tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-80117354492261977832024-02-20T06:54:27.786-08:00It came from the depths...Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934417053174801504noreply@blogger.comBlogger49125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8011735449226197783.post-66170886545683887092009-05-01T21:54:00.000-07:002009-05-01T22:29:57.821-07:00I broke a promise<br />I left you <br />on the ledge<br />you brought your trauma<br />I turned<br />and then I fled<br /><br /><br />and it may have <br />not been the bravest thing<br />and it may have <br />not been the strongest thing<br />but it seems to have been <br />the smarter thing<br />to do<br /><br />I betrayed a trust<br />I left her <br />on the bed<br />you cried your honest<br />tears I lied <br />and then I sped away <br /><br />and it may have<br />not been the bravest thing<br />and it may have <br />not been the strongest thing<br />you maybe<br />might think less of me <br />if you knew<br /><br />I was dishonest<br />I told you<br />I wasn't on the edge<br />you let your guard down<br />I tore you down to shreds<br /><br />and it may have<br />not been the nicest thing<br />and it may have been<br />quite a selfish thing<br />but I didn't say that <br />I would do anything<br />lessMichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934417053174801504noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8011735449226197783.post-41037895022773846102009-03-26T15:31:00.001-07:002009-03-26T15:31:36.543-07:00You fell into a rut<br />Your spring had been sprung<br />Your clocks all run down<br />Feet keep flailing around<br />As you’re trying to run<br /><br />And the stark messy sky <br />in your kaleidoscope mind<br />Keeps on whirling away <br />A dervish a day<br />And you wonder why<br /><br />The sun won’t come up<br />The teardrops won’t come<br />The stars won’t go down<br />But they huddle around<br />Asking you for the time<br /><br />A future commandeered<br />A feeling cantilevered <br />Until it wears out<br />Until it falls down<br />We all come around<br />We’re stuck in this town<br /><br />We can’t escape<br />To a time or place <br />Where I can’t see your face<br />And you can’t see mineMichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934417053174801504noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8011735449226197783.post-77255163563833041712009-03-22T23:58:00.000-07:002009-03-23T00:26:50.138-07:00think it's about that time<br />that I be leaving her<br />seems I've crossed a line<br />that we didn't even know was there<br />I can't forget her eyes<br />and that makes you sad<br />I can't pretend I'm wise<br />why won't it all go away<br />when I'm sitting on the shore<br />looking out all the waves<br />part of me tries to jump in <br />and part of me walks away<br />I think I should go back home<br />if only i knew<br />where that would be where it would lead<br />if only I had a clue<br />I could go line by line <br />but, they're all recited by you<br />if i could buy more time<br />if i could make it work<br />don't you think that I <br />would have tried that first<br />if you meet me at the shore<br />could you teach me how to breathe<br />when all around me is the water<br />and the sand on my feet<br />would you leave me at the beach<br />to go back to your depths<br />would you have me standing here<br />contemplating little elseMichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934417053174801504noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8011735449226197783.post-90511174852484586072009-03-19T23:42:00.001-07:002009-03-20T00:18:58.450-07:00draft for kevinFirst verse:<br /><br /><br />I don't want to lose myself in you<br />I can't stand it, I've got too much to lose<br />waiting on a resolution<br />fixing for a new condition<br />I can't make myself let go of you<br /><br />second verse:<br /><br />tornado turning round inside my head<br />all I think, all I feel, all seems like lead<br />when did things get so tired <br />why'd I turn into a liar<br />Couldn't just keep things in the end<br /><br />chorus?<br /><br />and the waiting is the hardest part<br />next to your smiles<br />the waiting is the saddest part<br />makes me want to <br /><br />tear right into you<br />leave you drown<br />break right through to you<br />spin you round<br />can't do that to you <br />wouldn't be fair<br />even though you<br />left me thereMichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934417053174801504noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8011735449226197783.post-36854555377102638782009-03-19T22:41:00.000-07:002009-03-19T22:54:40.590-07:00For AmberHe doesn't think<br />about the damage as<br />he wraps<br />constellations<br />round your head<br />not thinking about<br />the gravity<br />of the situation<br />you can't go round<br />with your head full<br />of stars and tears<br />and the playing of<br />endless games<br />he just is out<br />for a look round <br />a trip down<br />from Alpha Centauri<br />and back<br />relatively speaking<br />an orbital visitor<br />waiting for collisionMichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934417053174801504noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8011735449226197783.post-34261049943750734592009-03-18T21:14:00.000-07:002009-03-18T21:19:40.758-07:00I reclaimed<br />in a dream<br />a time lost memory<br />of the smile<br />you gave<br />when you first surrounded me<br />warm and wet<br />like June rain<br />the sparkle<br />when our eyes met<br />you laughed and said<br />Why, hello.