White Nights, Dostoevsky

"For, after all, you do grow up, you do outgrow your ideals, which turn to dust and ashes, which are shattered into fragments; and if you have no other life, you just have to build one up out of these fragments. And all the time your soul is craving and longing for something else. And in vain does the dreamer rummage about in his old dreams, raking them over as though they were a heap of cinders, looking in these cinders for some spark, however tiny, to fan it into a flame so as to warm his chilled blood by it and revive in it all that he held so dear before, all that touched his heart, that made his blood course through his veins, that drew tears from his eyes, and that so splendidly deceived him!"

-Dostoevsky, White Nights

letterstogethermakeprettywords

i'm writing words
words of writing
words of fighting

what are these words?
sometimes alive
sometimes dying

what are these words?
words are speaking
words are leaking

loose words
tight words
wrong words
right words

what are these words?
steering left
steering right
never seem to be just right

only to you these words
mean something

only to me these words
are nothing

these are just words
just words I am writing

Dr. Seuss is a Genius

Oh, the places you'll go

Do you dare to stay out?

Do you dare to go in?

How much can you lose?

How much can you win?

And if you go in, should you turn left or right…or right-and-three-quarters?

Or, maybe, not quite?

You can get so confused that you’ll start to race down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace

Headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.

The Waiting Place……for people just waiting.

Waiting for a train to go, or a bus to come, or a plane to go, or the mail to come, or the rain to go, or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow, or waiting around for a Yes or a No

Or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants,

Or a wig with curls

Or another chance...

-Dr. Seuss

sun shine

that's me reflected in your sunglasses,
hair all crazy
smiles all wavy

that's the kite flying above us both,
keeping a distance
staying a float

that's sunshine pouring out of our eyes
that's sunshine pouring down from the skies
that's the ice-cream dripping down the cone
all over my hands
that's the funny looking hat
on the funny looking man

i know your leaving but let's just say
you can call me if you ever have a rainy day
I wouldn't trade our fun in the sun
with nothin' else
nowhere
no one

pink & blue

Impulses run through deeper veins
No time for clean-up
They generously leave lover-stains

Kind of like Pollock's paintings
Splattered all pink and blue
Like the ones you often tell me "move" you

Impulses aren't strong
But neither are the weak
Often leaving a picture
Of a future so bleak

They only come to go
But they leave us much
Taking away certainty
Giving us back a dated crutch

Impulses are generous
Just like you

You see you're just an impulse
Tattered all pink and blue

You steal serenity
Always so unsure
and in return for peace-of-mind
You hand out the cure

A paragon of perfection
What a beautiful mess
They leave you lonely
They leave you distressed

They have no mercy
They leave you thin

And just like you
Impulses stand on fragile limbs

Trust me

You and your impulses are more easily broken than you know
Try to undo the damage,
and then it will show

Like everything, your impulses beat you
time and time again

If you could see the power they hold over you
You wouldn't trust them, my friend.

Let It Show

Let it show, let it grow, nobody has to know

The quicker i do it, the more it comes out right
Some things just aren't meant to be kept up-tight
The more you let me, the better it sounds
Instead of us going round and round

And round and round and round we go
The more i think, the less I know
The worse it feels, the less it shows

The longer you ponder, the longer you wander
Hello, HELLO!
You're doing it all the wronger

The less i think the more i know
The more I know, the less it slows

The less it slows, the quicker i do it,
Somethings
You gotta just get right to it

Let Go

She walks across the lawn
Into the dusk
Out of the dawn
Holds tight feathers of the past
Lets them go
Sails behind the mast

What is this paragon of perfection?
She asks staring into the sun
In it's entirety
She sees a reflection
and thinks
"This is starting to feel fun"
Looking away, she squints to re-adjust
In this new vision she begins to trust
Within this complexity
She finds herself enamored
Putting a face to the name
It feels like home, she finally won.

At last, she thinks of broken wings
And for the last time,
She remembers how it stings.
Only after she has let it all go
She finds the face to this name
and decides to let the wind blow

To Ishvara

I hear the drip
and it sounds like shit
they tried to hide it
but it slipped
from broken hearts and mangled spaces
What is this drip that makes me so sick?
it fills up all the incomplete places
and feeds the virus of worn out faces.
without a warning
the drip leaves its traces
and falls into our devastated graces

That is the drip that makes me so sick.

