Ham and Cheese..What's on the inside

Transference

2011-11-29T14:51:00.000-05:00

He owns
an inimitable scent
that settles
in my skin
and hair.

Sometimes
I carry it
with me, surreptitiously
returning to his
remains throughout
the day.

Other times
I rinse him
down the drain
in a desperate
appeal for
self preservation.

Today, I
am somewhere
in between;
one essence
and distillation.

(In rememberance of where we were this time last year. I miss him so.)

Tradition

2010-04-20T15:28:00.001-04:00

My brother
and I
got high
and parked
on the pier
at Menemsha.
We ate fried
fish sandwiches
and drank
Foster’s 40’s
watching
the sun set,
hoarding moments,
bickering
and laughing,
with the orange glow
against tourists’
silhouettes.

I connect at 14th St. (Revised)

2010-03-11T16:02:00.005-05:00

Lost and distraught
E-ward bound,
ten paces away
a man,
an Asian man,
enters the train:
with jet black
hair and a
jet black
stride,
carrying crinkly
plastic bags.
Twenty third
street stop
head drops
to hand,
thirty fourth,
forehead
to chin.
Forty second
street passes
he wipes his eyes,
oranges tumble,
forty ninth st.,
it's mine.

Crilogy

2009-07-27T11:44:00.003-04:00

The Impulse Disorder Crime

Merciless impulses
things stolen by you,
of mine.
Vigilance with
no exit,
sexually overwrought
and
deliberately
not responsible.

The Crime of Passion

Loss of control
with someone he knows
pillar of the community
and thoughts of burning
her alive
become the antecedent,
a fury, a vow
to settle the score.

Scissors in a
brown paper bag.
Nine times in a
parking lot.
Good riddance… again.

Lunch

2009-07-22T14:57:00.006-04:00

Heroic
efforts fail
but he's too cold
hearted to care.

Some nobody
dies at his hands
and all he can think
about is lunch.

(Bento Boxes:
a compulsion,
like counting
granules of sand
on a beach
where no dogs
are allowed.)

Acidic coffee
residue
still lingers
in the back
of the throat.

“Teriyaki Chicken’,
tongue and stomach agree.

Staring Into the Mouth of The Beast

2009-07-06T12:42:00.004-04:00

Paddling down the Wekiva River
alligators glide by
waiting for an opportunity
to put their great jaws in motion.

“If you fall out, mother,
I’m not jumping in to save you.”

2009-06-30T11:34:00.001-04:00

Facing Fears in an Empty Barn

The fight between good
and evil
is only a state of mind,
a moral conquest.
If you listen you can hear
the visceral heartbeat,
beat, beat, beating
to extremes,
taking a rhythm
within personal conflict.
Old ideas become
new worries in
the imagination
of the imaginative.
Whether it be a
black comedy or
tragedy,
common sense tells you
to overlook
the obvious
ethical implications.
It’s survival of the fittest,
surviving your
own state of mind.
Can you survive
unconditional love?
Will unconditional love
survive you?
Facing your fears
in an empty barn
reminds you of a
childhood,
and the unknown.

2009-06-18T21:44:00.004-04:00

Warm air - flowing (stop)
over my skin -
smile on my face...
a little High feels good.(stop)
That’s what I want - I want
to feel like that. (stop)
When I looked in your eyes,
they shimmered - for me. (stop)
I should have (stop)
I just (stop)
should have -
taken you there.
I would get up - and dance, (stop)
I would -
lick that mouth clean (stop)
of those dirty thoughts -
your eyes expected.
I want -
to stay with you (stop).

Taking Flight

2005-11-28T11:04:00.000-05:00

That old man,
now just like
a child.
Hiding, hurting,
running away from
constant confrontation.
Poor old man, who
only wants to finish
out his days
feeling free,
watching his hairs
go grey.
My old man, pops,
I like to call him,
the only one who
really understands
who I am.
Maybe I should
be there
through his tarnished
golden years.
"Go live your life"
he says,
"there's nothing for
you here."
This stomach,
not strong enough
to bear the
sadness in his eyes,
turns quickly,
no long goodbye's, for
me and my old man.

