I have no experience in:
bird watching, but I've talked
to a lot of them. It's one of my
weirder quirks. During the day
on the street, smoking a smoke.
Seeing little grey ones and those
with the white and blue specks.
They come up to me to give
a closer look. I just say hello
and let them fly off.
I hope that their day is good,
just as I hope that this winter
will soon be done.
I have no experience with plants,
except the aforementioned
cigarettes. But those, dried as
my humor.
And this jade
that the girl I'm gonna spend
a couple six decades with
gave me for Christmas. I give
it one cup of water a week and it seems
pretty happy. It doesn't give me a lot of
flack.
I know a little about a lot, but there
are thing's I know nothing about.
Besides the obvious. I cannot wait
to continue on my quest, to learn
and experience as much as I can.
I think that's my thing,
that's what I'm working on.
Friday, March 7, 2008
Fire When Ready.
We can stay here,
if you want.
or
attempt to run straight ahead.
It's up to you.
I can go into detail
about all of the awful
things that I've done in the
past.
I could even talk about
the positive things I've attempted at
and succeeded...
It would mean anything.
It isn't me.
I will stand here
with who I know
I am,
and where I want to be.
I won't hide, or obscure my
anything. I've deflected from it
long, long enough.
Ask all of your questions.
It's all back here, waiting.
I know there's no undoing
it either.
It is in my past, I try
my best
to be better off
today
and the day after that.
Ask all that you want,
fire when ready.
if you want.
or
attempt to run straight ahead.
It's up to you.
I can go into detail
about all of the awful
things that I've done in the
past.
I could even talk about
the positive things I've attempted at
and succeeded...
It would mean anything.
It isn't me.
I will stand here
with who I know
I am,
and where I want to be.
I won't hide, or obscure my
anything. I've deflected from it
long, long enough.
Ask all of your questions.
It's all back here, waiting.
I know there's no undoing
it either.
It is in my past, I try
my best
to be better off
today
and the day after that.
Ask all that you want,
fire when ready.
My friends, my love, and my prospects.
I am here to drop a quarter
into a juke box, and play a song.
It's relatively short, and in waltz time.
It speaks of charity, and of longing.
It's on a cd I just mailed to you,
you should have it soon.
My friends, my love, and my prospects.
These are the things I have to offer.
These are the things I will beg to differ.
I want the touch of your olive skin against mine,
I want to hear your laugh.
Good night, my sweet.
good night.
into a juke box, and play a song.
It's relatively short, and in waltz time.
It speaks of charity, and of longing.
It's on a cd I just mailed to you,
you should have it soon.
My friends, my love, and my prospects.
These are the things I have to offer.
These are the things I will beg to differ.
I want the touch of your olive skin against mine,
I want to hear your laugh.
Good night, my sweet.
good night.
Tempted to pack
If I could explain how much
I love you, you'd be scared.
I am, after all.
I do not understand why,
or even how, but I do.
I'm tempted to pack my
belongings into a backpack
and move on down, and share
your bed with your cats
with all of their robo-meowings
happening while we try to sleep.
And take trips away, to the left
hand'ed coast, to vist friends
and take naps. Then come home,
just so we could be reunited.
Oh, geeze. I need for this to happen.
I will make it happen, my love.
I love you, you'd be scared.
I am, after all.
I do not understand why,
or even how, but I do.
I'm tempted to pack my
belongings into a backpack
and move on down, and share
your bed with your cats
with all of their robo-meowings
happening while we try to sleep.
And take trips away, to the left
hand'ed coast, to vist friends
and take naps. Then come home,
just so we could be reunited.
Oh, geeze. I need for this to happen.
I will make it happen, my love.
I want more.
I have a confession to make,
I've felt like crap this last week.
Like all of my gumption is gone,
like a selfish little child.
I woke up this morning to realize
these things, and I accepted my
own apology. It wasn't even that
hard to do.
It's easy to lose course,
to get bowled over by
our own discourse.
I need to learn how to take my own
pulse, and drop the overwhelm'd nature
that pulses out in random droplets.
This is a realization,
this is another day.
This is me getting to sleep early
and waking up on time.
This is to me saving my cash,
and covering my own ass.
This is me giving you all of my love,
this is me wanting more.
