My photo
:, Indonesia
I do not speak my truth to antagonize you.... I share this swollen river running -- This waterfall of faith-- because it flows from me like lennon's endless rain.... --my paper cup: this poem-- to which an endless string of words spill out and on to... I stain the sentences with abundant articulations that boil inside of me... I thirst, I starve, I crave. and all that quenches... all that can satiate me is to open the faucet and allow the words to run... They skip and dance across themselves... They formulate on their way out like fireworks deciding which way they will face when they open and sizzle in the night air... And when they do... it's a sight to behold. It shocks me like the boom, and takes me aback to see what has emerged. And Keroac knew. He knew all along... that I was one. As my words explode like spiders across the sky... I watch in staggering wonder at my truth revealed and know that I am home here. I have taken my vow... signed in blood... solemnly sworn myself in... been hazed and pinky promised... and I know... without the shadow of a doubt... that I am a mad one. ...and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

a bit of pessimism...

i looked before i leapt
and found myself falling
...toppling with the tower all the same.

i softened my heart
and still heard it shatter
... like shrieking needles up my spine.

i gave you my all
and you begged me for more.
and when i gave you that too
this empty shell deflated.
collapsed and imploded.

and these broken pieces of me
were left lying lifeless
upon these dusty floorboards
cold and catatonic.

my deadened eyes watched life's speeding freight-train blow past me.

that's when i realized that i had given up hope.

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