Tuesday, November 23, 2010

montreal street fashion: The Mountain that Trembles in his Sleep.

montreal street fashion: The Mountain that Trembles in his Sleep.:
"Blueberry Lake, Labelle, QC I miss the alleyway days of the old youth.Though no actually pavement was in sight, gliding t..."

Monday, August 23, 2010

Possibly "The Best Man"

Parts of a poem i wrote the other night:

VI.
Fancy we're at a church
we can always rent a hearst
when i get her so drunk
she pukes on the whore
who killed me summer before
and now in a gown
made of crustal and brown
delighted to be escorted
how much did he pay
to have his way
and make a daughter..

VII.
The time has come
to cut the cake and the crown
girls gather down
i'll take another round
i need the liquor
to drown out the sounds
like fighting beasts
entrapped in the heat
and bury him in the sand
life out the window
with your fading libido
library only vip card in your wallet.


Saturday, May 8, 2010

bring may flowers


the rain today
wash my sins away
pour the wine
your blood, my chastise.


Friday, February 19, 2010

Thursday, February 4, 2010

Bianca.

she is ready
sitting with tea in her cup
pearls in her hand
rain fighting her on the window
she is ready
sun cast low
candle lit
one last stroke of hair
she is ready
lips not smeared
dress bouncing off her tears
he far not near
she is ready
bracelets on her pillowcase
shoe spinning on the ground
bathtub already cold
she is ready.
ready to fall
ready to let him win.
ready.
she is already.

Thursday, January 28, 2010

Bored in Class.



It clouded my judgement

like a suffocating fog

dancing downward

blocking you from view

bellowing my head down

eyes almost asleep

avoiding the traffic

that surrounds all around me

under a bridge

it clears away

you're sitting over there

frozen in time

a puff of smoke

in a soundless hand

legs crossed

a do not enter sign

as i move on foward

blind sheet of white

clothes pins working in the summer

wind pushing me back

a sign for another

i reach your path

cigarette left on the ground

stained red for me

a kiss for the damned.


Tuesday, January 26, 2010


Hills Like White Elephants

Tonight our words are forming boundaries, coercing us into this silhouette of blatant fiction. It wavers. Oh, just then you threw your arms around me effectively inducing Looking Glass derived refractions.


So don't wait for us. The season's perfect. Hold on, be still. The shadow's coming. And we'll sing, we'll sing like murderers in choirs. When we shelter these infractions I'm in love. The curvature of prose completes us. There's no substance in our lungs.

But now this condescending grandeur will seize our rhetorical cries. I'm here my sweet Madeline. And write me off like I'm a child I've used up my newness in stride. I'm here my sweet Madeline. Because the infraction in decency accents your perception of what we imply, you fabricate your affections tonight. And your makeshift compassion's affectively placed when it suits you and their compliments seem to run dry. I'll be your default tonight. So take my kindness as a weakness; I am benign. But still I'll hold on. I'll hold on!


You are the consummate motion of dilated inhibitions. Improve your net worth by negating your constraints. You're the malevolent rupture in collective progression. I am your sense of achievement. I'm a fallback, I'm your failures, but you are the one I would die for

The Stiletto Formal, From Masochism In The Place Of Romance

Saturday, January 16, 2010

Rave - 'Legalize Marijuana' Bill Moves Forward


a great article on California's step towards legalization ...
thought it boggles me that pot is clsoer to legalization than gay marriage in the liberal state.
bet most of those stoner would agree with gay marriage, not care, or go into an hour long itellectual debate on how corrupt the government is.

Ring of Fire

just an insert from one of the novels i'm working on:
My hands were red. I've never seen much blood outside the film screen. I should be nauseous, scared. I was enlightened, high. My heart racing with delight. I couldn't keep my eyes of of it, her. It was warm like a bundle of wool blankets on the coldest night of winter. A puddle of wine kicked over by mother stumbling over too reach the blaring sound of the telephone that never rang. She looked up at me, mouth wide in shock. Almost erotic the way her lip quivered though her heart had already stopped beating. It was so silent here except for the curious rodents coming to investigate in hopes i'd leaver her here and they could indulge in midnight feast. Sometimes i feel tired of holding her hand but i couldn't let go. she was now a part of me. eyes glazed maybe from earlier drinks, maybe not. This is my first dead body. i've seen frozen animals, and tortured the house pets of those who annoyed me. but nothing was as real as touching the cool skin of one you erased. The alley shined red making the aura around us seem pink like a graphic novel come to life. She was dressed for success not a business woman not a dancer. Probably bored to death..death...in an office the way her hair ended in a tight bun, just trickles of hair grazing her face. Brunette, ageing gracefully but faster than she intended. She was porcelain now, losing the rosey cheeks she may have been known for. I waited until she was completely cold. i didn't know what to do with her.
Did i leave her here to rot? or
take her home and show her what her life could have been like?
Maybe this is what they call a conscience?
maybe not?

