Monthly Archives: February 2009

An Edge My Own

Everything should be set for me to start classes next month. Haven’t been feeling so great lately. Tired, and I’m letting people and their opinions get to me. You know, watching the news, listening to people bitch and whine while I try to remind myself to breathe, and not have everyone else’s problems drag me into a worse mood. It happens too often…

Anyway, I’ve decided that even with school going on for the next few months, I have to set aside time to write. It will probably be bland and not worth the ink but writing it down anyway will probably keep my mind open to some stranger ideas. I’m hoping.

Here’s a new poem too. It’s basically rolling up everything, the past with the feeling that it can turn you into something unrecognizable, how past events can sometimes catch up and suddenly ruin the present. And I guess it’s also about being on edge, ready for something to break.

A harsh pattering of ice

Novice slits falling from the sky

Delivered chill of the wind chime

Lightning’s blizzard hidden strike

Mirrors broken before dawn, of

Night’s hypnotic dissolution

Snaps and screams and tears within

Ruins the mornings fail to mend

I’m grin eclipsed; they all misconstrue

Lost truth turning the ready screw

Smoked glass, its break few cracks away

They’ll wait then worry once it’s too late

But no, the airy, joyous fools have fled

Their terrorizing hope at rest

As I lean against an edge my own

Refuse of time, in moments of a

Depthless mould


1 Comment

Filed under Art, Death, Life, personal, poems, poetry, Thoughts

Almost Done

I went in for my second tb test yesterday and unfortunately, the injection site this time was my left arm. She didn’t say anything though. It was the same medical assistant from my last visit. She’s very nice, and now that I’ve gotten back on my medication, I was sort of foggy when I went in and I wasn’t so bothered by the whole thing.

My mom was talking about looking for a psychiatrist instead of another therapist. That way I won’t have to make two different appointments, I’ll be able to see one person for my prescriptions and check ins, so I’ll be searching around for one. I think it’ll work out better, and I’ll be less nervous about this whole thing.

It’s been a while since I’ve posted any art, but ideas have been slow coming, and I’ve been distracted by two songs I’m working on. The rose/flower thing above is an example of my sloppy art…lol. I was so bored the day I painted it I couldn’t focus.

Alright, the first poem below is one more directed at society in general (my city and all) and it’s meant to sound gross and mean in a way. The other is referring to some things that went on in my past. The second one is older, I’m just posting it late. I’ll have something very new to share probably tomorrow, when I’m done with the edit.

(untitled still)

Leave them to rot

Hey, isn’t that our dream?

Don’t we want the unwanted as

Dead bodies on our streets?


City’s fifty heat strokes

For our wealthy five 

From dead, cash spent, safe

Old ways and empty sacrifice


Leave this filth and destruction

Ignore until we die

Untamed, for our greedy games

Are never wastes of time


Deep Seated  



Strained amid the fight

Arguing regret and lies


The child within was broken

I worried someone would die

As each event was woven-

Widened eyes; a lose of mind

Then- blue moon, halfhearted hugs

My arms stiffening to the touch


All my hopes,

Murdered that night

For every wrong never made right…


1 Comment

Filed under Art, Death, Life, personal, poems, poetry, Thoughts

Until no one is left

Swift, cruel and violent

World, come to end

One bloody image at a time

Until no one is left, we fight


For celebrated tragedies…

Restore me to a certainty, the

Gloom of my burnt conscience

Of wounds in resolution spread


In shadows we can not out run

Of darkness never overcome

Any fight for the living-

Shall never be won


I’m a little gloomy today I guess. The painting above is one I did about two weeks ago, trying to produce something constructive from the agitation I was feeling, so it’s meant to look unpleasant with the way the lines bend and break.

1 Comment

Filed under Art, Death, poems, poetry, Thoughts