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Spilled Ink 12
ÚÄ Ü Ü Ü Ü Ä¿
Ûßß ÛßÛ ß Û Û Ûßß ÜÜÛ ß ÛÛÜ Û Ü
ßßÛ ÛÜÛ Û Û Û Ûß Û Û Û Û Þ ÛÜß
ÛÛÛ Û ÛÛÛ ÛÛÛ ÛÛÛ ÛÛÛ ÛÛÛ ÛÛÛ Û Þ ÛßÛ
ÀÄ ÄÙ
Ä electronic literary 'zine Ä
*ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ*
ù ÄÄ´ volume twelve ÃÄÄ ù
*ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ*
stop plagiarism - let out your soul
Copyright 12/98
ú úùcompiled & edited by Twilightùú ú
ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ
* All literature presented herein is copyrighted by their respective authors *
In memory of those who left us much too early:
Brandon Robert Shaw (1976-1997), Keith Childress (1976-1998),
and my grandmother, Hao Nguyen (1911-1998)
þ Table of Contents þ
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
1. A Picture Of You - Ray Heinrich
2. Amber - Stephen Lush
3. Anniversary - Twilight
4. Baby - Stephen Lush
5. Banquet - Introvert
6. Block - Twilight
7. Carousel - Twilight
8. Climax - Angel Alice
9. Construct - Stephen Lush
10. Death Spell For A Departing Lover - Kate Braverman
11. Delusion Angel - David Jewell
12. Erotifest - Sweetest Infection
13. Fightin' Irish - Stephen Lush
14. Fire - Livid
15. Fish Out Of Air, Bird Out Of Water - Drucilla B. Blood
16. Go Home - Twilight
17. Haiku 01 - Twilight
18. He Hit Her - Ray Heinrich
19. Hotel Heart - Dawn Green
20. How Far Away It Was - Dawn Green
21. Hurricane - Twilight
22. I Will Not Forget You - Sarah McLachlan
23. I'll Take My Sorrow Straight - Iris DeMent & Elmer McCall
24. Illuminata - Angel Alice
25. Just Rain - Angelstar
26. L'Arbe - Dawn Green
27. Living Circumcision, or Written In Jack In The Box On 26th And
Guadalupe Early One Rainy Afternoon In Austin - Twilight
28. Lost - Twilight
29. Lovingly, He Signed - Twilight
30. Lusting For Comfort - Gavin Otukoya
31. Madness And None-So-Soft - Clotho
32. More - Stephen Lush
33. My Book - Keith Childress
34. Never There - Twilight
35. No More Summer - Twilight
36. Nonlinearunlinkage - Waves
37. Note To The Man Who Cheated On Me, Left Upon His Pillow - Twilight
38. Oh, Pleas - Stephen Lush
39. Plaster Mask - Angel Alice
40. Playmaker - Twilight
41. Rainbow Skin - Twilight
42. Raining On My Porch - Twilight
43. Ravenspell - Belasco
44. Requited Love - Twilight
45. Robots - Stephen Lush
46. Roses - Dawn Green
47. Seizons - Twilight
48. Self Portrait As A Cigarette Butt Near The Side Of The Road
- Mark Eugene Stevens/MrPoi
49. SittingMan - Stephen Lush
50. Spiderman - Twilight
51. Starry Smile, Snowy Eyes - Twilight
52. Sullen Girl - Fiona Apple
53. Suspense - Stephen Lush
54. Sweet Escape - Twilight
55. System Down - Jimmy Flynn
56. Tangerine Preserves - Twilight
57. The Last Time - Shannon Downs
58. Time To Rest - Ray Heinrich
59. Touched Me In My Trance - Ryan Bloomer
60. Twilight Or Dawn? - Gopal T. Venkatesan
61. Twilight's Child - Twilight
62. Untitled - Anonymous
63. Untitled - Bloodshot
64. Untitled - Kelli Burton
65. Untitled - Stephen Lush
66. Untitled - Stephen Lush
67. Untitled - Twilight & Marcella Garcia
68. Waiting Rain - Hilan
69. When Words Shall Mean No More - KSDark
70. Where Is The Light? - Christopher Stolle
71. Wither - Stephen W. Brodie
72. Without A License - Christopher Stolle
73. Wretched - Dawn Green
74. You Again - Mark Eugene Stevens/MrPoi
75. You Are Not Alone - Stephen W. Brodie
ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ
A Picture Of You
þ Ray Heinrich
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
old music sits
across the room from me
refusing to reach my ears
and the hole the quiet makes
becomes
a picture of you
þùúùþ
Ray is an ex-Texas technofreak and hippie-socialist wannabe who
writes poems for thrills and attention. He's always been married,
loves dogs, evolution, electronics, and industrial design. He does
not like republicans, but is willing to make an exception if you are
truly gullible and can stand bisexuals. He owns a blue fish and loves
to get comments at: <ray@scribbledyne.com>. An electronic edition of
his chapbook: "years of water" (Word Biscuit Press) is also available
free via email. Check out his site: http://www.vais.net/~heinrich/wb/
Amber
þ Stephen Lush
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
dreaming dreaming away
drowned in regret and pain
leaving myself in place,
while my mind flies free
unchained by disgrace
swamps sink under my feet
i can see my body dead
twenty too short years
i rot away my fears and guilts,
molt death's wishful grin,
the old flames and ghosts
there i am, under the swamp
purged of anatomy and form
bones and softened core
under lilypads and cat-o-nines
slowly breathing in oil and algae
and the fumes come to the surface...
mosquitos and crickets weave a harmonic beat
and the flares that glow on the swamp's edge
burn so sweet.
dedicated to Wendy Ingram (1953-1996)
Anniversary
þ Twilight
ùúùúùúùúùúù
I last saw you
a year ago today
and as I sit here,
I am wondering...
are you thinking of me
as I'm thinking of you?
do you miss me
like I miss you?
do you remember me
like I remember you?
do you love me
like I love you?
and I wonder if we'll ever
meet again,
touch again,
laugh together again...
especially if you hate me
like I learned to hate you.
Baby
þ Stephen Lush
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
somewhere there is a girl
her face stares out of a car window
her smile can smite a thousand fears
and she is waiting, waiting
a subtle half-glance
enrapture in the divine
pause to hear the person next
and impulse to look away
dancing, dancing the sun down
being more ourselves
for a few moments of joy
shooing the rust from our blood
habeus vita, dolce vita
there is that girl
with blush on her face
and a swing in her step
with lovelong pride in her silences
you can hear her singing.
somewhere there is a boy
standing at a bus stop in the morning dew grass
he feels once it comes, it will come at last
and he is waiting, waiting.
Banquet
þ Introvert
ùúùúùúùúùúù
people are talking.
so much noise,
and cluttered space,
pressing in.
(suffocate)
an elaborate work of plastic.
i am alone,
flanked on all sides,
by sweating foreign bodies.
(squeezing)
an unknown in darkened corners,
stirs to life.
see me,
within me.
probing though my eyes,
nudging my brain.
(outside looking in)
and maybe you know
why i'm smiling.
it's the one thing
that silences,
lays to waste.
read me,
like simple words,
on cheap paper,
battered on the back seat,
a dime store novel,
an invasion,
of some inner sanctum,
raped and abused,
left out to dry,
in the sweltering heat.
(blister)
perched on a desert throne,
directionless,
and ambient.
everything moves,
changes,
and i remain,
constant,
gasping,
flat on my back.
(squinting)
popcorn.
popcorn and peanuts,
and a calliope's tune.
the circus invades your town.
painted face stare,
quizzically and somehow alien,
at this blistered body,
laid out on the burning sand.
a bauble?
fleshy and unique.
their large flopping shoes,
and blood-stained teeth
tap restlessly,
hauntingly reminiscent,
of a lost childhood nightmare.
kick my head,
and move along.
kick my head.
the carnival passes.
(nightfall)
and dirt collapses.
plunging down,
to chambers dark,
dripping wet.
glistening formations,
puzzle one another,
and confound me
with riddles,
twisted hints of origin,
and little people.
tiny hands,
with tiny fingers.
tiny minds,
with large ambitions.
drill inside,
and deteriorate.
a disembodied voice
drifts in,
penetrates,
perpetrates,
snaps me in half.
þùúùþ
RIP, Jae.
Block
þ Twilight
ùúùúùúùúùú
Closed lid, concave cube,
Encased in hardened grass jelly.
Boxed in, folded down upon,
Vacuum sucks and screams begin.
Shrieking bullets bounce off padded walls -
Splice the void, scratch the skin;
Ricochet, blast away,
But aimed bullets only return from whence they came,
Target redirected to within.
Loosen the straps!
Release the restraints!
