scribblings in the dark

mood: roasted

music: die in winter (haujobb edit 2)--:wumpscut:

has it been all night that i've sat and confessed to the stagheads kept on our walls (sometimes they listen better with glassed expressions). i know you think we talk too much but you see they're the only ones i have secrets from. the ones i watched for days and said i shall take your life to sate boredom, the ones i stared eye to eye when i slit open stomachs and dressed them for trophies (and those thoughts are the only secrets worth spilling).

Tags: death

Posted at 07:18 am | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: thumb twiddling

music: schism--tool

if you're still looking for your son, ask the old watchmaker who lives precarious at the top of town--i think years of bending metal into dimensional timepieces have warped him to god (that's why he's blind and deaf to everything but the second-hand ticktock) so if you can phrase your question in the cold sweep of eons he might hear. and when he does, expect an answer of cogs and slipstream (gears rust and degrade, watchsprings want coiling; your son has gone where the other broken parts have gone.)

Tags: death, gods, technology

Posted at 09:47 am | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: yeah holidays

music: amphetamines--eve 6

and all our buildings are sleeping fitfully now, tangled in the sheets of cityscape and muttering nightmares of more bombs and fire. somewhere underneath we're squished (lucky i gave up my bones long ago for cotton stuffing and tight stitching) and can't breath under the bulk of restless still terrored about our wars. i'll climb into your arms later tonight, you insomniac city, and together we'll dream of brighter days.

Tags: apocalypse, industry

Posted at 10:27 am | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: stop sleep

music: war within a breath--rage against the machine

cold morning prayers we wove together from lengths of wishes and fraying dreams, a circle of us spooling and pulling and knitting with shivers for fingers. when they needed thread we unwound it from our hems, and when they needed needles i yanked out handfuls of stiff bristling hair, and when they said we are finished who shall wear our blanket first i shook my head not me, give it to the youngest who still had her dreams to protect.

Tags: blergh, fantasy

Posted at 11:07 am | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: who can return

music: diversify yo bonds--tittsworth

they lived in junglefever darkness, nights of broad leaves and starspackling light and one day i said i will find the rest of the light, i have seen it in dreams where the sunbeams are as wide and numerous as these trees and as close as the humidity. a year of walking one way and i have found it--the cliffside outside the forest with cat screams of heights and dark growling winds. and though i promised everyone i don't think i'm returning now.

Tags: fantasy

Posted at 10:41 am | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: so professional

music: spacewaves

who else has longlost centers and collapsible childhoods? a memory that fits in back pockets and suitcase corners, folded along the creases between months and stained with the chemical dustless of a thousand hotel rooms.

Tags: childhood, things i do

Posted at 09:37 am | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: pynchon

music: more chattel

and at low tide i take wildblack handfuls of the biologic and say here i will build such a castle of pitted rocks and the lessening sea, here i will collect driftwood in my stables and an army of carved pearl. i draw it all like fingers re-emerging in sacred cupped hands and run it back up to dry land (yet i can never outrun the fates).

Tags: death

Posted at 02:23 pm | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: puzzles

music: chat chat

let's make a family tradition of this, the way i say shake hands with old pennisulas and gulfs (can't you see the way we broke away in paleolithic and maybe now just retouched?) and your waters meet my waters (salt and foamy and full of sand for me and deep mountinous fresh for you and together we are.)

Tags: weather

Posted at 03:52 pm | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: surprisingly

music: here be plans

put down your economies, you giant of old children's hills and sleddrun eyes, i know you and your lemonade blood too sweet with grainy sludge (it will tear you apart like a child scraping the sides of their snow tunnel) until your skin sinks hushblue and you're all puddles, awaiting a jump.

Tags: childhood

Posted at 06:43 pm | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: errands

music: one--ungrateful

beyond they carried mossy lives upon their backs, widen than my armspan and cracked quartzwhite with ancient curses--they were making their way through me, stepping over this poor huddled old man with abstracted gaits. when i came back ten years later they were returning in the other direction, still plodding in same speeds, still rolling boulderous idle and hoping it would crack apart one day.

Tags: blergh

Posted at 08:16 am | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: everything's

music: heartbreaker--mstrkrft

night closes with canvas flaps and the inside of the big top is nothing but stars and meteors (that's where they take their acrobatic routine from; the wheeling galaxies, the pyramids of stardust) but i saw plenty of stars long ago when this skin stretched smoothly and these bones outran the seasons; there's no transfixation here and i move out from the other slackjawed ones singing exploration out to the heavens.

