Tuesday, January 24, 2012

There 's death in his eyes...

There's death in
His eyes.

(Or a misstep in the heart)

And the hair does covers his face,
Strangling the neck.

I can hear his heart
Stumbling over the ground

And the sweat above
My browww Washes
over my face.

As the nerves rummage
Through the body
Making my
Hair stand up and
Take notice.

And the clouds upstairs
Are getting angry.

As they as well
Come down once again
upon me.

Sunday, January 22, 2012

My feet are firmly planted to the ground below...

For love of

And so, did so blindly.
With eyes closed,
(Feet like trees)

But what is,
After not.

A run towards death.
As such, a lifelike scene.

But who knows,
What madness will bring.

A life come madly,
Or a death in spring.

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

#2. Part two/ or how I cannot somehow complete whole sentences.

After watching for prolonged amounts of time, I can feel the zombification coming on in. As my body slowly succumbs and becomes one with the couch as it outstretches its arms and starts to assimilate myself like some borg offshoot of evolution. And at this point, I believe it good to get up and get ready for work, before my mind breaks up and breaks apart. In the kitchen the walls are painted a dull blue, they haven't been painted over in awhile and give off a kind of retro feel to it all. The cupboards are of those ugly browns that your grandma had since the dawn of civilization.I can still hear the tv in the background as I rummage through the cupboards looking for whatever I can find. I usually make the same thing pretty much everyday. A sandwich that consists of peanut butter and jam and the usual line up of something I can just chew on like almonds or carrots or the like. After the kitchen lay in a crumbled mess of the unwanted pieces of bread that for unknown reasons decided to bail mid sandwich. I get dressed and do what I need to in the bathroom. Opening the door to the outside world is much like the supposed experience of dying. There's a bright white blinding light and than gently in the distance some figures start to appear, but in this case you don't get all the mess of being dead. A hamper on the rest of the day I would believe. Just to the right of my house across the street the buildings begin to rise up, the corner of the city called chinatown that's so full of locals and tourists alike, but a great place to eat nonetheless. The streets here are always crowded with the wide eyed and confused as they cram push and at times force there way into the shops to buy crap they will eventually discard into the lower rungs of the outside world. and It has a type of apocalyptic poetry to it all, as the buildings here are leaning on the side of should be torn down. All the alleyways as I pass by have a very human scent to it, in the worst possible way. And the walls are all covered in graffiti and cracks that seem to emanate from the very core of the earth.the coffee shops here are all asian owned and operated and mostly do bubble tea. The best I can find is a esquire that is oddly crammed in between to other buildings that appear comparitively broken . This is the usual place I hit whenever I might find myself out and about. But two streets over and to the right towards the house is a ittle fast food shop that arguably sells the best chinese food in the city, so on most days you might normally be able to find me.but back Inside the coffee shop I order just a coffee two sugars and be on my way, outside the doors I attempt to light a cigerette but the slight wind factor doesn't permit me for about two or three tries. And the people are pushy, as I try to get out of there way. I usually stop here almost every morning, not sure why, complete boredom I imagine. Seeing I have enough coffee at home to do me the day. Its getting to be that time when the tourists really  come out in hoards and have there confusion laced frenzy of which way to go. In the distance I can begin to see the outer linings of the office building. One half of it has the windows peeking around the corner like some crazy old man stocking some unknowing prey. And the city is a lonely place when your all alone, for I have been doing this for entirely too long. But this happens every morning, the closer I get the more seemingly tired I become. The problem I believe stems from the fact I know how my whole day is going to draw out. And it will be like that tomorrow the next day and until untold weeks on end. The office windows now tower over me, watching me with those disdain and judgmental eyes. And the hairs upon the back of my neck stand up. And it almost overpowers me, drawing me in like some star wars tractor beam. So I can't help but giving up, and giving in

Sunday, January 08, 2012

The lonely life of trees./thinking to myself in a disorderly fashion.

Outside the window the tree has overtaken the yard, partially blocking out the sun. The fence is broken and tattered in places with the white paint being chipped off and weathered. And the world keeps on going by no matter what I may do with myself. Almost as reassuring as a thought can be, an just as isolating. My hands are clasped around the lip of the window sill, and my hair falls in my face every now and than as I brush it back against my earlobe. But I can start to smell the scent of coffee running through the air and contaminating the walls and the counters,as they are a mess, but I haven't been in the mood to clean in days. I have one of those single serve coffee makers like the ones you see in offices or something, a little smaller but all the same none the less. And I don't usually work in the mornings. Which I like actually. Just to be able to sit around all morning and relax is pretty nice. I am used to being by myself, as I have been doing that for a few years now. I have been in a relationship or two though, but haven't for reasons unknown worked out. It always ends almost the same, they breaking up with me or stop calling all togethor. I suppose its destiny, as some might call it. And so with that in mind, and coffee cup in hand, I go take a seat on the couch. Its one of those old thirties ones with the wooden arm rests and the ugly green fabric. The coffee table actually fits in quite nicely,as its perfect as one of those fifties kitchen tables, I just shortened the legs. I got it from this garage sale a few years back, I had no use for it but you don't see them very often anymore. I love going to garage sales. Digging through peoples crap they don't want or care for no more. Sad in a way. These were once all great and sought after stuff.On the most part. Now all have fallen and found there way at the bottom. But that's ok, we all find our way there eventually, some earlier than others. Now flipping through the channels on the television proves all but boring. As i only still get the basic channels, And too many channels usually brings confusion along with it. And this is my normal everyday madness of getting up before work. My idiosyncratic routine of day in and day out. I work just a couple blocks up in a office building, a editor for some midlevel paper. How I got the job I will never know. I have my own little office there all cut off from the rest of the people. Why should work be any different than the home. But I am getting off topic, and off focus, as the television is still yelling its name at me to find a channel I might rather prefer. So after surfing around a bit and finally finding one I put the controller down and begin to feel myself start to relax. Some educational show on volcanoes, specifically the one in yellowstone. Odd how things work out. As I am sitting here in the false pretense of security all the while mother nature plots and plans against us, meaning to or not. How fragile a society we are, sitting like kings, as the cavalry slowly rolls in.