I want out, I want Sun -
Labotomize the headlock,
Take these chains, swallow the key,
And come taste my sweet black sin.
Carousel
þ Twilight
ùúùúùúùúùú
wavy silken curls
ringlets of sunshine
glistening aquamarine
seawater jewels speckled bright
flowing dampness in my fingertips
strong sleek loins
i dig my knees into his sides
fit my legs within the muscle tone
and hold on tight for dear life.
half man, half fish
this aquatic beast of Neptune
sculpted of wood, my dear Poseidon
run, glide - take me swiftly
as you swim into the night.
round and round
carving the niche amidst the air riptides
laughing with the whimsical music
the playful organ brings my delight.
but my smile suddenly turns to dismay
as the notes further space apart
in an eerie, slow melodrama.
and the air becomes still - stagnant
while the clouds push away the sun
and with a flick of his tail
and a shove of his trident
I'm sent sprawling into the sharp, jagged rocks below
'help!' I cry, to no avail
my voice vanishes into empty air
alone - no ear is listening - nor cares
wounded and broken boned
i wait for my fair prince to come back around
i wait
blood sheds
cuts infect
i cry
blood dries
bones mend
time goes by
and suddenly, the golden glow of Helios burns hot again
looking up, head raised from scarred knees
i see him - he's coming - at last
choked with tears
wobbling to a stand
my love outstretches his strong arms.
i shake with anxiety
my lips tremble with nervousness
the pounding of my heart deafens.
suck in, my breath
squeeze shut, my eyes
i turn upon my heels
my back to the trickster carousel
and stumble away.
Climax
þ Angel Alice
ùúùúùúùúùúùúù
heart racing
faster than lightspeed
acceleration beyond comprehension
guts wrenching in time to
the diastole
night shattering into a million
mad fragments of dreams
frenzy of images clawing at me,
light and dark
fucking feverishly
music screaming, shrieking,
rushing up,
pushing up
thrashing through me
torn between hell and
delirious ecstasy
thrown into the very moment
of me.
Construct
þ Stephen Lush
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
She said she loved something about him
he could never underknow what
light here light far
the brightest lights burn without heat
They knew already, they thought too much
it broke them down it led them
she paused with the cigarette
and chased it with lemonade
She claimed to have two selves
but he claimed to kill dragons
you knew by the way they blinked
something wasn't selected
They had each other's company
then they had nothing
they had each other's respect
then there was nothing
nothing but the lopsided fantasy
that anything could be
they finished their brunch
they never ate lunch
He bought her a rose
she bought wedding clothes
they clutched, burying nails
into dreams -- small but proud
he cared as much as he thought
she was cruel in the way she coughed
He rolled into the Pacific
she rocked in the Sound
one couldn't predict when he'd come home
but his return kisses came with metronome
December came and left stiff
the Saint Augustine grass
he took up old games with old friends
they couldn't let the dream fade
but success came and the time between them left
there were children
there were marks on her arm
And in June the heat rose by degrees
there were photographs of them smiling
yellow joy bending the corners.
Death Spell For A Departing Lover
þ Kate Braverman
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
We are good at opening dialogue.
It's our specialty.
That and the goodbye scene
we could recite in our sleep.
It's the middle that defies us,
the substance, the ordinary progressions
that weave events into patterns,
textures, the three-dimensional.
No. You cannot read my letters.
You cannot take your eyes off
your reflection in the mirror,
your extravagant rhetoric
and unshakable conviction
that you will always look thirty-four,
that your charm will be indelible
and bankable, like an occupation.
You sense I know your secret name.
You fear I will say it out loud
and I will. Whore.
You who live from interchangeable beds,
feeling passion a pressure
you can't deliver,
tangled in ambivalence,
trying to make love
while adjusting your silk tie,
shining your Italian shoes
spare sports jacket in the back
of your broken car.
Your secret name is whore.
You are in love with your mother.
No woman is perfect enough,
as pretty as you or her.
Know this, whore.
I am your greatest mistake.
I will hate you as the seasons turn
in August heat and sudden storms
as you drive from one woman to another,
one slice of city view after another.
You will sense this following,
this uniquely fashioned arrow,
this intangible wound that will not heal.
I am the shadow on the corner
and a certain way the neon will scratch
one window after another,
relentless and haunting.
You will come to know it,
taste it, dream it.
Me, lit from the inside,
whispering your whore name
mixing my burned mouth
with the Santana winds,
becoming part of you and the landscape.
In the smog, in the mist
in the moonlight and jasmine
digging in under your skin
in a way you will never forget.
Delusion Angel
þ David Jewell
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
Daydreamed delusion
Limousine eyelash
Oh baby with your pretty face
Drop a tear in my wine glass
Look at those big eyes
See what you mean to me
Sweetcakes and...milkshakes
I'm a delusioned angel
I'm a fantasy parade
I want you to know what I think
Don't want you to guess anymore
You have no idea where I came from
We have no idea where we're going
Latched in life
Like branches in the river
Flowing downstream
Carving the current
I'll carry you
You'll carry me
That's how it should be
Don't you know me
Don't you know me by now...?
Erotifest
þ Sweetest Infection
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
Tasting the drug that is passion
I am bleeding from excessive lust
Biting my lips and nails
A masturbatory circus in my soul
I am darkness - I am woman
Fragile only when embraced tenderly
But a steel frotification at night
Able to withstand the deepest cuts
If they force me to bleed out my fear
Bloodletting - the shedding of my skin
And finding inside that I am whole
I have caged the evil and hate
And I thrust it to you
Each time our bodies clash together
And I prey on your strange innocence
And I swallow it whole
In an alternate universe of alcoholic carnage
I find you delightfully edible when raw.
Fightin' Irish
þ Stephen Lush
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
yeah you could have had me
--probably
definitely maybe
been my dearest guinevere
to move away at the first sight
of a knight with a rose
i would have understood
oh how i would have known
to wait and wait for the pale rider
settling for the lesser,
gaining the attention of the better
it's tragic humor
that stains the dying flowers of shiftlessouls
and yeah you might have taken me
softly
--not costly
rose bed edged and milk white linen
rocking chairs that
complain squeakingly of being there
window drapes that the breeze just wakes
the scattered force field of the light
on the floor
i'd give all night
and in the day you'd thirst for more
it might feel incomplete
and some things might appear to repeat
but it makes you numb to stop
you might have even been me--
i wouldn't doubt it
you could have looked from behind my eyes
and known my every disguise
or taken residence behind my heart
and seen every road i left well-marked
well abridged books of afternoons
or when the rain drifted listlessly
from their cloud masters
how each drop hit me
and my awareness lifted to another world
of english towers and stone grey glass
and the smells of paper and wood
in the berth of the homes that left remainders
on my freshwater consciousness
yeah you might know me--
but you don't respect or touch things
that make life so unbland
you could go to a beach
and start with a grain of sand
picking up my loves and memories
in an Atlas-sized hand.
Fire
þ Livid
ùúùúùúù
Starting
with only sparks
you have grown into a
beautiful flame always
moving in your many wonderful
directions never to dismay the
eyes of your lover but to fascinate
them you incinerate the undesirable you
warm the irresistible you don't have my
heart anymore you have my soul but the glow
has gone dim it's almost gone you are gone
the darkness grows cold in the absence
of the warmth the warmth of your
beauty and I choke I cough
I gasp and I cry with
all this smoke in
my burning
eyes.
Fish Out Of Air, Bird Out Of Water
þ Drucilla B. Blood
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
(I am) in a (waking) dream and I am driving I am driving I am being
driven and the road is smooth smoother and the tires make no noise
except for that strange in-flight resonance like how when you are
driving (being driven) and the windows are closed so it is your own
universe except for here the windows are open, the breeze...the weather
is mild like early spring or late summer more early spring...there is a
fresh quality a newness to the air that makes it seem like water and
when I breathe it is more like drinking never drowning like i am in
water my element water i am swimming (being driven) and all around me
blurs i am focusing on everything at once on the whole picture so that
PARTS of the picture, the elements that make up the picture cease to
exist. I am dreaming (being driven) in a waking dream and there is all
around me sound and action but all within is silent and still,
reflective and warm over all warm. I am curled in the front seat,
dreaming of being driven I am the passenger I am curled in the front
seat my head is out the window my hand is playing with the air pressure
out of the window floating in the air beating against my hand my eyes do
not focus, they are closed the wind closes my eyes but still I see my
hand being floating in the wind whipping my hair against my face
drinking.
