Wednesday, October 26, 2016
obvious analogies

the important part
was when she was there
waking up cupping
a bottom
or a bosom
i turned the music on
to something familiar
probably just a little
melodramatic
opened the bottle and sat
this city has so much
seating
and to sit
even just for a couple
of minutes
read as: years
while
letting your senses
get away from you
read as: adapt
is enough to be reminded
of your place
the sirens and helicopters
the coastal wind
traffic
the buzz and hum of
the electric ghosts
at 2 am
just cold enough
to keep the mountains
visible
this time of year
it's all worth it
to live here and deal
with knowing that
the magic is the minutia
and that
the minute by minute
here
means that
i'm already being raped
or shot or
otherwise violated
by being here
and knowing that
her bottom
and bosom
are far away
and that
finding comfort
is the same as
finding atheisim
when you have faith

Posted at 07:48 am by coldapathy
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life everlasting

i could buy anything
you ever wanted and
couldn't ever afford

said the rich man


i could even buy life

not my life, sir

said the quiet little man


i could certainly!
at the cost of another
i could buy a man
to take your life and
all it's worthlessnes

the rich man decreed

you would never find it

said the small man

continuing, i heard him say

it doesn't live in one
place, but in everyone
i've ever met
i've given them all life
my life, a bit at a time
i am the infinite, sir
and i'd gladly give
whatever part of my life
you wish

the rich man thought
then pulled out a gun
and shot

Posted at 07:47 am by coldapathy
tell me  

a little song and dance.

sitting in a setting
in silence
forming the right words
to explain the feelings
that aren't strong enough

anymore

to ellicit a response
from fingers
grown numb from too much

whiskey

and being dipped

into crevaces
that only mask
the lonliness

after the movies
and all the other songs
that hit the heart
when the lighting is

just right
or rather

is lacking
just enough

and now stuck
behind a counter
trying not to feel
as though life has taken
away the feeling

like we had grown
to understand
that the only thing

that comes

from keeping promises
and being brutally

ourself

and doing whatever
we could

to care

is a good credit score

we dug a hole
that can't be filled
with anything other
than pain

there used to be words
and stories
even if there wasn't

feelings

and now we feel
so damned grown up
and even
in the midst of the apathy

there was something

stirring

that gave

something

that had some kind of
rhythm and rhyme

and there used to be music
flowing through fingers
and in hearts
and suddenly
surrounded
rather than enveloped

first day of my life
follow you into the dark
in your room

and all the songs
that threaded the needle
that stitched us together
in the first place

when we couldn't imagine
we'd ever be in a place
of this kind of distance

when a picture of the back
of her head would stab
between the ribs
so efficiently

and she was in new york
on the fourth of july
while i was drunk
asleep on the couch

Posted at 07:41 am by coldapathy
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not petrichor

the morning entered
through his lungs
they were dry and dusty
and he licked his lips
wondering if he could
justify the whiskey
in his coffee

it was dark
the sun a few hours away
the days proved
longer than he liked

she slept later
than he did
and he moved quiet
careful, precise
he'd look over at her
conflicted
but taking comfort
in the certainty
that proved itself
by the warmth
in his heart
and the definition
of family
that blanketed them
regardless
of the cold morning
or the misunderstanding

that
at least
remain fixed
something to hold to
amid the change
that circled overhead
like a condor
waiting for it's time
to descend

he sighed himself
into red eyes
knotted his hands
until the shake
in his fingers
mirrored his grip
on a trembling reality

he braced against his
stalwart spine
and closed his eyes
to censored words
in a space once wide
then somehow made
slightly caged
by the creation of a key

too old to allow
the lines
of this isn't fair
to play over more than
once
and he won't entertain
the notion
the threat
of dwelling
and so he sucks in
his breath
and bites back whatever
that waits
in the silence
he is becoming
too used to

detached, but only
because he's too close
to something
he pushes out
away
enough
the not enough
has become too much
and he hurts
is angry
scared
stifled and sicker
than he ever lets on

they forget
he let's them forget
it doesn't matter
another drink
another bowl
another haze to fade
away
he's tired
but he has so far
to go and
the farther they are
the less he cares
if he makes it or not

