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Heartbreak 2.0

"we can never be friends" she texted
"can you believe that shit?" i thought
"here's how it goes" she texted before i could even hit reply
"don't text me or e-mail me and i'll be just fine" she continued
not knowing what to do, i texted back, "okay, you win"
a minute later i sent, "i sure will miss you as a comrade"
if not a friend
"we were great before you wanted to look at my profile all night" she texted
"compulsive obsessive, yo" she continued
"you freaked me out so much i just wanted to take a shower so hot my first three layers of skin melted away"
my phone kept blowing up, i wanted it to stop
"you are a very funny, intelligent and adept person"
"you are good with a selfless genuine heart but i can't take the weight of your loneliness"
"i prefer to be like dictators who erase their history"
"it's better this way" she buzzed me one last time
i'm still waiting for the next buzz


Composed March 23, 2007
Edited January 2, 2010

"I Dream to Be
To Be as Dreamt

"O Perfect Thoughts
They Came but Went

"As I am Dream
So have I been

"Flying and Falling
All with a Grin

"Yet I seem to Fade
As Morn's a'breaking

"Each Day I Unlearn
The Wisdom of My Making"

The Wheel Always Turns, Returns

In the pull of night
When beauty feels too real
And secrets like eyes sparkle in darkness
I still wonder

Did you know what a wreck we’d become?
Did you warn me away even as you beckoned?

And now, now is yet another year past
It feels like I must be dreaming
But that cannot be
For when awake all is but dream

I cannot escape night
My joy pours out when you are near

I carry you on the left side
Closer than before
All our silent years
You still look past

Latest ten CDs on deck

In no particular order of preference:

Crain -- Speed
Eleventh Dream Day -- Zeroes and Ones
The Sonora Pine -- The Sonora Pine II
Sean Garrison -- Saved By the Great Yellow Bird
Squirrel Bait -- Skag Heaven
Freakwater -- Feels Like the Third Time
Rachel's -- Music for Egon Schiele
My Morning Jacket -- Z
Louisville is for Lovers 2010 ("Goodbye")
Louisville Babylon 1994

It's local music all this week, it seems...probably time to head on down to ear X-tacy and make another purchase, too.

Caveat: Pretentious Poetry Possibility

I hate that I can't say what I really want to say to you

I can't tell you that I love you
I can't touch your pretty face

I can't tell you that I want to walk beside you
I can't kiss those electric magic lips

I hate that I burn from the inside to be inside you

I can't tell you that you are the one who comforts me
I can't smooth your hair as you sleep

I can't tell you that your voice makes me tingle
I can't hold your strong, elegant hands

I hate that we ever got so far apart

You are the hole in my heart
And my joy pours out whenever we are near

I Cannot Escape

Everywhere there you are

You go with me up the stairs
I stop just before the landing

Your kiss is upon my lips
I close my eyes and lean into it

Into air you are not there
But you won't leave me be

Your body presses against mine when my clothes move
I cannot walk I cannot breathe

When I sleep you laugh and sparkle beside me

You turn the door and then I startle awake
Expecting you in the frame

Nothing is the same
It's all the same

I still try to inhale the ghost scent you left in my jacket
When you wore it that last day

I want to go to you but you push me away
My hands move as if creating or choking, cleaning

They caress your smooth pale skin

They tug your hair gently
They turn your face up into the light

Light no longer shines on me
I am cheated I am cold

Your words still feather my ears
Sussurate and slide away

I cannot remember what you said
I remember nights and secrets, eyes

I cannot escape your eyes

Top Ten CD's Right Now

In no particular order...

  1. MGMT -- Oracular
  2. Legendary Pink Dots -- The Lovers
  3. The Bravery -- The Bravery
  4. Tapes 'n Tapes -- The Loon
  5. Panic at the Disco -- Pretty. Odd.
  6. Antony & the Johnsons -- The Crying Light
  7. Stevie Nicks -- Trouble in Shangri-La
  8. Various Artists -- OMFGG (sdtrk)
  9. Langhorne Slim -- Langhorne Slim
10. Various Artists -- Lost in Translation (sdtrk)

Strangers in Paradise

I was re-reading some old issues of S.I.P. (by Terry Moore) today and it really put me in a bad mood. 

I miss the feeling his comic gave me.  I miss the characters.  I miss they way they moved.  I miss the banter.

I miss the feeling of being connected and of wanting to watch their lives unfold.  I miss being a part of a kind of secret circle. 

And still I find myself thinking, "It's got to be more than that, though, right?"

"If so, what could it be?" 

When I am awake, it is only a dream...

You made me see stars, pretty eyes. 

I can still feel how your lips felt when we kissed while I am sitting here.

I can still feel your fingers brush mine like it was minutes ago.

I want to run my hands through your hair and tug.

I can't sleep anymore and I dream the weirdest things. 

Often you are there with me in dream.

There you whisper, you dance, you put your fingers to my lips.

I laugh and feel free of time, responsibility, or fear.

Dreams are like Angels

I had a dream last night with you in it...
It took place in one of those nebulous places that exist in dreams though this one was like the backstage of a theater...but really expansive.   There was a fading hubbub in the background as if the other cast and crew were leaving after a performance.  But you had a dressing room all your own where you were sitting in front of a mirror, all exhausted and emotional at the same time...kind of a mix of happy and sad. 
Your make-up was flawless and emphasized your eyes.  You were in some kind of turn of the 19th, early 20th century period dress...the kind with the long sleeves that have buttons up the side and lace at the end, corset-waisted with that funky ribbon-lacing up the back, beading along the hems, etc.  It was in a gorgeous blue, not deep but not powdery.  Pretty pricey stuff for a theater, might even have been vintage.
You had longer hair than you do now and it was done mostly up like they used to when wearing a fancy hat.  I never saw your fancy hat, though.  Some of your hair at the nape of your neck and along one side of your face had come loose and was coily. 
You took a bunch of pins out of your hair and it all came down loose but still somewhat coiled...all deep tones of brown with some lighter brown highlights in it.  You picked up a large brush with a pearly handle to arrange your hair but there came a knock at the door.  You breathed in restlessly but sat the brush down...and in closeup, I can see your nails were painted a similar pearly tone as the brush.
The dream cut to the hall and you opened the door where I was standing there.  I was seeing the dream as if it was from over my shoulder.  You said something like, "I wondered when you'd show up," and you stepped to the side to let me in.  It was kind of a sweeping move because you had to grab the dress and fold it back...the creasing was itself very sensuous in the dream because the light shined in such a way that the shadows were deep.
You went back to the mirror and sat in the chair, picked up the brush and handed it to me over your shoulder.  I looked at you for a second or two and you looked over your shoulder and inclined your head to the side (a quick "go on" move).  then I took the brush and proceeded to comb your hair.
There was what seemed like several minutes of me combing your hair...softly and quietly.  You didn't talk to me and I didn't talk to you.  Most of the time your eyes were kind of far off.  I remember thinking (in the dream) when I brushed the hair back on one side that the curve of your jaw where it meets the neck and then down to your shoulder where those bones create a natural open space (what is that area called?) was very sexy.
You smelled like powder and sweat and some other subtle scent, a perfume I suppose.  Which sounds like it could be gross but was not in the least.  In the dream it was appropriate and very...you is the best word I can find for it. 
Then the dream just went hazy or I've forgotten what happened next.  I do remember something about running out a door into the rain to get into a cab.
Extremely vivid.  It still feels like I could close my eyes and be there even as I type this.
That's it. 



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