I am being driven in my dream, the driver is dark and silent and he
knows all of my thoughts. I know he knows even though he says nothing
just as he knows my thoughts even in my silence. He is driving with
unblinking eyes. There is a raven and it flies between the telephone
wires and then lands folding feet under body clutching the thin wire in
claw then taking off again still unblinking and the raven, any bird, to
take off it must first throw itself into the air like a kind of
trust - in order to fly it must jump up and off and for those brief
seconds it is more like falling than flying and then it soars but first
it must jump that one small jump tucking feet under and spreading black
wings glinting silver and the driver still does not blink and still my
hand out of the window dreaming floating and both of us are flying
driving (being driven).
Because there is no difference, really, between fish and bird...bird
swims air as fish flies water and floats and bellies and wings...fins are
just wings are merely fins to the other and fluid motion IS flight. So
we watch, grounded. I am flying, my hand supported on all sides by air
and yet forcing air upwards, down and still somehow in control of the
motion...fluidity. Graceful and upwards my eyes I am watching there are
clouds they are split between where there is blue and I can see things,
floating. And all is mystery.
"Can you drive me there" why do I have to ask...the driving is a motion
of itself floating on rubber floating on asphalt and never really
touching what would real contact FEEL like because really things never
touch for fear of burrowing deeper than surface and creating...what? A
hole where there used to be...nothing.
Nothing like this time a sign and forward mask my presence there is an
understanding that comes from the touch the hole and yet it is the lack
of understanding that prevents contact...if understanding comes from
contact and contact comes from understanding, where do we begin...or
end.
I see now why people intoxicate themselves - there is a fear of other
humans which prevents communication, prevents contact...intoxication
takes this fear away somehow and people make contact only once the sober
moment comes we still do not know where to begin like a fish out of air
a bird out of water...
And sometimes it even feels like flying walking. Dreaming I am in some
kind of mood and the everything that is around me is buzzing and at this
moment truly I am life I am alive and I am flying because really it is
all I know, to live. And to dream creates a separate reality like
wishing and seeing and then KNOWING why this is always so.
Two days ago, yesterday, then today and I am in this car. I close the
window and everything yawns. I prop my head upon my hand and watch
blurred trees become each other and blend with dizzy grass and air. I
breathe now don't drink - the one who is driving is still silent and I
watch him his brow furrowed and it is more than the road. Somehow I love
him and I know all will come to be right and I know all will come to an
end before it comes to be right but do not care just watch. And
sometimes the sun touches his face, eyes and he squints and I am
dreaming this, squinting, struggling to see more.
There is a quiet place where the driving stops. I am no longer driven.
Lay down a blanket on a field so wide there is nothing but field upon
field stretching mile after sand-dune-walking mile and this is where I
am nothing to keep me down to hold me there I float I weep for the
sensation inside I am air - no, inside I am water, I am water floating
on air and this is boundless. There is this field and I (we) are alone
together. There is something around us all of the time that pulls us
together (in my dream this person, this bond exists) and keeps us apart.
It is beyond love. It is beyond marriage. It is beyond sanctity.
And it feels like floating...
Go Home
þ Twilight
ùúùúùúùúùú
just another night
of being alone
just another night
with only my mind
to keep me company
the darker half
my worst enemy
surpressed for so long
threatening to come out
to come back again
and haunt my sanity
go back
go back
go back from whence you came
within the latching folds
lock back up
keep the key
i don't want you here again
unwelcome guest
intruder
go back before i sic the dog
back on you again
before you plague me
with your irrational point of view
with your deadly sinister plans
schemer, disbeliever
drown drown drown
let the waves crash over you
force the ice to form
in layers
so thick
turn the blue to dark green
go back
go back
let the good half take back over
again
to whisper its heavenly tunes
into my ears
again
i don't need your company
or mixed company
it's time to leave
he's coming back again
so girl
there's the door
pack your bags
and leave.
Haiku 01
þ Twilight
ùúùúùúùúùú
Erasing your ghost
Chalk dust drifting to the floor
I blow you away
He Hit Her
þ Ray Heinrich
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
he hit her
and watched the bruises
take weeks to turn to yellow
he took his fist
and punched her breast
as hard as he could
and watched her face
as she fell to the floor
and someday
he'll be honest enough
to say it was me
Hotel Heart
þ Dawn Green
ùúùúùúùúùúùú
people pass through your hotel heart
on their way to something better
or perhaps just needing a place to stay for the night
your valve doors are always open
never closing for even the ruffiest ruffian
some stay in the lover's suite
with magic sprinkled everywhere
some stay in single rooms
with twin sized beds
taking as little as they've given
stealing pieces of the mystique
towels, shampoo, bar soap
everything not bolted down
revolving doors makes the getaway
painless and quick
but the hotel's getting run down
the bellboys have all resigned
the maids don't clean anymore
the west wing is closed off
and the visitors are getting less
remodeling is the next stage of development
How Far Away It Was
þ Ray Heinrich
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
i'm standing over my father
in the hospital
he's stopped breathing
i'm holding his neck
and shoulder
and i've been rubbing them
because he always liked that
and it's the best i can do
while i'm waiting for him to die
waiting for his next breath
and it comes
and another
and then
i'm waiting for his next breath again
and i count
one thousand and one
one thousand and two
one thousand and three
like he taught me
standing in our garage
watching a thunderstorm
on the gulf coast of texas
sometime
when i was maybe six
he taught me to count
between the lightning flash and the thunder
taught me to figure out
how far away it was
Hurricane
þ Twilight
ùúùúùúùúùú
shrieking winds
howling in my stomach
puncturing holes
rips in my pierced bag.
shrinking and swelling
aching, breaking
gasping for air
then being blown away.
bent over, doubled
cramps that bring tears
sucking in, holding in
because they won't escape.
help me
i'm twisting
save me
i'm drowning
catch me
i'm falling
eyes pop out
i'm dizzy, i'm lost
dark curtains drop
i'm blind, i can't see
legs give way
i'm stumbling, i can't walk
Silence.
The calm has come.
The eye swirls leerily overhead.
Oh please brace me -
It's coming back again.
I Will Not Forget You
þ Sarah McLachlan
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
I remember the nights I watched as you lay sleeping
Your body gripped in some faraway dream
Well I was so scared and so in love then
And so lost in all of you that I had seen
but no one ever talked in the darkness
no voice ever added fuel to the fire
no light ever shone in the doorway
deep in the hollow of earthly desires
but if in that dream there was brightness
if in some memory some sort of sign
and flesh be revived in the shadows
blessed our bodies would be so entwined
and I will,
oh I will not forget you,
Nor will I ever let you go.
I remember how you left in the morning at daybreak
So silent you stole from my bed
To go back to the one who possesses your soul
And I back to the life that I dread
so I ran like the wind to the water
'please don't leave me again' I cried
and I threw bitter tears at the ocean
but all that came back was the tide...
-I will not forget you.
I'll Take My Sorrow Straight
þ Iris DeMent & Elmer McCall
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
We both know the reason why you've called
So stop wastin' time tryin' to soften up my fall
I know you wanna sweeten up the taste
But if you don't mind, I'll just take my sorrow straight
You almost make it seem like somethin' nice
The way you take your bad news and you pour it over ice
That's a kindness I don't appreciate
'Cause I like to take my sorrow straight
I wouldn't say that I'm any stronger than the rest
But no matter what you say
It ain't gonna hurt me any less
'Cause in the end, there is really no escape
So, I go on and I just take my sorrow straight
Illuminata
þ Angel Alice
ùúùúùúùúùúùúù
Firefly, firefly,
I see you in the night.
I follow you in wonder
as you burn your tiny light.
When will I be like you?
When will I glow bright?
When will I illuminate
the darkness of the night?
Share with my your secret,
I promise not to tell,
For just one night of splendor,
I'd endure the hottest hell.
Firefly, take me with you
in your radiance through this dark,
Firefly, teach me how to shine,
for I am just a spark.
Just Rain
þ Angelstar
ùúùúùúùúùúù
When the rains did come
They were emotionless
Not the bright rain of a season long awaited
Not the warm rain of a desperately needed cleansing
No torrential downpour of a storm raging in chaos
Not the cold, cold rain of despair
Not the urging rains of conviction
Not the sad, bitter rain of a lost lover
just rain
L'Arbe
þ Dawn Green
ùúùúùúùúùúùú
it's time to tear that tree down.
so many memories it has.
our names carved in a special place
when we were young.
laughing times, secretly in love.
it's time to tear that tree down.
you know the one.
take down the branch
where we had our first kiss
so that my heart
does not break again.
it's time to tear that tree down.
so many times we'd watch
the sun go to sleep,
and the stars play,
entwined among themselves,
as my hand held fast to yours.
we'd tell each other our fears,
and realize we weren't alone anymore.
it's time to tear that tree down.
its bark is weak,
its leaves long since decayed.
i don't think i could
look out this old window
without seeing where
you would wait for me,
where you still wait for me,
beneath the tree.
i swear i won't be long.
