Friday, August 29, 2008


im tired of everything;

of smoking

of pleasure

of friends

i dont want fortune

i want all your money to burn

i want the hell of life to encapsulate the world

so that it burns

and we all die

such wishes are unforgiving

they should shun you

and they do

in ecstasy

to disintegrate

or in the most quiet of dignities and solitudes

like those moments of living

where the volume has been turned down all the way

where everything around you has become mute and simple, charmingly small and powerless

the realization of futility

the core of belief

that nihilism

is the only way

this escape

makes everything easy

and empty

i dont care

im tired

i want to run away with birds

yellow canaries

in twilight

i want to burn up in the sun like icarus

i want to know my end before the end and step into it at the very moment of knowing

like a quest

i want reason

there is no reason in the fan spinning oppressive heat of this room

just chairs and a bed and a life's work of nothing

i want to pass out forever but not be dead?

these feelings press down on me

i want a mentor

for just me

but i hate them all

and i do not hate

but my body responds to this pain inside of me and makes it hate

and it consumes me more


why can't you 

i don't know

just make things better

you got us here

and now were left with terrible

we grew to pain

and we know it more than joy

the desperation was killed long ago

replaced by cruelty

make things beautiful

but late at night drunk in the bathroom

by the moonglow

in silence

you know that you are going to die early

and you know that you can't escape

because you made it so

and when you thought it

you agreed in blood

it hurt so much to stare in your face

in the dark

the molecules in the air around me

make more choices for me

than i do

they killed everyone before

Chaos killing now!

watch over me

but don't

the norwegian death clock strikes at 7

where's my big word

to give everything its greatest meaning

its lost 

in an ocean

the sunset dies with my hope

the latitudes of the world

are prison bars 

drill holes here

instructions soon to follow

the old men rule my lifeblood

i should drain it all out in front of them

do you ever want to make someone else feel pain

its natural


is crucifying

scream with me

we live in darkness

where's the light

i caught a shadow

the sound of the piano

makes me cry

i cried forever

in the past

in the future

my eyes are dry

Thursday, August 28, 2008

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

she was there. staying at the house by the mountains because her hospital was nearby and she said she was sick with something but i had always seen her fine. friends were driving back from the nursery with a mess of plants in the back of the old brown station wagon. i had smoked with him inside of it once. at that time he said it was more like a house; nevermoving from its driveway perch. the seats were all reclined back and we passed it back and forth staring at the garage. i remember talking like normal something about guilt and saving money. at twenty two time is still a vast ocean but sometimes it feels like you're drowning with no hope and its all your fault. you feel silly and used but you are still young. twenty two is a great conflict with everything. a spiritual battle of the mind. 

so she was there smiling looking beautiful and they unloaded large trees. 'these are medicinal.' i asked if i could have the product of whatever they were growing. he grinned at me and said, 'its not anything fun. its for dreams or; it doesn't do anything you'd think it'd do'. somehow i got the feeling they were growing something for seniors. i shrugged and walked down the street. i thought of her. she was with them right now, in that house of theirs and they were probably laughing. 

earlier she had been talking about the play and Whitney had said, 'Yeah its nice and all. But i don't know. its theater. no one 'really' likes theater.' and i had lashed out sitting on the sink with my hands behind me. 'you should check out the Rainbow Company sometime. its beautiful theater.' and i stopped. inside i had hoped that i was holding up her actions. but i felt foolish. she was strong enough on her own to say whatever. they were shooting pool and playing an old sega genesis. more school tomorrow. why wasn't there anyone close to me here?

where had all my comrades gone? i was dismayed and sad walking away and it occurred to me there might have been some gesture word play that would have made a difference. i was so bad at showing love, at showing interest.

i am the greatest master at feigning anything. a trick i learned which enabled me to get the things i want. ironically this trick had never once gotten me anything of value. and so it felt sometimes that the world i had built around me was very empty. i stared off into space. great anxiety welled up inside my chest and i sat on the sidewalk down by the curb. this is madness. i am in love with her, and what more i am slowly losing it and her and in time i know that my chest will feel all the better but my heart will be gone and my mind will be quiet and i will not know how to drum the song of life in my blood. i wanted to kiss her face. she would know me and know all the ways i worked and in every way that i was me and she would understand. 

and at this curb in my misery she descended down in the dusk with the hummingbirds in the air and the pale pink sky breaking apart in washes of black and gray. she was beautiful and smiling and it was finally now that she felt the invisible thread and curiously she wound her gentle fingers around it and followed it here, to me and now to us.

Thursday, August 21, 2008

kismet wilderness / mixed media / canvas

grafted skin

cancer wound

pilot light


memory loss

sound quiet

clear mind

wild foray

halo crack

fragile self


the world is yours

& mine.


subtle kiss

tender feelings

pangs ! sharp hatred





day outside is blinding. my relationships feel terribly used up, at the end of the entropic cycle. how can i understand the shapes of creation when we are so mortal. the utter complexity of time, building a quiet chaos that dismantles what i build. each throw lost in the seas of understanding. i know you. so that i am without you. you are foreign. the razors edge line of losing is awful. painful darkness at the end of the night. battling before the sunrise. not able to face the day. the moment is lost at the very instant of collapse. i must wonder how my body looks as it sleeps, lying there, both of us knowing each other intimately;



currently watching

currently reading

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

somehow i was in my closet looking for a 9 .mm pistol with a silencer attached to the end. i got in my car and the house was empty and so were the streets. until i made it to a hybrid k mart target strip mall in the middle of town. there i blew trees waiting for someone especially important to come out. i fiddled with the black gun, checking the chamber constantly, loading and unloading it, screwing and unscrewing the silencer, until i grew bored and stepped out of the car to take a look around.

