Can We Own Clouds?

I know the end and beginning of where the solution
to your question lies, and with second thought
a unrepresentative quandary
is proposed-
for health, for benefits
to the erasure of solitude
but to spend years in a jade
tomb, is to entrench those who contemplate
salvation and untrustworthy endeavors
with the splendors of a million sunsets
which is a privilege that should never split
the lips of those who live as if
life was countering the movements of
one thousand scythes.

Crooks.

All the hues of autumn arrows and summer errors
complete the erasure of past pretenses and tepid
heartbeats, but inlets assure me of the capable beauty
that your treble-coated whispers attempt to convince me
otherwise, and star-scarred night skies, plastic in construction
betray my thoughts and lovelorn touch.


As leaves fall to the wayside,
like austere glances hidden on the piers
from grave-robbing companions who toil
to ruin the company of love and lust
we will sit, and desire to slit the
throat of perfection.

And new gazes still make you feel lonely,
wrapped up in bedtime funeral processions
blackened hearts, backed up wasted years and
fading clock chimes, still feeling
insignificant and petty, but all the while
washed over by the foam-tipped tongue
of shameless summers.

The Rhode Island Mixtape

3 Movements Inspired By The Absurd Cruelty of Unattainable Happiness (Summer Passages)

I sold my nightingale,
I freed
it from it's cage!
Now I spend nights staring
out my window
hoping it returns unharmed
but I know it caught fire in the
sky...
it will never be mine.


//

sunshade cloak all secrets
like an obsidian dagger!

<.>

Spill my secrets, spilled my blood,
down by the pier
spending nights
chasing that damn
butterfly.

The Rhode Island Mixtape

It's well known that
if rain
falls
after midnight, those
secret rendezvous
between earth and
sky
will coat all lungs
with the misty touch
of a thousand
lovelorn
princesses and
as such the romantic
blooming of a love unknown
becomes like the
burning
of a sensible reputation.

------

If sand is so vast
and quantity unknown
then why does it's
beauty
not rival the stars?
A canvas blanketed
with unrepentant
beauty
can cloak the eys
to skew the perspective of
what is
beauty?
And, what should not be
spoken.


----

I felt your grasp
slit out of
mine
and the coldness
of your
heart
wracked your body
with its
malicious intentions
so I
GASP!
my lungs heave and ache for
air!
but it's no
match for
the
cruelty of your
intent.

UFC 104: Who Ya Got?

Personally, I am very excited for this card. Every card Machida is on gets me all riled up, and this is no exception. This card has had trouble selling out, and that makes me confused.

This card has great fights on it, and it promises to be very exciting. I haven't been this excited since UFC 100 (and that was because I was hoping Mir would rip Lesnars fucking arm off, but he was no match to the lay and pound technique that Brock uses)

Anyhoos here is who I WANT to win.. let me know about your picks and why. Commence discussion!

Machida over Shogun

Velsquez over Rothwell

Johnson over Yoshida

Stevenson over Fisher

Neer over Tibau

Can't wait for tomorrow

Moon, Don't Cry

This is a short story, er flash fiction piece Im working on. I still gotta make revisions, I guess. Enjoi.


Moon, don't cry.


The rain beat down on the pavement. It was akin to if hell had a dreary day..

"Hey man, you need a ride to practice?", the voice slithered out from under the slowly descending window.

Jeremiah didn't know what to think. He had just yelled at his mother, and thus now had to walk the 3.4 mile trek to a grueling practice. In the rain. It almost seemed like god was doing him a favor, letting this nice man in the luxury car take him to practice. Besides, Jeremiah thought, "if he try any gay shit, I could stick him in the face and get out".


The invitation accepted, the door opened. Jeremiah sunk in, and began to put his seat-belt on, and as he turned to complete the process, he was erased.

With the ferocity and efficiency of a shark attack, he was extinguished, but that's not to say the postscript to this process wasn't a long arduous and grueling macabre experience. Mr. Luxury fancied making sure that when his work was eventually discovered that it would be so surreal, thus requiring forensics, therefore taking it a little longer then usual to eventually find him.

But right now, that didn't concern him. Getting all four garbage bags out of his trunk and into the river were the most pressing.

The task accomplished he began to drive back to the city, the sun slowly retreating behind the horizon.

On the side of the road, a figure walking home, drenched in rain, walking sluggish. A lamb.

"Hey man, you need a ride home from practice?", the voice slithered out from the slowly descending window..

Why I Hate Working-Class Folks

...Well in Bloomington-Normal.

See, I have this theory that every job that needs to be done down here, starts at the asscrack of dawn, er 7-8am. And then every job that is done needs to be done with the LOUDEST equipment ever.

