A Peek at The Secret Lives of a Starving Poet : The Insanity Process - #1 - Self Conversations

this is not gonna make sense. fair warning.

an old post, like a year ago. and it tugged me.

While You Were Sleeping

d. steine

i discovered
the shape of my desire

to navigate the waters of sleep
without signal flares, rafts, or life jackets
like you do.

with you.

reading it led me to one of my old haunts, my first home in the web actually The HideAway (circa 1997 or 98) and led me to the following

iNnOcenCe

your innocence
as fine as silk
i ripped off
from your fragile soul

rape i guess
and i basked as i violated you
grinning with every inch away
and as i found, and
left your core
i was blind
i did not see
the flicker of your darkness

i became a prisoner of freedom

i guess
i should have never
violated you
in any manner

my fault
i guess
that your womb is
afraid to conceive love
for me

then i remembered that i once kept a site for those seduced by the pen (my first failure, i must confess) and found that it doesn't exist anymore...

...and so i went to the next one (this site suffered from one bad makeover om my part and i ended up ruining the design that my sis created for me) and got hooked on this...


ode for eupee

and to find you woman
on the second day of my final years,
when the ghost of tragedies
haunt my every breath and I have started learning
the black acid lessons of forgetting how to smile…

was it I or was it you
who found in the deepest ocean of despair
the whisper of yellow, the laughter of red and the silence of white,
like when stars explode in their silence
or the sensation of the fingers of the sun
caressing the folds of the earth.

Are you the cooing gentle balm
to the violent burn whimpers of my shame and pain,
The proof that one could only define redemption
On the moment of his damnation?

I do not know if angels do exist.

Only that I know that you are there,
Wings, feathers and skin, ripe lips, open eyes and mouth,
Soaring over the currents of sea waves raging
Or basking under the summer sky of pure grace.

I know you exist for the fingers of my thoughts
Are tracing you in the pages of my memory.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

as i was doing this entry..i got stumped...lit a stick...3 inhales...hands reaching out for the beer....then made a new window to view my page here in multiple, looked at the tags, saw POETRY and clicked on it....


[-1234456745923489237493iuyierklhfiofyklhiofydisfheiofysdf <---the next 10 minutes]

and then i publish this.

voila.

i need my coffee