blind, deaf and brilliant.

the sound on my computer is broken.
i never realized how much i like to listen.
until you cant hear.
and then i wonder how it is.
that deaf people.
move through the world.
devoid of ever hearing anything.
never being able to sense sounds.
simply silence.

and then i think.
how i would be different.
if i had never heard some of the things said.
how my life would have changed.
if i had no idea.
what those word really meant.
and how they really feel.

so many things i take for granted.
so many privileges misused.
to think.

of the way i use my tongue.
and those who cannot speak.
the wasted words.
defective language.
that gets me through the week.

out there.
there are people.
with important things to say.
with magic underneath their palettes.
with power to bring emotions to sway.

and here i sit.
a babbling brook.
spitting venom on the shores.
doing nothing positive with this voice.
accept attempting to stifle yours.

and those who eyes can never see.
and all there terror behind mine.
and the beauty some will never know.
for granted, I take mine.

if possible.
id give it all.
give it up.
to sacrifice.
offer these vocals rooted in lungs.
to someone worthy of the life.

but i cant.
and so i must.
make the best of what i have.
i must listen as if i can never hear.
i must speak as if its my last breath.
i must see everything for what its worth.
and live with no regret.



i love the earth.


make due.

I want so badly to write something profound.
thought provoking.
in depth and witty.
but alas.
nothing more.
but stories.
facts and fictions.

i spend so much time watching the weather.
through my porch window.
the world seem so vibrant.

from the second floor.
everything is repetitive.
up is up.
down is down.
so on and so forth.
they say.

all these days.
spent in the breeze.
under rugs swept the winter.
out of boxes back of closets.
summer wears.
its way into our routine.

as steady as the sun.
rising and setting over me.
eclipsing reason and intrigue.

this city.
so long.
social circles.
spin so fast.
too fast for me.

ive seen and done.
and been and was.
ive touched and broken.
and walked on.
all over these cobblestones.
that make up this commonwealth.

for all my memories.
when ready to recollect.
this culmination.
of situations.
will have to make due.

i need a job.



root rott.

side splitting.

shotgun toting.
fast tongue flapping.

ghost wind.

there you are.

so smooth and rich.
steady churning.
building this up.

but her.
she is so illusive.

incapable of change.

what do we make of this.
this weather.
these patterns.
the rain.

and inevitable.

season are so fickle.
just as the slight of hand.
magic in the making.
or a flash in the pan.

who could stand.
such resistance?

who would succumb.
to such extremes.

it seem.

i would.
and they shall.
and you wont.

and thats fine.

adjustment must be made.
seeds planted.
provide shade.

all this overgrowth.
invasive in nature.
grounded in time.
shall eventually take root.

and that root shall eventually grow.
and bloom and burst.
and thrive.
and fight.
then die.

to share.
to spread.
to become
something new.

for which i will up root.
to harvest.
and sell.
take credit.
ground swell.

warming beneath.
such optimism.


all this beginning.
only leads.
to more ending.




awake as of late.
it gets later.
and these nights have no.
differentiating factors.

matters the same.
made of energy.
taking up space.

pressing is it.
the gravity of these
day to day situations.

heavy handed.
lead foot.

i cant dishevel.
what keeps me here.
versus there.
as opposed to anywhere.

sonnets in the air.

am i.
are you.

can we.

regardless of compassion.
convinced despite my disdain.

can we finish the sentence.
without kissing on contact.
without spelling out subtext.
can we recreate distance.

it is proven.
when left alone.
nature has a tendency.
towards chaos.

resilient in resistance.
we sleep a call to arms.



this will do.


on crack.

my life is going 5000 miles a minute.
the days are not long enough.
too many meetings.
too many projects.
too many papers.
i just lay in bed.
and pretend my legs dont work.
i have to prioritize.
i have to reorganize.
the boy has a new job
i serve tea.
i am in love.
and right before we save it.
we are going to take over the world.

my hair is a mess.




put up or shut up.


LOST, the incubus.

Damon Lindelof.
the raper.
the mind fucker.

there should be a law.
against cerebellum sodomy.
i feel like.

there was this guy.
and ive known him for a long time.
we were bffs.
like, superbad.
i love you man.
no homo.

and then.
one day.
we ate some salvia.
and he flipped out.
and started speaking in tounges.
and spittin out pea soup.
and came back to the island.
and shot ben.
and then didnt let the fucker die.
and then fucked everthing up.


why let it play out.
why be so "reality time travel tv"
just go ahead.
kill ben.
fuck it all up.
make us think.
drag it on for 2 more seasons.

but no.
now we must sit here.
and watch it all.
ben becomes an other.
the purge.
peace out darma.
the others.
fight with widmore.

but who is ELLIOT??

i think elliot is locke.
i just dont understand.

all this exposition.
do we really need it?

we all know the story.
and unless your gonna pull the rug.
we dont need to walk on it.

and i certainly wont take off my shoes.

stop fucking around.
Damon, and cum already.