Posted at 07:41 am by coldapathy
tell me  




Tuesday, February 03, 2015
an unaddressed diatribe

what if gay people were natures way of more elegantly evening the numbers back down to where they should be

biological necessity naturally occurring to thin the ranks, or personal choice given traction in a liberal society of sin

either way a purpose is being served without having to kill every other female child

there have been plagues and wars and famine even in my lifetime who all could have, who in the past have, wiped out a multitude of humanity

there is always an equilibrium to be found, homeostasis amidst all the seeming chaos

even if it's a choice at least there are people who want to take care of the babies that all the straight people have abandoned, who are not running amuk creating more mouths to drain the system with

our not newly found but newly strengthened goodness is given no greater testament than that these previously destructive methods have not yet been allowed to run their course

the previous great wars and famines themselves, the plagues, have shown some of us

the hurt of living with the aftermath and all the troubles that come along - mental instability, financial crisis, perpetuated struggle - has shown others

the standard human mental evolution (self, family, organization - religion - community, state - country) has finally come to a point where we have a concept of helping all the (world) hungry, and the sick, and the downtrodden

we have come to a point where we no longer wish to use our worst weapons to prove a point, rather we stand in front of guns with arms raised

we do not live in a state of perfection, but the improvement is undeniable and here we still find the older minds gnashing their teeth and casting us all to hell, as they were promised when they were younger and never seeing beyond family, organization, and country

we have not learned yet that the simplest way to help the world is to constantly help the people around you, always, but we're getting there

three parented babies, business claiming land in space, the free market itself and all the greed it's growing pains have elicited

is it right, by universal philosophy or religion, and, if so, why

i think the answer is, yes, if only because we're being allowed to continue on making our mistakes and trying to clean up after them

no deity has come from the holy books to smite us as the holy leaders have told us. if indeed a deity exists, surely it has done exatly as it said in the texts

and has left us to our free will, and all of the causes and effects and intermingling that comes along with it

philosohically we are still following the same suggested truths, we are just sorting through details that we've never had the vision or overcrowding to see before

whether created or coincidenced, we are a cosmic experiment and, for all we know for certain, very well may be the most important place in the whole universe

why is it so hard to conceive that we are the progenerators of what could be - the monster and the creator

our holy books tell us that

our science seeks to portray that

why is it so difficult to agree that it doesn't matter if we were given first breath through a divine kiss or through a chemical reaction

when what we've learned tells us that they amount to pretty much the same thing anyway

the point is that we are breathing and creating because we were given the tools and time to do so

even though some of us have to do the heavy work, and some have to build the machines, and some have to maintain them, and some get to design them, and some deign to give them, us all, purpose

we could be the species who kicks off life in other places with nothing more than how we accidentally infect and litter

we could be the center of it all

or we could create wars so terrible, famines so great, plagues so horrendous that they over come our progresses and we are left to repeat our lessons yet again

the old adages ring true because they are original observations - thousands of years of observations no matter if you believe we've been looking for 200,000 or 5,000

by any belief standard we have still been here for thousands of years observing and making mistakes to learn from

all the while trying to find ways to pass on to younger generations all of the information so that those who are too slow to keep up with the modern lessons can find them themselves if they pay enough attention

our stories of triumphs, of abuses, loves, losses, everything

every detail passed along creates a spark in the minds of whomever hears

these sparks generate pathways, assumptions, causes and effects that our brains are constantly comparing with the things happening around it, being perceived by it

some people draw more harsh conclusions and spend their whole lives living under a cloud of perceived judgement, guilt, and fear

some people draw differently and are driven by other things in myriad magnificence and sadness

all of us have the capacity, with enough experience, to generate new conclusions and to break away from the fear that seeing things differently will damn our eternal souls

when we stop trying to see things differently we stagnate and eventually die

most likely in a pool of our of fear that the world is going to hell at the hands of everyone who wouldn't listen to us, the only intelligent persons left amongs the millenials and hooligans with their pants around the bottoms of their ass

obviously our bodies, but also our very legacy dies

not many want to or can hear the gem of truth about something important that comes from a bigots mouth in between hate speak

that does not mean having to give up on your own ethics

it means really looking, and finding ourselves in EVERYONE else

and not doing so for the sake of everyone else, but for our own selves

because the core of taking care of others is having to take care of ourselves

not just through stuffing ourselves with consumption of media and fast food, not just every vacation and self indulgence we can masturbate to

but through nurturing a sense of being surrounded by ourselves rather than secluded within ourselves

maybe religion is right, maybe god never existed, maybe gay people brought about the modern plagues, maybe they are the last line of defense against their necessity

the only way to find out is to keep going, and the only way to keep going is to keep seeing our strength

not the one demostrated with fists and violence and stemming from fear - a need for defense

but the one that demonstrates how powerful a small seed can be against insurmountable odds

or to be less metaphorical

the strength we have to love against all odds when it concerns us or our own

we are all one existence

there will be equilibrium

we can look to find it in growing to other planets and generating lifespans to take us there

or fearing it will come under the thumb of a wrathful god

with more terror, and sickness, and people living in broken huts outside the walls of cities afraid to let them in

becoming more and more willing to kill for their chance for it to matter if they are gay or adhd or depressed

or we can do so by taking care of our poorest with the same care as our wealthiest

by accepting that within the heart of every "lazy welfare parent" is someone who wanted something else before they felt too broken to strive for it

and by seeing that if we do not constantly strive to accept what we do not understand as an equally plausible truth then we become the very darkness the light has to shine so hard to break through