Glance

2005-11-05T22:20:00.000-05:00

Hear how I would
read this to you with my
soul and passion,
sadness and solemn.
Breaking here,
Breaking there...
Breaking down.
Before the final break,
I fear the end is near.

See me… inside?
Shooting from one
organ to another,
stabbing through.
Causing first, passion
then sadness and solemn.
Broken down,
broken through, to
the very end of
where I need to be
but yet, could never
see, the hearing you.

Neither Here Nor There

2005-11-03T15:53:00.000-05:00

Mr. Distance travels in spells
through me and then on
to nothingness.
I thought I felt a lifetime,
for a moment,
a lifeline.
It was only a mirage in
the oppressive heat
that I could never quite reach
no matter how hard I tried.
In that moment,
it seemed,
having a tiny glimmer of
something was better
than nothing,
but I was wrong,
I want and need it all,
no in between.

Vice

2005-10-25T21:50:00.000-04:00

Gripped by random
unclear intensity,
energy on the verge
of a happening.
Rolled over in
the thought as
it enters all the
hollow spaces.
Hairs standing
eyes enlarging
toes curling…
and the hand
won’t stop squeezing
out one more,
numbing all the faces.

A lesson in relaxation

2005-10-16T14:09:00.000-04:00

That smog returned
quickly this time.
Illogical, nervous,
angry, tearful.
I feel hyper, pacing back and
forth finding random chores
to do around the apartment.
In between steps I repeat,
what’s wrong with you?
Get control.
How, how to get control.
I’m still in my pajamas,
haven’t eaten breakfast.
Oh, there’s a little bit
of vodka in the cabinet.
Enough for one drink to
take the edge off.
Good idea.
I poured that drink, shaking.
Sitting down at the computer
looking for your note I
knock some back.
I don’t like vodka.
Another swallow.
This isn’t a good idea.
This just makes you weak.
In the kitchen I dump
it down the drain.
But not before feeling
the first drops warm
my throat and stomach.
Wash the dishes.
A better idea.
Eat breakfast.
A lightly burned bagel.
I like it like that.
And a Valium.
Because that’s much more
reasonable at this time of day.

Redemption/Harvest

2005-10-10T22:53:00.000-04:00

Does he know that I
jimmied open that locked door
because I love him more
than I loathe myself?
October always brings such
bittersweet sensations,
and a neverending wealth
of futile frustration.

2005-08-17T13:23:00.000-04:00

Punish and reward me
like the dog you cannot
truly own.
I serve and deliver
hungry for seconds,
those gaps in time
that convince the
good side that there
is something worthy
of this love.
Devouring those seconds
between thought and action
where penetration meets
maximum insertion.

2005-08-17T13:08:00.002-04:00

I live in a state of anxiety,
I live for the unspoken word.
The lights and sounds
surround,
conjoining the masses.
Phases taunt,
seperating reality.
I don't need to
learn everything
but I want to know all.
Metal on metal,
my world for now.

2005-07-25T19:55:00.000-04:00

Youth dribbles
out of me
like water
through a sieve.
I look in the mirror
and observe my mother's
legs, ankles, hands
and lines.
Refusing to see them
like I did
as a child.
A sign. A message
from time.
Now struggling
to survive
so foolishly,
as if I,
could be
the only one alive
who can cheat, defeat
and defy the
true destiny
of life,
to die.

The Calling

2005-07-18T21:14:00.000-04:00

I live on this
blinding white island
the shore
slowly eroding.
One by one
they are disappearing,
gone into love.
Take me with you,
I scream into
the salty air.
No Response.
I built a raft
to save myself.
It too sits on the beach
eroding.
I dreamt I had a paddle,
awakening
to a palm
torn apart
by restlessness.
Remember me,
I scream
into the salty air.
Looking to the left
my lips
touch my shoulder.
I bite down hard,
no response.