I'm contented, but not obtained.
I want more.
I've felt like crap this last week.
Like all of my gumption is gone,
like a selfish little child.
I woke up this morning to realize
these things, and I accepted my
own apology. It wasn't even that
hard to do.
It's easy to lose course,
to get bowled over by
our own discourse.
I need to learn how to take my own
pulse, and drop the overwhelm'd nature
that pulses out in random droplets.
This is a realization,
this is another day.
This is me getting to sleep early
and waking up on time.
This is to me saving my cash,
and covering my own ass.
This is me giving you all of my love,
this is me wanting more.
I'm contented, but not obtained.
I want more.
1993.
I've dropped fifteen pounds,
and I am always spelling out my numbers.
Thirty Four. Thirty. Twenty Nine.
Ninety Three.... 1993, I was sixteen and stupid.
I should've told you how I felt,
and what was up.
But, I was a kid, and I'm now
soo glad that I didn't.
In all sorts of fucked up ways, I'm glad it
took me this long to get sober. I'm glad
that you noticed. I'm stunned to be here,
to feel this way. I'm glad you feel the same.
But what the hell, ya know?
It's an honest chance,
We left it to fate. I hate that
word. Fate.
I prefer faith. I'd also perfer us to live in the
same county,
lest the same state.
Or in the same bed,
on a Sunday morning with your panthers for cats
mulling around at our feet. I prefer your smile,
and holding your gimp'd hand on cold nights, until
it turns from its white sheen back to its
normal olived hue.
I'm glad I can again, and I am not going to
let it go.
So have a week that fills you with reward,
I'll have one that is equaled with hope. And
We'll meet together again next weekend.
I got a book for ya that I think you'll like.
It's called
"How I Learned to Stop Farting in Church, and Other Such Reveries"
It's a first draft. the author is an ass hat. And a bad ass'd leather
jacket.
It tells the story of a boy who is happy where he is,
but can not wait for the future.
I'm writing it for you, and in the foward
I'll talk about how you still have
a restraining order against my funny,
how's it been stuck at the Federal
Pen, doing seven to nine. But it writes you letters,
all scrawled about
with Jokes in a wide range, from burglars
to hand gernades. And boobs.
Hrmm, nevermind. It sounds better in person.
I'll just tell you about it then.
I soo can't fucking wait to see you
again.
and I am always spelling out my numbers.
Thirty Four. Thirty. Twenty Nine.
Ninety Three.... 1993, I was sixteen and stupid.
I should've told you how I felt,
and what was up.
But, I was a kid, and I'm now
soo glad that I didn't.
In all sorts of fucked up ways, I'm glad it
took me this long to get sober. I'm glad
that you noticed. I'm stunned to be here,
to feel this way. I'm glad you feel the same.
But what the hell, ya know?
It's an honest chance,
We left it to fate. I hate that
word. Fate.
I prefer faith. I'd also perfer us to live in the
same county,
lest the same state.
Or in the same bed,
on a Sunday morning with your panthers for cats
mulling around at our feet. I prefer your smile,
and holding your gimp'd hand on cold nights, until
it turns from its white sheen back to its
normal olived hue.
I'm glad I can again, and I am not going to
let it go.
So have a week that fills you with reward,
I'll have one that is equaled with hope. And
We'll meet together again next weekend.
I got a book for ya that I think you'll like.
It's called
"How I Learned to Stop Farting in Church, and Other Such Reveries"
It's a first draft. the author is an ass hat. And a bad ass'd leather
jacket.
It tells the story of a boy who is happy where he is,
but can not wait for the future.
I'm writing it for you, and in the foward
I'll talk about how you still have
a restraining order against my funny,
how's it been stuck at the Federal
Pen, doing seven to nine. But it writes you letters,
all scrawled about
with Jokes in a wide range, from burglars
to hand gernades. And boobs.
Hrmm, nevermind. It sounds better in person.
I'll just tell you about it then.
I soo can't fucking wait to see you
again.
When we’ll be close.
I spend time archiving things,
from people that I love.
Also unpaid bills that piled up for years,
that just recently I've just started to pay.
The interest is killing me, but I'm thrifty
with my abilities.
I have removed and rescinded offers
from others before. From friends to lovers.
