Restraint

So this may be one of my favorite poems I've wrote, just based on the fact that there's a coherent pattern, a beginning, middle, end, and it makes sense, rather than my other stuff.

And it means a fucking lot. To me. Not you.

"Restraint"

I pick it up
And then put it back down again.
Dial tone dies
And revives like a long lost friend.
I decide not

Because I've been taught
That there are emotions you allow
And there were the emotions I fought
To keep it parallel normalcy.
I don't give it all up to save Pandas in China
Just for the sake of advocacy
Don't sell my house and my car
Because I had a dream you'd be abducted to Mars.

No
My rationale keeps them hidden
Locked away in a safe underground a local Wells Fargo
In order to not cry every hour, I must stow
Them away today.
Birds wings flutter
And as I mutter
"I thought we'd enjoy another stroll along the avenue once more"
Why, I'm on my way once more out the door.

And not a swinging door. It's more revolving.

Because I spend my entire life solving
What isn't right with me.
Or more like
What's wrong and what do I do?
Would I sacrifice myself for my new found religion
Where I walk along streets having philosophical talks with pigeons?

But they fly away.

Or do I spend day by day
Sabotaging each opportunity that appears?
Such as when I'm on a flight home
Nervously eating peanuts that are slightly salted
And the passenger next to me has halted their progress through the magazine
They lean
Ever so close and say
"What's your name? What's your sign? I was born in May."

And I sit and stare out the window
Locked in daydream lust
As I have utmost trust
That the rock I threw into the ocean
Stayed near the shore, battling the tides, just for this one man.
A jilted (or soon to be) lover
Who took fire from opposing sides, and ducked for cover
Instead of firing back and hitting the sack
With arms full of possibilities
Rather than an arm full of feathers and a flock of birds in bad weather
(Alongside the plane I mean)

And on this flight I'll dream
Of that one single occasion
Outside the bus, or train, or taxi cab station
And then I'll laugh.
(Haha)
Actually, I'll be devastated
Like a worm that's hooked, baited, and ultimately fated, and looks to God in awe.

Then I'll be crying into shots of vodka
Finding new ones to shoot the breeze
Oh, they'll be the bees knees as they squeeze
Into stupid dresses
Turn their faces into stupid clown messes
(She doesn't need the make-up)
And make conversation that would amuse a five year old
As I remained bold and stood out in the cold
(Because I remember that's how it was then)

And I'll remember when,
Even amid the rambling on about what she didn't wear tonight,
That time when I heard THAT song and had to fight
(With a choking force)
As words were lacking, I relied on pre-historic Morse
And tapped out the words
"I-M F-I-N-E. G-O A-W-A-Y"
As I tipped a piano and pulled down a tray
(Might have been shish kabobs, or maybe shrimp)
And my mind went limp

I came to...

Holding a phone, with the look of question
Would this be a good time for a long distance resurrection?
Or would we just contrast the pros and the cons?
The nights we stayed up and looked at the dawns
To the nights we stay up and look at the dawns
Alone.

Chinese History

Wrote this during class
While I was still inebriated from the night before.
It speaks of my mind, giving me clues about myself.


Great, Blue Sky
or
A Kind of Falling

(Not sure which I should title it)


A kind of falling
Heavy as Stone
The love that I love
Is not my own

The reason I fall
I know why
That I am lost in this great, blue sky

Taken aback
My breath did halt
The sun doth scorch
Like a wind-burned fault

The reason I fall
I know why
That I stare up into this great, blue sky

Heart had stopped
Soul is swift
My whisper does mire
As my soul does lift

The reason I fall
I know why
That I find myself in this great, blue sky

Hand is empty
Eyes so blurry
Tumbling without a net
I can't seem worry

The reason I fall
I know why
That I find myself crying out to this great, blue sky

The day wanes late
As the sun recedes
I know what I know
And I know what I need

The reason I fall
I know why
That I am lonely, all alone with this great, blue sky

I speak your name
As it carries in the wind
You left long ago
So my love must rescind

The reason I fall
I know why

I am here, but once laid with you in the great, blue sky.

