I remember this Jon Hillenbrand, October 21, 2010December 30, 2015 You’ll know if this makes sense to you: “And it starts, sometime around midnight. Or at least that’s when you lose yourself for a minute or two. As you stand, under the bar lights. And the band plays some song about forgetting yourself for a while. And the piano’s this melancholy soundtrack to her smile. And that white dress she’s wearing you haven’t seen her for a while. “But you know, that she’s watching. She’s laughing, she’s turning. She’s holding her tonic like a cross. The room’s suddenly spinning. She walks up and asks how you are. So you can smell her perfume. You can see her lying naked in your arms. “And so there’s a change, in your emotions. And all these memories come rushing like feral waves to your mind. Of the curl of your bodies, like two perfect circles entwined. And you feel hopeless and homeless and lost in the haze of the wine. “Then she leaves, with someone you don’t know. But she makes sure you saw her. She looks right at you and bolts. As she walks out the door, your blood boiling your stomach in ropes. Oh and when your friends say, ‘What is it? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’ “Then you walk, under the streetlights. And you’re too drunk to notice, that everyone is staring at you. You just don’t care what you look like, the world is falling around you. You just have to see her. You just have to see her. You just have to see her. You just have to see her. You just have to see her. You know that she’ll break you in two.” Lyrics by: The Airborne Toxic Event Poetry herlovephotographyPoetry
Poetry Listen not to vain word of empty tongue July 19, 2007December 30, 2015 The title of this blog came to me wrapped in hard cookie. A crack later and the fortune spilled into my hand like hot mercury. Such wisdom nowadays comes to me at the end of a meal from someone who probably barely speaks the language they are writing in. I… Read More
Poetry Ascendancy October 8, 2008December 30, 2015 The rain falls down the glass, time-worn cracks tracing the road map of my life. Practical considerations have no ascendancy in the pointed monologue of memory or the inner dialog of reason. I can see the light coming through my bathroom window and dancing like music alighting on glistening copper… Read More
Poetry Sing me to sleep October 28, 2011May 10, 2013 I have a song in my heart that I like to listen to. Maybe sometime I’ll whisper it to you from my lips to your lips and that song will sit in your heart as well. Read More