We are the art in the sea made from trees and glass from years before anyone's time.
I love a lot. Thank you both.
Don't let people change your mind.
....
Life.
Love.
Colors.
Anole we painted.
Sugar.
Friends that make you you.
Certainty.
And Light. (dust)
Citrus love with shooting stars and crescent moons.
Who really cares who we are when we have each other and each other is all we need.
Creativity and not caring what anyone thinks, perhaps it is that you do not even need to think, but rather live. Live with your eyes open and breathe.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Saturday, March 27, 2010
The Rage & Love
The room felt sick and staticy, as the last bell rang telling summer was well on its way. Demor's heart felt a page of fear and he winced as the ringing hit his ears. Whatever was he to do, he hadn't signed up for any courses and he didn't have a job lined out; his life seemed pointless. He worried about the future. What would happen? Where would he go? The list of questions, all uncertainties, seemed to jam his brain almost to the capacity, he could not think.
Agth bumped into him.
"Sorry man, my bad," Agth said.
"It's ok," Demor replied uncertainly.
Demor though about Agth- What's with this guy? He doesn't have a thing in this world going for him. His parents kicked him out, he smokes pot, and he cheats on his girl friends… How did he get all those girls? Demor stopped. Then he though about how obsessive he was becoming. Perhaps it was high school kids that the wrong idea of what the world was. At least his parents had it together. He suddenly felt connected to his parents. They had taken care of him his whole life, and would continue to do so; the rest of his life was planned by them. The college, the career, everything, he needn't make one more decision. But it wasn't now. That was the worst part; the present future. He could barely think of driving home without anxiety creeping into him.
"So what are your plans for this summer?" Demor continued forgetting his rant and how much this guy was his polar opposite.
"Don't know," Agth said simply, "I'm just living in the moment."
That threw Demor's mind into another whirl. How does he do that? He seems so cool and he hasn't the slightest idea of his next move, let alone what he would be doing in two years.
"And what, precisely, is "living in the moment" going to do with the rest of your life?" Demor was becoming agitated with the few words this boy had said to him. Some kids these days.
"Dude, chill. It doesn't really matter. Isn't life just an abyss anyways?"
Becoming infuriated, Demor stalked off, before he could do anything to degrade his flawless reputation of being non-violent.
Strolling down the alley leading to his dwelling, Agth felt a sense of relief, his school days were over. He was a kid of 18, he didn't plan on graduating, staying in school long enough to get the teachers off his case about being a kid from the slums. He'd run away from home in Brooklyn, things sucked there. Things also sucked here, but he didn't mind. Freedom had its benefits. But there was the sick feeling the still haunted him-They left me. I am such a bad child to be forgotten in the corner, they don't even remember me. He hated himself for being so childish, yet there was nothing he could do to change the resentment toward his parents. Even though it was he who had left them in the end, abandonment was his reasoning. Living with them just felt wrong; like a lamp shade in the corner. Clinging to what was left of the light, but never reaching it, metal bars in the way.
San Antonio seemed to be the perfect place to be homeless. Living in back of a pizzeria, feeding from scraps mostly of tomatoes and other vegetables seemed quite preferred to being abandoned. He planned to meet up with Barbara tonight to celebrate his evening of triumph and then his thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of Demor.
"What are you doing here?" Demor inquired.
"I live here. What are you doing here?"
"I… uhhh…" Demor's thoughts changed their mood- What is he doing here? He lives here? This place is a mess. A ramshackle structure, cardboard lining the street, what sort of kid lives here?
"I'm on a walk." The truth was he had no idea what he was doing there. Life had been such a blur of furor since he had stormed off from earlier. Had he unintentionally followed him?
"Oh, ok. Want to chill?" Agth invited.
Demor was perplexed with the idea of spending time in an alley with a kid he had wanted to beat up earlier in the day and understanding this kid's view on life. He faced the decision with something he hadn't felt before, a sense of wild abandonment. And so he replied with a great mirth in his heart, "Sounds great."
Then it was on this time in day that Demor become worldly, he relaxed into life that spoke to him of adventure and curiosity; not the null that everyday life had held for him.
Agth bumped into him.
"Sorry man, my bad," Agth said.
"It's ok," Demor replied uncertainly.
Demor though about Agth- What's with this guy? He doesn't have a thing in this world going for him. His parents kicked him out, he smokes pot, and he cheats on his girl friends… How did he get all those girls? Demor stopped. Then he though about how obsessive he was becoming. Perhaps it was high school kids that the wrong idea of what the world was. At least his parents had it together. He suddenly felt connected to his parents. They had taken care of him his whole life, and would continue to do so; the rest of his life was planned by them. The college, the career, everything, he needn't make one more decision. But it wasn't now. That was the worst part; the present future. He could barely think of driving home without anxiety creeping into him.
"So what are your plans for this summer?" Demor continued forgetting his rant and how much this guy was his polar opposite.
"Don't know," Agth said simply, "I'm just living in the moment."
That threw Demor's mind into another whirl. How does he do that? He seems so cool and he hasn't the slightest idea of his next move, let alone what he would be doing in two years.
"And what, precisely, is "living in the moment" going to do with the rest of your life?" Demor was becoming agitated with the few words this boy had said to him. Some kids these days.