2005-07-11T20:03:00.000-04:00

Running backwards I
exit the dark
before entering.
Shivering over
what I could have,
might have done
again and again.
Reverse notions play
in slow motion
near that spot
behind the ears
projecting onto your
barren chest
those thoughts
I should have
made clear
before past intent
became present penance.

2005-07-08T11:46:00.000-04:00

Ill at ease and tired
I start my day
walking in the rain.
I did not wear a sweater,
must have wanted to be cold.
Ill at ease and tired
I start my day
on the train.
Crowded with people
taking up too much space,
their shoes squeaking
on the wet ground.
Ill at ease and tired
I start my day in vain.
The haziness drenching bodies
from head to toe
leaving a transparent stain.

2005-07-07T16:03:00.000-04:00

I saw this beetle crawling.
Crawling desperately through the trees of grass.
Moving side to side, up... down.
Avoiding some but mostly plowing through
all the obstacles in his path.
He has little or no concept of where he is going.
He doesn’t even know why.
He only feels the need.
And he’d die trying.

I was crawling.
Crawling desperately through the trees.
Moving side to side, up… down
Avoiding some but mostly plowing through
all the obstacles in my path.
I have little or no concept of where I’m going.
I don’t even know why.
I only feel the need.
And I’ll die trying.

I sometimes wish I had only that instinctual need
to plow through this life blindly.
To exhaust myself trying.
And then in one fleeting moment I realize I do.

Criminal

2005-06-26T20:27:00.000-04:00

Who are you today,
sometimes I need to know.
I tried to google you
but haven't the courage
to type your name,
can't, won't, even
say it aloud.
I see you often
in the face of others
and in my nightmares but
differnt forms.
I know, I KNOW,
that if I were to locate you
I wouldn't be able to
stop myself from all
the things I've often
wanted to do in
return, revenge,
that which you deserve.
Or mabye just prove
that you didn't ruin me,
ruin my life. Fuck it up for
good. But then at times i've
allowed you to ruin my life,
you murdered a part in me,
the part that knew no fear
of who she wanted to be.
Now who I am is in some ways
defined by you, you who
had no right to enter my
life. I hate you, I feel for
you, I even sometimes long to
talk to you, hoping you would
confess your actions and
apologize. A fantasy I carry
with me into the darkest
depths to which I can sink.
That's where you are. Still
hidden in that black cave
of my tortured mind,
with no guilt or empathy
for me. And I go
there often, still, even
after all this time.

W to Ditmars

2005-06-24T21:39:00.000-04:00

I sat next to your
brawn on the subway today,
and kept sliding closer,
feeling drawn.
I like not knowing you
but craving to be near.
Your legs are thick,
twice the size of my own,
and those sholders,
so broad, screaming
for my head to rest upon.
Hunched over, elbows on knees,
I see the profile
of your dark skin,
and you glimpse from
the corner of your eye
as I write.
I am a thief, baby,
I laugh to myself,
stealing a moment from you
on this long, lonely ride.

2005-06-24T14:57:00.000-04:00

I remember that day
in the soccer field, the
cosmos exploding above us.
I've never felt like
that again. Oh
what you did to me.
The day we met,
tunnel vision,
no one else in the room.
The feeling of swirling around
into a twister and being
sucked up into you.
It was at its best because
I knew you felt it too.
I live only to feel that
freakish force of nature
again.

2005-06-23T14:02:00.000-04:00

Too many thoughts go to waste
before finding any paper
that I can't get back,
can't remember.
So I drink red wine
with peaches in it
now that it's summer
turning my teeth purple,
hoping it will relax me
just enought to get those
creative nectars flowing.
But it just makes me tired
and sleepy or too drunk to
hold my pencil,
which is all the same
to me
because I have to keep
sharpening the damned thing
anyway, and I can't find
my eraser.