Tags: carnivals, childhood, gods

Posted at 08:42 am | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: oh man

music: six days at the bottom of the ocean--explosions in the sky

you've got so much light it's taking all the edges from earth--no more steepdrop cliffs, no cracking tree limbs, no shattered rocks at landslide ends. there's erosion against the air and it presses against our sculptures we praised for their clear delineations, our modern architecture stark with glass and skymetal--all swallowed in white bloom and a soft summersun hum you're singing.

Tags: art, from others, senses

Posted at 10:04 am | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: always so

music: why do i keep counting--the killers

up up up you little seedlings, you green antennaes watered with crossocean television and deep space sound, stretch up into a radio sunlight where your broadcast rains in godvoice and pirated airwaves. i can pinch off the blossoms and sell them for sonar dishes, or let them come to fruit gold and ripe with satellite wanderlust--now your seeds will helicopter into low orbit and touch down years later on far continents, still searching for the voices that raised them first from soil.

Tags: gods, speech, technology

Posted at 08:49 am | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: leases

music: where eagles have been--wolfmother

today i packed up our trees and grass and sky and moved out, folding the expanses of summers in the flowerbed mud and winters catching icicles from eaves down into my suitcase and wadding old years along the sides to keep them safe. and when i get there i'll shake out the wrinkles and try to piece them back together--they all survived the journey but i can't remember exactly how i had it at home. it's all unfamiliar edges and measures now, rebent around a new space and it's never going to be quite right i know.

Tags: fantasy, things i do

Posted at 09:51 am | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: wildgoes

music: right in two--tool

there was an inch of sewer across our floor and she burned my coffee so i dumped it out with a hawking spit (come back here and make me a proper cup) met with an empty plate rattling across the table (make your own breakfast) and it's up our ankles and knees with old blood. our walls swell, warp pregnant and bruised and the windows leak black and up to the attic, the entire darkness of filthy water and cold embraces.

Tags: interpersonals

Posted at 09:40 am | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: piled up

music: mother russia--iron maiden

father were there always giants hiding under the mountains with redwood limbs? i saw them rise earlier and rearrange the horizons easily, with their slow acre gaits and pick skyscrapers from their teeth. they look gaunt from malnutrition and the sinkhole eyes hunger with eons so tell me tell me tell me the land's gone to dust and bad air and yet you're still propped up at the kitchen table with your hair in fists and your eyes weeping.

Tags: apocalypse, childhood, fantasy

Posted at 08:30 am | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: crafty

music: camoflage--third eye blind

today i'll teach you how we pull the clouds flat into scraps and quilt them together until it's one crazy patchwork suffocating, how i steal batting from smokestracks and dying birds, and how i loop through the tightweave sky (it involves bleeding fingers so beware) to snug everything down.today, if we get everything done, we'll keep you warm from the cold space winters for eons and eons and sew your eyes shut as well.

Tags: things i do, weather

Posted at 08:39 am | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: nowheres

music: witchcraft--wolfmother

out in the junkpiles of cities, dirty and crashed with broken cases and acidic wiring, i'm digging for things to use. maybe old grimy goggles to play robotic vision when i eat tinned dinners, maybe lock of fiberoptic hair (too sleek for this) leading back to her asleep under blueprints and old cardboard, sleeptalking boot loaders and brushed aluminum.

Tags: childhood, chris and lucy

Posted at 09:31 am | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: i'll take that

music: every you every me--placebo

sun on the face and i'm awake, white open eyes jittering because they came on sunny days (something about cloud cover, we guess) and with the rays of sunrise in perfectly blue sky rushed pillartall fingers, scrapheaps of cables and switchboards hardened on re-entry and hungry. it was boyhood summer and i had to run for the mud of the basement until it was overcast and rainy again.

Tags: blergh, childhood

Posted at 08:51 am | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: some linux

music: eye--smashing pumpkins

oceans gone and we cut our new shelters from salt blocks, mined from the trenches across greater plains. there was a terrible rot for the first year as the seagulls (now enough to make their clouds stretch continents) ate bloated fish and whales gasping on the slopes but it's all bones now, spires of ribcages and spines white and cracked like the skyscrapers we're building on the shore.

Tags: apocalypse, industry

Posted at 11:04 am | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend