Wednesday, 26 February 2014

On the topic of departure while on departure

I used to think, "This is where I leave you -"

after the last shop closes,
behind the Russian hum of traffic,
by the tactfulness of non-speech.
The departure is easier
when contact is a grazing of the skin
or a glance (or two.)

Everything happens around silence.
The echo of your feet softens
as the distance between you and me grows
and the slump of your shoulder
is no longer as timid.

Everything happens around silence.
Your hands know less of shaking
and you are neither the wonder of words
nor of the world, anymore.

Everything happens around silence.
My feet know less of following
and yours can only walk faster.

Everything happens around silence -
everything but the departure.

Friday, 31 January 2014

Dance Lessons

The spring of her feet
defies mortal laws.
There is nothing
more beautiful than her flight.

What does she do
with no wings, no magic?
Around her waist,
a halo of hard tulle.

She says they hurt -
the curl of her toes,
the bend of her feet,
the arch of her back.

So I told her once:
I would like to know
your pain. Hold me fast
against the pull of the earth.

Saturday, 4 January 2014

Haiku, Book Five

Resolutions -

Retire before twelve.
The clock is warier now,
 as is the teacher.

Worry not about
what you know has remedy;
Remedy your face.

Exit four corners.
"Well, are you still a pussy?"
Two K-fifteen asks.

Open mouth for words,
open eyes for clarity,
open mind for growth.

Open self to all.
There is still room in the Church
for another saint.


Hello, everyone! I have reached the point where I am rid of almost all compulsion to write about (the events in) my life (id est, blogging), which, although might actually be exciting this year, has become a bit too homogenized. I have to say, though, that I have some creative projects lined up until June so I am pretty stoked (none of which merit my academic profile but college is not making me smarter anyway.)

With this, I am going to stop "blogging" and am shifting to a literary and informative purpose. This means that all content in Snap, Crackle, Pop! from here on until an indefinite date, probably my death, will be fictional prose and features on artists, music, and other pretentious things people who pop Mollies talk about. Is it safe to say that this is "maturing" - getting bored with yourself?