day-trotter

"day-trotter"

God waited in the pasture as

thunderheads painted

the spectrum of grey.

he knelt as the downpour washed his body of

inevitable guilt. creation

had plunged a dagger into his spine. man's

deliverance died weeping in a

hushed voice.

days and heart's desire

"days and heart's desire"

in meadows there were children laying on

flowers. insects crawled on their legs and

faces to accent the freckles and

the scars.

radiant boys don't remain silent. they live together

and die alone.

between breaths the insects sing

and crescendo in sync with the hymns of the girls.

it was a

midwestern symphony.

n/a

"The worst part is knowing that there is goodness in people. Mostly it stays deep down and buried. Maybe we don't have God because we're scared of the bad stuff. Maybe we're really scared of the good stuff. Because if there's no God, well, that means it's inside of us and we could be good all the time if we wanted. So when we do bad things, it'd be because we want to or because we have to. Or maybe we just need the bad stuff to remind us what the good stuff is in the first place. "

Constant reminders that things can always become better. Keeping my head up.

volumes

"volumes"

pearly white teeth smile up at me from

piles of rotting leaves. there are copper eyes that i

cannot stare into. this was a

secret pact.

written in the dirt and mud of September

on the walls of October and November.

n/a

The summer is over.

Tomorrow begins work in the Indiana University Library. I have to be up before eleven for the first time in three months. Something about this seems vastly cruel though it is a minor issue in the spectrum of things. I keep examining events and people that I've encountered and dealt with for the past three months and realize that more than half of it I could have avoided. The other half I chose to be involved in and genuinely cared.

The truth is, I want to come out an be completely honest with each person I want nothing to do with. I want to tell them calmly and clearly that I want nothing to do with them any longer, give them my reason for this, and then emotionlessly walk away from them without animosity on either side. This is harsh and unfair, I'm aware. I'm not inhuman in saying most of this, but, for the most part I want to cleanse myself of all the loose ends in my life. This "social cleansing" would not result in me burning bridges with close friends, good friends, or acquaintances.

But of course, I talk about these things as if they were easy to do, or fair, or right, or necessary. Perhaps they are easy or necessary, but when I look at myself in the mirror and picture one of the people I want to cut away I can't seem to look them in the eyes. Maybe I'm doing things for the wrong reasons and getting rid of people who do truly care, or maybe I'm just building it all up in my mind.

This feeling/thought won't have a closure statement that's even slightly definitive or certain. David Bazan has the general idea:

"If you make a reference to some
trouble that you know
can it help you keep it under control?
Or should I really reconsider
my reason for going solo?"

into the ground

"into the ground"

cringe at the sight of a legless statue

or at the faceless paintings on church walls. it is

repetitious and endearing. lackadaisically moving

forward

while coal black dogs sniff trails of

fallen skin leading to your

doorstep.

golden hues flicker against

eyes and lips

of children that hold hands along the darkest

path in a forest. they grin and laugh. when you

collapse they will carry you home.

n/a

The United States of Leland is one of the most powerful films I've seen in the past year. If you know me at all, that's saying something. I'll leave it at that and let any of you who read this go out and find it yourselves. If you're discouraged or dislike it, please talk to me about it and give me a reason.

The message that's being conveyed to me by the world is: "Without the bad, the sweet just isn't as sweet."

Part of me understands this... and part of me hopes it isn't true. Time will tell. Run of the mill statements have a way of ingraining themselves in people and burrowing into their thoughts and actions.

Scared. That's what I am.

moments

"moments"

pointer finger forward, tracing

the horizon.

diving in shallow waters made

a loathsome past time. red

snakes and curls around her ankles and

pools long into the night, forming patterns

of failure. dawn breaks, there is a

lifeless marionette sprawled across an

umber shore. remaining life is found in

foam and waves.

underwood, north dakota

"underwood, north dakota"

some old men have burdened themselves with heavy

breath and sore palms. their past lives were

beautiful

and true.

hard to wake up now. sighing at the troubles a man goes through to keep his fingers

warm becomes regular.

women can see the working men climbing grey hills in

the rain and dodging nature's tears. holding their

firstborns. days are filled with the sound of

steel on steel.

n/a

New tattoo tomorrow, autumn leaves covering the top half of my right arm.

Poems coming soon, many ideas kicked around in my head. Keep your eyes peeled.

As for tonight, I celebrate my birthday.

n/a

I thought about writing something for most of the day today.

Nothing came of it, obviously, a few lines tinkered with in my head but nothing to sit and scribe. I hope to continue the State poems, probably doing one this week and another next (although my schedule becomes much busier in the coming weeks).

This week is eventful to say the least, and for that I am happy.