Sally squanders bits of youth on the dance floor
like a tit in a trance, boogying towards death without resistance,
her body quivers and twitches in a lovely meaningless despair,
she is digging for truth. Intangible and eternal.
Her beauty is in the moment; a transient luminiscent energy firing up her atoms in an electric storm.
Last night, a god dreamt about me,
and I saw myself in the flow of his dream.
Amidst the vortex of thunderous thoughts,
the eye of creation was ever watchful.
It was a moment of intense gratification and heightned love,
for this sublime higher being had a spot for me in his consciousness.
I was the red wine stain on the cosmos’s wedding gown.
The universe was festive and I was bold and depraved,
wildly engulfing myself in the brightest stream of light.
I had not a care. I was a mere fabrication,
thereby disengaged from any morale obligations.
Far from the grasp of gravity and
the vicissitudes of a life rooted in a consensual reality,
i stemmed from the dream instead and
bloomed in vivid space.
I was
Aghast-marasmic
no
more.
You leave me alone in your apartment,
I feel dented, swindled, and hanged up like the abstract painting on your wall.
I wrap your white bed sheet around my neck , it holds better than your words… when you pretend to see Me as larger than life; you’re so snug ego-boosting me, and like an ailing puppy I need you.
I fidget from wall to wall wearing your leather shoes and your tshirt, big enough to get lost in and forget that I am who I hate the most…
I am wearing a suit today.
I have hidden my tits inside this prim blouse as if to say ” I will not f$$k my way up.” I am a professional. My foot is inside the door, I am cut-throat. Look out. I discarded my soul a long time ago along with my college boyfriend; the sanctimonious sod.
I was raised by a feminist when feminists weren’t simply thought of as lesbians( bless them), ugly loud men-hating frigid bitches. There was a time when feminists were women seeking a fair and better place under the sun. Today, even half naked skeletal creatures call themselves feminists eventhough they have relinquished their brainpower and conformed to a distorted image of what a woman is supposed to be. I am no exception; I have assessed myself by counting all the body parts at their market value ( my ass is moderately tight, my face palatable, my brain fully functional but the extra pounds, the somewhat sizable breasts, and the average height are a deal breaker) . My brain as my only asset, I have optimized, kept my feminity under tabs and let my soul go. Now, I am a successful career woman. My name is modernlady, I am a feminist failure, and a kickass cunt. Bite me.
For the first time I really wanted to be alive, and so I was alive jumping up on my bed on a terrible rock song I said to myself the universe and the burning chaos ” let me stay alive.”
It was beautiful pain and I was afraid of feeling it and losing it, the glow my feet on the ground, and all surfacing realities. And so I called my mother and said ” I died today,” she cried a soft cry. The wound was already there, I won’t seek forgiveness.
From my parents I was born, without intentions of gentleness or devotion. I took and took without merit or malice. They were gods and I was a restless child.
I was born, but never really alive. And now that I am finally alive, I feel like I am dying for the first time.
spring’s breath,
on my old wounds, flowers bud
branches lean
seeded clouds my roots shower
but the desiccate feeling lingers
thrusting me further into the ground
selfish love green green again
la mauvaise vie a ses charmes
under this new skin
the sap crystallizes
leaves fall
at the mercy of a season,
a soil, and
a sky too singular.
The little sexy bee glances and averts
her brown eyes in measured shiness-
her skin bounces honeyed light,
and we feel moth
drifting in a hot midsummer night.
You spread out my bones on the church’ s floor, and cry I did not do. You heard the future whisper, and left me alone in the shadows; you stole my sparks, and burn I do not do.
Yet there you are … knees knelt, teareyed and candles lit, looking back at me when all I want is to forget you.
You have pulled me in by the last thread, I shall no longer watch you ebb at the break of the day. Or wonder in sadness as you turn me into a dagger for your heart to stab.
Across the frontier of you and I, beyond memories and darkness, I shall light up into a thousand of fires and plane over your sins and virtues.
What time collects may be a trivial dissection of my erratic life- but there is no coincidence to the second or to the leaching misery it disburses- stingy and slow- that I may not even scream a havoc or claim outlandish horror.
Sum up the hours and bear the loathsome sight- the big picture is a crash scene. Count and check if we can assess and gather our lives under a same disheartening label; a human experience ?
Heaven or hell who cares? The worm is a coming, yet all I can do is eat my boots and the laces too. I should have just latched onto the void of inexistence, but nobody said it was going to be this way…
I could travel from your heart to mine, engross myself in a decadent passion, even learn how to flatter and tickle your little heart already dressed up for a flirt stroll. Smother and disappoint you over and over.
Love comes over me like a disease, so run before I get to you. I bring with me a deluge. Spit and let go, i am already on the ground. Rabid souls scream to the wind their rage, but I lay my fury at your feet- leave before it buries you.
