this fear is sad. whenever it comes to visit, my eyes droop down and the corners of my mouth reach for the drains. 

what if i am too messed up already, what if my heart is the biggest mistake ever made?

the animal

(howl into my ear;
give me your claws.
i want the animal in you;

in you i shall nest.)

take your clothes off, take them off for me.
let me see the scars and the marks,
those dark moles and faint sun spots.

i want to memorize the way your fur grows.
i want to tickle my cheeks with your goosebumps.
let me count the bruises and the cuts.

i'll bless them with names;
i'll lick away the blood stains.
we can lie skin to skin for days.

i have enough kisses for your brows and lashes,
for nails, teeth and toes, for thighs and knees;
in your curves and dents i'll nuzzle my nose.

let me see your skin dance.
through and around; your every breath performs,
through and around, an ancient holy chant.

i don't want your dreams; forget the ifs and the maybes.
all those regrets you carry are nothing but sad stories.
you don't have to utter a single word,

your body holds all the promises.
don't tell me any secrets, hold your confessions;
just take your clothes off, take them off for me.

there are somethings you shouldn't share with anyone.
somethings mean more if you keep it in your chest,
your chest of memories guarded by your infamous ribs.

being obsessed with words doesn't really help,
that obsession demands you to express yourself.
you don't write everything afraid they might be read,
but the words that align themselves into sentences
surprise you when you least expect it.
you utter those words when you are off guard.
you leave your sentences here and there
in the company of strangers.
your lips remember the taste as they came out;
your eyes never forget the faces as they listened to you.
as you walk away you ache with the need
the need to pull the words back into you.

you are not less because of it,
you are not more.
you feel scattered, out of control.
knowledge is power in your book;
you think they have power over you.

haven't you learned by now,
don't you already know, sweet child?
if the words hold the true power of hurting you
you never let them out of your chest.
you have always guarded your softest spots,
just like you covered your head
when all those blows came raining down on you.

you already know,
you guard yourself.
you guard your heart,
you guard the little demons
that live down in the cellars
of your vast, dark dreams.
if you speak of them,
if they manage to get out,
you know it within,
the receiver will never,
never ever use them,
use them to crush you;
or it is you carrying the dead out
to be buried in a stranger's chest.
the dead has no power over you.
 
if those words you yourself formed
causes pain that demands tears,
it is because you know how to mourn
those dead little brats of yours.

i have a feeling i would make an excellent lumberjack. maybe after building my house, building my life , i could adopt a girl nobody wants. i wouldn't think me weak for loving her unconditionally, and maybe she would manage to mend some of the wounds of desertion. i would tell her to be careful, she would tell me to fuck off. i'd live modestly and put aside some money for the day she wants to make her own way in this world... she would believe in her strength, for i would tell her stories of my weak youth, for i would tell her stories of how i grew the right muscles to survive. she would resent me for running away from the city, but thus she would know you don't have to stay anywhere forever. the only place you can't ever leave is your own head, she would know to spare her energy to better align her thoughts, better understand her feelings... i have a feeling i would make an excellent lumberjack.

or a fisherman, maybe if i became a fisherman i would learn to look at fish heads without trying to suppress the urge to run away...

the woods are calling me
the dark and the humanless rhapsody

i know it, the scream is rising from within
i feel it, my eyes are hovering thunder clouds
everynight i hug the pillows and fall to dreaming
a michievous smile on my face
a quick flicker of the eyelashes
i write my scenarios and direct them in sleep

people get scared when i tell them
they don't know how it is 
sometimes i just have the power to control
to direct, rewrite, reroute what my mind sees
they get scared and choose to think me lying
"sure" one says, "oh really" utters another
i keep on telling them of my dreams
eyes grow bigger and quick glances get exchanged
"you should write these", somebody says
"i write what i want, you can write them if you like"
i smile, i look down, i look up again
they got angry a second ago
i am not just a liar anymore
i am a smartass, too
the familiar freak of a big city
they are trying to decide what to do with me
but no, nobody walks away at this point
i am still entertaining, and i haven't shed any blood yet

the woods, the woods are calling
i know you can't hear
not one sound makes it through
i bubble and boil and keep walking
i am strong, i am steady
i dream what i like
you can't get to me

"never apologize.
never explain."

i forgot about it today...tomorrow is a new beginning, no? maybe tomorrow i'll wake up fresh and new and able. maybe in the morning i will feel "enough." do i even remember a time i felt like that? i do, of course i do.