it was hot but i couldn't see the sun. all i knew was that the sky overhead was checkered with white clouds and the blue day was a long stretch of waiting. i waited. i walked over to one of the stores and looked inside. the registers were all silent. people waited patiently for other people. the rows of clothes looked normal. i couldn't pick a single thing out, but i knew that there were pants, shirts, underwear, socks, belts, ties, pantyhose, polos, chinos, khakis, shoes, shorts; i stepped away and lost the head to my silencer under a black car. i kept cool weighing out my options, how much time i had left until this specific person would emerge, if i could kill him/her without the silencer; where had it fallen?

i searched around the entire vehicle until i felt too suspicious, keeping the gun tucked in the front of my shirt, i walked back to my car and smoked again and watched the trees in front of me. tall wispy wimps of trees. the kind of trees that aren't impressive but at the same time they have evolved to survive the barren desert, the high winds whip around and through them, never uprooting them even in the strongest of tempests. 

all i was doing was waiting for the black car to leave so i could put my gun back together. when it left i wandered over trying to look normal but a black expedition pulled up alongside of me and a man rolled his window down.

'there's trouble elsewhere. you shouldn't be here.' and he handed me the silencer piece and i looked at him puzzled. 'stop smoking you idiot. you are attracting unwanted attention.' then he rolled his window back up, waved goodbye and drove off. i felt a great urgency inside of me, as if the whole world was starting to slip away and if i didn't move then i would be sucked down into whatever hole it was falling into. i walked back to my car, through the wind, never once looking at anything but the car, entering, locking the doors, putting my piece back together, then driving off.

the car would barely move. a red motorcycle got caught behind me and right in the instant it was going to crash into me from its momentum, i got speed and drove off.

i ended up at a hotel that was engaged in its own private internal war. and there were beautiful women waiting inside, in the shower for me. but a ladder reached down from the outside of this bathroom. there was also an elevator, where my half sister was being forcibly held by the same gentleman who had given me my missing silencer piece. i decided to stay with the women who were naked and we had sex in the shower. afterwards we ended up on a yacht outside, a door had appeared in the same bathroom and they had exited naked, slender young women with long blonde hair giggling hysterically, unafraid of the gun, the man, my captured sister, or the war.

the yacht was being maneuvered by a young playboy who had a submachine gun by his side and hoards of women, running around a beach, on his yacht, he wore a red hat and motioned for me to come with him. i sighed and put my gun away and walked toward the boat.

the sound of waves against the shore, the endless stretch of dark vision ahead of me, as all the world was completely visible yet any detail, the sun, the stars, waxed away like the waves and i was left with a breathless vision of emptiness and a 9 . mm gun.

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Mourning pleasure / mixed media / canvas

this painting was commissioned by my friend taylor for his new apartment.

Monday, August 18, 2008

the lingering scent of my sister's perfume in the bathroom

my mom lying tired on the couch

the hum drone of the television 


she half sleeps

the days blow by endlessly

hot summer air 

each day approaching. approached. ending. end. again

the quiet stillness of monday in the house

there is nothing

with failure being pervasive




the smell of paint in my room

the quiet solitude of this place

its aesthetic principals laid out as a foundation for future creation

moments in time absolute, cemented by falling particles

the cold air blowing from the vents



sun drunk days

suburban wilderness

he said, 'i dont like explaining myself'

we have nothing to lose. stop worrying. we have nothing to lose. its already been lost. 

not a valid in the entropy game. entropy


i lose. 

no game play. no / game / play

trumpet horns

and piano blasts

shaking hands

in the dead office spaces

the party goes. / forever

i go with it. it comes with me. PARADE!

funeral procession

the dead left us. the living leave us for the other living. for living

objective: crypunch. cyberpunk living



scratch stitch nail bite kiss cry 



Sunday, August 17, 2008

my bathing hand

in standing moonlight

the objective

is to encompass yourself

in the faintest dim glow of life



/ expulsion


and returnance. 

the failure

was losing sight


other's feelings.

Saturday, August 16, 2008

such a beautiful movie.

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

calling for sex

breaking bones in the trees

wandering drains

wet body

crying game.

i am revival

and motion

who is waiting


wrestling / moaning

last bodies alive

greatest triumph


masking individual

with bright colors

black smiles

seditious lies



holding together

lustful / painful / bleeding / coming

calling you.

walking distance

away away

deepening distress

darkened tunnel

animal / horizon,

leaving this


Sunday, August 10, 2008

a marshal's rally

the roar of lions

shattered soldiers,


a red


a marshal's justice

of the elephant

wild marshal / mixed media / paper

school starting soon

the waning month of august

we're in the final throws of pleasure

Tuesday, August 05, 2008

Sunday, August 03, 2008

the funeral plays

and creeping through the darkened hallway


with the doorFrame by the Lightsquare


i am lost and alone in the dark

far away from everyone.

terror grips fear 

out of the corner of my eye


beautiful cold in the early morning

the funeral plays alone

the silence echoing

the listening

of the sleeping body.

if death is coming

the funeral plays tomorrow