friends | profile | guestbook


rive and return

recent entries | past entries


:: 2011 10 May :: 8.08 pm
:: Music: julian plenti

now I know I have seen the great divide
it is the distance it imposes and implies
it is the imperfection that it magnifies
it's not miles; at most it's inches wide


you turn mountains into molehills
I make headstones for the time I kill
daydreaming of you

Scale


:: 2011 13 March :: 11.43 pm

shifts begin
I feel the pace gathering upon

the tide and
the wings of the flock

I feel the pace gathering along

fault lines and
the horizon's edge

how can I not be pulled into
the gathering pace?
you cannot fight gravity's weight
the balance and the scale:
you will not escape

I feel the pace gathering within

the storm and
the space between your arms

Scale


:: 2011 4 March :: 11.27 pm
:: Music: sunburn

a thousand beads in a washing machine

some plural or past tense
just pass me the matchsticks
the bonfire choke of smoke,
the sunset smeared by tears that escape as I chant white rabbit and laugh,
dodging logs and legs

can't drop the marshmallow
from my freshly sharpened stick

Scale


:: 2011 15 January :: 11.50 pm

It has always been difficult to decide whether or not to, in an instant, let myself explode, or to wait and close my eyes, to feel it down there fizzling out. A method doesn't seem to exist, no options do I weigh carefully enough to discover a rational response.


Isaac set the box down on shelf.
A friend had informed him, neither nonchalantly nor with the tenderness he knew would not have sufficed anyway, that she was on her way to North Carolina.
Hundreds of miles through a blizzard, in a car she didn't trust, she drove to meet a man she would never see again.
"she's just as crazy as I am." he said aloud.
his voice caught him off guard, for it was only when he heard its high pitched, crackling tone, did he realize he was crying.
and that realization led to another; that he would never see her again.

Scale


:: 2010 22 December :: 10.30 am

overlapping scales and saplings
bubbles appear, cling to my cheeks and roll upwards
released to rise and surface
carried by density, bearing my messages
relax upon the tension
disrupt and then explode
pop a tapping signal, maybe Morse code
the pressure of the present tense
the assumptions and presentiments
are too much ballast now to bear

sink.

Scale

Woohu.com | Random Journal