synapticjava: (devine inspiration)
( Nov. 4th, 2007 03:14 pm)

Spinning and lilting

     white and heat.

 Stench of wildberries

and soft linen.

  Desert pressed against my face.

Cacophony of children




         Rusty steel wheel


scraping,  scratching against

vinyl mud flooring stacked beneath cinder walls.

 Cold white plastic against my fingertips.

Folding my secrets on a mint green counter.

Naked for the world to see.


Another Sunday afternoon

underdeveloped and overexposed.

When will my ship come in?

synapticjava: (devine inspiration)
( Oct. 28th, 2007 08:28 pm)
Crackling static dribbles from the stereo speakers;
the crashing wind screams and freezes through the cracked window
as I slice through the night on burning rubber.
The lights of the city glow like embers against the twilight sky behind me.
My slick palms grip the wheel, knuckles white and aching.
Every piece of me is throbbing, exhaling, humming, singing.
Laughter is pressed against my lips,
my tongue rolling against my teeth in a silent grin.
I cannot keep still the thoughts and fantasies that hopscotch through my mind,
the daydreams and longings that pierce this newly unlocked vault that is my heart,
my soul.
Even as my shoe mashes the iron pedal against the synthetic floor
I feel myself drifting, floating, sailing slowly and steadily
towards a place I feel safe, towards a place I feel normal again.
To you.

This is but one memory of a thousand
which would that I could be rid of.
Only one of a thousand sleepless nights remembering rememberings
which I only wish to forget.
synapticjava: (devine inspiration)
( Oct. 8th, 2007 07:55 pm)
I want to wake up
and know that I am me,
whomever me should be
and understand that the me I am
doesn’t have to be any one him or thing.

I want to open my eyes
and see the world changed
but still the same
with eyes clear and unglazed
by tears or sleep or pain or tiredness.

I want to touch
with fingers unmarked
by flame or bruise or blade
and feel the wet breeze against
my drowning flesh.

I want to taste
without the familiar ash
of longing and sour regret
glued against my tongue
and drink deep this life.

I want to sleep deep
and guarded against the night
without dreams of what once was
and never will be
and without this numbness creeping into me.
synapticjava: (Default)
( Oct. 3rd, 2007 06:38 pm)
another sunset bleeds up my chest.
I am blinded
as the dying daylight catches fire against my face.
cool wind dusts my body;
another night is breathing softly against me
and pushing the hands further around the clock.
the window panes glow with my reflection
like a television set turned on against the darkness.
somewhere in this empty apartment coffee drips
echoing like rain in a gutter
its dark scent filling this empty space
with the smells and sounds
of an unused
synapticjava: (Default)
( Aug. 30th, 2007 08:51 am)
Somehow this is my response to [ profile] tabaqui's prompts of "green, anise, wool." I think maybe I'm a little rusty.

A stolen moment. )


synapticjava: (Default)


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