Leave the Silver City because all the Silver girls gave us bad dreams

London's giving me the 'mean reds'

Truth & Beauty

You may not be aware that our fingers,

when they touch, spark electricity,

heat propagates

Like a secret between friends.

But it is that dirty little secret, love,

That escalates blood pressure,

Hypertension, I swear,

I'd just sit there not sayin' a word

Reliving the reasons why

my clothes are crumpled up

in a foreign closet,

why makeup is scattered across

the floor, why I have a

new set of keys.

I didn't come for the feast

For the festivities

For burning infections,

Fixed convictions in

Wine after breakfast

Siestas in the afternoon.

They are all things good and plenty,

But reasons they are not.

I came for the closeness

That permeates the room

The smell of sweat and coffee beans

cigarette smoke, indicators

Of presence, body not soul

But I'm there, inhaling,

What turns my head in a crowd of strangers.

And when the morning comes and I wake up,

I know I wasn't wrong.

Hypertension, Crackling Ears

...He told me afterwards in terms of absolute value, sex and drugs were equally meaningless to him. Just two different ways to have fun. Which is all well and good, until a girl tries out the same approach.

Checking the Baggage at the Door

Slept in one bed, a second, then
A third. Four beds
I awoke to strange light fixtures
The sound of coffee brewing
No longer aware of the day or
time. Instead, the scent of patchouli
Sweat, rising smoke from the ashtray
This isn't where I should be, could be
Or not. Either way, I awoke to
bright lights, cat fights
between kitties with no claws.
And all the while I thought,
Where, in this confusing whirlwind
Are you?

I'm a confident liar

Don't know what all the troubles are for.

Anytime I

Wish to be a particle on the wind

Blasting through the pipe lines

Lifelines, city scapes,

Each time, forces push me back.

A world unknown hangs before me,

An adventure where I'm unsure

Of what it'll shape me, twist me

Into, it makes it hard to breathe

sometimes (all the time).

All I want is to be a particle on the wind,

But I cannot, no,

Not this time around.

Shotgun Wedding

I went to an open mic today with a poem

Sweating nervously, nervously sweating

I can’t believe how many people are here

Cosmic shifts in my stomach, acid reflux

Settling, unsettling, I find it mildly terrifying

Then I remember what you said to me

During an afternoon of tangled limbs

Breathlessly: “All art requires courage”.

Then I put my head to your chest and listened

Sounds of brittle wind chimes, diving boards

You’re already asleep. The pills you take are strong

So I kiss your cheek and go to sleep, too. I am in love.

I went to an open mic today with a poem

Smiling hopefully, hopefully smiling

I can’t help wonder if I’ve made a mistake

Feeling strange, like cereal or wet toast

Settling, unsettling, I find it mildly disheartening

Then I see you from across the room

Sipping coffee. Black. You’re wearing my jeans.

And suddenly, I know how to begin. I found the words

“Home is wherever I am with you”. I am in love.

A canvas splattered with paint (stressors)

I think if it's been a year and a half and we aren't at each others' throats that that is a happy sign. If we couldn't last a semester without one another, if the slightest distance was so horrific and disturbing, what was the point? What does that say about our security with one another? Our self-esteem?

(I should so be studying right now).

Love in all its elegance (and ugliness)

And when I wake in the morning
to your breathing, shimmying down
my neck, I can say without a doubt
I am alive

Maps and Piggy Banks

(Because it is spring and all anyone ever wants to do is turn up Noah & The Whale or MGMT or Animal Collective or Matt Costa or "Missed the Boat" or Iron & Wine while lying in the sun, ignoring all the papers and the books and projects that they must be doing).

Shy fly flower

flimsy, fluttering

fools dancing with

rays of ravenous sun

scattering papers

to the wind, pipes

overflowing water

onto the grass, dew

splattering the heels

of the squash players,

mischief makers,

overcome, overwhelmed

by the idea of youth,

and the artistry

devoid of stress,

and thoughts of

blank pages unread,

unwritten, because

out here, with the earth

mushed between our toes

we're dreamers dreaming

under a pale blue sky.

Keiko Lynn

I am not only posting this so I don't have to keep digging through my favorites to find it, but for all of you who love fashion (it's an art on to itself I believe). She is an incredibly beautiful and talented designer in my opinion, and her look is classy and genuine (very folkie/indie-ish as well)

Keiko Lynn

5AM "Subtleties"

The heater's humming is not enough
to wake the room, the birds, the street.
Even the refrigerator's buzzing
cannot pierce the grand utopia of 5AM silence.
But despite its subtleties, impenetrable
walls, a bomb, a grenade, a nuke
has broken the fortress, for I lie
awake, not wanting to listen
but listening nonetheless, to you
the gargling seraphim, to your
imposing, penetrating, incessant
chainsaw snores that have stolen hours,
precious time to doze peacefully, restfully
before morning demands more energy,
more vigilance than I, the typical
college student, can muster.
The sun is rising, you jerk
Revealing the circles under my eyes
No happily ever after for me

(Because you see,)

Instead of dreaming, I listen enviously to the sparrow
shaking sleep from its wings, mocking this
distressed damsel.
But rising in volume above its cheery songs,
your snores, your nails-on-a-chalkboard,
I-want-to-smother-you-with-a-pillow
snores. And I think to myself

woefully, happily,

This is the one I love.

Blue Valentine pt.2

Tonight, instead of studying for my cognitive psychology exam, I watched Blue Valentine with Mike. The trailer had a lot of promise with its adorable ukulele-tap-dancing moment, and I'm all for an 'indie' film whose soundtrack is composed solely of Grizzly Bear tunes. So I thought, "What the hell? This could be really great."

