May 2012
7 posts
“You know, there was a point when we were friends. I haven’t forgotten...”
5 o'clock
Is it a sin to be so longing? To fill in the gaps with a little more space, to fulfill lack of love with love for love?
Is it a sin to give into the demands for blood with blood, to close your eyes and for just once, accept that your best is just enough?
Is it a sin to stay just a little off-beat, a little off-center, a little off-rhyme when you’re weathering the splinters?
Well, once a...
“You’re a good luck charm! That must be it. Everything always seems to go...”
– UCB Delegate to me, UC Day 2012
“Love comes, love goes.”
WHEN I REALIZED I ONLY HAVE NEGATIVE DATA FOR MY...
whatshouldwecallgradschool:
April 2012
7 posts
bona fide
adj. 1. Made or carried out in good faith; sincere. 2. Authentic, genuine. 3. You.
I had a dream about you last night,
and
it went a lot like
that.
click click click
how do you form cacophany from the most beautiful of symphonies? easy: an idea. unreal, impossible, unattainable ideas are the most dangerous when they metastasize like tumor - when they form into memories from what was once hidden in the corner of a mind. once a dream, but now stands tall, flesh and bone. proof: an arm grazed; a hallucination, hazed. for one that never lived, rose petals on a...
March 2012
8 posts
Each moment that a moment’s close,
the universe always seems to glow
in quiet whispers, soft and slow:
“No, my dear, it isn’t so,”
and so I follow, ebb and flow.
situs inversus
Where’d you go, heartbeat?
You’re sure not where I left you;
the cavity in my chest feels empty,
lonesome.
Did you travel far?
Are you eating all your meals?
I haven’t touched your room.
It’s just as you left it.
I haven’t gotten any letters from you.
They must be getting lost in the mail.
That must be it.
Must be.
de novo
I’ll be your go-to;
you can bookmark me with
your prettiest post-it.
You can draw a star next to my name
in your prettiest shade of yellow.
Or you might even switch it up,
and trace it in a gorgeous cerulean or
a rosy shade of pink.
Can you imagine?
A pink star in the pitch black sky?
Gosh,
how new would that be?
Would it be nearly as new
as you used
to find
me?
fringe
I can’t wait to meet you again!
There’ll be a glimmer in my eyes,
and the flecks in yours will sparkle -
a robust shade of amber
that warms like a steaming hot mocha
during a late night of textbooks
and drab powerpoint slides.
Then I’ll tell you all about my universe,
but only through fair trade.
After all, I only expect revolutions from you,
nothing less.
Nothing...
always, k?
Me: u my homeslice
Me: i care u
Synth: although we do not live in the same pizza box
Synth: you will also always be a homeslice
Me:
resilience
You’re like the dust that
accumulates upon my
windshield after a windy
central valley day. You’re
that speckle that I can
never get off, as much
as I may try. You’re a
struggle, but not really.
You’re a war, but not
really. Not in the least.
What happened to you?
You used to harmonize your
leaps through every synapse.
In fact, your strength and
your laugh could make
kingdoms collapse.
But the laughter is cold now.
The rock is now brittle.
What once was an orchestra
has dwindled down to one fiddle.
February 2012
20 posts
There is such a beauty in the
softness of your voice,
that even when you are destroying me,
killing me,
tearing my heart apart
one stitch at a time,
all I can think about
is the beauty of your
language.
So after you are done
hiding me in a shallow grave,
please just
do me this one favor:
don’t ever
stop
singing.
transition
Read it back to me.
Read back the sighs
as if they were poetry.
Make it a fairy tale.
Make it about a ship
that glides with no sail,
about the umbrella
that triumphs the gale.
Teach me that like them,
we’ll also prevail.
Teach me in whispers.
Teach me in sing-song.
Teach me that my questions
can never be wrong,
though preciously infectious,
as if I knew it all,
all along.
mandible
When every decision
brings a sparkle of crimson
from a sliver of silver,
I’ll take the punches,
the stabs,
the kicks and the jabs.
Yet,
I’m not here for apologies.
Not here for atonement
or redeeming qualities.
After all,
I’m just vehemently ferocious,
preemptively precocious -
awfully awesome,
and awesomely atrocious.
bioluminescence
We’ll fly like fireflies.
We’ll cast our own light -
though cold and fragile,
it is innate.
It is immaculate,
even when all else
is locked in chains.
how to win Xa over, #5
Love to learn.
Love knowledge in all its nuances.
Embrace it in all its delicate curves.
Run your fingers through its pages,
and feel the same inspiration
from its theorems and laws
as you would feel
when you
look at
me.
syntax
I don’t invent apostrophes.
You and I don’t form contractions.
You and I, we’re not a “we’re,”
you’re a you
and I’m an I.
Apostrophes are not stones,
th’at you’ ca’n j’us’t
for’ce w’her’e’ver’ you’ s’o ple’ase.
