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i love them sometimes. they ignore me other times. i dont know what i should do about it, or if i even care enough to bother. everyone i used to refer to as my best friends, are practically nonexistent right now. everyone i thought that might become my friend, is nonexistent.

i have new friends too, but i still make time for them. but, i regret it. i always find out that my new friends were doing something fun, not to mention they would have welcomed me, whenever i make an attempt at seeing the people i loved in high school. i didnt expect them to be the same on their return, but i definitely didnt expect them to completely deny that fact that im still here, and have been anxiously waiting to see them all semester.

from now on, i will let them be. if they want to see me, there are ways.to all of you, you know who you are. if youre not sure of our friendship, then dont waste my time.

if im worth it to you, then fix this. if not, good riddance.

freeing the slaves
the white devil was silent
he thought he was doing
what was right
though each of the
espresso skinned refugees
gave him stares of
judgement.

his gleaming pink irises
told the men he saved
that he was from hell
but they wanted to
taste freedom so badly
they followed satan himself
into the abyssal forest
and drown in the
wanton life that is the
american dream.

a loss in contemplation. we precede ourselves in judgement. do not deny what you know to be yours, especially when it makes you appear inferior. inferiority is not a stigma, it is freedom. find the loopholes in your own rules and dont be surprised when your circumvent the limestone law, forever eroding with the bombardment of our questioning. Too many are wasted trying to pass through them, when it is far easier to avoid them all together. See nature; every ecosystem on earth is merely contained chaos. Entropy with a ring around it. Never fear stepping out side the ring, perhaps to visit another. Go places. Do things. Do not be as I have; a corpse of creativity, a casualty of my own efforts (or lack thereof.) jog your memory. remember your truths, fabricated. when you cannot trust your memory, what can you trust? what did you do a year ago today? you dont remember. maybe you slept all day, maybe you were sick. but you dont know. if everything we learn comes from experience, personal or vicarious, how can we trust it? what defines who we are if we cannot define what we remember or why?

stop. i was better at this when i hated myself. 

songs from a life
i thought was over
beats the drum
in my ear.

and i wish i could
die to live
that life again.

the Pizza!
thin like a blade of grass;
baked at four fifty and slathered
in the whitest mozzerella

and drizzled in the sweetest sauce
sold for dirt cheap. if only they knew
the sensation for the tongue they give away

how i miss the city!
the air gone filty with the
breath of the yellow camels toting patron
from zenith pointer to upward arrow.
funny how it goes.

just think- you and i in my fifty second floor flat.
step out on my veranda, too large to dub a balcony
i wear my suit well, but your gown steals tonight.
we drink dry martinis and

we imagine the stars we cant see from here.
all the better- theyre ours. our stars.
we'll imagine the streets beyond our view.
theyre greener than the lights that say "GO!"
a new city. a new map.

i love the manholes that pour out steam.
only in the city and near fire breathing mountains
can you see vapor born of stone like this- hmm.
i love the people, all dots in god's greatest stippling

lets wander like we did on our first coffee run
when we got lost. keep each other warm on the way back.
lets look like lost white people in the projects just for the rush.
lets get a cab, and tip him a week's wage just to see his face.

and to think, one in five men on Wall Street
works for me and i work for only you. you own this city.
nothing will ever take that away, long after
we retire, i will work for you.

but i will always love
the city
more.

i hope you enjoy reading as much as i enjoyed writing. man i miss that place. this is for class, so it will slowly evolve. poets: give helpful suggestions, free of charge. readers: give thoughtful feedback. sluts: give phone numbers. haha that was so kris gonyo of me. oops.

God loves me like you do.
says it like he really means it,
knows im here, just cant be bothered
to help a brother out

hijack my brain
i just wanna go away
free the tame
they've got nothing say

jiggle the doorknob
maybe it'll unlock
stare me down
maybe i'll open up

and i dont wanna watch you fall
and i dont wanna watch you fail
put me in your shoes
mine are more comfortable
grab my hand, just like you would
when your about to go under.
drag me down,
drag me down

wake me up
when you read this
we'll go away
so i can sleep

i cant carry both of us
put your feet down
walk with me, walk
by my side, ill wake up

in a sweat, swearing
you were here, just now.
sheets ruffled, that was me;
and im empty- that was you.

why wont she let him be?
hes fine until she
somehow finds her way in.
he does so well
without her pictures
hanging on the wall.
she sneaks in
and tacks them back.

when all has run amok,
in a futile attempt
at communication,
he throws the rotary
telephone at the wall.
to forget her
he hides under the bed,
clutching a pillow;

it still smells like her

Bewildered, the burnt colored fox
is trotting blankly. Absorbed in his ailment,
A man hits the dirt, entombed in everclear
and never to be caught on camera.
The animal juked an oncoming vehicle
and jostled awake the unconsious layman.