Living Circumcision, or Written In Jack In The Box On 26th And Guadalupe
Early One Rainy Afternoon In Austin
þ Twilight
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
speared steel palms
feet crossed over
hanging solely by wits
and sheer willpower.
the cries of the hurt
the sick - the wounded
unmercifully pounds in the ears
lacerates the brain
and ruptures the eardrums.
no heaven to cry to
only hell's flames
frolicking at the foot
only gasping wheezes
part the chapped split lips
as the lungs constrict
shoved to collapse.
but only their moaning -
THEIR cries
bring tears
gushing waterfalls
drenching the fire below.
raising up my bowed head
i scream at the raging sky
pulling myself up
to only be weighed down
more and more
by each begging wail
until my hand's holes
stretch into bones
and the wood
supports my back
and pegs become shoes
upon my feet.
Oh, my sweet darlings
Oh, my lovely children
I will carry your burdens
I will pack them upon my back
I will be your father
sister, brother, lover
let me protect you from my fate.
Oh, my beautiful loved ones
pull the skin with clenched lips
rip it off with your teeth
I will remain erect for you
I will be your living circumcision.
Lost
þ Twilight
ùúùúùúùúùú
speed into the majestic indigo,
dark amethyst clouds racing above,
smelling the deep, wet stench -
of rain in the air -
as notes blare, pounding my ears
and street lights blur into streaks,
illuminating the highway.
long straight road,
leading to nowhere, no place
in particular,
only the wind, tune, dampness -
rushing through my strands,
flapping in the pitch.
inhale smoke for a second -
topped with a coating of refrigerated cool,
top down, spirits spurting forth;
pound meaty thoughts like cubes
and watch them vanish out of sight,
out of the blue.
stars reach to splatter kisses
upon my tender, exposed neck -
I laugh, then, to fool myself.
pierce soapy iridescent swirling bubbles
out of which childhood dreams are made;
stare at the pictures
stare at the stone
time after time, the rushing disillusion,
the contortion in the funhouse mirrors;
hazy wisps must separate
permeate
swallow the hook
and the bait folded upon it -
take hold of the wheel,
stop running away
pick the path from a fork in the road;
lead yourself up to heaven or crash.
Lovingly, He Signed
þ Twilight
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
Lovingly, he signed
and gave me this new hope
of never again being
another masturbatory toy.
Lovingly, he signed
accompanied by a kiss
as he tried to be more human
by slowing down his thrusts.
Lovingly, he signed
while expressing glad affection
and seemed to make an effort
to satisfy my emotions.
Lovingly, he signed
then laughed and went to sleep
used just for his purposes
pretending to meet my needs.
Lovingly, he signed
as I lay wide awake
ripping his note in disappointment
I tiptoed out the door -
Forcing me to not feel a thing
Forcing me once more.
Lusting For Comfort
þ Gavin Otukoya
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
My search for love has took me far and wide
To the shadowy pits of darkness, to the guiding light from the angels
Until I thought at last I found my loved one
But her heart wasn't set on me
So I look to Moon now as my Maiden of Love
For she never leaves me alone at night
Madness And None-So-Soft
þ Clotho
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
I'm in drastic need of numbing
because that sinking feeling's coming
that I'm starting to decay...
I've tried that ferris wheel,
that pain was just too real -
Here comes my limousine...
Now it makes no sense to be upset,
I've got nothing you want and that's all you'll get
It's all quite simple really...
In the end - scrape me off your trip.
I want nothing...you want nothing...
I'm in trouble that you won't believe
because everyone's after me and I don't know who...
I'm in that state of mind,
you know, that morbid kind...
Here comes my private plane,
and my pilot's tumor does cocaine...
More
þ Stephen Lush
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
there cannot and never will be enough to go around
My Book
þ Keith Childress
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúú
stiffening ache
courses through me
over I turn, only to discover
yet another new pain
the pain slowly ceases
and reality seeps in
rays of light shining through
bringing day once again
i awake
events yet to be
run through my head
the fire in my head burning low
slowly rises to an inferno
thinking and reasoning intercede
i lift myself from my knees
slowly i become more aware
drawing in my surroundings
floods of thoughts almost overcome me
images of people
a book of minds
it's an old book
one that I've read
It's not yet finished
writing this book is a daily thing
every day a page or more
encrypted in a code of thoughts
only a few can read
the weight presses on me
I carry it still
it being only a light burden
but eventually I fear
its weight will overcome me
and so I must rest
Rest is not an option
I must keep writing
putting down my pen
closing my mind
blocking these thoughts
and refusing to see
would be like a wall
blinding me
þùúùþ
RIP, Keith.
Never There
(dedicated to Brandon Robert Shaw, 1976-1997)
þ Twilight
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
in the short time
that i knew you
you were taken for granted
i was never there
just another friendly face
just another laugh
another song to lift the air
didn't notice just how much
you brightened up the day
and until too late i did not know
how much you were in pain
how you walked the streets at night
alone with your pockets in hand
if i could do it all again
i promise i'd do you right
i'd be there under the streetlamp
beside you at the movies
helping you in life
if i could do it all again
i'd know more about you
than you did of me
but now i've learned my lesson hard
since you've been taken away
everything happens for a reason
maybe this is to show me
force me to pay attention
to all of the details
friends are hard to come by
no matter of which degree
and now your service is going on
right now as i cry
don't feel right attending
too much guilt to dry these eyes
can't face that lonely coffin
with only you inside
and for the very last time
i fail you once again
i'm not there to mourn you
i'm not there to hold your hand
No More Summer
þ Twilight
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
flee into the corner
back against the bed
furious steps pound in ears
closer and closer
racing toward me
his arm pulls back
and i delve into my shell
to await the incoming slap.
blackness blurred
fall face first upon the mattress
dazed for a moment
i attempt rebalance
i wobble to a stand
but why?
to be hit down again.
'hello,' i greet once more
the flowered pillow case
the next time pollinated with red;
lose myself in the whirlwind
face into the storm
trying to keep the balance
and hold the roots
- my tiny feet -
beneath the soul,
into the ground.
losing count of the blows
and feeling the purple
pummeling my fragile face
its persistent knocking never ceasing
knuckling its cold how-do-you-do
upon the staining door.
hear the lightning
see the thunder
which then brings the rain
bleeding down my cheeks,
hot, wet, and sticky -
watered-down sangria
falling down in
and splattering the sheets.
i realized then
that i had seen
the last summer of my life
already wishing for yesterday
but no way back in sight.
i had fallen down the hole
but clung dearly to the rocks
i had been relentlessly struck down
but i was strong enough even then...
for only nine years old,
the only thing i knew to do
was to get right back up
and take the next punch
even if it were...
to just fall down again.
Nonlinearunlinkage
þ Waves
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
and i remember, we all used to go over to her house
and jimmy would laugh and point
and the twins would have us all going in circles.
o' course mama would call us all in for dinner around then.
times was when we all used to sit around sometimes and just look at the
clouds in the day
and we could see shapes in 'em
and everybody's shape was thier own
one time you said that cloud is a chicken
and to me it looked like a rabbit
times was
i want to get me a digital watch that just blinks the word "NOW"
i know.
Note To The Man Who Cheated On Me, Left Upon His Pillow
þ Twilight
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
i came...
i laughed.
i saw...
i cried.
i went.
i died...
inside.
Goodbye.
Oh, Pleas
þ Stephen Lush
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
ure in [groves{ripe}]
where the breadwinners fight ^swordsmen^
and the /shadows/ and the \stars\ marry
for the p r i c e
Don't give in to the nothings
Love the now for what it is
-consequence--never agains-
#include "forgotten"
No{yes}/*infinite loop*/
@betrayer of hope !! LostLand
selfish longings {$LUST}
..princess of the :adv.-n.-adv.:
Little precious Hazy Logic
-=A_war_eness=... --- ...
[calligraphy of the iron streaks of the
{}
1010~110~1100000::10111101111
<
dedicated to flood
inspired by shay
>
Plaster Mask
þ Angel Alice
ùúùúùúùúùúùúù
years, it's been,
since i've seen the light,
she's covered me a long, long time,
claiming friendship, swearing love, stealing fire,
she may be pretty, but she's a liar,
she has no heart, she's only a plaster mask
painted gold
inlaid with gemstones,
glittering and shining in the light,
everyone loves her, she's such a sweetpea,
but no one looks at me,
i live in her shadow, invisible.
i see you,
quietly staring,
silent and pensive, watching her,
seeing the plaster beneath the flaking gold,
gray, inhuman, and cold,
but you don't see through her, to me.
please, help me
tear her off, shatter her,
i can't do it, my muscles have atrophied,
they don't respond to me anymore,
they *like* the whore,
they think she's sweet
as sugar,
but she's poison,
deadlier than sin,
she's trying to drown me,
she's getting greedy, she wants my body,
she's hungry.
