Via

I'd like to meet:

it was the night they gallaped away/on their pretty horses/left us here/on this gloomy mountaintop/where i have always been left/wondering the seamless deep/in search of forgotten things/things that may have never even been real/fantasies washed away/down a flooded river/in that old wooden bucket/that i used to use many mornings/to sail/from that dark city/from off those cryptic streets.

UTAH, 1890

into the west/wondering/windy/almost/quiet/lonley/the loom of heat/still and thick/radiates from these steel tracks i walk upon/seems i've been going for a long time/the dream of a future wearing thin/like my worn shoes/slipping and sliding down this dusty plain/and the only thing that haults me/is an occasional train/carelessly passing/ rapidly assisting/in the wake of this revolution/breifly reminding with hope/and hopfully its not the hoplessness/ of the nightmere 100 years hence/in its dark repurcusion/ of my american dream

HAMBURG, ARKANSAS

not a memory/pictures of long narrow roads and vast pine/ holding grip in the crisp wind/hills rolled up like plump shaped cups/wrinkling into a plain/like the waded shirts inside my suitcase/looking back on nothing/as i drag it from place to place

FEBUARY 6, 2003 ON A GREYHOUND

3am/on the bus again/going home/don't feel like reading/ only winding my thoughts/like the many yo-yo's/unraveling themselves from my dirty hands/frozen pieces of pocketed flesh/fleeing into the warmth/of a worn jean

FEBUARY 10, 2003 2:47am ON THE SIDE OF THE ROAD

a life/one person/two eyes/a cigarette/and an empty bedroom/waiting/while i'm waiting/while the thousands/swallowed by the sea/lay quietly dead/here i am with car trouble/praying for only a working engine/spoiled by the luxeries of comfortable seats/and powerful heat/while someone out there tonight is frezzing/all alone/just like i could be

FEBUARY 23, 2003

i wish my words could offer you true feeling/but i guess somethings dont come out right/and some of these visions i urn so much to express/cannot be expressed...like the ride back into the salvordorianian mountains from the salty pacific/the sky vast/freedom/the clouds and i drifting as one/sailing the tides/of the cool brisk wind/careless and wild/much higher than i've been/in these salvordorianian mountains/riding home/from a soothing swim/holding onto short moments/that will one day mean something/nothing my sultulness remains secretly loving/yet a kiss my lips are secretly wanting/a prayer to a sky i am secretly launching/to a god/with some strange manner/who is secretly watching

JULY 10, 2004 NEW YORK CITY

freedom!/where?.. like a bird?/like a river?/unlike the robots on the street everyday/angry with the delivery and me/rush hour..already squashed some asian ladys foot..she didnt seem to be very forgiving/but now on the E finally/after my wrong train mistake/was heading to queens/man, and that took an extra 20 minutes/but rolling ok now/already to west 4th/few more stops and i'll be at chambers/bob marley in my headphones/ thinking of el salvador/beautiful/different from this place...spring st. now.. have to get ready to go

JULY 11, 2004

heart/what is heart?/a series of light emotions or dreams/ god?/fantasy?/self-esteem?/sexuality?/heart/what is heart?/something broken?/not really the important business call/you make over morning coffee/or the homeless lady who shouldn't be.

JULY 14, 2004

everything consumes so much time/a new york minute is exactly that/funny how 3:40 turns into 4:30 in five minutes/dont like it/cannot measure my day to well/how long the E or the 6 will take/or the few minutes of conversation i often have/or the cigerette i quickly smoke before returning into the building for another package to deliever/things around move so fast/measured by extrems and non-extrems/while i'm not used to having enough to do in a day/now seems in a day there just isnt any time/ between subway dalays/and to many crowded sidewalks/plans with freinds/that pass me by/i'm not used to it/and do not really know how clear i am/on what i'm really doing here

JULY 15, 2004

everyones like that ugly black shoe/the one that lady is wearing across the subway from me now/she looks really nice/she's writing something too/hold on! this is my stop./anyway/the F train has past twice/here now waiting for the V train/pretty late for work/i'm sure its almost 9am by now/but i'm enjoying the cool weather/all the buildings/spreading high in the freedom of another busy day/i'm in a hurry though/as usual/damn it!!!! another F train.