Do not cry or laugh as you go, I am not so humble or stupid. I know I am not the only one. You can always run with the herd or join the pack. I envy the space they give to lies; i can’t mimic a moo or show you shinny fangs. I can only fall with raindrops.
The curve of your eyelashes undresses the god in me and folds me into sinewy layers of desire and then … You grin at my discomfort. Damn you.
The sea, my faithful lover, undulates my genuine fear and resentment towards shellfish and sharks.
Madness contours your supple lips stifled only by the last unsorted uneased thought-duties to humaness and civility – mother forgive me I am a mere beast behind a faltering rampart.
Yet, how your thoughts echo mine in the dark gets to me, like a cluster of cosmic woes crowding and questionning my purity…
While my gaunt silhouette waltz with your light in a bottomless silence, I believe I can see the summer end and myself with exactitude.
What is in a dream, that I should dream awake, breathlessly and sorrowfully? I who has yet to live.
Days push me around and each second weighs in on me- judging the flicker in my eye- I am not a woman of substance.
I have fallen in love with many a dead men… Oh how they light up the beat room of my existence !
They do not cringe at my awkward aura, twist my thoughts into ugly monsters, or laugh when the earth buries me.
When poverty rides my back, they borrow light from the sun and salt from the sea so that I may stand straight.
They make me believe that even if nothingness ruptures inside, the universe may still breath through me …
the light came
he left the house
creaks and leaks following him
scared to her eye balls,
his wife pinned a halo on his hair
hoping to turn him into a better man
the run down city leapt through him
he flew away over the old railroad tracks
thinking, “am I right, am I alright?”
bindweeds caught me hypnotized
lost in mild self hate
warm beer warping my taste buds
leaving an aftertaste vision
the adult child daddling her fear
unable to dodge the bullet,
or give her mother her youth back
Of course hope covers us
of course mercenary love lacerates us
of course music rocks our drownings
of course madness grasps us in the middle of these struck down people
of course sobriety reflect a certain elegance
of course silence unseams souls guilty of having
created nothing, not even a plastic toy to last an eternity
However when you have no one not much is real, not the
city lights, dirty water or paycheck in your pocket
When you have no one,wings spread in loneliness at the top of a bridge
Even if
beauty cannot heal the hand that bleeds
in self-helplessness
a compass cannot delineate the reach of
self-conflict
I cannot wear the skin I am in
with a red lipstick smile
Do not leave me behind
Even if
high heel shoes make the world taller
hateful eyes spin their dark
love loses elasticity and heart
Do not make me so old
Day by day, I’ll grow new leaves
I’ll change into a
a sturdy existence for someone else to lean on
As I sit on my bed, I am barely dreaming
my blood mounts, but my face has changed
I was unhappy as a child
I was unhappy as a teenager
as an adult, all I have left is potential
for unhappiness, I have grown up
joy hits me with the 3rd bottle of wine
The sun rose again
I called on the Bodhisattva to carry my weight
the fanfare sickened my heart
with its volatile emotions
and I forgot my name.
Bathroom’s scribbles
Jena has got siphillis
Alice h.e.a.r.t.s Jack
L is a fat lying b#&*
politik suks.
Incontinent unhygienic bastards
with their pink blue black ink
let their minds defecate over bathroom walls and doors
The stench of the 21rst century emotional discharge
permeated my skin
and I lost my mind
Puppies scrambling for existence
their blood growing thinner and toxic
screaming at each other
fucking looser
retard
fag
The sun hid again
the Matryoshka doll sounded out my soul,
and called me shallow
real flowers lie low, she said,
true worms rage down below the trash can
and I broke the mold.
He should have joined in
with their circumstantial hellos
and uncircumcised halos
a circle of unwholesome crops
even hungry crows dare not
scavenge through their ripen tortuous minds
My highschool geography teacher,
with the emotional temperature of the antarctic,
the bareness of a desert,
an unrotating mind of exactly 2 seasons
(the first season raining abuse:physical and mental violence
the next season, creepy niceness punctuated with creepy smiles)
and a sens of self-worth bigger than all planets combined,
was a true psychopath,
the sort of psychopaths who roam the halls of catholic schools
intent on scarving students into mini jesuses,
on infusing into their minds the turn-the-other-cheek teaching
except that everyday is the Passion
they cannot sustain it
they are weak in faith and rooted in sin
they were not born out of virginal conception
Still they long for different verses,
compassion and salvation.
He should have sought the pig that would carry his demon
he should have kept still, for the trumpet has yet to sound.
love drew my wings into life
so that I may fly higher in the cage
yet,sadness moves heavy and fast
encroaching on my movements
let tears fall the sorrow out
let the day come out, and
bit the fog of its tail
so that I may brush up against the sun
and scatter through infinity
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boobies humongous
jumping out of your new monitor
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Huge prospects one click a way
all promises cheap or free
stirring up inside out of sheer anticipation
uploading my mind with new greed and strict habits of size/self-remodeling
(earn zillions from home, finance a hungry child with less than a quarter of a cent,
and learn how to spend thousands on chasing the bodyfat away)
why wait ?!
empower the cinderella within
the hell with the frog prince, you deserve the shoe, the white horse (buy one, get second half off).
