i just got a message on myspace from someone that i was once very close to. it was very sweet. lord knows i needed that right about now. i'm not sure if the last post was the reason or just a coincidence. whichever it is, thank you.
Imk2's Journal
My Podcast Link
12/04/2007 21:26 #42395
i wish the brakes on my car would fail12/04/2007 00:36 #42389
burdenThis one is mine. i must admit it is terribly long. you don't have to bother reading it all, or at all. but it would be nice.
How can I illuminate the faded spark within you?
The task scares me to near death
Wish I could slip my hands inside your chest and rip apart the rooted scars
Your clumsy dance with life has left you with quite the injuries
Were you paying close attention during her brutal lessons?
Has she taught you anything worth knowing?
How far will we track before one steers off course?
I fear, someday, you will tearfully shift your eyes away when asked about this love and what remains of it
Or perhaps, lying still and motionless, you'll yearn for passion, reflecting how it once came so freely and generously
Quiet down now...I know things
No need for brutal honesty here my friend
Because I know the discomfort and uncertainty your words can bring about
They torment me without warning
And make my hands shake and my blood thin
I should have ran, I still whisper
But lessons learned late can still be lessons learned
I envision your evolution within me
And often play with infinity as it molds your existence into mine
I let it gently unfold
This is how I can protect you from your enemies, your self
I don't know your demons, we are not that close
I've only seen them on the rare occasions when you've looked the other way and forgot I was watching
And I fear that, as you approach, they'll engulf me as well
But somehow I want to carry that burden
Unsure of whether I now have a choice
I suppose I could blindly hurry forward, head down, without glances, so as to not acknowledge their sinister presence
But I don't know where to then discard their unbearable load!
Thoughts, of shivering aloneness on concrete floors form
Wishing I had never locked hearts with you
Look here, I found these pages crumpled at your feet
They are the endings you wish you could have written, for all your other loves
But you've never been taught their baffling tongue
So chapters were written for you and endings eventually discarded
And so, you remained passively cornered
How have you survived the self exile?
Holding your breath? Shifting your eyes? Sobbing inward? Sneering outward?
You stand engulfed by a stench so few can stand,
I watch as you sit at the edge of this swamp, hoping your innards spill forward, washing away the rot
Don't you have something to dispose of?
You must have the strength to drown it with your own bare hands
It has run its final course
And mangled you long enough
All the while throwing you nothing but tears as scraps
It is now time to say a quiet goodbye, exchange a quick kiss, and pry the claws out of your chest
I warn you; avoid its pleading glare at all cost
Do not forget how you've been fooled before
I cringe when faced with the thoughts of us becoming the mediocre and the insignificant, as our beginning comes to an end
Will we remain within this embrace while planting kisses on foreheads once the anticipation and lust begins to slip through our fingers?
I am worried
Because I see toxic potential in you,
The potential to be ruthless with idealisms and ideologies
Which are ALWAYS only successful at someone else's expense
Nevertheless,
my thoughts have dressed you in satin ribbons and bows and balloons,
like a solitary birthday gift awaiting its anticipated revelation
But I know that celebrations don't last forever
The uninvited hold grudges and others overstay their welcome, all the while someone is painfully vomiting some horrid bullshit they've been fed
I know eventually everyone flees
And I am left with only a cold and dirty mop in hand
It is then that I try to seek comfort beneath my flesh
Right where I've planted you to grow
Hoping you haven't left too
Will reality find only remnants of your warmth drifting through hollow canyons haphazardly carved by our misguided expectations?
Too late to flee, I suppose
My ankles have been severed by my eagerness
The fog of uncertainty has crept up within my throat
Yet, I don't want a promise for my future
That would shatter all that remains whole
My hope is not to foresee but to forgo
Just remember, my dear lover
That as you entertain your dark fiend,
And your days and nights fade into one another,
Rest will become nonexistent and peace will certainly abandon you
Please
Grasp the jaws of the monstrosities that are feasting on you
I can see how their voracious appetites have nearly devoured you
Yet, you plead; they are so precious to you
You stroke them so gently
Caress their silky hair
And insert them beneath your bruised skin
You must,
When you gaze at your distorted image in the muddy water,
Realize,
They do not define you
Please
Shift your eyes from that convoluted mirror and listen to these hurried words
I worry
Lost on your winding path, I try to keep pace with the blind man I met along the way
If he could only see his resemblance to your angelic face
But he knows how blessed he is
Ignorance IS bliss
And so he sends his deepest regards
I now know that I can't run through darkness while my soul is searing with your burning image
And still, I cannot escape my acidic thoughts of uncertainty
In the end, I hope and plead that the our sweetness does not fade into a bitter concoction of apathy as comfort takes its proper seat
I pray that your demons become nothing more than distant acquaintances, rarely invited, but tolerated and contained, unable to molest the good I want you to know
Nevertheless, the question remains
Once this crusade ends,
And all that could be said is said
And all that would be done is done
I wonder
Who will remain to carry MY heavy burden?
