,
there is nothing for you
in the past.
begin to throw away
your old life,
tearing a new spot for yourself
in the fabric of the world,
while the past digs its claws
into tender places.

Sunday, July 18, 2004

leave everything behind

try not to mind when
they cry when you leave.
it is only a few moments,
their eyes will dry.
do not compulsively
clench your throat,
do not look back
as you drive away.
the road promises new
beginnings, and people
who have not lived
your middle school failures
and small high school triumphs.
you will be anonymous, alone.
do not cry when you realize
you have run away
to a new set of problems.
your status isn't changing,
you are still the same.
they are still the same.
it is all the same.
do not call your old best friends
and watch even the most familiar
melt away into strangeness.
most of all, do not admit
your failings, when home for the holidays -
no, it's good, really -
i'm fine.

Wednesday, July 14, 2004


pale green lampbeams shine
from the black fur of face.
short glints and she looks away,
tail twitching, waiting
staring at rough bark.
i hear the cheerful chirping
she is so enamored of,
and i really hope
(although i rather like birds)
that her fur will hide
from glints of sunlight.
a tensing of body and limbs.
birds shoot from branches
and she flicks her tail
once, twice,
and curls underneath
the tree's shade, waiting.

Wednesday, July 7, 2004

worn through with you

why, whisper,
do you long for death so?
surely you know
it will not stop your longings,
fears and heresies. deeply inside
where your heart rots from misuse
in your chest, you can feel
that death is not the escape
you'd love it to be.
no, you will find
yourself again, over and over
you cannot expect the mortal coil
to change you.
death is nothing.
it will not kill your forbidden desires, or
help you run away.
death will bring you back here, over and over;
you cannot escape
from yourself.