<br />I smirked and managed <br />a reply.<br />You shifted your hips<br />sighed out Oh.<br />and I think that's<br />when I lost my mindMichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934417053174801504noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8011735449226197783.post-32512976123515807672009-03-18T21:07:00.000-07:002009-03-18T21:13:59.520-07:00The simple curve<br />of bodies twined<br />the simple times<br />we left behind<br />we made love<br />underneath the bridge<br />not caring<br />for anything but this<br />we rushed along<br />so unaware<br />of consequence<br />in the midnight air<br />I smoked a cigarette<br />you laughed once more<br />we didn't contemplate<br />evening the score<br />the daylight came<br />washed away our years<br />the daylight came<br />birds trilled a melody<br />we our fears<br />behind us<br />we realized<br />what love was <br />how insubstantially<br />small we seem<br />looking back now<br />from memory<br />I wonder where you are<br />where you sleep tonight<br />the things you think of<br />before out go the lights<br />do you think<br />of the way we were<br />of the bridge<br />and the morning birdsMichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934417053174801504noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8011735449226197783.post-75605940551701163552009-02-24T04:25:00.001-08:002009-02-24T04:36:56.034-08:00It has been too longI'm perplexed by the feeling of bitterness<br />on the eve of seeing you tomorrow<br />it has been too long since I've seen you<br />since before she died<br />I am afraid<br />that I will see the afterimages of her in your face<br />that I will lose my composure<br />which is odd since of us all<br />you look the least like how she looked<br />I am afraid<br />to see you tomorrow<br />yet happy<br />it has been too long<br />too too long since we have been brothers<br />instead of time lost strangers<br />I am so glad to know you will be near<br />and sad that I will not be alone anymoreMichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934417053174801504noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8011735449226197783.post-22948507950435165312009-02-20T12:54:00.000-08:002009-02-20T13:00:42.560-08:00Paper Flowers<meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CRoger%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal">Coming home and coming round</p> <p class="MsoNormal">from a fugue</p> <p class="MsoNormal">i’m awakened from a reverie</p> <p class="MsoNormal">covered in blanket mummification</p> <p class="MsoNormal">constricted by the weight</p> <p class="MsoNormal">of ocean</p> <p class="MsoNormal">of reptile death</p> <p class="MsoNormal">of family</p> <p class="MsoNormal">covered like the humidity</p> <p class="MsoNormal">that comes off your body</p> <p class="MsoNormal">pressed against me</p> <p class="MsoNormal">your kiss too hard for breath</p> <p class="MsoNormal">i remember summers and swimming</p> <p class="MsoNormal">lovemaking beneath god and man</p> <p class="MsoNormal">the old town center and holding hands</p> <p class="MsoNormal">crushed by the weight of calendar pages</p> <p class="MsoNormal">pressed to paper flower thickness</p> <p class="MsoNormal">i recall our last times sweetly</p> <p class="MsoNormal">bitterly</p><p class="MsoNormal">hardly at all</p> Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934417053174801504noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8011735449226197783.post-44120895663635166192009-02-13T12:45:00.000-08:002009-02-13T12:48:50.817-08:00In which I pontificateSo, I haven't posted anything here for approximately five thousand years, mostly because I've been dreadful busy with school, working a full time job and a bunch of other excuses. That said I'm thinking about taking some of the stuff here and some of the private stuff and putting it in a book for sale. Also, there will be more posts in the future. You have been warned. You know who you are and why you needed warning in the first place.Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934417053174801504noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8011735449226197783.post-35570804376069462412008-10-06T03:17:00.000-07:002008-10-06T03:18:07.615-07:00Why you looking down lovely<br />is it cause it hurts to look up at the sky<br />with the sunlight so bright<br />the colors so vibrant<br />the sky so vast and vacant<br />or cause the world below is of<br />much more interest<br />can I walk and look with you at the ground<br />will you show me why it seems we can't connect<br />is it cause my feet aren't touching the ground<br />my head in the clouds<br />I can't focus on the blades of grass<br />or the mounds of dirt<br />maybe we can meet at the horizon<br />if we just keep walkingMichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934417053174801504noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8011735449226197783.post-32073967060030946542008-10-06T02:57:00.001-07:002008-10-06T02:57:51.790-07:00I have not seen the