At high noon, the sun raped the eyes of the layman.
He grunted, and moaned words foreign to the fox.
In pain, the man's thinking was a vehicle
to his regret. Nowherebound, his ailment
slowly choked him. A woman, carrying no camera,
approached him, with blood free of everclear.

The lady could smell the everclear
and recognized it came from the layman
on the ground. She wished she brought her camera
so she could capture, from a distance, this fox
curled protectively over a drunk. Her ailment
was that she had no vehicle.

As she noticed the passing vehicle,
she wondered how many had passed. Everclear
had claimed this man. He was free of ailment.
She saw that she could have loved this layman;
only a fellow true of heart could befriend a fox.
Of all walks on which not to bring her camera...

In the city, a petty theif evades the camera.
He gets away, only to be killed by a vehicle
controlled by a man known as "The Fox."
He was drunk, consuming earlier too much everclear.
Miles away,in the country, a layman,
accompanied by the petty thief, dies of this very ailment.

The woman has one of her own, an ailment.
Cleptomania has married her to the camera
of many. Everything once posessed by the layman
lies in the hands of a woman, running to her vehicle.
She runs away, holding the mans disease, this everclear
and offers no solace to the still bewildered fox.

A man dies of ailment; his could be love leaves with his everclear.
The burnt colored fox, seasoned with grief, keeps the layman
warm. A boy in a vehicle passing by the odd pair, uses his camera.

this is a sestina for a class. im not going to explain the format. just google it. it was hard. im pissed. 

still waiting
for nuclear winter.
detstruction's snow
graces the landscapes,
and the crater,
smoldering,
lies as a scar in her flesh.

the people brood now
those that are left.
the ones who pressed
the button are dead.
those who once had
not a voice to be heard,
now reign as man
over earth.

funny, charming
open, honest

spontaneous.

brash, cynical
sarcastic, depressed.

dreamer, analytical
artistic, eloquent.

submissive, abrasive,
intrusive, negative.

desparate, manipulative,
selfless, projective.

free spirited.

dependant, addicted
stupid, ignorant.

nice.

confused, useless
inconsistent, boring.

overzealous, too hopeful
unrealistic, proud.

Interested?

Didnt think so.

push
pull
push

insecure dreams
make retreating
seem easier

shove
tug

an invasion of space
welcome but unexpected
changes the lighting-
an overlying tone
of pink catches my eye

tweak

retreat is less attractive now
i flirt with the hues
and saturations
hoping for balance

hold.

a highlight of infatuation
will fit this picture
just fine.

as she slowly revolves around the body that moves her,
the massive artifact approaches the end that will never come.
she moves, never to rest, towards a goal that cannot be reached.

there is no checkered flag- only the laws that govern her.
still she travels in hope of one day finding peace.
to rest, and rotate on all axes to keep her people

     content with the weather.

i avoid your eyes
like a kid avoids his meds.
i know theyd feel so good,
but i cant bear their weight.

i want to touch you
but i know it will burn my hand.
i want to hug you
but my arms wont move.
you want me there,
but i want more.
i wish you knew what
you were doing to me.

the telephone pole
took over my field of view.
like a new jersey driver,
already speeding,
i pressed the throttle.
i wanted to hit is so bad,
my life's goal was now
to end it here, on this post.

i thought meeting him at
one-ten would make a good
first impression.

I turned off the heater so no one would come down here.
It's freezing, my family is drunk. I want them to leave.
They are blasting a Lynard Skynard DVD. I want it to stop.
I visited Chelsey tonight. She stared at me as I sat there
avoiding eye contact like I used to do when I had no self esteem.

I don't know why I do this to myself. I know she likes seeing me.
But what about what I like? I like holding her hand. I like kissing her.
Nobody gives a fuck what I want to do. Don't ever be selfless.
Being a good person isnt worth getting walked all over constantly.
Its not worth it to me anymore. The feeling i get from making people
happy, doesnt make me happy anymore. Seeing Chel kills me,
and she doesnt care. She still wants me to see her, and I do it.

I sat in her driveway and cried for a bit before I started the car.
I doubt she even thought about me after I left. Whatever. Her mom
didnt even look out the window to see what was going on.

i heard her voice
that voice...
we spoke as friends
nothing more,
as our label limits
as does her choice,
unrelenting.

thoughts came
words went.
and i was fine
until she said
"i love you"

seriously, i cant take much more of this. 

i wonder if anyone remembers me before i met her.

i was numb. i felt nothing. i lived everyday without sensation. when i loved her, it was like truly waking up for the first time. now, im going back to bed... 

denying himself
the things he enjoys
sometimes
not by choice

the emptiness
in his gut
reflects that of
his very soul
the blood is cold
the brain cant change
its train of thought

stuck on one track
built to take him nowhere

the road she walked was narrow
so she closed her eyes
and wandered without restraint
other than the fact that her feet
could not leave the ground
without firmly placing themselves
back where they came from.

put out your thumb, and get your vasoline ready. i'll pick you up ;)