Playmaker
þ Twilight
ùúùúùúùúùú
The contempt never ceases
always resurfacing
spreading its disease
just another prisoner
just another bed
bound to the headboard
tied up to the posts
just another pawn
in a user's game to play
when will the tables turn
when will I be the one
who rolls the dice
Growing tired of sleeping
on the black squares
of this checkerboard
Can't surpress the buildup
Can't restrain the rage
just another means
to a selfish end
of masculinity, of sin -
and raw animality.
Sweet words you whisper
just to satisfy your desire
I block them out
I resist emotion -
Glance away from searching eyes
I feel nothing.
But yet I can't escpae
losing this twisted game
Being the one who's played
instead of the one who plays.
Rainbow Skin
þ Twilight
ùúùúùúùúùúùú
sallow, sunken pits
dented hollow holes
reflect bruised violet and evergreen
hints of ochre in the light
press them
and find fleshy softness
push upon them
and they'll give way
sucking probing fingers
into a black void of squish
slip-sliding into mush
slurp into slush.
Raining On My Porch
þ Twilight
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
The stars are twinkling
The moon is out
Light breezes caress the rustling palms
And it's raining on my porch.
The sky is shining garnet
Wispy clouds race by
Salty waves lap softly onto the sand
As young lovers consummate their passion,
entwined upon the beach.
Whales sing their happy melodies
Seagulls soar into the night
Blurred red lights blink softly beyond the pier
And the dolphins somersault swiftly in delight.
Moonlight shimmers upon the water
A tranquil hush falls lightly down onto the dunes
But lightning strikes...
And it's raining on my porch.
Ravenspell
þ Belasco
ùúùúùúùúùú
In her eyes of endless night,
Reflections there of candlelight.
Into her arms I gladly fell
As she cast her ravens' spell.
Her eyes to mine, the spell was cast-
I pray'd the gods this night to last.
In shadows deep, I found her lips:
And feather's touch of fingertips.
Then night took wing, becoming day:
How could I tear myself away?
As I watched her standing there,
The falling stars caressed her hair.
Now ebon dreams bestir my sleep
With firey mem'ries burning deep.
If truth be known, she binds me still-
Her ravens' spell, it always will.
Requited Love
þ Twilight
ùúùúùúùúùúùúù
No well-wishing card from you on my birthday,
no Happy New Year's kisses.
No hugs on Valentine's,
no St. Patrick's Day pinches.
No colorful eggs on Easter Sunday,
no Memorial Day flags.
No fragrant flowers on Mother's Day,
no Father's Day ties, gift-wrapped.
No fireworks on the Fourth of July,
no Halloween treats nor tricks.
No turkey on Thanksgiving,
no sentimental Christmas gifts.
No more tears left on your death day,
Only my abandoned, cold emptiness.
Robots
þ Stephen Lush
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
seeing with their electronik eyes
photographing quiet stones in time
processing data -
gigo compactors
helixes and matrices of punch-card thoughts
10 hello ; print a flashing endless gosub
cases of decision, linefeeds and operands
constants of x and y
z moves left-handed into zenith's variable
compiling the answer, scripting the question
in a language only they can understand
999 RETURN
Roses
þ Dawn Green
ùúùúùúùúùúùú
tickling ropes of the noose,
tightening around my neck.
it kisses my throat,
makes passionate love to me.
it's the only thing that matters
this moment.
kick the chair from under me,
straddling the air,
the noose plays at my neck,
nibbling, biting, tearing,
'til i am overjoyed
and hanging up there.
Seizons
þ Twilight
ùúùúùúùúùú
in the whipping whirlwind -
in the blur of flying debris,
reach out, dare a touch -
the autumn leaves drop in open palms:
nervous synapse
*spark recognition*
*ignite bonfire*
that fumes toxic...
and blackens...
tracking burn scars,
leaving only smoke and must.
fingers clench...
white knuckles pulse purple,
bones crack,
and the leaf withers...
crumbling finely into a powdery dust.
but then spring smiles again
and sucks away the winds,
catches Nebulous by the tongue.
leaves sprout anew,
<<bright neon chartreuse>>
budding, blooming...forgetting,
ignoring the increased stillness.
temporary regrowth...bliss,
until only a vacuum remains -
and the leaves dry up in a blaze of fiery combustion,
crying out in flaming colors
...falling, falling, Falling...
Autumn's tears are scattered on the dry cement
and then He blows again...
Self Portrait As A Cigarette Butt Near The Side Of The Road
þ Mark Eugene Stevens/MrPoi
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
Dripping sticky
tales of discarded
abuse
and stolen breath
the pulpy shell
mops mildewed earth
and awaits
the final drag.
SittingMan
þ Stephen Lush
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
creeping man with his birds on
a park in a city in the world
his story is true, his life is
common like the rags he clutches
but he still loves what little
the day brings him as those
with briefcases and heels stride
past not unlike the shadows
in the sun
Spiderman
(dedicated to "Lance")
þ Twilight
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
Silky soft cotton candy strands
wrap around, dewdrops glittering
Sparkly bluish-white,
Swaying slightly in the breeze
like a line of clothes out to dry,
While radiating sunshine
And pulling into the light.
Daring to touch, one tiny pinprick -
I become entangled.
Paralyzing bite, venomous fangs -
I am entranced.
* h y p n o t i z e d *
Hear the tiny squeak from behind the glassy wall,
-animate behind the frozen face-
hunched behind the locked closet door,
I plead: "Please, oh please, set me free..."
-mouth not moving, not a twitch-
"I wish to love you, but oh god -
do you ever scare me."
Too dazed, unfocused,
Blurring whorls, funhouse mirrors,
But within your wrapped protection,
my pseudo-shell,
Secure and safe, I'm buried here with you.
You swirl me in your entropic whirlpool,
but head over water, above the currents,
Blowing air into my mouth
to help me breathe.
Twist up the cobwebs
in our shared spindle
Catch me in your sticky glue
and take my hand
-we'll hold our breaths-
-let's tandem jump-
Come, why not parachute to freedom
...with me?
Starry Smile, Snowy Eyes
þ Twilight
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
starry smile
snowy eyes
cold white fluffs drifting
carving icy inlets
freezing all greenery
banking upon the sides.
pleasing lips
burning ears
searing crimson oozing
dripping into canals
scarring all tissue
numbed by anesthetic fear.
comforting hands
tender skin
royal violet inflicting
rupturing tiny passageways
hiding metal hooks
deep within the woolen mitten.
starry smile ...stared at
snowy eyes ...ignored
mistook the rocking of the boat
for the passion of the storm.
Sullen Girl
þ Fiona Apple
ùúùúùúùúùúùúù
Days like this, I don't know what to do with myself
All day - and all night
I wander the halls along the walls and under my breath
I say to myself
I need fuel - to take flight -
And there's too much going on
But it's calm under the wves, in the blue of my oblivion
Under the waves in the blue of my oblivion
Is that why they call me a sullen girl - sullen girl
They don't know I used to sail the deep and tranquil sea
But he washed me [a]shore and he took my pearl -
And left an empty shell of me
And there's too much going on
But it's calm under the waves, in the blue of my oblivion
Under the waves in the blue of my oblivion
Under the waves in the blue of my oblivion
It's calm under the waves in the blue of my oblivion
Suspense
þ Stephen Lush
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
The monster is coming!
My heart is beating,
My footfalls are squeaking,
And I look around the corners.
Look inside closets,
Gaze into shadows,
Slink between hallways,
Run into the orchards.
And I hear the "thud thuds,"
Of a demon of green blood,
Who wants to eat my brain,
I worry, worry away.
Running from the creature,
I'm in a class-B double feature,
I pinch and never wake,
Round the wall edge, and
Sweet Escape
þ Twilight
ùúùúùúùúùúùú
step upon the hard, grey squares
(the gears within the industry);
try to balance as they spin
and slip between the cracks.
get lost within the grooves
- the plunging, piercing cold metal -
pulverizing this nubile flesh
*grinding* and *smashing*
as i'm spread thinly
from one interlocking piece
to another.
crimson trickles down the blood wheel;
wearing the mark of each peg's branding tarnish,
i lose myself.
i'm blinded.
slowly, i am skinned.
after tossing about,
i catch a glimpse of light -
something new in some clearing
for those who have escaped...
instead of smelling the cold winter
of the righthand side of the periodic table,
the warm, floral scent of summer rises
into my bloodied nose -
providing a soothing effect,
pulling me in gently,
and rubbing on the healing salve
that seeps into my core
and makes me new again.
i learn to balance on those gears
and now i even find it fun;
but even so -
amidst the tungsten and titanium,
the steel and the selenium,
i found something sweeter.
and though tastes swerve to acidic...
i'd much prefer the sugary sanctuary
that i call home.
