for the Record

I do have an amazing friend here who has many similar interests.

PLUS, he has a camera phone that takes fancy pictures, +1 Davis, -1 Delgado.

desert speaks

of the captain's peak.

in twelve days I will be overlooking that peak and the serene chihuahuan desert.
to the empty skies and cold, cold nights I'll look upon with wondering eyes
of blinking stars and speeding clouds. I know that I will think of you.

I sure hope I figure out what the fuck I'm gonna do.
80 more days until I'm out of the army. not sure anymore if I'm doing the right thing...
I must embrace my fear of the unknown. I've never truly taken a risk in all my life.

on another note, I'll make sure to bring my camera to THIS trip, I always seem to freaking forget it when I go places... probably won't get a chance to post them until I come back from florida on the 13th of october, though.

tear him away

from past refractions
splitting tween souls of heartless people.

I won't hold still much longer.

hmmm hmmm hmmm

right now its time to bike bike bike
I'll take all day and night

to say that our pursuit is about security and a meaningful life
well, taste the skies after climbing high on a two wheeled adventurous ride and tell me again.

cause I'll tell you to go fuck yourself.

bike bike bike
it's the way I'm gonna die.

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I feel like such a hypocrite for criticizing others around me for not valuing the present or being so dependent on the decisions of others when I too can only wish to be back home, surrounded by people who are outgoing and spontaneous. I miss home. and I can't find one interesting thing to do here alone, but also can not find anyone to go bike riding, hiking, swimming, or who finds a little enjoyment from debating or learning from another. they're all so preoccupied with selling their spin on old ideas. I just miss those who have more to talk about than sex, drugs, and their own narcississtic ramblings. I also miss being in something other than an urban shithole. /end.

last four, please.

repetition feels so terrible but I know nothing else. the impermanence of convictions and feelings don't change a thing. everything seems so common and cheap. childish dreams have never been chased so vehemently. but only out of desperation. I don't know if that's supposed to be shameful or not-sure feels like it.

text message memories

Its been two years and I still remember. your voice, your kisses, the perfume on your skin and hair, the way your eyes would lock on mine, our hands conjoined with thumbs locked in, the feel and taste of your soul inside. the long awaited hugs and letters so long. it was great. it really was. I haven't talked to you, but its probably best that way. we're completely different people with conflicting desires and goals. but it still doesn't stop me from fucking missing you when times are hard. oh well, such is life and life knows best. keep floating, world!

doo la da dee dee, dee dee do!

fingers poking porcupines
piney forests on a corn cob
rain and thunder freighten them
rain and thunder enlighten him
beez in the church all on our tongues
even though half of'em dont believe in what's sung
indiana hiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh
indiana lowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww
indiana high dont tell me noooo
like a dog with a window to see his bone
but no way to take it back to his throne
rain or shine they'll dine on what's thrown
but they're strangled and starved of the green and gold
brown chicken brown cowww
come take them home!

old songs, old finds

tattoo scabs all dressed in drab an exercise in elitest crimes don't test these times of prevention and lies dont climb over walls and shout for your wine we wont help you now but before we could have tried your on your own friend to cloud minds and old rhymes

most people annoy the fuck out of me. and the one's that don't? well. I'm adapting to keep it that way. future holds so little in so much and the only thing I feel thats certain is the unique-ness found in my recent ventures. I'll never let myself become jaded and feed the frenzy of normalcy that beckons from my feet.

untitled, untold

Vodka thins blood, thins lips---hot tongues and wishes from lungs invade my storm as guiding arms force virgin hands to till and plant on soft fertile lands--a temple worshipped with praying fingers, who wander for fear her taste won’t linger

But her name still sings here.

Running skin through soul, skull cuffed for pull, parted lips for apologies---our scent spreading love like some sort of disease, but please don’t see impermanency;
My words carry meaning that outlives my seed

So I read the lines and letters inscribed and mapped all the stars to heartbeats on breasts--a Corona Borealis from Ptolomy's chest---her pulse flies high like the skies seen within each dimension of vibration and sound---around and round kisses navigate aloud, leading their vessel 'cross printed silk oceans with waves swelling 'round areolas of bronze and nipples reaching out for an embrace so strong

So long.

So long; during and after we crashed in the natural disaster of blankets, sheets, thrown clothes, and heat--held thighs did meet slick hips in glee---blackened eyes greeted times of penetration with deep thrusts from times of telepathically told lust; just trust I won't ask questions concerning memories in dust

HYDROXYZINE

pharmacokinections stain my aim with poisoned pain from leaves to thieves of rustling trees trading hearts for kidnies to enemas of bleach dont you preach religion decided by fancy flies in suits and ties they flood the streets with poker blinds dollar bills seasoned in thyme and lye a beautiful mill for typed pentions and christs on crosses will bleed for your prices its a crisis that entices flourescent scents of blasphemous ligaments a ghoulish glow from mason jars for cancered breasts on semented chests lanterns of taciturn voyuers their joy serves only the free the proud and the brave lets behave as beehives contrive and thrive pollinating hallucinations of nations of red white and stars dont lay under polluted waters just to hide your scars I will lick you clean and perform in succession perverse oral sessions fuck after fuck your back will be wet from your hair full of sweat just a whore panting and dripping with that mouthful of debt.

sterile summers

lets fester in the silt of a resevoir built for all this guilt
suffocation comes in the form of Paranoia Blooms cooked in the shade of our shadows' tombs.

standing still admiring our pyramids,
our disfigured complexions will coat the surface of dying rivers' reflections

saltflats form and fireflies burn in florida organs.
their lights dim as imitations hide the stars
grow bigger, seem emptier
a conscience of green plastics and old habits from gymnastics.

don't tell me we're close,
signals from fleshy catapults don't count as folding bones.