When I cannot lift, carry or hold
When even the strength to write you these poems eventually escapes me?
How can I illuminate the faded spark within you?
The task scares me to near death
Wish I could slip my hands inside your chest and rip apart the rooted scars
Your clumsy dance with life has left you with quite the injuries
Were you paying close attention during her brutal lessons?
Has she taught you anything worth knowing?
How far will we track before one steers off course?
I fear, someday, you will tearfully shift your eyes away when asked about this love and what remains of it
Or perhaps, lying still and motionless, you'll yearn for passion, reflecting how it once came so freely and generously
Quiet down now...I know things
No need for brutal honesty here my friend
Because I know the discomfort and uncertainty your words can bring about
They torment me without warning
And make my hands shake and my blood thin
I should have ran, I still whisper
But lessons learned late can still be lessons learned
I envision your evolution within me
And often play with infinity as it molds your existence into mine
I let it gently unfold
This is how I can protect you from your enemies, your self
I don't know your demons, we are not that close
I've only seen them on the rare occasions when you've looked the other way and forgot I was watching
And I fear that, as you approach, they'll engulf me as well
But somehow I want to carry that burden
Unsure of whether I now have a choice
I suppose I could blindly hurry forward, head down, without glances, so as to not acknowledge their sinister presence
But I don't know where to then discard their unbearable load!
Thoughts, of shivering aloneness on concrete floors form
Wishing I had never locked hearts with you
Look here, I found these pages crumpled at your feet
They are the endings you wish you could have written, for all your other loves
But you've never been taught their baffling tongue
So chapters were written for you and endings eventually discarded
And so, you remained passively cornered
How have you survived the self exile?
Holding your breath? Shifting your eyes? Sobbing inward? Sneering outward?
You stand engulfed by a stench so few can stand,
I watch as you sit at the edge of this swamp, hoping your innards spill forward, washing away the rot
Don't you have something to dispose of?
You must have the strength to drown it with your own bare hands
It has run its final course
And mangled you long enough
All the while throwing you nothing but tears as scraps
It is now time to say a quiet goodbye, exchange a quick kiss, and pry the claws out of your chest
I warn you; avoid its pleading glare at all cost
Do not forget how you've been fooled before
I cringe when faced with the thoughts of us becoming the mediocre and the insignificant, as our beginning comes to an end
Will we remain within this embrace while planting kisses on foreheads once the anticipation and lust begins to slip through our fingers?
I am worried
Because I see toxic potential in you,
The potential to be ruthless with idealisms and ideologies
Which are ALWAYS only successful at someone else's expense
Nevertheless,
my thoughts have dressed you in satin ribbons and bows and balloons,
like a solitary birthday gift awaiting its anticipated revelation
But I know that celebrations don't last forever
The uninvited hold grudges and others overstay their welcome, all the while someone is painfully vomiting some horrid bullshit they've been fed
I know eventually everyone flees
And I am left with only a cold and dirty mop in hand
It is then that I try to seek comfort beneath my flesh
Right where I've planted you to grow
Hoping you haven't left too
Will reality find only remnants of your warmth drifting through hollow canyons haphazardly carved by our misguided expectations?