colour of your eyesI have not seen the colour of your eyes<br />too long it has been<br />yet everyday I see your picture<br />on the screen of the window<br />to the world<br />too long<br />I have not heard your voice<br />but I speak to you everyday<br />on the screen that connects us all<br />so long has it been since I felt your touch<br />or your breath upon my neck<br />but it seems only a matter of time<br />until technology fixes that tooMichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934417053174801504noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8011735449226197783.post-85911470359675926502008-10-05T19:39:00.001-07:002008-10-05T19:39:32.292-07:00Funny how it's worked out<br />that you and I have become comfortable<br />with this arrangement<br />of toying and teasing each other<br />in person and long distance<br />how I send you words about your<br />elegance and desirability<br />and you send me images of your flesh<br />and mementos of our nights<br />I wonder if you save these words<br />like I save the memories they're built on<br />I wonder if you wore that skirt for me<br />and then you bite your lip and I know<br />you do and did.Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934417053174801504noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8011735449226197783.post-23324690980299105192008-10-05T19:38:00.003-07:002008-10-05T19:38:59.943-07:00I am so very aware of the curve<br />of your hips<br />as I have them in my hands<br />with them I find it very easy to signal<br />how and when I would like you to move<br />and you too have become adept<br />at communicating through them<br />as you're quite too busy<br />with your mouth to be botheredMichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934417053174801504noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8011735449226197783.post-8588406631444039332008-10-05T19:38:00.001-07:002008-10-05T19:38:30.026-07:00I wish you were here to pass the lamentable weekend<br />days and nights pass in succession<br />out of discussions<br />out of orange juice in the fridge<br />go to the store and meander the aisle<br />wide enough for one but not for two holding hands<br />walking carefully on the light colored squares<br />passing the piles of frozen poultries<br />turning the corner I see that her ass looks like yours<br />making me flee for the comfort of homeMichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934417053174801504noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8011735449226197783.post-77721022013099035002008-10-05T19:37:00.002-07:002008-10-05T19:38:02.853-07:00Let me tell you bout a girl I know<br />how her smile reflects in her eyes<br />about her lips and her hips and her thighs<br />how she could blow your mind<br />how she could make it<br />worth your time<br />how she seems to know<br />just where you want to go<br />how to get from a to b<br />and everywhere in between<br />let me tell you bout the things she does<br />how she'll tease you while you eat<br />oh and the things she does with her teeth<br />how I can't get her out of my head<br />how I can't wait til she's back in bed<br />and oh the things she says to me<br />how her smell is in my sheets<br />and fingertips on my cheeksMichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934417053174801504noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8011735449226197783.post-66783159100679183062008-10-05T19:37:00.001-07:002008-10-05T19:37:33.485-07:00my favorite time to look in your eyes<br />is when I'm between your thighs<br />mouth on your mound lips to lips<br />your adoration shines right through<br />and the way your lids flutter<br />when I languidly lap at your<br />lovely little button<br />sends shivers down my spine<br />how you tangle your hands in my hair<br />pushing up and down from both sides<br />I can feel you looking down at me<br />in pleasure and wonder and joy<br />leaving yourself on my chin and sheetsMichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934417053174801504noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8011735449226197783.post-64250511581717562272008-10-05T19:36:00.001-07:002008-10-05T19:36:42.356-07:00What is the half life on longing<br />the statute of limitations on love<br />the length of time before<br />I can move the fuck on<br />what is the depth of depression<br />the time you have to wait<br />for the sound the pebble makes<br />after it's been thrown down the well<br />why are we always falling and late<br />chasing after rabbits<br />in hats with pocketwatches<br />who sets the time frame for this<br />or that<br />and what are you doing<br />why are you still around<br />orbiting silently<br />like a ghost or whisper<br />just out of earshotMichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934417053174801504noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8011735449226197783.post-70628382585978105332008-10-05T19:35:00.000-07:002008-10-05T19:36:07.480-07:00Audacity must have compelled me to think<br />that the blue white shine of newness would last<br />that the days of talking til dawn would prevail<br />when time and logic dictated otherwise<br />but when have I had time for logic<br />I wrote you letters that I never sent<br />thoughts trapped in amber by fear<br />destroyed in the stasis