2005-06-20T14:20:00.000-04:00

This guy I know
he's not too bright.
Or he's brilliant,
I haven't yet
made up my mind.
He plays with me and
then forgets me, or
does he,
I don't know.
One day he's there
lingering and the next
gone, becoming distant
trying hard to force
my hand, or maybe not.
He'll love me next week
but not today,
I guess I can't blame him
I think I do the same.

2005-06-18T19:57:00.000-04:00

liquid oozing out
of you into my inches
soothing my sores,
taking me over and
pasting to my skin
the essence of
your soul.
inside, vibrations
heat and intensify
shooting, at the speed
of sound from within
my core, surrounding
each of my organs
with a deep layer of
tingly denseness,
boiling them
so sublime.

2005-06-16T15:39:00.000-04:00

Everyone has them, those moments when you feel as if you're walking on air. Sixty seconds where you say to yourself 'God I love this city, I don't want to be anywhere else'. They are so definitive, and truthful. Such moments of clarity. It almost feels like being captured during a game of hide and seek. Stumbling upon a percussionist, pounding superbly on his flimsy instruments in the street, I had one of those today. And following, many of the others came rushing back to me. Walking down 6th street, gazing at all the Indian restaurants and their beaming lights and colors, that feeling of unity and the eye contact made with other train passengers when a complete lunatic walks on shouting and flailing about, the smell of a dark, damp, off, off, off broadway theatre, finding the all too perfect cute, eclectic shoe that fits and is on sale, the way the sun sets on the gold domed roof atop this certain building downtown. One of my favorites of these moments was walking home last summer after seeing a documentary. A particular film I had been long awaiting for.(I only regret that I didn't smuggle in some red wine or a beer to have my own private toast during.) It was a hot, steamy summer day, the kind that just begs for the thunderstorm you know is lurking. I had missed the storm completely, and when walking home the air was, if possible, even steamier with massive puddles everywhere that I puposefully walked trhough. I meandered, my pace slow and casual instead of the standard New York-borderline-sprint, appreciating the heat after freezing in the cold a/c of the theatre, musing over the experience and just existing in the moment. Taking delight in all I have learned by living here.
It is ironic to me, how some of the best times to be had in this city are, without a doubt, experienced alone.

2005-06-13T14:41:00.000-04:00

I still believe in love.
I still believe in love.
I still believe in love.
It has to be out there.
I still believe in love.
I still believe in love.

2005-06-08T14:32:00.000-04:00

For the hot and bothered.

What the fuck, it's only June. 91 degrees.

2005-06-07T12:34:00.000-04:00

Sharpness rolling by,
wetness on black.
The light flickers
every now and then.
A low hum,
rumbling through
the thickness,
for a moment
confines.

Sailing

2005-05-31T10:58:00.000-04:00

seated here
on this cold hard rock
I watch for you,
out there,
drifting.
the taste of salt
on my lips,
I am breathless.
my tears,
insignificant
in comparison.
I see you drifting,
afloat on the ocean.
the sun is setting,
you wave to me.
coldness now replaced by hope,
a false sense of warmth.

Postcards

2005-02-17T14:56:00.001-05:00

Yellow flooding about me
as she stands hovering,
grinning,
in her orange socks.
Brown sticks poking out
of shadowed bins,
behind the street corner,
pushed aside
from the loveliness.
I weave day long
in the hot sun,
gazing at the rare flash,
freezing my lines
into your memories forever.

Fourth Story Window

2005-02-16T15:53:00.000-05:00

The curtain hanging in my window breathes in and out.
Its belly filling with air upon each inhale.
Exhaling, the shadows of the plants on the sill grow larger.
A mix of gold and orange from the streetlight
enhances those shadows.
I try to imagine a bird landing in the empty spaces.
A crow or raven.
Four stories and a screen separate me
from the voices below.
I breathe in… out in time with the curtain.
I see my first glimpse of summer.

The Bright Side

2005-02-16T15:51:00.001-05:00

The gland in my groin
is swollen.
My stomach burns
with acid.
The arthritis in my foot
is throbbing,
And I am
dizzy again.
Today is payday and I am
still broke.
My job is unfulfilling,
meaningless.
I have no love in my life,
the kind that
makes your heart pound.
Ah… but the sun,
the sun is shining.
Shining in my direction
with warmth
Carried on a breeze
forcing me to be delighted,
dreadfully optimistic.