do you remember a time i was enough for you? you don't, of course you don't.

remember when you loved me

it is one of those days. i don't want to read. i don't want to write. i don't want to talk. if i tried to smile today i'd probably look like a meat crazed wolf. if i pushed myself, my creation process would hit a wall of anger. and yes, the blood boiling inside is too hot to expose.

unfortunately all the paying and school work i have on my to-do-list demand some sort of creativity or objective analysis. it is a very subjective day today. hate and anger could blind me if i didn't know myself so well... i am a good experimenter/learner on days like these. so i've been playing around the photoshop and running through tutorials all day long. trying all kinds of things and saving the results as i go, leaving the question of which one is better to a more objective day.

the photo above is a result of my mechanical actions. i have 27 different versions of it. this one was number 13, and i didn't close it's window as i made my way up to 27. stealing glimpses between each one, it was obvious that this one was tickling my belly from inside.

3 hours later it still hadn't left my insides, but i couldn't trust my judgement today. i sent it to a friend. the subject line read "playing around" the e-mail read "mucu."

she responded with a mere "different." i dissected the word, it turned out it wasn't "what-the-hell-is-this different" or "shitty different" or "interesting different". this one was different in a "neat" way. and no, i have no idea what that means.

she said "submit it;" i said "find a name."

yesyes, you are right, "remember when you loved me" was what she came up with. honestly i can't see the connection. i don't even know if she meant "remember when you loved me?" or "i remember when you loved me."

so this photo tickles my insides and makes a friend remember a long-lost love...

"never apologize.
never explain."

it is kind of late to try to wrap my head around this... i've been working on "less apologies, less explanations" for over a year now; but "no apologies and no explanations" sounds a bit extreme, don't you think?

before you say hello
you should know
what i am famous for

(i can't cook to please your boss
i can't sing or play to feed your ears
i dance, but i don't tango or polka or waltz
i am not known to hold down a job
and am not likely to get filthy rich
my skin and flesh might actually be
the only soft spots you'll ever get to see)

i am nothing exceptional
except for those words i utter
except for those words that slip
those words that mostly get dismissed
but reappear once i am gone and done with

let my hair grow waves
let my hands grow peace
let my heart grow and heal and forget

a part of me is still waiting for a miracle
/i am lucky i don't have faith

somedays it is pointless to try to tame my feelings with the whip of logic. and knowing 'this, too, shall pass' only aggravates the itch. 

pity, all this love, all this yearning could have made gods of us; we could have created our own universe. but now i have to watch my hands closely so they don't destroy this one in their frenzy.

i would have written a thousand poems
on top of those armies of paragraphs.
i would have folded the world up
so we could meet day and night.

cellblock
©jack

paper doves play 
on my purple lake.
next, i shall make
blood-red swans,
tattoo a kiss 
on each wing
and flare'em up.

seven messages i wrote
seven messages i erased

sometimes i fill with an urge to speak up my mind,
to tell everyone what i really think sans the sugar coating.
naaah, nobody really gives a shit, and most souls avoid change,
so i just nod and grunt and mind my own business.

yesyes, talking is overrated while we are all lost in our own little vocabularies. 
how can i expect you to understand me while you know zilch about my definitions?

most of your problems have solutions, honey.
you might not like them, but they are solutions nevertheless.
are you tired of your own voice? just stop talking.
do you feel detached? make yourself useful.
do you feel unlovable? you are not, don't be an idiot.
are you sick of comparing yourself with others? stop caring.
do you believe you'll die alone? hang out with more people.
have you forgotten how to laugh? read a comic book.
are you feeling unworthy of attention? just give yours away, you'll realize it mostly means zilch.
do you feel disappointed all the time? try fulfilling your simple wishes.
are you too cynical? keep that, there is nothing wrong with cynicism.
do you find yourself saying "i knew it" frequently? start trusting your instincts.
are you drained because of an obsession? change your daily routine.
do you not like the city you live in? move. move as soon as possible.
do you feel unhealthy? smoke less, exercise more.
are you tired? take a nap.

most of your problems have solutions, honey. solve them, go on, don't be shy.  
solve them so you'll have the energy to bear with the unsolvable problems life throws at you.
and smile. (i beg of you.)

ps: or you can work your ass off and ignore them all.

"giving up" suggests the existence of a possibility, may it even be the remotest kind. but i never stood a chance...this is more like "coming to terms with reality."