JULY 16, 2004

here at the park/new york city/the hope of success hanging so thin/on a wire/the balance/so in loom of the distance/ as if desire was a passion/i could only taste alone/no rememberence/just a broken heart/the romance gone/and the only thing left now/is daily train rides/faint sounds of traffic/and this homeless guy who keeps talking about spegetti and meat sauce

JULY 20, 2004

so many miles from home/alone/nothing between my destination/but the tracks this subway glides upon/no one but me/even with the company i consume myself with/its not the same/but the same coin i flip again/and it once again reminds me of the same things i've been searching for/the same desire set within me...working now/building bills to pay/building a life/to somehow be at the mercy of so many responsibilities/thats ok/its what i want...i guess/and although i like that idea/my dreams still remain controled/by someone who is not around/ myself?..a lover?..jesus?..whos to say./however my surroundings change/i miss it/for a moment/until i realize/that i miss nothing at all/images that confuse me/dreams are only fantasies/not reality/reality now/to struggle to walk/in these old pair of boots/or my pumas / close to/or just slightly less than the same

JULY 21, 2004

jersey city/journal square/another day...on the path train/riding quietly into manhattan..... (later) the hazordous tones of so many strangers surround me. police officers wrestling a fighting criminal to the ground in the subway. "no more mase!, no more mase!" i dont want to adjust myself to everyones misery. i have never seen so many miserable people. i must have forgotten about that aspect of this place. like the lady acrossed from me. nine west shoes, nice earings, a white mp3 cord running almost roboticly from her ears; she looks unapprochable, shut down and sad. she just left. i miss the joyous energy, after the bordom in a small town vrs. being tired of the constant pushing and inconvience of this over populated place. they say that this city never sleeps. but in actuality..that may be all it does. (later) i'm here. the path train is momentararly going to be departing. i'm going to 715 w175th st #5a. theres a a birthday party happening there at eight o'clock. a costume party i think. not that i'm really wearing a costume but i'll do. here goes the train. i'm not sure what stop to get off at to catch the A train. just enjoying the ride i guess. christopher st? not sure. 9th? don't know. 23rd and--14th and walk over to 8th ave-nope-33rd and walk over to penn station. man, this lady smells like strong menthol cigarettes.

AUGUST 16, 2004

on the floor/moving around/sounds/something cosmic/ spritual experts/green butterflies/tell me how high/i can go/into the skies/those blue skies/this sound/fresh/ liquid color/collective heat/licked my wounds when i was beat/and now this beat/that im stepping too/leads me on home/where i have dreamt from/drifted from/ sourberries/ funny mouths/down in the bottom/from the south/how the past/from the dawn is weeping for me now/when the haze that cleans the meadows no longer ligers around/and songs the birds were singing were singing only soft sounds/ bowed and shrug/burnt and broken from uptown to down

SEPTEMBER 1, 2004

going back to the trees/where i remember as a child/the sweet taste of whats behind/what i shouldn't know/what lay behind that red curtain/up in that dark castle/nothing but space../sheetrock and plywood../now i know there is no mystery..just one illusion after another. (later) i used to live in a dream/new york city/hollywood/miami beach/home of the many superficial/just like me/even now/ so stupid/as the many miles/i keep walking/doesnt stop me from walking/in the same places/i've walked over and over again/a cycle/looking/searching/and can't break free / from the pattern/that is only fantasy/not reality/my past a fantasy/and reality now a hope/where now i know/that nothing
is what it seeeeeeeeeems.

..

The eskimo nebula...