System Down
þ Jimmy Flynn
ùúùúùúùúùúùúù
We are of a lost generation. Happy only in the company of others who are
lost and lonely, searching for the self not found, we wallow within each
other and things. For we really never taste; all has been tasted by those
before us, then diluted and presented as gifts to us. A meager reward for
their supposed future.
Pushed in and eager, time lies. Now their flags and words hold us in,
unpatriotic and sick. Alas, I have found it better to be free than to
fight for freedom. For in what war would you fight when you are defending
tyrants and liars? Thieves, all of them are. Of my life, my happiness, and
now I feel my spirit being crushed by their ignorant reign. My fellow
soulmates, my brethren are growing tired along side me as only they can, for
their will has been tapped and enslaved just as mine.
When we gather, no, wait - rather, I should say when we are permitted to
gather, we feed on each other. A Dionysian celebration of the spirit they
try to contain. A revival of self and of self-indulgence, a purification, a
bonding of the lost generation, shameless to admit to being just that.
28 JUN, 95
Keesler AFB Mississippi
Tangerine Preserves
þ Twilight
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
I yearn to return
to the alternate reality of my past
so far away
on that plane gone by so fast.
Though the sun did not always shine
I was always basked in warmth
overlooking the ocean
I melded with the earth.
Two bluest moons rose every night
instead of the just one white
and the wispy clouds
smelled faintly of strawberries
amidst the strands of light.
They skipped through a sky
that was smooth, yet slightly speckled
orange swirl Dreamsicle
tangerine cream popsicles.
The hills? They were soft...
and jiggly like Jell-o
black cherry flavored dessert
slippery dark red dirt.
Despite the natural disasters
I somehow always felt quite safe
but then came the intruders
and weeded out the place.
Now, so much time has transpired
and I wonder what it's like
if it's how it used to be
or black, dark, and void of light.
But I guess I'll have to stay here
in the plane of today
preserving those memories of the past
while making my new surreality.
The Last Time
þ Shannon Downs
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
Madness. I always believed it was this thing - this monster which crept
up slowly, silently, attacking from behind, leaving one no recourse but to
run naked and screaming through the streets. Panting, legs moving slower,
slower as fatigue sets in, eyes wide, mouth wet with spit. Truly insane in
appearance. And all the people would glance your way while passing,
quickening their step and shaking their heads in pity. "Such a shame," they
mutter beneath their breaths like a mantra, a prayer to ward off that which
offends and frightens them.
Functional madness. I could hide it, keep it under wraps. I consoled
myself with the belief that I possessed a special sensitivity to the world
around me. Sounds, smells, tastes, expressions, hits, words, pain, joy. I
am like a sieve as it all pours through my being, each grain passing through
- so slowly. My mind, working overtime, tries to understand, figure it all
out, processing this jumble of stimuli. I am still while this happens
because I am so tired. My mind silently pleads for respite.
Silently - until the wine ceases numbing, the smoke stops easing my
thoughts, the drugs the doctors give me leave me shivering like a child on
the floor, vomiting and gasping for air. Then I begin to scream. Begging
without shame, without pride to anyone who will listen,
"Let me off this terrible ride!"
Without shame. Without pride. Without hope. No one is there.
The next morning, I feel fine. "Perhaps we should go out for
breakfast," I say to him, the boyfriend. "Let's go get a really good cup of
Colombian coffee, shall we?" Mmmm. My spirits are up. So off we'd go. And
I chatter, chatter, chatter about this and that and the other. Chatter,
chatter. And he listens, quietly, as if anything I say really means
anything. As if it makes any sense at all. As if last night did not happen,
me on the floor in a fetal position, choking, rubbing my head and chanting
over and over and over, "It'll be O.K., Shannon. You'll be O.K. It'll
pass. It always passes."
Maybe he wasn't listening at all. This thought stops me. My mind
freezes with the thought, focusing in tight, like the lens of a camera. I
look at him suspiciously. No, I don't think he is listening. I should test
him. Ah, but what does it matter? What is love anyway? It too will fade
away and pass, then return again in another form. Around and around, up and
down. It all passes through me. Why not him as well?
Ow. My head hurts. Hadn't noticed before, but pain in one form or
another is a constant presence. Slight pressure all around my cranium, thick
fingers squeezing uncomfortably. And with my drug level tolerance, hah!
Excedrin? Motrin? Nothing. Tylenol...oh! But be careful of Tylenol. I
heard that mixed with alcohol it can cause liver failure and I must have my
drink. "No Tylenol," I remind myself.
Am I...do you think...well could I have a problem with alcohol? NO! I
drink because I appreciate wine, the tastes, the tannins, the body and
aroma....Fuck this. I don't need to justify myself to anyone. Who is this
sitting beside me? You're not even listening. Damn this headache!
Suddenly I'm not feeling well. Not feeling well. Years have passed
like moments. And in many of them, I have not felt...well.
"Blah, blah," I say to my deaf, mute passing love interest as he drives
me towards home. His face is tense. He's wound up tight. Nervous. Perhaps
I should lay down when I get there. My bed. My wonderful, warm bed. But,
God! It's only 10:30 in the morning and I haven't done anything all day! I
haven't written a thing, completed nothing...Jesus! I have so much to do!
God, I forgot to call my sister, and the letter wasn't sent to the loan
company, and my agent...I'm so lazy. What a waste, why even try.
Home again. Damn this headache! Damn! The house feels small, cramped,
like a cell. I can't fill my lungs with air. The fingers tighten.
It takes a while, you know. I've never tried to time it or anything. A
stopwatch is the last thing I can focus on when it begins. But there are
triggers, pulled from the shadows of the dark, leaving behind a deafening
echo of disaster.
And she's off! The feeling of doom is impending. I begin to spiral,
caught in a whirlpool - a draining sink. Going down, down into the slimy,
dark and cold piping, down, down. I can not grasp for anyone or anything
because my hands are tied, you see. I can't move them. My tongue is mute.
The shaking begins. "Where is he? The boyfriend? I must look such a mess,
such a spectacle. Just like my mother..."
Pat, pat. I gently begin to rock myself and rub my head, murmuring.
"It's O.K., Shannon. It will pass." I can't breathe. "Breathe!
B-R-E-A-T-H-E!" I am twelve again, a desperate child in need. Where is he?
Somebody help me! I want this to stop. Die.
"I don't want to die. I just want out of this body!"
Is he here? Is he talking to me? I am deaf. Silence. It is passing.
Passing. My breathing slows. Oh, but it will come again. And again and
again and again....
The void begins seeping through me, black as ink. No hope. No will. I think
of sleeping forever. I think of death. I think of God. Where have you gone?
Will you take me into your arms, if you exist? Will you hold me and carry me
away from all of this? Surely a just God would understand, if there is a
God. Death. Even if there were nothing, that would be divine. Simply to
cease to exist. Ah, such thoughts cradle me with warmth -
I already know how I will do it. Not like before. Not enough pills. I
would do it in the garage, if I had a garage. Never with a gun and jumping
from a high place? Yick! No, this time with the right pills and a good open
vein. This scares me. I am afraid of the pain. I inventory the pills in my
house. One bottle of Darvocet, half a bottle hydrocodone, expired. It will
do. Motrin, Klonapin and a bottle of wine. I take the blade from the tip of
the exacto knife - careful - in the red tool box and carry it gingerly to the
bathroom. It sounds a light chime as I lie it down on the porcelain sink.
It glistens, catches my eye - my fancy. This should do it.
I am not afraid of death but there is something in me that still wills
to live. It is a small, flickering light. I can hardly see it now, even
though I'm squinting hard. It no longer provides me any comfort. Escape. I
am prideful in my lack of fear of death. I know that there are those in the
world who suffer greater indignities than my own and yet they persevere. But
I am weak. Humanities sieve, you see. I feel all their pain. I am mad.
I look into my bathroom mirror and my image is clouded, as if I am
almost invisible, ghost like. I begin to cry, though I don't know why. I
place a pill in my mouth and swallow. Then another and another and another.
I cry harder. "Please let there be a just God! Forgive me! Understand."
No answer. I swallow the wine. Then another pill and another....holding
back the urge to vomit. I pick up the blade, shaking so violently. Look at
my hands! The light grows dim, then dark.
