Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
skull & bones
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
no need for lies or false pretense
i can't get to sleep until 3 or 4 lately and i sleep til afternoon, my dreams are punctuated with unsettling pseudo-nightmares featuring people i think i know and places i have never been but that feel like old vacation homes. they're sinister and strange and slip through my fingers in the morning like dissolving salt, i'm not sure if i want to keep them or not, but if i did at least i could get over my writer's block.
so i turn to other people who don't have this affliction and whose torrent of words both humbles and inspires me but never to the point of actual productivity. recently i read a man in full by tom wolfe and continued my tradition of being mainly absorbed by fringe characters and only slightly involved in the lives of the main players. it's an enthralling behemoth of a book. i also just finished prague by arthur phillips, whom i recently discovered through the egyptologist and who has quickly become a favorite author. prague is a novel about disillusionment and the reckless, restless, lazy ways youth prevents itself from happiness by focusing only on the minor details of what might otherwise be a full, rich and maybe even meaningful life. as this has been my somewhat hazy philosophy since entering adolescence, despite the fact that i can never actually untrammel myself from these superficial binds, it was either a book i had to read - the spark to ignite blah blah blah - or another book that will destroy my willingness to put pen to paper.
not meaning for this to become a book review post, but words have been my respite this vacation, trapped as i am in a small house with many members of my extended family. i love it here, i love the inhabitation of the house and the thousands of objects crammed within its walls, the italian grandmother forcing me to eat and unaware of my peculiar dietary habits... i've taken in new york and philadelphia and a darling little jersey shore town. adding that to my seattle trip makes a nomadic may-june. a settling will occur tomorrow as i return to LA for the next months of summer and my sophomore year at USC.
wandering thoughts make for bored readers. signing off.
to be trite - remember, THE UNEXAMINED LIFE IS NOT WORTH LIVING
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
championship vinyl
Monday, March 22, 2010
Thursday, January 7, 2010
eh
just another sunday paddleboat ride
on a man made lake with another lady stranger
if i remain lost and die on a cross
at least i wasn't born in a manger
i can sense somewhere right now i'm being prayed for
seems like i always arrive on the same shore
from where my sails set maybe with one less lady
than my vessel left with, is that a threat
oh i've stayed scarce this last year yes
but be assured in unrest
i'm unavoidable like death this christmas
is this twisted why be upset
i never said i didn't have syphillis miss listless
hard like the bricks i pound my fists with
i mean she's hard like the bricks that i pound with my fists
this is the fall of mr fifths
forged for the hordes
and the ladies and lords
cept the fat cords in modern english
i know, i know
there's nothing more revealing
than the sound of high heels
down the marble tile hallways
of your distict's one allotted
city funded steiner school bilingual
or montessori followed by
a single high pitched scream
followed by breaking glass
but could your anger be mapped
into an interpretive dance
to a trip hop track
could it be bowed out on strings
or strung into a pattern
for a god's eye to bring to
your alma mater's holiday fundraiser boutique thing?
god i'm sorry, i'm just being crazy.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
reconsider
let's become gold.
let's learn to keep on goin';
and never grow old.
let's never die, oh, oh.
let's just shine, shine, shine;
all day, and all of the time.
let's become diamonds.
let's become gold, gold.
let's learn to keep on goin';
and never grow old.
let's never die, oh!
let's just shine! shine! shine! shine!
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
blatant clothing lust
just
Saturday, January 2, 2010
life:
the word is empty, trite, passé.
a portrait of a portrait,
the details lost in the faded paints.
a biological construct:
heartwaves, brainbeat -
reduced to the most basic functions,
it soldiers on in trenches and on sidewalks.
maybe old dictionaries
that smell like rusty water
hold the meaning to the words that fill our heads
and library books
with magnetized spines and scoliosis
open to the pages hasty fingers plucked at,
the passages adolescent dreamers underlined
eight- nine- ten-word sentences
of sympathy and regret
as defined in language, life is simply
another four-letter word (two consonants, two vowels)
as defined in living, life is all
but some nights driving blind down the denim freeway,
overpasses humming,
clinging to the sky,
shading the cement bandages
that stripe earth,
burned and blurry with the vestiges
of wisdom,
well,
the moonlight on the water:
maybe that's it.