Head to the beach

And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,
Love itself shall slumber on. - P. Shelley

Minnie Forrester

It was not out of character for her to go for long periods in silence. No one quite understood. 'Does she have anything to say all?' was a question few were able to part with. Her parents questioned her sanity. I however recognized that sometimes that which is felt with greatest emotion is perhaps least able to communicate.

I Asked For Water

(diary excerpt) March 29, 1848: Our day's adventures were hindered by the disturbance in flow of the Niagara waters. Those who were present, witnessed the oddity of nature and ascended upon the former natural wonder with impromptu fluidity, only to find what had become no more than a large slab of limestone. I reckon, to the onlooker, the scene would have resembled a colony of penguins milling about. Needless to say, our canoes were far too fragile to be made use of.

For a frightful night is best spent asleep...

"The first time I saw you, I knew it could never last, I'm not half what I wish I was."

"A morning glory at my window satisfies me more than the metaphysics of books."

In honour of Walt Whitman (May 31, 1819 - March 26, 1892)

A poet, in its truest sense, is not simply someone who writes poetry, but someone who embodies poetry. - Yeaursuth, Wormmle. Yellowknife, Yukon, Canada. 1900.

Go off to sleep in the sunshine

If u slipped into a coma during that dream you would have lived the most wonderful life...

Life of Luxury

If all clockmakers were to suddenly vanish from the earth, we’d better hope our watches don’t break! - Cliffroy, Thompson. Forth Worth, Texas. 1935.

And They Came From Outer Space

"Someone told me about
Taking the easy way out,
But it's all relevant I suppose.

It's not a fault of mine
That I waste time,
Waiting for someone like you.

I got cracks on my face
That people pretend they don't see,
But that don't make no difference to me.

Coffee on a rainy day
Helps the time waste away,
Talking about some movie I didn't wanna see."

A vaulted romance is best to be left alone, for the lover's seemingly innate clichés are forever preserved, while the spark which ignited them may be long since obscured. The droning hush of the street, provided by the credulous whims of a modern age now past, wades through the ravine, through the branches of trees, still stripped of their credibility, at the dawn of spring. - Sebastian Drake

"I play it with my feet!"

(Schoenberg at the table)

"You're caught in tonality," screams Gustav. "Trapped. Tonality is a game. All of them are. You're to old. You'll never move beyond the game, to the Row. The Row is enlightenment." (Gravity's Rainbow, Pynchon)

Makin' Beef Jerky

"A banker is a fellow who lends you his umbrella when the sun is shining, but wants it back the minute it begins to rain" - Samuel Langhorne Clemens...?

Stay alive baby, do it for Van Gogh

Waiting Ones

A cactus waiting for rain
A child waiting to complain
A needle waiting to be thread
A sentence waiting to be read
A sleeper waiting to awaken
A perfectionist waiting to be mistaken
A door waiting to be opened
A collector waiting for a token
A stoplight waiting to turn green
A ghost waiting to be seen
A candle waiting to be lit
A hook waiting to be bit
A shoe waiting to be worn
A fetus waiting to be born
A piece of glass waiting to shatter
A nihilist waiting for something to matter
A cup waiting to be filled
A victim waiting to be killed
A fugitive waiting to be caught
A lightbulb waiting for a moth
A car waiting to crash
A fire waiting to be ash
A patient waiting for a doctor
A elder waiting in a rocker
A telephone waiting to ring
A performer waiting in the wing
A waiter waiting for a tip
A runner waiting for a chance to sit
A balloon waiting to rise
A knot waiting to be untied
A salesman waiting to be paid
A hooker waiting to get laid
A picture waiting to be framed
A traveller wishing he had stayed.

Dedicated to D. Swartz (1444 -1498)

What's the use of talking?

More often than not, it is those who must speak that have the least to say.
- Burtrangle, Albert. Cologne, Germany. 1914.

Highway Kind

My days, they are the highway kind
they only come to leave
but the leavin' I don't mind
it's the comin' that I crave.
Pour the sun upon the ground
stand to throw a shadow
watch it grow into a night
and fill the spinnin' sky.

Time among the pine trees
it felt like breath of air
usually I just walk these streets
and tell myself to care.
Sometimes I believe me
and sometimes I don't hear.
Sometimes the shape I'm in
won't let me go.

Well, I don't know too much for true
but my heart knows how to pound
my legs know how to love someone
my voice knows how to sound.
Shame that it's not enough
shame that it is a shame.
Follow the circle down
where would you be?

You're the only one I want now
I never heard your name.
Let's hope we meet some day
if we don't it's all the same.
I'll meet the ones between us,
and be thinkin' 'bout you
and all the places I have seen
and why you where not there.

-TVZ

The Individual

One should never identify with anything other than oneself.
- Scheble, Ralph. Chicago, Illinois, United States of America. 1981.

When in doubt, everything turns

Just because a thing can be rationalized does not make it rational.
- Torpelle, Mip. Brittany, France. 1952.

Canvas

One does not truly begin to live until they become an artist.
- Fauvet, Helg. London, England. 1889.

Requiem for an Insomniac's Loss

Few songs I put together, over a little while, on the same themes.
http://www.mediafire.com/?axwzdz1adex

Let the future tell the truth

I think I want to time travel, I think I’m ready.
- Piflin, Røver. Geneva, Switzerland. 1910.

Sea Within a Sea

It is easiest to find what you are looking for when you know who you are.
- Alstoph, Matin. Athens, Greece. 86 BC.

One Day You'll Love Me

A modern tale of the vicious lust for love, the maudlin and the beautiful.
Dreams of walking in a solemn procession, for the sake of boredom, oh the things you'll say. The dust on the record, Debussy's Suite Bergamasque, cracks and seems to snap back at me. The acrid smell of dust which had accumulated over time on the album sleeve irritates my eyes. I resolve, I fuck with the rotations per minute for the sake of boredom, oh the things i'll do. It's raining outside, but it's sunny inside and the fridge stays cold amidst the warmth. I woke up early, why? To spend time with John and Evelyn, although I doubt the sincerity of their words. Cynical, I doubt it. Existential, probably. Vices, definitely.

Glider

The auditorium is 36,000 feet above ground
Lightheaded performers sit in chairs
With a vague sense of claustrophobia
Lacking oxygen
There is a 'no smoking' sign on either side of the narrow walls
Too many suggestions
The puppeteers are now no better than the lawmakers
But we've reached a point beyond all distinction
Who's running this show?!
The performers are called to their roles
I remove my broken seatbelt
And like a mechanic proceed with the operation
Wobbly legs
I'd feel more comfortable on a suspension bridge
I'm not alone, but i feel alone
I wish i were alone
Then i wouldn't have to deal with everyone else's emanating emotions
Which don't even distract me from my own
On the ground i was very good at what i did
But all i did was theorize...
The conductor opens the door
And we have a threshold
Our nerves turn our bones into porridge
While our parachutes anticipate their purpose
And leaning over the precipice
Nausea fills the void
Lined with a velveteen blue that slowly fades into sunset amber
The kind that pinches your fingers and soul
The back drops in the backdrop
I'm like a stone
A stones throw away from breaking a frozen house
My eyes are slits but forced to peek
And the mountain peaks do the same
They break through the cotton fields
Which we descend upon
Or them upon us I can't really tell
Eardrums thunder and the sound swallows
I demand that the wind please
STOP SNEEZING SO LOUD