I am in a car going very fast. The boyfriend is beside me. He is
saying something, but I can't make out the words. All goes black.
I am in a beautiful golden field, floating. So pretty. So warm, then
CRASH! I feel my body convulse and shake. Cold steel! My back is so cold.
I'm so cold.
"Where am I?" I scream. I'm choking. Something is in my throat. I
feel the rustle of cloth and air around me, rushing past. Words, bright
lights, so cold.
Hospital.
"You Fuckers! NOOOOO! This is my life! MY body! You have no right!
No right!"
A sharp pain in my arm and all is black again. Then someone gently
touches me. Where on my body I cannot discern. Just the faint impression of
being nudged. I open my eyes. Above me stands a fair skinned man with the
most beautiful green eyes. I love his eyes. I allow myself to fall into
them, like diving into a cool, smooth pool.
"Shannon? You truly intended to kill yourself, didn't you? To die?"
"Yes," I answer meekly. "Because I am mad." He scribbles something on
a pad of paper he carries with him, then looks up and smiles.
"We're going to take you somewhere where you can get help, O.K.?"
I wonder who "we" is and nod weakly. Everything is sore, like I've been
squeezed through a rusty metal tube. The man with the beautiful green eyes
disappears, leaving me cold and shaking. I'm so tired. Weary, really, and I
close my eyes and fall into a deep, dreamless, black sleep. The kind of
sleep I love so dearly that I would give my life for it.
I fell into that blissful slumber a mad woman and awoke...diagnosed.
"Bi-polar disorder," the psychiatrist says, handing me sheets of
asbestos yellow paper. "Manic-depressive, you've heard of it?" I nod.
Well, what should I think of that? What can I say? I take the papers and
lay them limply in my lap. I listen.
Madness. I now understand with perfect clarity that it is not a monster
nor that frightening, indefinable bump in the night. It has a name, my
recent diagnosis. It never crept up from behind me but from inside me, for
it is a part of me. Of who I am. I am Shannon Downs and I am bipolar.
Bipolar. "This will be the last time," I think resolutely. I have named the
madness. And I will tame it. I want to live.
I feel the rush of the forced breeze from a bellow stoking a fire inside
my mind. It is warm. It comforts me.
þùúùþ
Shannon Downs, 28, lives in Los Angeles and works as an independent script
writer and television writer for such shows as "Murder One", Stephen Bochco
Prods. She has an M.A. in Film from Columbia, Chicago, and B.A.'s in
Philosophy and Political Science from Rockhurst College. She also studied
a year in Rome, Italy, through Loyola University. She has been crazy since
adolescence but her weirdness was always attributed to her "artistic
disposition." She says she could have used some help a little sooner before
things got way out of control, but she's diagnosed, on meds, and doing fine.
Time To Rest
þ Ray Heinrich
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
the twilight
your song
and slow
the night starts
like the day
slow
and it is time to rest
no need watching
anymore
the passing day
its fingers
pick your face away
and there
is no need to pretend
it's better to forget
as this night
covers the day
as the next
will cover it
and the rhythm
of your song
in the twilight
listening to your song
against the bank
and the river
silver
Touched Me In My Trance
þ Ryan Bloomer
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
dark dusk in the corner
of my unseen hallucination
like a bleak memory that haunts
cut at the strings of time
with a dull thought
take heed as the rust falls
blight the wounds that you inflict
with your silent grin
in the corner
of my unseen hallucination
Twilight Or Dawn?
þ Gopal T. Venkatesan
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
'Neath the awning of your brow, two dark sapphires
Sparkling embers that can light a million fires
Each look, an arrow, that pierces my heart so
Shot from the bow, formed by the arc of your brow.
Braided raven black hair, decked with jasmine flowers
Lissom neck, festooned with pea
rls that twinkle like stars
You are sinuous as a liana, yet graceful as a swan
Oh, lovely one! You must be the reason I was born.
Who are you? I wonder,
Oh, beautiful one!
Face soft as the moon, yet fiery as the sun.
A blossom of the sky, spawned by the eternal cosmic ferment?
Where do you come from? I wonder,
Oh, lotus lips!
Sinewy grace, in the delicate sway of your hips.
From the inner sanctum of the netherworld of serpents?
Basking in the tender glow of the limpid moonlight
I listen to the still drone of time past midnight
Smitten by your image, I lie awake thro' the night
'Til reality cuts by the sword of the morning light.
My love is ripe beyond bearing, nights have passed,
When I profess my love in person, this burden I will cast,
My heart is frantic with haste and races like a steed
A plowman with a single ox, in land all wet and ready for seed.
Tonight I will wait at the peak, from midnight 'til dawn
Where the white waters that crash far below are born
Near the mountain caves where herds of elk sleep
Beside the fragrant lily-pond, so dark and deep.
The night is aging, do I wait in vain?
Like the parched desert sands that thirst for rain
Godspeed, my love, come hither to me
'Cause Venus has risen and Saturn sleeps.
Once, at the hoot of an owl, or the leap of a deer
My poor little restless heart, would melt in fear
But in the dark of this night, nothing can stop its wandering
On the long serpentine mountain-ways of your coming.
Twilight's Child
þ Twilight
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
tip tip tiptoe
in a little jig on hot, red coals
i dance upon the stars;
flames lick at calloused heels,
and tilting my head back -
inhaling the gaseous fumes,
i french-kiss the luminous night.
and i sing at the top of my lungs:
'Mr. Moon, come out and play
with me tonight!'
i wish i may, i wish i might,
lift up my dress
i want more blue, i want more light.
blow silver dust into my eyes
blind me with thy radiance
weave dirty tricks into my tangled tress
feed me strength, fuel my might.
i love you, oh i need you,
birth me as your spawn, your daughter
mix me into thy sparkling drink,
pound and strike me with your passion -
*i'll spill your heavenly seed*
and i'll weep upon the starlit skies eternally...
and be your one and only
true twilight.
Untitled
þ Anonymous
ùúùúùúùúùúù
Forget his name
Forget his face
Forget his kiss and warm embrace
Forget the love that you once knew
Remember he has chose someone over you
Forget him when they play your song
Forget you cried the whole night long
Forget the way you two once knew
Remember now he has her
Forget you memorized his walk
Forget the way you once talked
Forget the things he use to say
Remember he has gone away
Forget the time that went so fast
Forget the love you thought would last
Forget he said he'd leave you never
Remember now he's gone forever
Untitled
þ Bloodshot
ùúùúùúùúùúù
a wisp of smoke circles a dark and disfigured body.
a fragrance of burnt flesh fills the room
and a man with towering height and cocked head stands in the aftermath.
moonbeams expose his creamy, pale complexion and handsome features.
with a clash of darkness,
his black feathers spread,
his arms rise to the heavens forming a rainbow of flame,
and lightning strikes the soil.
with powers unknown to you and I,
the dead rises.
the regenerated souls filled by the beauty's hate
and the little soul ravagers feed on his command.
building its strength to further extents.
and you pitiful souls watch him.
watch him feed off
the hungry,
the poor,
the helpless,
and families with low income.
until you become the dead.
until you become the risen.
until you feed.
until you taste the flesh and love it.
and then you become another dark soul.
Untitled
þ Kelli Burton
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
follow the stars as they drown in the sea of blackness across your face
eye the way they land in heaven and covet your existence
you wish to die and live up high among the bright lights and a God
you never knew they wanted you or your life or your mind
follow the stars as they drown in the sea of blackness across your face
they wanted to live as you wanted to die
but now they cry.
Untitled
þ Stephen Lush
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
kisses like butter taffy
melted waxen honey
flaxen pure
whitewash cure
bleached of past and future
dripping with marks
in the spine of an empty book
white phosphorus
lava flowing between lips
cut and recut until memory slips
"savior, your love is not for me
it's for some other"
shadowed by someplace between
sunrise and dusk
torn between the beggars
and the one I use
lemonade romances
the skylight points up
"what's out there"
just the moon
low, yellow, and laughing
It pains, the fields need to be reaped 'gain
one more touch
to help forget that much.
Untitled
þ Stephen Lush
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
Quakerstate oil greasers
eye my shirt and tie
as I breathe contempt and elitism
though my silver sighs
I'm up there, I know it
it's "inhuman" but I'll grow into it
it's freedom, don't blow it
have an ace in your sleeve and a smile.
Lazy June erasers
scraping 'gainst my mind
they want quarters nickles, dimes and dollars
any damn thing they can find...
some might have jobs and some look fine
but I see down the street
and it's panhandlers in line
there's the bus rider row
and they all want what's mine.
