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no love poem [Aug. 11th, 2009|08:41 pm]
my cheeks heat,
heart beats, knees and feet are weak...
as i sit staring from the valley of the shadow of love.

I climb your body and peer in through the wide window of your eyes.

If i could i would slip inside
and soar through the corridors of your thoughts,
painting portraits of me to hang in your memory.

I'd unpick the capillaries that bind your heart
and stain it with my fingerprints.
Claim it with the essence of me, my love and my identity.

I'd scream my name through the top of your lungs,
so that when you breathe asleep
my name may pass between your teeth.

But my glance hits glass
and your glazed gaze contains a sad reflection.
Silhouetted against a blue moon is a boy in a man costume.

It would cost you nothing to let me in, but i would find fortune.
Perhaps you'd find wealth too, if you had a clue of the truth,
and only knew that i love only you.

my cheeks heat,
heart beats, knees and feet are weak...
as i sit silently in the valley of the shadow of love

Syllables collect dust at the back of my tongue.
My love song is unsung
for twenty long years.

tears near a downfall.

i close the shutters of my eyes incase it pours.
I'm suddenly conscious of all of my flaws,
my thoughts are unsure and there's a worm at my core.

my cheeks heat,
heart beats, knees and feet are weak...
as i sit in solitude in the valley of the shadow of love.

a mere observer.
perhaps i could rise to be a guardian,
but that would be news to me.

maybe my soul longs to be free?
rather than tied to that of another,
and applied to that of a lover.

i will never hide from my brothers
to cry to my mother.
but will i ever be satisfied by my brothers?

i cry to my mother.

my cheeks heat,
heart beats, knees and feet are weak...
as i sit shivering in the valley of the shadow of love.
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(no subject) [Jan. 31st, 2008|02:04 pm]
[feeling.. |blankblank]
[tune.. |sususmu yokota - purple rose minuet]

 i just finished reading the amber spyglass and it has left me feeling extremely inadequate.

I read the trilogy for the first time when they were originally released and although this was only a few years ago (or well around 9 since the first, eugh!)  it has been an entirely different experience this time round. When i read them at that age i was simply excited by the action, the witches, the travelling to new worlds and discovery of new places and beings. But i didn’t see any of the deeper substance of the books. This time there i would frequently stop during the books to repeat a single sentence in my head over and over entranced by its simplicity and profound meaning. I have spoken to a few people about this and told “when i was younger i didn’t see the deeper meanings of much of it at all”. Was i really that much younger?

I was ignorant. And i think probably willingly so. Did i fail myself at that age? Driven by others to achieve goals that were mere parodies, imitations and misinterpretations of what i truly desired and following these led my wishes to become transposable and indistinguishable from every other coin at the bottom of the pool, a dirty alloy of once pure elements producing a terminal for individuality. I did recognise this though, feeling a cork in my throat trying to prevent me from playing the notes of conformity and instead create a call of creativity and curiosity, or a fanfare of fury. But instead i follolloped along on the back of this here fly and let other areas of my intellect diminish. When i look at that time i have a full body muscle memory ( which rather than being rose-tinted is saturated with a deep aching regret – like looking at a photo and sighing “what was a thinking when i struck that pose” but where the pose is infact the continuous motion of life) of the slow seeping rise of excitement in a rebellion. “i will not do what you do” “i will not entertain myself intellectually with an interest in literature, politics or history or any of those things” although a trip to a castle was always enjoyed. I decided that “art” was what i was interested in, but of course “art” without literature etc. Has very little substance.

Unlearned, oblivious, immature, ignorant, unopinionated, lost. Lost.

I have lost myself in words, and don’t know where i’m going. But really that illustrates my thoughts. I never nurtured myself on words when i was younger. I want to dance like a dictionary .

Communication. Language. Speech. Connection. Shared thoughts.

These things come to me rarely and i don’t know why. Perhaps it is due to my lack  flexibility and knowledge of the construction of verse. Maybe it’s because i am still driven towards impersonal goals. Possibly something else.

I didn’t talk when i was a toddler at all. Maybe part of my brain doesn’t function properly.

Maybe i need to make an effort.

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newwww number [Mar. 15th, 2006|08:48 pm]

i transferred all my old numbers over so i dont need your numbers... butttt if you think i dont have it already then tell me.

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(no subject) [Feb. 19th, 2006|07:00 pm]

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thalidomide a musical [Feb. 6th, 2006|10:43 pm]
i want to go so much
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faat picture post [Jan. 1st, 2006|02:39 pm]


blap!Collapse )

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(no subject) [Dec. 22nd, 2005|06:47 pm]
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(no subject) [Dec. 15th, 2005|10:49 pm]
Dear Santa...

Dear Santa,

This year I've been busy!

In October I gave change to a homeless guy (19 points). Last Thursday I committed genocide... Sorry about that, irishpaddy67 (-5000 points). In August I gave thealternative a wet willie, then I took it back (-5 points). Last Friday I turned ize_eyes in for farting in church (3 points). In April I ruled Duluth, Minnesota as a cruel and heartless dictator (-700 points).

Overall, I've been naughty (-5683 points). For Christmas I deserve a spanking!


Write your letter to Santa! Enter your LJ username:

fuck me ive been bad. patrick had it coming though. drop out. psh.
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john hilliard [Dec. 11th, 2005|07:17 pm]

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(no subject) [Nov. 30th, 2005|06:46 pm]


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