Wednesday, May 20, 2015

The Teacher - Kickstarter

The Teacher

One of my greatest friends was working as a teacher in Syria when the war broke out, she's trying to gather the funds to make a film. She's a wonderful woman who is also heading a non-profit in the UK for equal rights to education. Please help! Even donating the minimum amount gets her closer to pursuing her passion and her dreams.

Saturday, May 16, 2015

Untitled


Untitled

I should be painting
But I don't understand how I do it
How I ever did it
And that scares the shit outta me

These days all I end up doing is fucking you

Maybe because what we do
is filled with beauty and love
and yearning and begging
and giving and taking
and worshiping and bliss and ecstasy
and agony
and it's dirty

It feels like Art






written '08 or '09


Shared Space


Shared Space

In the comfort of the West
people have grown up with Death
as the elusive neighbor
who lives next door
or maybe even down the block
The elusive neighbor
who every so often 
but rarely
will need to borrow a cup of sugar
leaving the sense that something
has been borrowed or taken or stolen
In other parts of the world
people do not live with Death as a neighbor
They live with Death as a roommate
What belongs to them
belongs to Death as well
and always has
That cup of sugar can't have been
borrowed or taken or stolen
Because their kitchen is Death's kitchen too
Every space is shared
Every day and every moment
Shared
When something goes missing
it is less of a surprise
The surprise is more in that it was allowed to endure as long as it was
and there is more gratitude
for the time that it was



written '08 or '09 

Here it is



Here it is

In the beginning
I thought the issue would be
that I am with God
and that you wouldn't be able to find me
It is the end
We have a week left in us
Maybe less
I was wrong
Here it is:
You don't care where I am
It doesn't matter if you can find me or not
Because you're not looking
I don't know if you ever were
In the beginning
I thought the issue would be
that you were afraid to love me
Here it is:
You never wanted to
Here it is:
I want you to
Here it is:
I do


written '08 or '09
(we made it)

Untitled


Untitled

I grow like a potato in the dark
unseeing eyes and reaching roots
seeking out good soil
searching for some earth
to curl up and sleep in
feeding upon dark dreams
as another part of me
goes in search of the light
I hope it's bright and beautiful


written '07 or '08

Death is a Woman



Death is a Woman

Death is a woman
Three times three

Death is the Maiden
Her skin a pale, bloodless white
The piercing eyes of the huntress
Cast in shadow
Her arrow aimed true

Death is the Mother
Her mouth lined with birthing pains
Her cold hands upon her swollen belly
Her womb
Filled with hungry worms

Death is the Crone
Sinking skin revealing old bones
Worn teeth grinning behind thin lips
Frail bent body
Keeping every secret

Death is a woman
that every man must kiss




written '07 or '08



Trickster


Trickster

I am not your science project
I am not your plaything
Finding words and willingness
to touch in me
does not make you my keeper
You have not created me
You see me as some malleable clay-like entity
which you have sculpted out of
silence
You are mistaken
There is substance in my silence
More so than in your viciously friendly banter
You spit daggers and polish them off with grins
Do you honestly think me so weak
and spineless to bend to you?
Do you think that being treated like shit by you would be so unique
that I would feel moved
to endure it?
I know what bad habits feel like
Every man I've ever fucked has been little more than that
I know what they feel like
and I know how to break them

I can break you so easily my dear

I learned a long time ago.


written 2007

Transformation


Transformation

I am a creature trapped in transformation
a shape of a being
bearing no definition
shape of a human
shape of a female
shape of a creature
an animal that is not
I am not
Yet I am
I am trapped between rebellion and acceptance
Stilled in rebirth by questions
Is it possible to change a world while in orbit?
If I had made the answer 'yes' I would have left long ago
Do I owe loyalty to a species?
My answers are alive
Seeding, spawning, growing, multiplying
Is the harvest a number on an ancient calendar?
Or should I eat them raw and unripe?
Would they ripped in my belly?
In my womb?
Would I give birth to a thousand answers to a thousand unknown, unasked questions
like frogs in the grass?
Does rebirth require sacrifice?
Will I have to forget to remember?
Give up what I have been in order to be what I am becoming?
Or can I keep it safe in an object
and wear it around my neck?
Will it be too heavy?
Where do abandoned I's go?
Do we trade them unconsciously?
Our cores shedding and donning them like shiny new skins?
Will this new creature desire to wear one 
or will it somehow walk upon the earth with the glowing bones and guts and flesh
of a soul exposed?
Honesty so pure, transparent:
"This is the true I. What I am made of is luminous, and so never afraid of the dark."
When I am that, and only that
where will I be?
What will I be?
Only me?
Will I dwell in the sky or in the sea or anywhere at all?
Would I become something intangible like an intuition?
Or would a sound still be required,
an utterance or an echo?
Or would I float or buzz or hum
in silence so that hairs of others stood at world's end?
Would this new creature command fear or love
and would it be alone or have others?
Where would such creatures dwell?
How would they live?
Would we feel closer or farther away
from unseen destinations?
Or would distance have any meaning
at all?


written September 2007

I spy with my little eye something beginning with H... #HarryPotter #potter #bookstagram #books #packing #moving #instablog #tommarvoloriddle #tomriddle #iamlordvoldemort #lordvoldemort #darklord #horcruxes #horcrux #nerd


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