Tuesday, June 28, 2005

millions of fish in the sea...

why is it that every time I turn around, I see
someone else who wants a piece of me?
Why must it be that each time I venture out,
I find someone else who wins the bout?
Either fuck me or fight me, either smile or nod,
either promise me life or leave me, by God.

If you lie to me girl, I won't lie with you,
If you spill on my fire, I'll never be true,
and you'll realize ten days after I've lost all faith
that you weren't the one who was given the grace
to decide our lonely losers' fate

But I do like the way you wore those fancy panties
just in case
you decided I was worthy to take them off of you and
do all the bad deeds that I was intending to do
from the moment we met.

because that is as long as it took.

Call me when you're ready, call me when you're tired.
Call me when there is simply nothing left
of what we once had. And let it ring, and ring,
and ring.

And when someone picks up, know it isn't me,
it's just a drunken shadow of a man who you once loved
and when my voice comes through your line to shake your window
make certain you know it doesn't come from the heart,
but from the whiskey.

And the Lord and many ladies know I love to fuck,
but I don't love fucking you anymore.

Monday, June 27, 2005

Eristic Reality

Only fools rush in
Wisely dictates the tune

Hard to obey
When one cant but stare at the moon

One minute all is good
then it slipps through ones fingers like sand

Better to be safe
do not look up from the land

URBANE

Wake up, motherfuckers. It's time to write.

Here is this. On a sunny Southern California afternoon, when there were many, many cold beers and many raggae rips as the night slipped into day, on a sunny Southern California afternoon when the girls were right and the smoke was kind, on a day like today when inspiration slams you down on the dancefloor as one beat is twisted into another... On a day like today, one goes back in time, one is drawn to days of simpler instances when the complication of the ages is but a fleeting mescaline emotion and all is right with this small world.

It's a salsa explosion, and I reside at its heart.

Friday, June 03, 2005

URBANE

So here I am after a long hiatus, a time when things are as promising as they are eventually disappointing. Things are good. One thing is for sure. The friends we have in this roving life, the memories we cloud and manipulate and conjure and feed, the dreams which keep us warm on those cold and lonely California nights, those are the things that this life was created for. To be so close, to be ripped away, to be so close once again. This is the fucking poetry, baby. This is what keeps us coming back again and again to be beaten again and again to keep us coming back again and again.

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?