Inside-Out

Necessity was absent for the birth of the dictionary. The right words never seemed to come when faced with an actual confrontation. The ideas stumbled over themselves in her brain until they beat a retreat to the land of the lost, where no phrase could ever find the way to express them. It was as if they were meant to be turned out raw, like meat waiting to be tenderized and cut apart before being cooked in searing hot oil or thrown onto a steaming grill. They were still clinging to that last bit of life; where they owned a share but never had to pay a visit to the tenants. They bled out like water, but refused to congeal even enough to be seen under a microscope. As they were covered by the dust, she slowly forgot, but could always see the embossed titles on the hard covers of thoughts never to be destroyed, and only reopened years later, when the reader could no longer be sure of the meanings.

When My Life Will Be Complete:

• When I have a hedgehog
• When it plays out like a romantic comedy
• When I have a hedgehog

This is the Last For the Night

I promise.

I just figured y'all should know that since there's a novel's worth of writing that I posted tonight, you shouldn't start reading with this post.

Well, actually, scratch that. You should.

Because if you read this post, you'll know to read the rest of the posts in reverse order.

Because I'm going to tell you.

They'll make more sense if you read them in the order that I actually posted them, as I did in fact organize these poems into a pseudo-series that doesn't really make sense if you read it backward.

Read them. Love them. Comment on them.

Absolom

Don't you wish you could see it all
like the signs on the side of the road
saying "fog may exist."
The tide rolls in
obscured by the paper
with no ink of retreat
and no hand holding the pen
to show it all stretched out.
Don't you wish
you could see it all?

The Battle of the Papacy

Polarity's bullets aren't
fired
because I can't find
the trigger.

I Look Better In Black

Is orange the color? I didn't know.
It doesn't fit everyone like you say it does
It doesn't fit much of anyone at all
It doesn't fit me.
You tell me to like it
But it's out of place
There's nothing here for it
But the flip end of the magnet
Pushing it back into my arms.

Originality

Re-puncturing the public eardrums
synthetic lace ringed with coffee
pretending not to be
in the arrowhead of a baroque modernity.

The Art of Misinterpretation

Words in the dryer
warm to the touch
until fingertips
steal
their sincerity.
Powder falls into
my prints, yours
meaning settling
in the creases and folds
differently
every time
until they are as cold
as when
they started
so you put them back in
and hope
the heat holds.

It's Raining Poems

I've written a lot of them lately.

I haven't written one for a couple weeks, after I wrote four in one night.

I was hesitant to post them, though. That's why they're still sitting on my desk, marked up but not finalized.

It used to seem like poetry wasn't meant to be published; like it was the rawness of thoughts passionately scribbled in the heat of a moment that made it beautiful.

I'm beginning to realize, though, that while the thoughts that make the poem special still come in that moment, the poem itself is the product of lots of careful thinking.

Instead of thinking of my poems as a done deal as soon as I place the last period, I've decided that they will never really be done until I can look at them and say yeah, that's about it. I have nothing more to say about that.


My teacher also suggested that I try grouping some of them. It's not all that uncommon for my poems to revolve around the same basic subject matter as poetry is written according to what occupies your brain, and for me, certain thoughts permeate through so many different aspects of my thinking that no matter what initially inspires a poem, they end up becoming a main part of it.

So, long story short, I'm going to be posting some poetry. But none if it is done. It's all still a work in progress.

Maybe one of these days I'll finish it all.

Until then, enjoy.

I Would Like to Apologize in Advance

For the amount of posts that will be on today's date. I have lots of different things to talk about.

First of all, I'm thinking about getting rid of the music player on my page.

I mean, come on, it's really just kind of annoying.

Even I mute it as soon as I open the page. And it's my music. I picked it. Yet I hate listening to it.

Maybe it's because I'm unfocused and can't read and listen to any sort of music at the same time.

Anyway, do you guys actually like it there, or do you just immediately mute it too?