There's two flavors of folk out there,
you'd have to agree
one's with nooses 'round their necks
the rest cutting them down from the tree
took me daylong and I finally got myself down
so baby, if you don't love me
your feet ain't gonna touch ground.
Untitled
þ Twilight & Marcella Garcia
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
When I looked up into my starlit heaven, I found that I had gazed upon a
silver cloud with your face on it. I called for it to come down, but it only
smiled and began to sing a soft melody. As the notes became louder and
clearer, I realized that the song was the same song that was playing when we
met so long ago. I remember that day like it was yesterday...holding hands
while skipping together in the waist-high grass. The sun frolicking upon our
shoulders and the breeze playing hide-and-seek in our hair - and especially
when you brought me down to my knees, our figures hidden by the wild grass
blades, and your lips chased the sunbeams across my face. I remember that
day, and I cry because that was the day you told me you were leaving - this
land, this home, and me... And so ironically, you said you had to go off to
fight in distant lands - in such a peaceful, soft voice. But then, as you
kissed away my forlorn tears, you had something special to give me. So, as
you took my hand, and led me down a path where the wild grass leaves were
pressed into the soft dirt, to a tree. There was a tin box that you had put
there and a hole that you had made. And reaching in the dark chasm, you
retrieved a tarnished heart-shaped box and handed it to me. As I opened the
squeaking lid, I saw a beautiful intricate locket. I still wear it. I always
have, even though you've been gone for over twenty years. You told me to
open it only if you never came back.
And I wait.
Waiting Rain
þ Hilan
ùúùúùúùúùúùú
when rain comes
he is waiting on
his roof thin tin
buckets his habit
tied to his waist
he boils it
lets the steam
float away
eats what's left
the acid crying
short lines
filling inside up
he hovers over
ink spilled on
his blank paper
clothes stains
inhales sentences
tries rising in
his balloon leans
out to the sky
but the air cools
quick pressurized
in his recliner
in each hand
a remote control
flipping drinking
flipping watching
for the weather
growing silent
still hands thirsty
sobbing and mute
tired waiting for
þùúùþ
Hilan is twenty-seven years old and has been writing poetry and fiction for
ten years. He has lived, at least for a few minutes, in thirty-nine of the
fifty United States and currently resides in semi-rural Pennsylvania. He
intends to teach creative writing at the college level after completing
graduate school. Hilan has published work in American Knight, Fox Cry, Manna,
Old Hickory Review, Word & Image, and several other journals.
When Words Shall Mean No More
þ KSDark
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
When spoken words of love
Are turned into rage
And pleas for salvation
Are silenced by fear
When all our good intentions
Crumble at a sound
Then words shall mean no more
When the last I'm sorry is said
For cruel actions done
Or the last child cries
Because of hateful screams
When asking for forgiveness
Is no longer accepted
Words can mean no more
When words cannot describe
Hollow feelings within
When cries release no pain
And tears remain inside
When this world succumbs to silence
Except for anguished cries
And when I love you is forgotten
From fear of being hurt
The time when words were real
Seems very long ago
When cries of pain fade away
And we finally give in to sleep
Then words shall mean no more
Where Is The Light?
þ Christopher Stolle
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
something has got me down
and I don't now what it is
creeping up on me like a storm
as it wreaks my total existence
and my fears run deeper and deeper
I stood on solid ground that was loose
all my functions began to dissolve
so I ran, I ran, to where do I run
then I hit the end of a road
and I smashed into a wall
can't wait for the savior
time are short and sour
I couldn't climb a ladder
so I climbed a mountain
and I fell on a bed of roses
I sleep with ease and peace
my ego never was visible
so I cry, I cry, to whom do I cry
and when I awake I'm alone
in this overpopulated world
so where is she, where is she
that woman in my dreams
and where, where is the light
Wither
þ Stephen W. Brodie
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
Release my heart and set me free
For the flowers have all wilted
The rain no longer falls
The sun no longer shines upon me
And my patience is wearing thin
Hopelessness gives in to my advances
As I calmly wait for Death
But He does not come for me
And yet I lie still
Counting the rotting limbs
Of my quivering form
Dried and lifeless
As ashes burnt and
Spread apart by the wind
No purpose but to wander
Aimlessly on gusts of life
But never my own
þùúùþ
Stephen W. Brodie was born and raised in Dallas, TX. He enjoys spending time
with his daughter, Autumn, playing soccer, and working with computers. He is
also the publisher/editor of Illya's Honey - A Quarterly Journal of Poetry
(website at http://web2.airmail.net/bachman1/ill.html). Once in a while he
may even get a chance to eat or sleep (very little).
His poetry has appeared or is now appearing in: Children, Churches and
Daddies, The Droplet Journal, Implosion: A Journal of the Bizarre and
Eccentric, Jack the Daw, Nuthouse, Sophomore Jinx, The Word, Ygdrasil, and
the MADDVOCATE from Mothers Against Drunk Driving (M.A.D.D.), among others
(some of which he would rather no one knew about).
Without A License
þ Christopher Stolle
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
how many times can I speak words
that have never been spoken before
how can I find words that are fresh
when no one can create new words
without a license.
how many times can I sing a song
that has never been sung before
rhymes never written before
and the tune sounds raw or old
when no one can create new lyrics
without a license.
how many times can I eat the same food
until it really turns dry and bland
and I'd rather just perish in starvation
when no one can create new food
without a license.
Wretched
þ Dawn Green
ùúùúùúùúùúùú
crackled underneath your skin
searing out the fixed anger
a lifetime of lies spill from your skull
fragments of a blissful sleep
scattered across the floor
all your false tyranny bleeding on your pillow
seaping into stained sheets
redundant curses,
no longer to be muttered
reluctant kisses,
no more to be demanded
everything he did
came back to haunt you
you raged your demons on him
you carried his burning cross
never thinking you were even
the score would not be settled
your talents wasted on filth
for what, now?
you're nothing anymore
just a pile of bones
lying in your blood
lying in a flood
of tears
silently blaspheming
your maddening god.
anger exploding
from your fingertips
at last your screaming ceases
we're allowed to rest
breathing in from conciousness
breaking free from your disease
siezing hope through bullet wounds
pounding on the door
you were the scorned
now you're the mourned
dancing ever with your blood stained feet
shadowed in catharsis.
and while i hate you,
loathe what you have done
abhorr what you became
my little sister
my baby whore
you trampled everyone
in your race to the top
to raunchy lusts
and tired sex
clinging to dirty chests
all you wanted was a little bit of comfort
and a slave to overwork
you gave with all your mind
darling girl
never with your heart
something collapsed inside you
and died before you would
it strangled you
until you had fed it everything
who can say what torments
who can say what this meant
who can judge what you have done
my dearest baby sister
why couldn't you talk to me
i hated your deafening silence
i loathed your apathy
and desperation
i miss you
i wish you
hadn't taken you away.
You Again
þ Mark Eugene Stevens/MrPoi
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
I watched you last night
nestled in the corner of
the Dirty Drummer
drinking a cigarette
and dripping off
an Izod stranger.
I didn't say anything
but I fingered through
my drink trying to
catch memories of
broken kite strings
and Charlotte's Web
surprises and pulling
touches in the hush
of your room.
You Are Not Alone
þ Stephen W. Brodie
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
It's 4 a.m. on a Wednesday night
and the phone just keeps on ringing
though you swear you
unplugged it hours ago
and yet it wakes you up again
and this time you can't shake
the dreams and so you creep
from the darkness of your room
to the darkness of the hallway
and through the pitch black stillness
of the living room
but your mind was already here,
searching for that missing part
of... something
you reach for the switch to bring
light gushing in and around
your tired eyes
but there is no switch,
just a hole and a couple of wires
left holding on to nothing
and your chin drops to your chest
and there is that very same hole
only much larger
and you need to cry out
but you don't want to
wake anyone
and your stomach is churning,
what's left of your brain
is spinning,
and everything around you just
revolves...
and evolves...
and dissolves...
before your very eyes
and you can no longer hold on,
so you spill your bleach-white self
all across the kitchen floor
where it can easily be
cleaned up
with a little soap and water
cuz you wouldn't want to frighten
the others, should they come
for a glass of water
in the middle of the night
and step in you,
sour and curdling on the
very foundation of your... home,
where your pain is
usually tucked away
behind the bedroom door
or in the photo albums
on the coffee table
or in the wooden chest
way back in the corner of
the attic
behind all those other
memories
But not today
because it's the five-year
anniversary of... something
and you were certain everyone
was asleep
where they ought to be
and besides,
aren't moms
people
too?
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
Submit your original literary works for Spilled Ink, [volume thirteen], to
Twilight via Internet e-mail:
twilight@mail.utexas.edu
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