Too late to flee, I suppose
My ankles have been severed by my eagerness
The fog of uncertainty has crept up within my throat
Yet, I don't want a promise for my future
That would shatter all that remains whole
My hope is not to foresee but to forgo
Just remember, my dear lover
That as you entertain your dark fiend,
And your days and nights fade into one another,
Rest will become nonexistent and peace will certainly abandon you
Please
Grasp the jaws of the monstrosities that are feasting on you
I can see how their voracious appetites have nearly devoured you
Yet, you plead; they are so precious to you
You stroke them so gently
Caress their silky hair
And insert them beneath your bruised skin
You must,
When you gaze at your distorted image in the muddy water,
Realize,
They do not define you
Please
Shift your eyes from that convoluted mirror and listen to these hurried words
I worry
Lost on your winding path, I try to keep pace with the blind man I met along the way
If he could only see his resemblance to your angelic face
But he knows how blessed he is
Ignorance IS bliss
And so he sends his deepest regards
I now know that I can't run through darkness while my soul is searing with your burning image
And still, I cannot escape my acidic thoughts of uncertainty
In the end, I hope and plead that the our sweetness does not fade into a bitter concoction of apathy as comfort takes its proper seat
I pray that your demons become nothing more than distant acquaintances, rarely invited, but tolerated and contained, unable to molest the good I want you to know
Nevertheless, the question remains
Once this crusade ends,
And all that could be said is said
And all that would be done is done
I wonder
Who will remain to carry MY heavy burden?
When I cannot lift, carry or hold
When even the strength to write you these poems eventually escapes me?
libertad - 12/04/07 14:22
It's really good. You and your family are very talented. I'm sure it sounds great when you read it.
It's really good. You and your family are very talented. I'm sure it sounds great when you read it.
imk2 - 12/04/07 14:00
you know, i was trying to figure this out, jenks, but then i couldn't find it. so i don't remember. but if you think it sounds familiar, i may have.
you know, i was trying to figure this out, jenks, but then i couldn't find it. so i don't remember. but if you think it sounds familiar, i may have.
jenks - 12/04/07 13:55
This sounds familiar, have you posted it before?
This sounds familiar, have you posted it before?
museumchick - 12/04/07 13:12
I like it too. Its really powerful.
I like it too. Its really powerful.
mrmike - 12/04/07 06:33
I like it
I like it
11/29/2007 22:35 #42334
i shall not carei used to be obsessed with dead poets, especially ones who've killed themselves. i think my favorite was sara teasdale.
I Shall Not Care
When I am dead and over me bright April
Shakes out her rain-drenched hair,
Though you shall lean above me broken-hearted,
I shall not care.
I shall have peace, as leafy trees are peaceful
When rain bends down the bough;
And I shall be more silent and cold-hearted
Than you are now.
Sara Teasdale
I Shall Not Care
When I am dead and over me bright April
Shakes out her rain-drenched hair,
Though you shall lean above me broken-hearted,
I shall not care.
I shall have peace, as leafy trees are peaceful
When rain bends down the bough;
And I shall be more silent and cold-hearted
Than you are now.
Sara Teasdale
james - 11/30/07 22:48
My current favorite living poet aside from John Ashbery is SUsan Musgrave. I think you might like her. She hasn't killed herself obviously, but her husband is a bank robber in prison!
The Moment
The legless man in the motel room next to me
listens to country and western music
all night, an endless son
about going down on his knees
for some faithless woman's love.
I turn in my bed, thinking of you the day
we thought our daughter had gone
missing. The moment
before she disappeared you'd seen a stranger
on the block, the kind who wore
a stained suit from Sally Ann, the kind
who couldn't know innocence
existed. Our daughter was supposed to be
next door, playing in the fenced yard
with two neighbor boys. You'd been
on the phone and I'd turned my back
on the moment to do something
predictable - move the garden sprinkler,
open the morning mail - acts
that would never again seem so ordinary
once we'd made up our minds
between burial or cremation. Your body
had never felt so alive as you took off
in the car, driving down
every back lane, listening for her
glove-muffled cries. You drove
deeper and deeper into the kind of hell
we reserve for ourselves and never want
our children to have to know. You knew
at this moment she could only be suffering
in the hands of that stranger who would afterwards
stuff her trusting body into a single forest
green Glad bag, then tote her to the park.
They would find her legs first, dangling
from the swing, shoes on the wrong feet
as usual, arms hanging from the jungle
gym. I'd want to touch, to straighten
her turned-in toes: how clumsily
we lived on this earth!
She was lost only for a moment, locked
in a spare bedroom with the two boys
next door, not wanting her privacy interrupted,
but in that moment when she was gone
forever, death in all his beautiful variety
sang to us, off-key and aching
inside our cheating hearts.
My current favorite living poet aside from John Ashbery is SUsan Musgrave. I think you might like her. She hasn't killed herself obviously, but her husband is a bank robber in prison!