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Leave me the hell alone
quit perousing through my brain cells
I maxed out on all my dissatisfactions
All I require is a diet pill for the out-of-control* self-awareness
( out-of-control <= self-awareness;
vicious circle c Restrictions;
Thus, I am a rambling fool)
Keep your damn free* worlds,
I will settle for a fatter ideal.
While I am walking, tripping on the street
look my way (I am addicted to your promises)
strike me with your lightning bolt
so grace may echo on this unhooking heart.
Budha and the sacred tree,
(were they ever alive …unharmed, unhaunted?)
I come unbound
Even when returns sorrow scratch the moon and the stars of heaven,
I am in love with life.
I never needed to win
being on top of things was too uncomfortable
yet there was the possibility of life
at the back of my mind.
The person I wanted to be
standing across the street, waiting for the green light
was so real.
While engrossed in nervous greed to make his smile mine,
worry sucked the glow out of my soul
I lost sight of all things true
Something is happening without me,
with the friends left behind
the dreams I dreamt
the children starving in far away lands
The sunlight has me recoiling inside myself
looking for the perfect escape
but it is nothing important or new,
only little sharp pains
to enjoy rainy days,
coins lying down on the pavement,
and fruits a bit too ripe.
If someone asked what life is about,
I would say things small
[cheese or roses like
aromatically nice or genuinely sharp]
most of the time
a huge blur
a poignant question
a horizon or a ceiling with your soul stuck
Just let the cork go free
pour the wine down the throat
laugh, gurgle and spit
your desires away
Rain falls a miracle
the learned ones green or old wheeze sneeze a drop against my psyche,
the old friend, throbbing incoherent nibbling on the Rorschach test
and I see
lightnings and thunders livening the night
bats and butterflies colorful and dark
music dancing through her
myself eaten up by a spinach quiche.
In my new old apartment, German roaches roam unconquered
some days, I wake up with a few rounded up beneath my belly,
little freeloading bastards,
how about a bottle of red? maybe some pinto beans instead
to cover up the uneasiness born out of our relationship -
my kicking maternal instinct.
But motherhood is a many-splendored thing, for
tomorrow, the little darlings will die.
The Landlady promised.
Tonight, the little one is by the window,
still and fragile
the rain tap dance against the glass
I can taste the metal
How we all fit, big small discontinued
scattered and invisible.
one phone call, the universe’s landlady
nice and demure will send out her control team
and off the pest go. Welcome the spinach!
I was born refined and pure
I was born refused and denied
All in all I was born, memories full
The sun hardened my form, while the moon pulled me round
Do not shake me too hard
deep within, I carry sounds of firing guns, mortars and tanks
loud and heavy.
Give me time to grow up and understand the haste to kill and
the ethnic difference in my thirteen year old body-
wounded and agonizing in the open grave.
Rage and fear squeezes my soul,
dulled and sullied
What to make of all this sorrow? and the night slipping inside me
such as a scabious dog to which stones are thrown
and seeks to die further away in a ditch.
So that war may leave me,
I would have liked to become aerial
run away and float under a sun that wouldn’t blush my cover
But, the void does not color, only the moon that nothing
disgusts shine through the living slum.
When the wind comes and blows the dust off me
the pain will finally be gone
So let us not mourn together anymore
all that will never be,
all that howls breathless and alone through the night.
I am back, such as the unfaithful wife returns after deserting her home,
humble and small
I have gone to sea and come back with my head on my hand
Almost slain, almost loved
I can only confess half of my sins and wish I had sinned more
Both world and home move on and over my dislodged limbs,
expanding in words and invisible shapes.
I confess I resent you half as much as I love you
Having loved only two people in my life, all of you included,
I have certainly returned just as sane.
Let’s look together for the crest of our youth
Helsinki’s crinel, neither green nor gray
dancing into the winter’s wind.
Our parched skins seeking barmaids and wine carafes
cheap and full.
Nailed to the bar, we consummed our moons
whirling in the night.
Shattered and lost among the familiar alleys
we jumped on the wet pavements
dredging for gold.
You walk past the solid lines, saying
‘Come what may.’
So, when the universe cuts us into puzzle pieces
Don’t go around asking for the bigger picture.
When darkness unfolds and tidies up the sky
only few dead stars will be left shining
So, don’t go around asking yourself,
’wasn’t I born exactly like the best of them ?’
There maybe something greater at work
Something bigger than our bond
Something loveless and eternal feeding on our
Disillusionment.
