I remember this Jon Hillenbrand, October 21, 2010December 30, 2015 You’ll know if this makes sense to you: “And it starts, sometime around midnight. Or at least that’s when you lose yourself for a minute or two. As you stand, under the bar lights. And the band plays some song about forgetting yourself for a while. And the piano’s this melancholy soundtrack to her smile. And that white dress she’s wearing you haven’t seen her for a while. “But you know, that she’s watching. She’s laughing, she’s turning. She’s holding her tonic like a cross. The room’s suddenly spinning. She walks up and asks how you are. So you can smell her perfume. You can see her lying naked in your arms. “And so there’s a change, in your emotions. And all these memories come rushing like feral waves to your mind. Of the curl of your bodies, like two perfect circles entwined. And you feel hopeless and homeless and lost in the haze of the wine. “Then she leaves, with someone you don’t know. But she makes sure you saw her. She looks right at you and bolts. As she walks out the door, your blood boiling your stomach in ropes. Oh and when your friends say, ‘What is it? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’ “Then you walk, under the streetlights. And you’re too drunk to notice, that everyone is staring at you. You just don’t care what you look like, the world is falling around you. You just have to see her. You just have to see her. You just have to see her. You just have to see her. You just have to see her. You know that she’ll break you in two.” Lyrics by: The Airborne Toxic Event Poetry herlovephotographyPoetry
Poetry Perspective May 27, 2010December 30, 2015 This is a poem I wrote about how inspired to write I feel whenever I’m out running at night. Usually I think of a lot of things to write, but then I start to forget everything as fatigue sets in. Quick, run inside The words will hide Cuz’ words don’t… Read More
Poetry Dropping the soap June 14, 2008December 30, 2015 So you know what I’m really good at? Avoiding soap to foot impacts in the shower. I’m like the Smith from the Matrix movies who could avoid all those bullets. I think it’s a very useful skill to have. Now if only I could work on not dropping the soap…. Read More
Poetry Crystallized Porcelain January 27, 2019January 27, 2019 Crystallized porcelain alights on the window of the poet, waiting for him to notice. He watches as the sun melts her just enough to fall away and glide on the wind like a smoke. She turns, rises and falls like a bedroom breath, glittering through his life, a chaos of… Read More