Music:

Madonna

Movies:

Books:

WITH A TANGLED SKEIN PT.1
Cedric stood before her, then dropped to one knee and posed. Niobe kept a straight face, determined not to spoil his effort. He took a breath and sang. His voice was untrained but strong, and he had good pitch and control, and a great deal of feeling. It was a nice song, with an evocative melody, and she was impressed. As he sang, he reached forth to take her hand. At his touch, something happened. Suddenly there was music, as of a mighty orchestra, filling the forest with the power of its sound. His voice seemed to become amplified, magnificent, evocative, compelling, beautiful. She sat stunned mesmerized by his amazing presence, by the phenomenal music, and she only came out of it when the song ended. As he stopped singing, the grand music also died away. "what's that?" Niobe asked, awed, still holding his hand. He looked concerned. "Is something wrong?" he said. "That music!! Where did it come from?" she questioned. "Oh-that? I thought you knew. That just my magic. It runs in my family, off and on.I'm sorry if i-" "Sorry!" she exclaimed. "It's absolutly beautiful! How do you do it?" He shrugged, letting go of her hand. "It just comes when I sing, when I touch. see." He put his hand on the trunk of a tree and sang. Niobe heard nothing special-but the tree shuddered as if reverberating to some potent sound, and the dryad (a tree nymph) almost fell off her branch. Niobe put her own hand on the bark, and the orchestra returned. "Cedric-it's terrific! It's-an experience!" She was unable to define it further. "Sing to me again!" She urged him. "But the song's finished. All that follows is the maiden's response." Niobe took his hand. "Then sing that, Cedric!" He sang, and the orchestra was with him, buttressing his voice and elevating it to the transcendence manifested before. It was not mere sound or mere music; it seemed to be more than three dimensions, as if pure emotion had been harnessed into melody. Could love, she asked herself, be more than this?
WITH A TANGLED SKEIN PT.2
Niobe's life as Clotho settled in comfortably enough, now that she had made the necessary emotional decisions. Each Aspect slept for six or eight hours, and they generally staggered these, so that at any given moment one Aspect would be dominant-would have the body-and another would be keeping her conscious company, while the third would be tuned out or asleep. For convenience they generally proceeded from sleep, to company, to dominant, so that an Aspect could be fully alert and ready the moment she took over the body. sometimes they varied it, and special circumstances caused them all to wake or sleep together, but normally the routine held. Niobe liked the other two. They talked with each other a lot, comparing notes on experiences and feelings. The other two had eavesdropped on Niobe's first engagement with Chronos, the incarnation of time, for this was as novel to them as to her. They had indeed not conspired to put her in the position; they had not been having an affair with Chronos. Evidently he, in the progress of his life toward their past, had not been interested in the to-him new clotho. "But the body is only the body," Lachesis, the middle-aged Aspect of fate said philosophically as Niobe spun her Thread of Life from the supply of yarn she had fetched from the Void. "You are young, you like to think that there is only one man for each woman and one woman for each man, but any combination can occur, and couple, and love. In this office we are forced to be less romantic and more pragmatic." "yes," Niobe agreed sadly. "And Chronos is a good person. But I'll always love Cedric."
i'm am a huge fan of Pierce Anthony!!! i'm reading Incarnations on Immortality; its a series of seven complete-in-itself novels; and although they are complete individul stories, the charactors are all closly related. i've read many popular books by many new york times best-selling writers, but i have never read anything like this. it has definitly changed my mind about many things. either that or i am extreemly obsessive. when i was soon to be moving to florida with my mom i began to read book 2, Bearing an Hourglass. it's about the keeper of time. he lives life backwards and works in an office to help maintain lifes and souls, making sure that destiny is not corrupted. amazing!! a little confusing but wonderful. so from then i read book one, On a Pale Horse. its distinction is simalar, yet refering to death. now i am reading book three. it is about the three aspects of fate. there are three different ladies who live in one body and do three different jobs related to the fate of the world. they can change their appearance to any three aspects. there is a young and beautiful one who spins the thread of life, a middle-aged one who measures the thread of life, and an older and wiser one who cuts the thread of life. next i'm going to be reading about the incarnation of war, and then nature. after that i will read about the incarnation of evil and then good. if there is someone out there who has read these books, i would love to hear your thoughts on them. they are extrodanary love stories