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Dead in the Rain


Song i wrote after a couple glasses of vino:

Were slow and were glorified

Dried up in pain

Our tears are our enemy

We gloat just the same

Riding around asking to blame

Someone for our problems

They made us this way

The road is unclear

Drinkin champagne

For no other reason

Than they are to blame

Killing some time

Before we relinquish their grave

The cross on the wall

Shaves time off my game

Cuz ive seen fire

Ive dived into trains

Never again will I end u the same

Been under wires

Off the cocaine

But n a couple of years

Ill find you

Dead in the rain

The wine that you spilled

Makes me want to escape

The years that followed

Make me go insane

The sound that I hear

Is your lunch down the drain

It was a lime and a wiskey

Hold the ice and the chase

You met my parents

I won’t forget that day

Bet they won’t either

While at church

Trying to ray

To block out their mind

About the time you came to stay

Their garage still won’t open

Like their minds and estate

Cuz ive seen fire

Ive dived into trains

Never again will I end up the same

Been under wires

Off the cocaine

But in a couple of years

Ill find you

Dead in the rain

Dead in the rain

Dead in the rain

Ive tried your phone

Ive tried your home

Trust you wont forget me

Each tiem you lie

Your eyes to sleep

Youll see my face

Somewhere laughing

While your dead in the rain

Cuz ive seen fire

Ive dived into trains

Never again will I end up the same

Been under wires

Off the cocaine

But in a couple of years

Ill find you

Dead in the rain

Dead in the rain

Dead in the rain

Youll see my face laughing

While your dead in the rain

Dead in the rainnnn

Dead in the rainnn

Dead in the rain




Saturday, November 28, 2009

She fell off the boat in port la
surfaced on the shore
without a grin upon her face
music sounded
begin to cry
look to the heaven
to beg the sky why?
On her marriage bed
she almost died
seems her groom
didn't mind
suppose to sail
to the islands and back
how it's raining
there runs her mac
when shes done
shell sue his ass
no matter what they say
shell defend her class
veil washed away
dress in shreds
no more heels
wished she had her meds.

Saturday, November 21, 2009

Monday, November 2, 2009

30sec Music Freewrite





She worse a green dress, emerald. Hair smelled of lilacs and loneliness.
She walked through the pebbled streets nicking her toes on the curb.
Town cars flashed their lights as the stench of a storm approaching about to erupt.
She could feel the clouds about to burst with anger, turmoil and infatuation. Mascara dripped like wax burning the ground a hollow empty black.
She approached a streetlight held up against a bridge.
Water below sounded of reds, orange, autumn. The rain welcomed her with spite.
The dress of polka flew through the air, a paper kite kissing the moonlit sky goodnight. Tumbling down into the misty sharp edged water below.
She'd no longer cry.

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Untitled.


Backed in the corner
she cannot scream
the name of her love
still goes unseen

no one will save her
not her mother, friend or foe
her life now in danger
death with one last blow

how much more can she take
this torture she consumes
blinding light like an altar
no god in this room

on her knees
she begins to beg
tears and remorse
she cant feel her leg

must be night
cause now she cant see
how long has she been there?
does anyone miss me?

lights go out
air is dead
struck by her own misery
while she lies awake in bed...

Friday, October 30, 2009

Now it is at its end.

"Tonight is the first of three nights,
on which we celebrate Samhain.
It is the end of the harvest, the last days of summer,
and the cold nights wait on the other side for us.
The bounty of our labor, the abundance of the harvest,
the success of the hunt, all lies before us.
We thank the earth for all it has given us this season,
and yet we look forward to winter,
a time of sacred darkness."


Happy All Hallows Eve!
Be Safe. Be Someone Else.

Thursday, October 29, 2009

radio killed the only star.


The radio shut off
no more sound no more songs
blocked out with anger
lay still your not aloud to move
stay close to the edge
you will not fall
tilt and twirl
until your heads inches from the ground
turn to sand
a debris of failures
not quite to the bottom of rocks
but a distant spray of emotion
tied to the bed post
dreams the only encounter with the world
the pillow the only source of salvation.

Pass the Dutchie on the left hand side.

If you live in Alaska, California, Colorado, Hawaii, Maine, Maryland, Michigan, Montana, Nevada, New Mexico, Oregon, Rhode Island, Vermont or Washington...
I salute to you and your victory.
These are the 14 states which currently permit medical use of marijuana
and with Obama's new policy they have every right under the law
to have the Feds and the DEA out of their bud hairs.

Officials do however state “The guidelines to be issued by the department do, however, make it clear that agents will go after people whose marijuana distribution goes beyond what is permitted under state law or use medical marijuana as a cover for other crimes"

Yeah whatever, this is a small step in the door for legalization of marijuana completely.
If California's on the band wagon, Canadia well on its way, and a full blown decriminalization of Mexico( not that mexico has ever really had an impact on our policies beyond republicans and there ban on immigration) then our future is looking green, VERY green.
















Sources: MSNBC/AP/Patient Report

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

She sits waiting for the subway train
one that may never come
her hearts slow
her hands cold
her lips red and dry
makeup stains her cheek
running down from her eyes
bloodshot, swollen.
She cries.
touching the blue mat stone
trying to pick herself up from the storm.
wallowing over to the end of the line
hoping she may feel alive.
her black heeled shoe slips right off
shooting past her
stumbling into the train
spinning towards the ground
the girls best friend
her shoes kept her alive.


Dawn of the Dead.

I have an impulse inside me. Its a two lane highway at the fork.
My veins contain the need to play with art.
Boiling between the end product of a single sewing needle
or that at the end of a pen.
I needed a platform to express myself in other ways than visually.
So here it is. The other brother. The other sister.
The dawn of the inner trappings of a simple existence.
Thus, here is my writing blog.