Thursday, August 17, 2006

The Muse Hotel

Lies and Lace
Originally uploaded by EvilxElf.

At the muse hotel tonight
I have a rendezvous with a sight

She sits in waiting
On the red sombrero sofa
Her nails glossy and scarlet
Her lips glisten for attention

At the muse hotel tonight
She haunts the dimly lit lobby

She sits in waiting with
With a Gitane in hand
On the red sombrero sofa
Her hands smooth and veinless

I step from the courtyard
Into the checkered floor lobby
Like a lamb going to the altar

This strange dark haired woman
Where she comes from I know not
But she has an appointment

She sits in waiting
On the red sombrero sofa
Like Salome before her last dance
With lips glistening and liquid
Scarlet nails gently tapping
On a priest’s wicked sickle

She waits for the pulse of my blood
She waits for the warmth of my flesh
I have a rendezvous with appetite
At the muse hotel tonight

much gratitude to Maria for the use of the photograph

the waystation

i am in this empty house, drifting
in her imagined scent and soft skin.

beyond the doors are sand and cool sea
and this may be the place where i die.

not and end, a point of departure.
i shall miss the quirky endearments;

the look of the eyes and curve of lips;
the strange smile she sometimes shows.

i always wondered what it was like
or felt, to be on the backside of a mirror.

manhattan beach. october 2004


i wrote the first draft of this almost two years ago. it took a longer time to let go of something in order to finish the piece.

Tuesday, August 15, 2006

24 hours

the last 24 has been full of disturbances.

in my waking moments. in my sleep. in my in-betwen states where i hold most closely. something, someone out there has been trying to get in. it or they have been trying my patience, my desire to breathe, my desire to see the beautiful in everything when they aren't pretty. i feel the pressure like a cold cut of steak on the inside of a ziploc bag, waiting to be thawed, dried, salted and peppered like the one i fixed just that way for dinner. a piece of protein butchered, trimmed and saved just the way that those who might have me might like it.

i resist and i think there is still is resistance in me. i'll resist most likely long after i physically can't because i have words. i have pictures.

the anger is what is coming out of me now. the anger caused by fear comes out from me. it doesn't make the fear go away but its familiarity makes it possible to roll it all into something i can learn to deal with. i've learned i can live and live and live and speak my intent despite my fear. i will never shut up because i simply don't know how to. i am heisenberg's principle.

last night i had a dream of visiting an old woman, someone i didn't recognize but she was like an aunt or something like that. she was somewhere distant from where i am. my mother was with me. when we got there, her house was flooding. the level of the water was up to her bed, it touched her body. she was getting cold. her breath was passing from her body when i reached her and lifted her head, held her slender frail neck.

it was too late. she had gone. gone from the coldness and constant insane stupid self serving and pointless questioning of this world and i couldn't reach her anymore. i held her fading head in my hands with her body in the rising wet and cold water.

i awoke disturbed and crying. i wanted to vent my hurt and rage upon the face of this planet.

i wanted to walk out onto the desert and with a silken blade cut every throat of the idiots out there and more. i wanted pure destruction. enforced destruction in order to guarantee the cessation of stupid loss of life.

i am not political. i am fragile and human. i am so fragile i am completely willing to destroy half the planet in order to enforce quietude. level the whole fucking place so i'm no longer separated from the places and people i want to be close to. level the fucking idiots so that the bystanders don't have to suffer another eon of shit. and then others will level me and for a brief moment there will be quiet and kids can play in the yard or the river or the orchard field without worrying about land mines.

Monday, August 14, 2006

people who support

i am today, this moment, in this place am so tired of people who say they want to support me asking the same godamn fucking questions that there aren't answers for and asking for guarantees where there are none. at least none that i can deliver. to be fair i understand that they ask because they are fearful of things they don't understand. nevertheless there is a limit to all and i ask myself why i fucking bother. why do i fucking flying bother?