Archive for 2010
Sunday, December 05, 2010
Sunday, December 05, 2010 8:21:38 PM
who is content with their art –
a fool filling himself with delusion
failing to see perfection can never be attained
what lover leaves a bed still warm with passion –
one who is cooled the moment after fullfillment
with the ice of their own isolation
search for a paradise in the eyes of a stranger
find yourself inadequate, desolate
one who cannot feel love
for one who cannot give love
8:24:36 PM
8:49:07 PM
such a misleading innocense
lit inside his eyes like blue flames
a smile, slight and sly
leading only to vicious submissions
frosted fingers burned down every inch
skin peeled back to bear tensed muscle
hairs prickled with anticipation
his gasp, one of surrender & of guilt
but i, poor i did not anticipate
the disease that spread through blood
leaked into the heart to devour
by means of his very conscious conspiracy
such a misleading innocense …
8:55:08 PM
Posted in 
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Protected: Satan Kitty / March 1998 – November 2010
should be tired but feeling more jumbled …
I stayed up til 2 am working on a video presentation with limited means. I should have gone to bed hours before but I try to get things perfect, little things, down to the milisecond. I’m insane but you knew that.
It’s funny how the combination of the cooler weather, the lack of normal sleep and still trying to get over a little cold has really warped the way the day feels. It feels almost like a weird little anxiety but it isn’t anxiety. I have no way to describe this feeling.
In other news, my boss is getting a puppy. (PS. Since I got laid off last October, I got a new job about 4 weeks later with another agency in Phoenix so my new boss is very puppy friendly.)
There are other bits o this and that but for now, I will say only that there shall be a puppy in my midst soon. I kind of like that idea.
- k
It’s been a year since death frosted over my soul just enough …
It’s been about a year since I have written any thing, period (other than work emails). I think that at times FMS has totally stolen my pleasure, which used to be immense, in writing and reading. Now, it’s hard to concentrate and hard to work up any coherent thoughts to write. It would be today, this weekend rather when I have both not taken my usual seizure meds and also my “pain” meds (dr perscriped Cymbalta for pain) that I feel an odd, friendly melancholy and wistful feeling of missing something. Enough that it has inspired me to try to write a little before bed.
Molly Gart
it’s a nameless, faceless thing
isn’t Molly Gart – this loss of sense
this loss of You in the mists
again you feel like ghost sheets
ruffed under my fingers when i find
there’s no bones beneath
Molly – have you loved any one
have you ever felt your heart beat?
i have scarcely heard you breathing
since before moss grew on your breast,
since frost over took you there
and since dead leaves covered your hair
can i kiss you one time before i
loose the sense of my body too,
like you have dear? or have we both
become like fly wings dried and crushed
swept away with so much dirt and dust
Molly Gart?
wither like a rose and dry like Earth,
dear Molly, he’s in Heaven with the fish
swim like a feather in blue dreams of sleep
drown like a girl in blood, so cold she
cannot weep, Molly
Well there’s for free styling alright. I actually kind of like it for being totally free association instanity. I should try sleeping. Maybe I should make a doll and name her Molly Gart.
- k