The Moment
The legless man in the motel room next to me
listens to country and western music
all night, an endless son
about going down on his knees
for some faithless woman's love.
I turn in my bed, thinking of you the day
we thought our daughter had gone
missing. The moment
before she disappeared you'd seen a stranger
on the block, the kind who wore
a stained suit from Sally Ann, the kind
who couldn't know innocence
existed. Our daughter was supposed to be
next door, playing in the fenced yard
with two neighbor boys. You'd been
on the phone and I'd turned my back
on the moment to do something
predictable - move the garden sprinkler,
open the morning mail - acts
that would never again seem so ordinary
once we'd made up our minds
between burial or cremation. Your body
had never felt so alive as you took off
in the car, driving down
every back lane, listening for her
glove-muffled cries. You drove
deeper and deeper into the kind of hell
we reserve for ourselves and never want
our children to have to know. You knew
at this moment she could only be suffering
in the hands of that stranger who would afterwards
stuff her trusting body into a single forest
green Glad bag, then tote her to the park.
They would find her legs first, dangling
from the swing, shoes on the wrong feet
as usual, arms hanging from the jungle
gym. I'd want to touch, to straighten
her turned-in toes: how clumsily
we lived on this earth!
She was lost only for a moment, locked
in a spare bedroom with the two boys
next door, not wanting her privacy interrupted,
but in that moment when she was gone
forever, death in all his beautiful variety
sang to us, off-key and aching
inside our cheating hearts.
mrmike - 11/30/07 16:13
Beautiful even in its darkness. Her name sounds familar.
Tempted to go carrousing through Talking Leaves in search of more verse.
Beautiful even in its darkness. Her name sounds familar.
Tempted to go carrousing through Talking Leaves in search of more verse.
museumchick - 11/30/07 13:57
I really like that poem. I have never heard of her, but I would like to check out some of her other poems.
I really like that poem. I have never heard of her, but I would like to check out some of her other poems.
11/29/2007 10:49 #42328
secret santa reminderthere are still many of you who have not responded to the secret santa extravaganza!
this is a second plead for you to join in the merriment. i guarantee it is a load of fun. ask all of the participants from last year. even if you're not going to the party, it is still nice to get a present in the mail.
if i don't hear from you, i will start pestering you through email and may eventually stalk you and leave you orgasmic phone messages.
this is a second plead for you to join in the merriment. i guarantee it is a load of fun. ask all of the participants from last year. even if you're not going to the party, it is still nice to get a present in the mail.
if i don't hear from you, i will start pestering you through email and may eventually stalk you and leave you orgasmic phone messages.
libertad - 11/29/07 18:14
Ok I think I found the answer. Paul said in your other journal that it was going to be a New Year's party. Now i just realized that I'm going to be stuck working...crap. Stupid New Year's resolutions! Anyways, I'll participate.
Ok I think I found the answer. Paul said in your other journal that it was going to be a New Year's party. Now i just realized that I'm going to be stuck working...crap. Stupid New Year's resolutions! Anyways, I'll participate.
libertad - 11/29/07 18:10
When is this holiday party that the gifts are being exchanged? I might not do it now depending on when it is. If it is sometime after xmas I'm in, but if it's before I gotta bail.
When is this holiday party that the gifts are being exchanged? I might not do it now depending on when it is. If it is sometime after xmas I'm in, but if it's before I gotta bail.
mike - 11/29/07 17:51
i'm in
i'm in
drew - 11/29/07 15:38
I'm in.
I'm in.
imk2 - 11/29/07 14:43
last year it was around $20. some people went over, but it was not required nor expected.
last year it was around $20. some people went over, but it was not required nor expected.
drew - 11/29/07 12:13
Are there price guidelines for this exchange?
Are there price guidelines for this exchange?
mrmike - 11/29/07 10:55
I'm in, but does that necessarily rule out getting an orgasmic phone message?
I'm in, but does that necessarily rule out getting an orgasmic phone message?
So I'm a little bit behind, not sure what is going on but I hope it gets better. I didn't even know you had a myspace page.
Hang in there.
Don't stay down too long, Imk. Eventually, being upset becomes too tiring to deal with, and most problems never mean the end of the world anyway. Whatever it is, take care.
Hang in there
Sorry thing are so tough. Hang on.
I remember when mine failed, I threw it into park and wished for the best. Thankfully I was only rolling off the ramps.