In the Kitchen

2005-02-16T15:47:00.001-05:00

I lay my head
on the counter
shielding my face
with the corner
of my arm.
This sweater is soft
and warm,
the darkness,
welcoming.
My body is weak…
tired.
Random images flicker
in the back
of my brain,
drilling deeper
and deeper,
into the past.
Lifting my head,
the invasive kitchen light
carries me back
to the paper.
I wonder where I can hide
from myself.

Working 9-5

2005-02-16T15:44:00.000-05:00

This gray box sits still… motionless.
Starring long enough I can see its breath.
Breath forcing into my lungs that very stillness.
Every direction I turn this gray box slaps my face from its core.
It turns my skin the color of smog with each exhale.
I can no longer hold my breath.

What's the Difference

2005-02-15T15:20:00.000-05:00

The same. Everything.
I grow tired of the same everything.
The walk to the subway
What to eat
What to wear
The music I listen to
I grow tired of myself. All of me.
The color of my hair
The sound of my voice
The shape of my body
The thoughts in my head
The things that change,
Ultimately become the same everything.
So why change?
Change your route to work
Change what you eat
Change the color of your hair
Even change the way you think
The things that change
Ultimately become the same everything.

Phobia

2004-04-14T10:13:00.000-04:00

Don’t look my way
Don’t blink an eye
Don’t breathe out for then
I’ll have to breathe you in
If you accidentally
Brush up against me
I will have to carry you
With me throughout the day
If you speak to me
You will become a part of
Of my life
My life, where there is no
Room for your breath
Your stares
Your touch.

City Life

2004-03-29T12:59:00.000-05:00

Winter sky slicing you on a bridge over flowing water,
Summer heat crushing you on a street sticky with tar ,
Spring green reborn in every crack and crevice left to find,
Fall… falling, falling...
Falling even further behind.

Secret to my Success

2004-03-29T12:57:00.000-05:00

To lie awake night after night
Is it true insomnia?
Or is it fear; fear of what daylight brings,
Opportunity.
The opportunity to go out and become something.
Achieve.
Avoidance is my achievement.
Avoiding the fear of the opportunity to become something

You're No Robert Frost

2004-03-22T14:40:00.000-05:00

Their arms look to be breaking
beneath the wet white liquid
as the layers grow higher and deeper.
I wonder if they’re cold or tired,
empty or lonely.
Winter strips them of their natural beauty,
of their color.
As if to compensate for the suffering
she blankets them, temporarily
giving a magnificence
for all to gaze upon in wonderment.
I wonder if they feel proud or strong,
fulfilled or fearless.
As the appearance of cotton balls
begins to melt,
their limbs stand taller and stronger.
Energized by this short-lived reminder.

Breakfast

2004-03-06T16:51:00.000-05:00

Seven in the morning
And I’ve been up since five.
The traumatic dreams
Could not be willed away by sleep.
I want to go running; instead
I take codeine and cook rice.
My stomach aches.
The codeine will ultimately make it worse
But there’s a warm rush of relaxation
Just before the pain that I long for.
That I crave.

Zero to 60

2004-03-06T16:50:00.000-05:00

Irrational irritations.
Aggravation.
My imagination runs wild
Wondering what my obligation
Is to irrigate this emotional
Outbreak of agitation.

God You're Pathetic

2004-03-06T16:43:00.000-05:00

Waited.
Waited patiently all this time.
Thousands of hours,
For this one moment.
Convincing myself it would be the moment of a lifetime.
A moment worth waiting for.
Your lack of cooperation,
Your unwilling reciprocation,
Puts me in a quandary, confused.
Helpless, wondering how I could have waited
All this time.
Do you see me?
Do you feel me seeing you?
I am here,
Amidst the particles in the air,
Waiting.