Sunday, January 01, 2012

untitled and uncomplete (lack of#8)

Inside the cafeteria the dust has settled. And abruptly taken over, seemingly. The tables are empty, and the chairs are dead. And as it seems they seem to be shot down, tipped over, or generally scattered about. And the place is creepy, even more so than the rest of the place. The walls creak as the fans moan and yearn and call out your name. With every step I take the dust does rise, fall and make its way to the bottom of my feet. Going towards the kitchen the counters are empty, the tills are silent. And the little windows to view today's menu is all but lacking anything that might be considered food. I jump over and go to the back in the kitchen. In here everything is a mess. Pots, pans and everything in general have somehow found there way to the floor or piled themselves in neat little mountains in the sinks spilling over like a man made volcano. Some of the many cupboards are open as I drag my finger across the metal surface of one of the counters. And the dirt has piled itself on and over and back onto itself. I dig through a few shelves here and there pushing my way through numerous diseased and filth encrusted silverware bowls and every now and than what appears to be what used to be some kind of edible unknowns. I would think at some point I would notice some kind of rust of decomposition in the metal or even wood at one time or another, but it only appears to be the food that has done that. Maybe I haven't been here for too long after all. In the back I can see what appears to be a freezer door or something. Burrowing my way through the mess I make my way there to open the door. Inside all the ice has over run and taken over,ice crystals hang from the ceiling like knifes. And I feel like I am in some indy movie, as if its going start to come down on me any second now. And I am bored, tired, and not wanting to do this anymore. I knock down some of the ice and begin to go through the shelves finding everything gone beyond recognition. After about twenty minutes or so. And Its surprisingly roomy in here as I make my way around pushing all the stuff from side to side slowly getting a little more frantic as the time passes. But it all seems to be falling apart. After about half an hour or so I give up and head back out. Everything here seems to be gone with time past. And I guess its time to be on. As I find myself on my way, all the tables are still in there disorderly fashion. And footprints are abound. I stop suddenly and bring my shovel up to my shoulders in unwanted anticipation. And from the door I see them arise. One after the other in a most chaotic matter pushing shoving and generally making the way toward me. I look down with a sigh and take a deep breath and think, you know what, fuck it! And at that I run towards them, knocking the first one in the gut and doing a one eighty hitting another behind then back to the first with a mighty blow downwards to the head. And there's no time to think as they continue to surround and make there way in. So I jump on one of the tables swinging at anything that attempts to come at me. And I am looking out over the world on the verge of death. As I continue to kick, punch, and do whatever it takes to keep them off as I see only one way out. And there all packed in now, making a more so than not circle around me. So with a deep breathe and a uneasy sigh, I go for it. Stepping on heads shoulders whatever I can as I cautiously ( and as probably of no help) clutch onto the ceiling above. And miraculously like some crazy scene in a movie I make my way to the door. Swinging at anything that might try to make its presence known. Through the door, without even thinking, I run my way to the front of the hospital, make a sudden pause as if I am making some leap over some cliff to the waters below. And open the door. Outside to the right there's a yellowish white wall parallel to me running about 50 or so feet . On the left a small garden fixed with trees and small colorful flowers of some kind. As I stand there looking around wondering what to do next. I notice that there is no discernible smell to conceive of. The clouds in the sky look relatively similar to each other. And something just somehow doesn't feel right. I look back upon the doors that followed and all the things,creatures, or whatever are all banging on the door. Like they all want to come out but just can't figure out how. I start to make my way to the end, trying to focus on what may eventually be out there. The shovel in my right hand hangs lazily against my feet , and I hang onto it more tightly than ever now. At the end I find myself standing in front of the hospital parking lot. And its all but empty, a complete lack of cars or any human presence whatsoever. And it feels lonely standing in the dark with no apparent world to conceive of. Out in the distance I can see the buildings jettison out of the ground like old retired monoliths from countless ages ago. The grass has now but overgrown, finding its way through the cracks in the pavement. And the lights situated throughout have all but died out seemingly years before. through the parking lot land across the street lay a couple of buildings that are more than likely deserted. Made up of bricks they bare the strain of unrepair. I motion to open the door of one of the shops here and notice a lock hanging there on chains covered in dust an dirt. I shake the door around a bit not quite sure what to expect, but nothing happens. The windows are shaded over with overgrown dust. And there appears to be a complete lack of color, instead going for a few shades of grey. Oddly enough though the only color I have seen is the flowers in the garden by the hospital. As I walk up and around the corner I now see the nature of things taking hold and wrapping themselves around the buildings. But i guess everything looks colorless under the light of the moon. Down the street a little more the city rises up higher and higher. I check a couple more doors on the way down and there all locked. Looking inside all the windows everything is still in perfect order. As if the people have all but vanished. But if that is so than why all the locked doors. A ways down a bit I finally find a open door, a little corner market that's named appropriately. Up around the corner or some odd name like that. Inside the fruit is past on. The floors are all cracked, and you can still see glimmers of the true color every now and than. The normal checkered black and white. The walls are a washed out green, with the dairy coolers surrounding the room. In the back to the left I notice the bottles of water in one of the coolers. I grab a bunch and stuff my clothes with as many as I can. Off in the distance, not too far away, I can still see the silouette of the hospital. Slowly disappearing to the point of being unrecognizable.




like sea.

but man do
take, need

about after...

knife like dream