of notebooks left behind<br />aborted attempts at ambitious adulation<br />how could I have thought that we were anything<br />other than two people<br />circling the heavens like constellations<br />Orion and Cassiopeia trapped forever<br />in twilight dances and midnight remonstrationsMichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934417053174801504noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8011735449226197783.post-2732383774187633832008-10-05T19:34:00.002-07:002008-10-05T19:35:24.895-07:00The crashing waves of yesteryearThe crashing waves of yesteryear<br />break upon the reefs of the present<br />and we sit on the beach watching them<br />counting the seagulls<br />picking our thoughts from the foam<br />throwing them back from the beachhead<br />watching them skim against the sunset<br />paper airplanes against a fire sky<br />and we sit back down and watch<br />as night falls and the tide<br />takes with it our memoriesMichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934417053174801504noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8011735449226197783.post-45422180219680284432008-10-05T19:34:00.001-07:002008-10-05T19:34:40.467-07:00the Death of Your Alto VoiceThe death of your alto voice brings tears to mine eyes<br />waiting desperately for the days when I hear it anew<br />this time might persistence pay off<br />might it be seen for the adoration it really is<br />opposed to the obsessiveness it seems<br />might it be that once<br />absence will make that which is absent missed<br />instead of forgotten<br />how could you forget about all the things we said<br />the promised dreams of tomorrow<br />bright white hot light of love letters sent instantaneously<br />streaming across the ether of interwhatever<br />from you to me and back again<br />we are living in the modern age and time is speeding up<br />perhaps that means the life cycle of love is tooMichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934417053174801504noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8011735449226197783.post-9842670958641788472008-10-05T19:32:00.000-07:002008-10-05T19:33:34.127-07:00If she wanted she could rule the world<br />she could steal my soul for a sunbeam smile<br />if you're lacking inspiration<br />all you have to do is reach outside<br />feel the warmth of daybreak on your skin<br />all you had to do was say anything<br />anything at all would have been worth<br />the weight of eternity<br />all I want is to feel the grass between my toes<br />and to see you on a blanket reading these<br />words calling out to the depth of temerityMichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934417053174801504noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8011735449226197783.post-28573727823067592912008-10-05T19:31:00.000-07:002008-10-05T19:32:31.755-07:00Between you and IGilded honey dipped words<br />have not been enough<br />have not been insightful<br />have not cracked the hard walls that you've erected<br />supposing like all things<br />it pales as time goes on<br />we even take for granted the glory of sunsets<br />and smiles, half lidded and shy<br />words mouthed across hallways<br />across oceans and deserts<br />across the gulf between me and you<br />I don't suppose it matters<br />for it would seem you think all things do<br />but I protest to you<br />that not all things are like flowers<br />they do not wither<br />nor their scent falter in intensity<br />nor do their petals lose sheen or luster<br />they persist unwatered and unattended<br />no matter how neglected they might be<br />in coffeeshops and kitchen counters<br />on the window sill between you and IMichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934417053174801504noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8011735449226197783.post-83747822136997523032008-10-05T19:30:00.000-07:002008-10-05T19:31:36.370-07:00symphony of twoThe long straight plateau of your score<br />stretches out in front of me<br />while hips work a fervent rhythm<br />in time to internal orchestration<br />a symphony of two<br />the hard shift of fast breaths<br />punctuated by the snare taut cries and sighs<br />of salacious slippery slides<br />up and down the octaves<br />heading for the bridge of chorus and verse<br />the junction of bawdy and verve<br />crescendos piling on each other<br />with cymbal crash punctuations<br />building an anticipation<br />an emancipation<br />dedication<br />of transitive mirthMichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934417053174801504noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8011735449226197783.post-24678651763989395682008-05-24T03:15:00.000-07:002008-05-24T03:17:09.472-07:00sitting on the edge of the bed<br />looking at each other<br />holding hands<br />radio playing in the background<br />the air around us snaps with anticipatory sizzles<br />eyes, fingers, grazing<br />barely touching lips to<br />mouth neck chest<br />losing definition<br />inside each little particularity<br />every little singularity<br />each half moan<br />and whisper<br />every sharp intake<br />brushstroke of<br />foudations for evenings not yet spent<br />in love and sweat<br />steam and adorationMichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934417053174801504noreply@blogger.com0