"Dude, chill. It doesn't really matter. Isn't life just an abyss anyways?"
Becoming infuriated, Demor stalked off, before he could do anything to degrade his flawless reputation of being non-violent.
Strolling down the alley leading to his dwelling, Agth felt a sense of relief, his school days were over. He was a kid of 18, he didn't plan on graduating, staying in school long enough to get the teachers off his case about being a kid from the slums. He'd run away from home in Brooklyn, things sucked there. Things also sucked here, but he didn't mind. Freedom had its benefits. But there was the sick feeling the still haunted him-They left me. I am such a bad child to be forgotten in the corner, they don't even remember me. He hated himself for being so childish, yet there was nothing he could do to change the resentment toward his parents. Even though it was he who had left them in the end, abandonment was his reasoning. Living with them just felt wrong; like a lamp shade in the corner. Clinging to what was left of the light, but never reaching it, metal bars in the way.
San Antonio seemed to be the perfect place to be homeless. Living in back of a pizzeria, feeding from scraps mostly of tomatoes and other vegetables seemed quite preferred to being abandoned. He planned to meet up with Barbara tonight to celebrate his evening of triumph and then his thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of Demor.
"What are you doing here?" Demor inquired.
"I live here. What are you doing here?"
"I… uhhh…" Demor's thoughts changed their mood- What is he doing here? He lives here? This place is a mess. A ramshackle structure, cardboard lining the street, what sort of kid lives here?
"I'm on a walk." The truth was he had no idea what he was doing there. Life had been such a blur of furor since he had stormed off from earlier. Had he unintentionally followed him?
"Oh, ok. Want to chill?" Agth invited.
Demor was perplexed with the idea of spending time in an alley with a kid he had wanted to beat up earlier in the day and understanding this kid's view on life. He faced the decision with something he hadn't felt before, a sense of wild abandonment. And so he replied with a great mirth in his heart, "Sounds great."
Then it was on this time in day that Demor become worldly, he relaxed into life that spoke to him of adventure and curiosity; not the null that everyday life had held for him.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Saturday, March 13, 2010
long Ago
that one little girl i always wanted,
was left deep beneath soul-less lovers
when all i wanted to be was to truly know
i left and why did she go with me?
was there any reason for her not to go?
there was no reason to stay here.
emerged in her endless poetry,
no longer did i have to give the world a try,
for we both knew-
if completely immersed in each other-
we
would
truly
melt.
but why did i?
go with my knowing?
that the world is only one way?
listen to harsh cruelties,
an evermore
is no an in no more.
evolve
to a place no one ever lives
what even in these words i have no sacanity.
death doth consumes her
the one who knows body is art
yet there was no passion
only my little girl fingers dieing to trace at her within my arms
i could not know
an only forever power
that never truly rules
when the only true tattoo one could pretend to have was
love
and yet
what it is meant
of that etched into skin?
nothing much long lasting,
not even of the trees
skin the great demise
and suffrage of all ages.
was left deep beneath soul-less lovers
when all i wanted to be was to truly know
i left and why did she go with me?
was there any reason for her not to go?
there was no reason to stay here.
emerged in her endless poetry,
no longer did i have to give the world a try,
for we both knew-
if completely immersed in each other-
we
would
truly
melt.
but why did i?
go with my knowing?
that the world is only one way?
listen to harsh cruelties,
an evermore
is no an in no more.
evolve
to a place no one ever lives
what even in these words i have no sacanity.
death doth consumes her
the one who knows body is art
yet there was no passion
only my little girl fingers dieing to trace at her within my arms
i could not know
an only forever power
that never truly rules
when the only true tattoo one could pretend to have was
love
and yet
what it is meant
of that etched into skin?
nothing much long lasting,
not even of the trees
skin the great demise
and suffrage of all ages.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
no title
If I keep writing and you keep driving maybe we will come to the ocean's edge no need for fear or any worries cause this life is here.
If you keep singing and I keep painting our lives will be filled with color for art is in the music and the music is in you so let's keep this going.
If you keep singing and I keep painting our lives will be filled with color for art is in the music and the music is in you so let's keep this going.
Today is the First Day
Just like all the other days.
But with a tinge more of remorse.
Retrospect-
What could else I have done.
Left alone, for endless hours.
No place left to run.
Find one final lovers arms and say
secrets to be kept.
But nevertheless and never any more things are never what they seem although adored.
Take me out into the snow,
push me down
and you let me go.
But with a tinge more of remorse.
Retrospect-
What could else I have done.
Left alone, for endless hours.
No place left to run.
Find one final lovers arms and say
secrets to be kept.
But nevertheless and never any more things are never what they seem although adored.
Take me out into the snow,
push me down
and you let me go.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
The Street (Port 2.)
The spark of light
brings power to
the skies.
Winds of summer
circle the trash encrusted
back light streets.
Dirty.
The World.
Stealing ideas from
beneath street lamps.
Searching for anything new,
distinct.
When the world has lived
and the world has died.
Why do we
try to reach
heavenly heights?
(For the angles.)
brings power to
the skies.
Winds of summer
circle the trash encrusted
back light streets.
Dirty.
The World.
Stealing ideas from
beneath street lamps.
Searching for anything new,
distinct.
When the world has lived
and the world has died.
Why do we
try to reach
heavenly heights?
(For the angles.)
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