Don't Listen to Interpol when Writing

My E key isn't working too efficiently. I have to continuously repeat the tapping of 'e' in order for it to register. This laptop is killin m sometimes. Seriously, like I have to fix the power input and bend it and shit in order for it to register a contact to the laptop itself, so it just keeps making minimal contact, killing my power. Sucks

So
I guess I need to write something significant.

I tried writing again today. A poem. Of sorts. And in my cohorts and tribulations, I couldn't find anything in me to write. No grandeur. No relations. No simplifications of oversimplifications that have no significance nor stance.
I hate when that happens. It's as if you've been drained emotionally.
And the term "Drained emotionally" typically refers to being beaten down and battered, like a cod from the sea, that winds up in your freezer as a breaded fish, eventually going to be eaten, or frozen for year until you discard it because it's unedible.
But no. I think I'm at that point when I apathetic to most things. Because most things are apathetic to my cause. And my cause is just making through things alive.
It turns out, with a common occurrence, that the rants and raves I make about the waves of swelling crowds, I shout out loud, makes not a difference to those of whom I care. Those who are not a part of the passing faces of the passing places, still seem to not understand just what I say. Or, what I say, in regards to what I don't say.
Example. What I may say is that there aren't stars outside. The night would be beautiful with or without them. This is the time, the perfection, the midnight complexion and tension of unsurity.
But no, the response is calm, quiet, quite a riot of silence. Taken away from th moment, I walk away wondering, what I need to do for affection? Stare at my reflection from beside a river tide? Love myself more, for thos who adore me will wind up here anyways?

I'm just done. Writing. Yeah. Because my eyes hurt, I lost in poker because I'm too nice to quit when I'm ahead, and because my ys hurt. They do.

Trading Sthhhhhpaces

I finally quit the redundant 'W' titles. Sorry, but I couldn't think of a clever 'W' word to title this with.

I'm switching rooms with Harrison. I think Arturo wants his privacy on the weekends with his girlfriend, since everyone but he and myself leave. So it's Saturday nights, I'm in my bed
He's in his
She's in his
I'm still in my bed
He's in his
She's in his
I "sleepwalk" into theirs and ask if they want to make it interesting
He's in his
She's in his
I'm on the couch in the other room.

That's a typical Saturday night.

So I'm switching rooms with Harrison. I'll probably make my way back into the room and say "So, have you all done anything interesting with animals, objects, boys dressed as girls dressed as boys?"
And then sleepwalk myself back to the couch.

Sadface :(

NEXT

Our team won our first intramural game. It was actually a hella close game the entire way through.
The dynamics of the substitution goes like this:
Starting line-up.
Sub three guys out.
Sub two girls out.

So I subbed in the first time, and I hit a three. Played for two more minutes, and then got subbed out. (We have like, 11+ players on the team, and Tomo no Kai is a friendly organization ((Like Diablo, without the a-holes)) so subbing is a regular necessity)
Second time we got subbed in, there was a lead of about two. I hit a runner for two. Some freethrows, and before we knew it, we were up by NINE.
NINE.
Biggest lead of the game.

Next sub for the guys. They had no ball handlers, and the other team was legit. Like, they seemed to be able to all make high school.
Now we're down one.
We eventually pull it out to win by 4. And the thing is, I actually had some fun, regardless of the 7 out of 40 minutes that I played. I'm in this for the social aspect, somewhat for the competitive, but overall, it's just straight up fun.

NEXT

I need a job

NEXT

Write a poem. For me. I want to read people's writing, but no one ever feels like sharing. Poetry is nice, in one aspect, because I get to see another person's creative side. Another is that they show the beauty that truly resides in them (And I like to believe that beauty is a natural component of an individual)
Also, I like figuring out what the poems mean, because there are parts of the poems that they don't realize they're saying, which unfurls another side of them that they can't even tell me.

So write me one. Send it in an email, if you want. Or FB. Or liek, whatevs.

I'll write a freestyle one. Time me.

