late as usual,
finally the wake-up comes,
inches over inches
muscles move,
slowly, no rush to leave the cave,

driven out by gnawing
impossible to ignore, with an angry rumble,
Houston, we have liftoff

no groceries, no money,
scrounge for snacks, drink some water,
fending off starvation - survivor mode,

make some art, hear some tunes,
read some stuff, stay up late,
do some work… maybe,
write some poems,
some decent, some shitty,

and get some sleep,
hit repeat.

bum lifestyle
that’s how I do

somehow, I’ve become loose,
untethered, now floating
amongst once familiar facades,
a malfunctioning cog unwittingly dislodged from the machinery
whose multiple faces are not foreign yet still cause unease,
can anyone relate?
cheeks glow a rose pink, discomfort
etched deeper by the populace than by acid bite,
surrounded by a ring of well-known strangers,

I belong and I don’t,
feeling like a heap of alien matter on unfamiliar terrain

little gray houses row by row,
recognizable as human dwellings
yet alien and unnatural to this earth

around them trees like frail giants, towering
but thin and emaciated, barren and fragile
with limbs like black lace against baleful slate skies

fat drops collide with glass
and the sharp ratatat blows the silent film to pieces

impossibly difficult to decipher,
conflicting gestures all have one thing in common,
selfishness, you are its definition,
burnt and frostbitten, what am I
but a matter of mere convenience? bruised
by your callousness,
battered and mislead by sugared moments and hopeful whims.

a gifted linguist, I admit,
with an impressive way with words,
but words are only words
flying easily, carelessly, through lips to graze skin with
feather soft touches and cooing static,
I am static
you are static
we are both static.
and at a standstill we wait,
yet even in our ridiculous impasse we are not motionless,
a mocking contradiction,
not moving but still moving

endless circles spinning round

ceaseless in their routine revolutions,
dizzied minds whirl in this repetitive lovelorn haze
destructive in nature but without end in sight,
fool. break free before you are broken,
useless…
invaluable advice falls upon deaf ears and shatters on impact,
while former disregarded pieces gaze up with sad eyes.
addicted to the ache, what can I do
but spin helplessly? the motion violent and disorienting.

this is a dangerous game we’re playing
where losers lose all. but in peril lies excitement’s allure

2010 has passed away, 2011 has just been born.

Expectations and anticipations…
Let’s hope it’s a good year.