Posted at 11:49 am by coldapathy
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Thursday, January 08, 2015
ha ha hah.

sitting on a cold roof top
thinking of divine symmetry
the mind wonders
times gone by and all the places
i'm just sure, from here
could have been turned around
did i do my best
what does it mean to those who
may have modeled after my
example, or whatever that was
when a woman stops wanting you
what can you do
besides over provide for her
until you're both broken
and no matter what
whomever finds comfort first is
the bad guy
genderist
but sure enough i fall into a
category, or something
and all i want to do is fall into
the comforts again and again
a sucker for love
with no patience for head games
stil looking for paralells
and connections
as age brings understanding to
all those who couldn't see
the city lights twinkle
something something analogy
about the darkness of the coast
and all that is here
illuminated
the best things though are those
done to intentionally be vague
easily identified with
by everyone marketable
you realize that
well
it's hard to stand out in a place
designed to be bright and shiny
worth is a thing best found warm
because fuck what it feels like
when it's cold
or saturated with others whom
you can't compete with
you have to read
in order to write
and currently i'm blind
my body is all adrift on hopes
in symmetry where most would see
the most imbalances
it's easier to write here than
in the warm room which
only tells me what i should
whether paint or stab a wrist
i write to music just like him
bukowski
rather classical, indie emo whatever
living for meaning
will only get you killed or
otherwise just martyred
for causes you find
well
that you just didn't feel strongly
enough, for
to go through all of the torture
outside of what we feel
we have to define
who it is that we want to be
our indecisions count
so also does, probably
being stoned and drunk on a rooftop
with music of heartbreak
playing on full
while humming songs of contrition
during a life of attrition
while trying to show the difference
between a sketch and
a masterpiece
all i can say
is i'm not exactly a salesman
but i do a hell of a job
selling
before nature takes over
and i am again visible as a teller
of pretty stories
that don't matter for fuck all
because why would they
when they are only so very perfect
just for me
and so i reach for comfort
and i call it
a different name depending
on who is around
to see or read as i type
how i am dancing
fucking dancing
in a manner
whatever manner
the music that catches me
i scream babae this is it
and she says go towards it
and she says
i see now
and she says it's killin us
and i don't know
we never know, apparently
but with the oranges and blues
of an la evening
the sillouettes
and the sirens
make me the better man who would
cover you with my strong arms
and warm you with my torso
as the end of the world
got closer
and blinking int he night
los angeles couldn't care less

Posted at 06:34 am by coldapathy
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Tuesday, November 05, 2013
final boarding call

the terminal became a vacuum
though
i was still aware of her smell
it seemed to permeate my cells
she was in every facet of the moment
i couldn't loosen my hands
from around her waist
from behind her neck
when i did it would be time
to walk through security and away
in fear i held tightly
in love i knew i'd have to let go
looking in her eyes
i apologized that i'd failed
to go quite a thousand kisses deep
pressing lips to lips
i tried to get in all the last efforts
then it was time
i told her that i loved her
and that i would see her again
i let go and my hands missed her
immediately
she turned and went
i watched her through the gates
then turned and went myself

Posted at 12:48 pm by coldapathy
tell me  




Friday, September 13, 2013
analogies

she was o positive
he was o negative
he couldn't think of
a more appropriate
description
of their basic
functions
he was a horse
who could run
til his heart explodes
she was a bit of a nag
drink up baby
drink it all down
swallow the promises
and choke on the pride
claw the names
across the tomb
overshadowed
by the funeral
heres to the hearts
gone away
and all that
never wanted to stay
another round

Posted at 02:58 pm by coldapathy
tell me  

k.l.

she's too good
to be true
you'll tell yourself
as she slips
through cracks
because she
makes herself
-small-
and she'll break
all of your heart
to save you
the strain
of putting up
with her
in a polluted world
her mind and
her heart
are unpolluted
still
so she inhales
as deeply
as she can
to try and numb
the suffering
she wants
to hang on to
but grows
so weary of
the weight
of what ifs
in the face of
why bother

Posted at 02:52 pm by coldapathy
tell me  

a moment

'let me heal you',
she whispered softly
as she sat
anointing his head
with oils
and softly cooing
that it was going to be
ok
he wept in her arms
though no tears
could break through
and no sounds
were made
she understood

Posted at 02:44 pm by coldapathy
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