Seriously. It's 8am, and there's a crack in the sidewalk right next to my window. So what does the city of Normal do?

JACKHAMMER THAT SHIT. For hours!

And that's not the worst. The grass cutting is the worst. Being a mexican, I thought I could NEVER get annoyed by the sound of a lawnmower, but boy oh boy has Normal changed my thinking.

It's like a shark attack. I lay in bed, grimacing when the lawnmower passes, only to grip my sheets with nervous fear as I hear the sound fade off in the distance, knowing, just KNOWING that it will soon circle back around, to annoy me and make me pee my pants out of anger.

Yeah that's right. I get so damn mad, I just urinate on myself. Ugh.

And every single worker is capable of doing such a loud, annoying job, while simultaneously chain-smoking. Grass cutting, jackhammering, planting, washing, painting, you name it and who ever is doing said job is also puffing on a Marlboro light.

If that's not bad enough, the jobs here in Normal are so ridiculous. Seriously, this town has a person whose job it is to ride around and give tickets to college kids who break the law by dangerously parking in a NO PARKING 2-7AM ZONE. Like wow, I'm glad you were up that early to write me a 20 dollar ticket, you fucking douchebazooka.

Here's an idea. Maybe if the places where we live weren't so stingy with how many parking passes are allotted, we wouldn't have to park 6 and a half blocks away from where we live?? I mean just a thought. I know it's a ruthless and dangerous lifestyle, parking in NO PARKING 2-7AM ZONES, but maybe the city of Normal should stop and realize how blessed they are to be generating the amount of revenue they do, because of the college kids who live down here.

But hey, giving out 20 dollar parking tickets is cool too. Don't wanna end up on Americas Most Wanted for parking in a NO PARKING 2 AM-7AM zone.

bitches.]

Broken Wristed/Secondhand Glances

For The Broken Wristed

Let love,
limp defeated over the daybreak
to exemplify our sorrows
We'll accentuate the pain
of caring tenfold
until it manifests itself
under the guise of heartbreak.

\\

Secondhand Glances and the Like...

To accept such tremendous
beauty,
is a daunting undertaking
for certain
but lift the veil
to reveal the splendor
of your visage
which shines for miles
and is more at home
liberating us from boredom
but the face,
meant to be seen
by thousands of unworthy men
only
to be appreciated
by one, whose
eyes are
privy to see.

XX-2

Flowers Ablaze

Not even the larks
in their most vivid
fulfilling
dreams could
imagine beauty
as unique as yours
they could spend
entire lifetimes
spanning across generations
drenched in futility
striving to
broach the surface
of the depths of
your beauty,
songs will be sung
but none ever, as
unique
as you.


Antiquated Souls

My promise to you
is not
wealth
or material
furnishings, but is instead
a promise to appreciate
and bestow undivided attention
treated right,
until my bones ache
and my lungs breathe only
dust
and my heart is
cemented with
debris,
even then so, I promise
to appreciate
everything you mean
to me
and will never
let you down.
That is the foundation
of my
promise.

Dustcovered Throats

We spent our days
entirety of our youth
watching facades of ourselves
in the guise of breathless voyagers
nervous anticipation with each departure
for our hopes were built on
a foundation
our hopes were
rested on the shoulders of the unnamed

and as the clock breaks
and the walls peel
you're no longer my favorite song
instead just a lingering whisper
an unfounded rumor

the reconciliation was at a torrid pace
for once, you'll be at my side,
I scattered your appreciation under
the night sky
now my dear, you'll always be near
we'll relieve our youth
in it's entirety
you'll always be here

I Practice My Cartwheels At Least 4 Hours A Day

tonight I
think I'll lay
with prospective
angels.

For I dreamt that when I awoke today there was nothing in front of me.
nothing.

to hold me back
seclude me,
impede my progress

The wall at the foot of my bed, was now gone
or simply invisible

and with it came all the glory of the world and lifes bounty
sunlight, the sounds of nature roaring in
even the cold was welcome
deep in my bones
righted was the course
short were the breaths

the curiosity endless.

Umm, Your Thrones' On Fire.

A wisp of grey washed
over the cracked sidewalks and
through the trees, the
defenseless trees,

the chance for a hollywood
ending, well that hope died
today when
the sun rose.

Staring down an empty
street and wrestling
with all those inner
thoughts,
wait, re-write,
desire?

Who knows and certainly
no one cares,
shrugged shoulders with
the weight of your world
balancing, a delicate balance
mind you.

So, retreat back home
missed chances mark
another X on the
calendar,
go write about
how your heart feels
wrap the paper in leaves,
and bury it.