It just didn't "feel" right. It's hard to explaiin.
The ones still around, they are the good shit.
And for you, the offer has never left here.
For you, I have tractor trailers full of patience,
and a kiss for your neck.
What ever may need to be,
What ever may happen,
I'm glad you said more than just, "hello!"
and I am glad to be shooting from the hip.
We'll talk from 9:30 to 11:00, Monday thru Friday,
and I'll continue to look over for you in my sleep.
Just to sheepishly say "hi" to the mound of blanket,
and to dream about two weekends from now.
When we'll be close.
from people that I love.
Also unpaid bills that piled up for years,
that just recently I've just started to pay.
The interest is killing me, but I'm thrifty
with my abilities.
I have removed and rescinded offers
from others before. From friends to lovers.
It just didn't "feel" right. It's hard to explaiin.
The ones still around, they are the good shit.
And for you, the offer has never left here.
For you, I have tractor trailers full of patience,
and a kiss for your neck.
What ever may need to be,
What ever may happen,
I'm glad you said more than just, "hello!"
and I am glad to be shooting from the hip.
We'll talk from 9:30 to 11:00, Monday thru Friday,
and I'll continue to look over for you in my sleep.
Just to sheepishly say "hi" to the mound of blanket,
and to dream about two weekends from now.
When we'll be close.
start it all again.
On an early night like tonight,
with the stress of the day remarked
away, like a check engine light flashed
from on to off, I find my eyes fixed
to this picture of you.
It's not printed, it's not material.
I'm focused from head to foot
on our walk down to Fenway
or that little park twenty minutes
after I first saw you again.
How you averted your eyes
and soaked in the surroundings.
From minute five to minute fifteen.
Just to sit on that bench.
How later that night I reverted my
thoughts about the future - and the past -
to focus on the here and now,
your back with its circular tattoo
finding me disoriented and intrigued.
To think about all of the "talks" that
we've had, you and I, leading us here.
And how absolutely surreal it all
really is...
the best 49 hours I've had in a long long
long time.
Come here, so I can grapple with your
shirt and remark about your neck.
And slide my hand to your left hip...
just to trace out our focal view,
and feel as whole as I did six nights ago.
We will go for a walk, and hunt out a place to read.
Get some food and talk about the good and the miserable.
Go home, to my place, and start all again.
with the stress of the day remarked
away, like a check engine light flashed
from on to off, I find my eyes fixed
to this picture of you.
It's not printed, it's not material.
I'm focused from head to foot
on our walk down to Fenway
or that little park twenty minutes
after I first saw you again.
How you averted your eyes
and soaked in the surroundings.
From minute five to minute fifteen.
Just to sit on that bench.
How later that night I reverted my
thoughts about the future - and the past -
to focus on the here and now,
your back with its circular tattoo
finding me disoriented and intrigued.
To think about all of the "talks" that
we've had, you and I, leading us here.
And how absolutely surreal it all
really is...
the best 49 hours I've had in a long long
long time.
Come here, so I can grapple with your
shirt and remark about your neck.
And slide my hand to your left hip...
just to trace out our focal view,
and feel as whole as I did six nights ago.
We will go for a walk, and hunt out a place to read.
Get some food and talk about the good and the miserable.
Go home, to my place, and start all again.
I thought about a lot of things tonight, and
about seventy five seconds of that time,
you were the furthest thing from my mind.
Far fucking away. On a train somewhere,
Probably. I sat and watched you by the
tracks before
You left.
Was gonna to come down and say goodbye.
Again.
But I thought that I should let you alone.
while you're on the phone.
I think continuously about many things,
circling subjects that are far reaching to
many different chasms.
Of time to give;
And the space you oh so definitely need.
But, well, that's a different kind of issue.
We have a lot of space. And a few
One hundred and eighty days of time.
But I wont be kicked about for seven
to ten business days, also, I have some mail
for you. It's a letter and a kick ass mix cd.
I'm just dyin to send it.
Gonna sit on it for a while, though.
Want it to have the right timing,
With yellow'd paper to be crinkled just right.
And the track listing to explain why and how each song fits.
The next time I see you,
hold my arm tight, while we
walk down the street, and
as soon as there's a quick,
quiet second, the lobe of you petite
ear is mine, lady.
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