12:57am

The space that filled our voices
Was seemingly endless
I doubt these were never our choices
So our love had to regress

To bare essentials
The broken bones
Of weakened wires
Malfunctions of phones
Dial tones
Are what's left of us

I hope that you can trust
The fact that I'm still here
A letter sent in the midst of a gust
Will make you feel as if I'm near

A young endeavour
Our paths are not done
We are two apart
But in heart we are one
We view the same sun
It is whole

I bet you can hear my soul
It talks out so loud
It vanishes from me
In the shape of a cloud

And makes shapes for you
Pictures of present and past
Of life that will last
It ever so higher..


And if you think of me
In the saddest of manners


It will rain
And we will feel the same.

1:03am

Whoa, Snap

Last night I chilled with some friends out in VDC at an apartment party. Played beer pong. Used my 3 point abilities to dominate sophomores.
Left, had to jump a couple sets of fences, drunk. Which was scary as shit, since I have a phobia of heights, and when you have been drinking a tad, the combination is just horrifying.

I originally wrote a page long dissertation about how much my being is in a blaze, but I'll just sum it up.
Yeah, I can't take this anymore. It's shit when the good in your life is always negated, and all that's left are the ones who are walking problems.

Love it.

Minimizing Contact. College doesn't stress me out. It's life that's broke my mind. A slow shatter through the years. And this isn't just another small crack in the glass, but it's an explosion of the transparent floor I've been lying on.

Wavering

I've been living so long with my pictures of you that
I almost believe that the pictures are all I can feel. -Pictures of You; The Cure

This is the first time I've heard this song, and I have The Cure discography. It hit my mind like when you accidentally stand up too fast and the blood rushes to your head, and you know where you are, but you're still a little dazed and can't maintain balance very well.

That's what it felt like.

I finally have food again in the apartment.

I was down to these items:

1 cup of Yogurt
A quarter box of Mini-Wheats
No Milk
Spinach.

So I was getting pretty hungry in the apartment. Finally got to the store with a friend, drop a cool seventy bucks, and have three cartons of Lactaid milk (Because I don't want shooting pains in the middle of hearing my professor from Jiang Nan province of China speak about how much cotton China grew in the late Qing dynasty)
A couple cartons of juice, cereal, yogurt, and that's about it.
Not much solid food...

Aside:
Hopefully when the dust settles down
and the people move on
I'll crawl into town
And see you're not gone.

Boom. Freestyle quatrain poetry.

I've got mass amounts of laundry to do. Like literally, it's a small hill in the corner. It will equate to six loads, or 14 dollars of laundry, sans computation of the cost of detergent... This shit sucks.

Aside Again:

I never meant to cause you trouble,
And I never meant to do you wrong,
And I, well if I ever caused you trouble,
O no, I never meant to do you harm.

Coldplay - Trouble

I enjoy emails. Send one.
Via Facebook, Gmail, or AOL. Anything.

I'm hoping to send a mass amount of letters out soon. And I have no addresses except for a few valuable ones.
I love hearing what you've got to say about you. Really.

Waking up

In the metaphorical sense.

I'm beginning to understand what it means to leave. It means that you're going to grow up. Going to become more of what you are supposed to be. Going to go through some shit that will literally break your mind. Something like "Is this the right choice?" "Should I really go through with this?" "How could this have happened?"

And my favorite:

"Why won't we work?"

Yes, that penultimate question that resides near the "Who am I?" query that is a perpetual thorn in my side.

Why won't we? Hmm...I don't see a reason, other than some strikingly taxing factors.
But they're obvious, and they kill me each time I think of them.

Digress

Waking up, though, comes with that haze. When you first open your eyes, you can't seem to understand where you are, or what day is it.

But apparently, it doesn't matter where you are, because time doesn't stop for you and allow you to gather your shit up, figure out your route, and bid those who you want to, adieu.

It's too early to really post anything, early as in time, because when it's two in the morning, I usually say things that make no sense, or if they make sense, they'll bring repercussions. So, I'll continue this later. When I'm saner.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fijjPy5BFL8

In my place, in my place
Were lines that I couldn't change
I was lost, oh yeah

I was lost, I was lost
Crossed lines I shouldn't have crossed
I was lost, oh yeah

I was scared, I was scared
Tired and under prepared
But I wait for you

If you go, if you go
Leaving me here on my own
Well I wait for you