Fall

Fall is the best muse. Yes, even better then summer. I'm sorry, that's just how the world works. With fall comes my brain working overtime, so yeah... sorry guys, I got like millions of words on pages.




PopRoks!

moon
stars
wind
cold, repeat.

Never thought
something could exit
quicker then leaves
fall from trees

but leave it to you
to go and surprise me
again
don't mind the expression
really I'm honored

worse off already
to battle loneliness
and distance.
so insurmountable,
crushing and ghastly,
even sitting
by the fountain
is difficult.

the hurtful expanse
that is
highway, is the concrete
dagger that is
robbing us of our breath.

while Im walking
underneath all my best
intentions, that
won't make it

they wont count in two weeks.

so I tore up every letter
I've written you.

SHUT UP MIGUEL!

I got nothing/no one to talk about.

Instead, I'll sit and write eulogies about the most beautiful waves to exist.
I'll lament about how much I miss them so, and how
they seem to be the most meaningful things to me.

Gosh golly, do I succeed in underachieving.


Shut up marky, no one wants to hear about your shortcomings.


I'll write a story about a jumprope champion instead

Yeah, that'll teach em.

a lesson in awkardness

Seriously, I used to think I was bad, and then I watched this video...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F-6CMFSXIwg


I have no idea what to think after watching that.

Anyone else uncomfortable??

hunks

Today

I saw a fire hydrant melting and
it was awesome because it flowed
into the parade of leaves
that also bled into the concrete
urn.


I decided to take a chance, so I
ran up to it,
and ran my fingers through. Took a
deep breath, and really just
had at it.

sidewalk when she walks, OWNS your face, racoooon face

there is so much i dont
get.

your feelings, for example being the biggest thing.

and sometime, despite my overwhelming happiness

i feel like giving up..

sometimes, i dont know what the point is.

i feel like everyone else will find companionship but me...


blah, shut up emo face.

EDIT: 9 hours later. I have been listening to the cure all day, and crying. my sheets are stained with tears. IM NOT GETTING OUT OF BED, because im weighed down by my tears.

CRYCRYCRYCRYCYCRYYRRYF

Miley Cyrus Follows Me On Twitter

For once, I feel alive.
My hands are exploding with just every synonym of joy you can think of.
I trembled, because of my nervous fear (such is customary when confronted with the unknown). My heart is ablaze and I am not quelling the fire. I've spent a lot of time lately, enjoying everything life/the world has to offer.

You know how life is always hectic, akin to the pace of a coke addicts' heartbeat? Yeah, well

Stop.

Take a breath. Enjoy life, and the beauty of it. Life in itself is beautiful. Stop the constant perpetual motion of the machine of a bullshit life, and let the beauty consume you.

I've been doing it, and it's nice, enjoying simple pleasures like laying in the grass and getting lost in the clouds. Or going out in the rain. Cold rain hitting skin and pavement is a beautiful symphony.

Enjoy it.

You have time to rest when you get fitted for a coffin. Just escape but, escape into reality.

Are there rules against having fun? I'm happy, I'm full of happiness, and I apologize for nothing. People see how I act, and as such I'm labeled "weird", "faggy", and the best, "creepy".

I operate on desire. I mean well but nonetheless get painted into a corner as a creep.

Curse my bleeding heart and my pursuit of fulfillment.

All I want, and continue to strive for is happiness.

I will never lose my grasp.

I will never falter.

I will never lose my sense of purpose.

Journey on...

My Poop Smells Like Pants

Open Hands

Your heart is so heavy
to hold
and cold

And my heart is a
study in contrasting hues

swelled up under
monochromatic touches

used as your pincushion,
but your heart
is so heavy
to hold.


Grains of Salt

I just
wish I could
spend all day
chasing squirrels
forgetting
slipping in and out of
consciousness
until the sky
is wounded
signaling my retreat
oh, how I wish.

Let The Children Hit The Floor

so, close your eyes

because this will never be

finality.


and I desire the days we can pass
under the cool autumn breeze

holding hands
until you burn them

under some pretense of thoughtful caring

little do you know...

I laugh, I wont judge your caustic reclamation.

I just desire the days you take your hand in
mine.

So, like the bluest sky seen
I wait until you grace
me with your
presence.

polarberz

tonight, here, the only caregivers are the stars

so what do you say?

tonight, let's get in your car

drive, down to the edge of the lake

and throw in all our memories we've made
for once let's be epic,

in our design and execution

let's live bigger then ourselves

let's touch those fucking stars.

Filing A Greivance Against My Life.

No one ever wants to take midnight walks in the cold.