Starring Ryan Gosling and Michelle Williams, Blue Valentine tells the story of a married couple living in rural Pennsylvania who suffer from a loveless relationship but manage to put on a smile for their daughter Frankie. The entire film is spent shifting back and forth from their current depressing situation to bitter sweet memories of the past when the couple was very much in love. In the present, Dean (Ryan Gosling) spends his time getting drunk and working a low-end job as a painter that his wife Cary (Michelle Williams) feels is unfulfilling (Cary herself is a nurse and overly committed to it as a way to escape the frustrating reality of life at home). The two try to keep face when they're around Frankie, but it isn't hard to see the cracks in this relationship as the two struggle to keep everything from falling apart.

Their earlier days together are set in New York where Dean works as a mover and Cary studies medicine while taking care of her grandmother and dating the college asshole. We learn that Dean is a high school dropout with a love of music and art, as he plays the ukulele and sings extremely well (I will admit he serenaded me with his rendition of "You Always Hurt The One You Love") After stumbling upon each other at the nursing home where Cary's grandmother is staying followed by Dean's efforts to begin a relationship, the two instantly fall in love and begin a very rushed courtship that leads to the two getting married when Cary discovers she's pregnant with her ex-boyfriend Bobby's child. So the two begin their new life together, flushed with the fruits of love and possibility.

I felt Blue Valentine, although realistic when depicting the sorrow and frustration a marriage without love can bring, failed at establishing a real bond between the two main characters at the beginning. In a way, there really wasn't much of a "relationship". During their 'golden days', Dean is emotionally aggressive towards Cary (ex. when she won't tell him the reason why she's upset the day she finds out she's pregnant, Dean approaches the situation in a very insensitive manner, yelling at her to open up and making petty, childish threats, which ends up making matters worse between the two of them). Even at Cary's job, the nurses refer to Dean as "manipulative" and a "brainwasher", and insist that Cary stand up for herself more, since she typically plays the role of the submissive housewife. From the looks of things, it would seem that Dean and Cary (although seemingly in love at the time) only got married because Cary was having a baby and Dean wanted to do the right thing and act as a parent to a child that wasn't his own. One could argue, though, that the 'real' underlying motivation behind Dean's decision to propose was his own tainted family history. Still pained by the memories of his parents' ugly breakup, Dean is thrilled by the prospect of a "healthy" marriage and immediately plunges into it so he can make up for his family's misgivings and start a life with the woman he ''loves''. Cary's parents are also anything but functional, so in a way, their marriage is a way of showing their families "We're not going to turn out like you." Not only that, but it felt like Cary agreed to such a swift proposal because (having as many as 25 lovers since age 13), she was insecure about being alone. Although the film has its cute moments, you never see the 'fireworks', the indication that what these two broken individuals had was real.

That isn't to say that Gosling and Williams' acting was horrible. I would go as far to say that they outdid themselves (Gosling as the relationship's 'locomotive', trying desperately to push forward and patch things up while Williams follows distantly behind, feeling emotionally drained and trapped by such a passionless union), which added to the film's depth and dark humor.

Overall, I thought Blue Valentine was decent for what it was: a heart-wrenching tale of a 'poisoned well' relationship that has stretched its participants so far that they can do nothing but look back on 'what was' while doing their best to ignore 'what is'. That being said, it is not a film I would watch again. The storyline leaves something to be desired, as it failed to make me feel any sympathy towards Dean and Cary's slowly deteriorating situation. Instead, after the first hour, I was left thinking to myself, "The movie poster threw me off so much."

(Don't be hatin').

Blue Valentine

If I broke your heart last night, it's because I love ya most of all.

"In a very unusual way, I owe what I am to you"

Though at times it appears I won't stay, I never go.






(I think I'm slowly going crazy).

February's Confession

I have read over and over

The works of science and of truth.

Every problem has a diagnosis,

An etiology to explain. Do you cry?

You're depressed. Do you worry?

Sounds like you could have this.

Over and over (rinse, repeat),

The facts pile on. And I wanna believe

In explanation, logical truth. But doc,

these pills that I'm taking,

These words that you're saying,

What'll help me pull through?

Krása

Medieval architecture awaits.

Sighing

Motionless, standing
Life, it sometimes feels like an airport terminal
Indecision, what ifs knotting the aorta
She on her way out. He realizing he wanted in.
But oh, a future of skyscrapers and martini kisses
Of smoke in the wake of departure, this
Wasn't promised for two. So leave now
The lipstick imprint on his neck
Forget morning sweetness, a rose
Your secrets, tangled limbs
On the apartment roof
This wasn't promised for two.
When he leaves for a tequila sunrise
She'll stay up too until the sky bleeds red
Ticket in her hand thinking, "Wish I didn't hand it in."
But tonight, love, will just be a lifetime wrinkle
This wasn't promised for two.

The Severed Garden

Death makes angels of us all and gives us wings where we had shoulders smooth as ravens' claws.

Maybe

Writing a haiku
Body twisted by illness
Where's the toilet? Need Mom NOW.

"I Write Like My Life Depends On It"

Spring in the village
Amber sunset laughs bellow
Winter sleeps soundly

Her fragile twig shape
An untended garden lost
Seeks shelter

This Time Is Ours

Stomach aches, potential vomiting, cold sweats (pt.2).
My salvation: Russian poets, Netflix, the internet

Parthenon, Ferns, Sleepy Foxes.

Whimsy particles covering the skyline

Shifts in the purple waters, spring

forward, the forests

zip past as you drive too quick,

chasing after the wind

Or so you said, we're

moving somewhere but

going nowhere

fast.

Rapture

Gone are the days bonfires make me think of you.