Abundantly

you'll never live life
abundantly
i don't think you'll ever really see
that what you think you really need
is just a ploy for a mothers good deed.

i tried to help you in your ways
and re-align the track
in your dizzier days

i tried so hard
expended all the words
that would allow you to understand
the damage you've incurred

but you called me abstract
and that
was that

you said i was a good writer.
but that was that.

i tried to show you in those days
when you were moving through a maze
that its not worth seeking someone else's dream
when they get to be the fabric
and your just the seam

i let your sorrow fill my pages
i figured that natural causes would kill it,
as it ages
blood, sweat, infinite tears
we just lost all the years

you'll never live life abundantly
and this I promise
you will see

omnipotence

i know i make it easy to love me/
i know i make it harder to love you.

i know i make it easy to trust me/
i know I make it harder to trust you.

i know i make it easy to hear me/
i know i make it harder to hear you.

i know i make it easy to want me/
i know i make it harder to want you.

i know,
i know,
i make it harder to want to.

i know i make it easy to believe me/
i know i make it harder to believe you.

i know if life was easier to push through/
it wouldn't mean a thing for me to live through.

Dear Em (Pt. 2)

Appreciate life
you're alive
you're alive

don't
don't
don't complain
that he left you
you're mad
you're confused
so you cry
so you cry
and it hurts

don't
don't
don't
complain
about pain
pain
pain that he left you
fuck him, he left you
you're lonely
you're afraid
so it hurts
so it hurts
and you cry


don't
don't
don't complain
that you're sad
you're sad
he left you
you're lost
you're afraid
so it hurts
and it hurts
and you cry

some people dont feel
they cant feel
what's real

some of those people don't care
they don't care
that they're there

some of those people
can't even cry
they cant cry

some of those people
have no choice left
so they'd rather die

some of those people give death a chance
just to feel that they're alive

On the Tip of My Brain

I'm standing on the tip of my brain/
one foot firmly planted on the ledge,
the other is dangling over the edge
in vain/
I'm balancing between the thought of knowing what I'm saying,
and on the ground I'm staying
or the fear of falling off,
the fear of not knowing how I'm playing/
i really don't know how I'm playing
this game.

Dear Em (Pt.1)

8pm.
She's a quiet desperation,
lonely, impatient.
A mess without consolation,
Running into herself,
over
and
over
the Queen of abdication.

The crown she tossed into the sea of frustration
The crown she lost to the sea of self-mutilation.

She's so full of empty,
sometimes it hurts to try resuscitation.
Sprinting for the bridges,
lest to find them in dis
association.

Insincere in determination,
insufficient heaves and throws
and bottomless blows
to capitulation.
She's dishonest;
She's afraid;
Ignores all intuition

Still,
Our little Pearl of habituation
found her throne in the chaotic
speckled,
dangerous,
whirlwind of disintegration.
And there she goes
she goes
she goes

Still,
The crown she tossed into the sea of frustration,
is the crown she lost to self-mutilation.

William Blake

"To see a world in a grain of sand and heaven in a wild flower, hold infinity in the palm of your hand"
-William Blake

أنت حياتي

Let's
draw
a
line
From
your
heart
to
mine


and
if
and
when
we
break from
this
spine
at least
we'll find
our way back
over time.

Friends, and Other Things

Smile

The robbed that smiles steals something from the thief.

-Shakespeare

To Play or Not To Play, Is the Question

there is nothing or no one telling you what to do, it's all up to you.

vibrato or no vibrato, you decide.

so the right answer? the most accurate decision?
it's what you make it to be,
there's no external influence, no 3rd party involved.
it's just you
the bow
and C-G-D-A.

the most beautiful move is the one that you want.
it's what you feel.
it's what you know.

that's what music is, it's what we know to be true to us, every step of the way.
it's a variable expression of who we are, ever changing and always in harmony with us.
because we picked the notes, the pitch, the arrangements.
it's our baby.

you give a song life, and just as easily,
you take that life away.

it's not arbitrary, it's completely planned out.
it's mapped out for us in our past, our histories, the places we've been, the people we've met.
the music we make, the sounds that are each individually worthless but yet together so purposeful and necessary.

it's what you want and no matter how hard you try, you can't get rid of what you want.

it always finds a way to creep back up into your life and scare the living shit out of you.

Ablaze

A Mary