Apostrophes are like puzzle pieces -
they fall into...
how to win Xa over, #1-4
1. joke in lame puns 2. acknowledge that lemon meringue is bomb 3. express passion for gelato 4. strike conversation about how cute bunnies are
I want to remind you,
every
single
day,
for the rest of both our lives,
how beautiful you are.
i ain’t nothin’ but a commentator
on a defeated dictator.
but damn, man.
holy shit.
is that a trip?
or is that a fall?
i can’t even recall you ever being that tall.
not at all.
mafia
play your trump card, badass. ain’t too hard when your bar is, “dat ass.” you strut as if you own, you shoot as if you pwn but you’re outdated, demonstrated by the flourish that you’ve shown. you’re just a cockblocked peacock. fine, you talk the talk and walk the walk, but your talk is hypocrisy. you preach democracy while you practice aristocracy. so damn,...
foragers
when our toes touch,
we wiggle them with a quiet
scritch scritch!
like scraping a washboard -
we’re just contributing to the jamboree,
even if it’s just from below the knees!
can you hear the melody?
if you can, then dance with me
and we’ll boogy down like honeybees
in spite of all catastrophe!
scritch scritch!
add sugar to taste
fingertips like cashmere,
soothing to the soul,
bringing heartbeats to the
heartless,
and sugarcane for the
bittersweet.
currently:
unpalatable,
but we bloom like saffron,
with taste of
honey.
petulance, with love
There once was a roaring great war,
where gore would adorn every door.
Oh, how I used to cry!
But now I just sigh;
this boar has become quite a bore.
Today, you are my beating drum.
But what becomes of you when tomorrow comes?
Will you stay a stray, or stand safe at bay?
Will you remain a foe until hairs grow gray?
I’d like to believe you’ll become your best,
but you still see me as your game of chess.
Yet, I play no pawn and I need no knight -
I’m “just a stone with no sense of flight.”
But between you and...
Hi there, nightingale - I know how you tire from being above and below, dancing with fire. You’re still making beds for the dead, while you can’t give more to the poor - but you stayed by my side as I bled though I was no more than a whore. So when I say hello, neither shame nor stutter for you deserve bellow, not unworthy sputter.
vigilante
Stitch a still frame from time, like
that moment when you march in
during the small hours of the morning,
and do your best to convince everyone
that you didn’t just spend all evening
fighting bad guys.
Le Etoille
Able-bodied souls soul-searching for more fables,
but succumbing to the labels that are laid upon the table.
If losing was a drug, then I’m an abuser of a loser -
cold sweat; heart attacks now secondhand maneuver.
Pulse rates off the charts - about to break the switch
for success and laughter make me out to be a witch,
but bottom-line, eye-to-eye, I’m just your average bitch,
just...
tea
Sunshine next to starshine,
connected by the light of supernovas,
completely unaware of all disaster,
because all that we can hear is
the resound of laughter.
It’s not that we don’t see
the catastrophe outside.
It’s just that we know
when to breathe and when to take a dive -
because it’s so much warmer here,
nexttoyou.
January 2012
29 posts
in perfect disorder
You are wonderful!
You are the reason why rainbows exist -
you transcend laws.
The laws of physics have nothing on you;
physics can’t explain how dreams can swirl
into reality, but you can,
because I know your secret!
I know that you came from a dream,
from a dream that I had one day,
a dream about
wonderful.
legs and fingers entwined
like vines on a lattice of pine,
except we cannot climb.
we are grounded. we are swine.
we are fated to become a toxic wine,
never to shine in the finesse of age,
for we are not so fine.
comparatively, we are brine.
we are perishable.
and only there, do we align.
the pattern
I am a captive. I am a tiger in a cage -
secured by the chains of swift heartbeat.
Fierce and commanding,
yet I provide contrast,
for I am neither noble nor discerning.
But always: intrigue;
all stories end in ellipsis.
Always: both danger and in danger;
lest it be stolen away,
hold tightly onto breath.
Carry it close, and let it carry you home.
Giving up has never been so beautiful.
Cross out the broken bridges,
take the tacks off the wall.
No more taking turns,
only the makings of revolutions -
the most monumental of momentums.
This is the sound of love renovated
and amity refurbished.
This is the fragrance of hope on fire.
lilacs and lemongrass.
This is what it is like to fly.
You are a taste that I don’t want to acquire,
a fledgling idea that I don’t want inspired.
Your stucco walls, I’d rather not break -
but that was never to be my decision to make.
For you are the diamond I left unpolished,
yet also the tower that I let demolish.
If you play the leading man, I’ll gladly be your biggest fan -
with no such thing as line to cross, no breath to leave us at a loss, no step exists to step too far, no kingdom built that needs for czar.
We’ll break no boundaries for we have no bounds; we’ll fire no bullets for we have no rounds -
just one luminous spotlight, just one transient fire:
that when you grace the...
