Why I Am Not A Painter

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a pile of mostly raw and probably bad poetry

            on the internet
            in the hopes of creating something better

            This blog is not CLEAN and is not meant to be.
            Useful critique appreciated, i.e. specific comments and suggestions.

            You need not identify yourself unless you want to;
            comments will be judged on value, not the source. (Although knowing the source can be useful.)
            Unsupported heckling OR praise are not appreciated.

            Also, I vaguely apologize if you're my friend and you see yourself or others we know here.
            I am aware that that can be unsettling
            but that's the risk you run being friends with a writer. Also,
            maybe you're just being paranoid. Also,
            there is never a clear picture of reality

untitled, incomplete?

The first time I tried

telekinesis, I held up

an iceberg for you, old man

and the sea be damned -- we

could see it all. They get it wrong

in these chronicles; holding objects with

one's mind hurts, strains like any

muscle in the back: my head is

bulging with effort like a babe's,

this wheelchair is nothing

but neck support. I am exceptionally

strong, yet

I hold icebergs, and

they are cold, and

they are heavy

Labels: marvel

posted by Emilie # 10:35 AM 0 comments

can you be anything / but weapon x

it's like she gave you a cream. you can't

fall back into that warm bath sleep you saw

inches in front of your eyelids. you're awake

now and will always be

awake, the metal bonded to your bones

itching under the skin. what is relaxation?

at some time the world is ending - there is nothing

to do but kill.

if only sinking were as simple

as drowning. smoke all you like, the lung

will heal after a few days and pain.

drive a motorcycle: it saves

words and exposition. what is pain?

i've been there. I'll take speed, I'll risk

it since it is small.

it was like she was

a balm, a dream...you can't

sleep for fear of the nightmare

where you stab her in your sleep

Labels: marvel

posted by Emilie # 10:35 AM 0 comments

is knowing familiar?

I listen for hours to

how to do everything, I know

little about why we're asking

why are IKEA items named

what IKEA items are named

In our daily conversation he's not

sure if this situation (also known as

life) is doable on these terms (see: money,

fulfillment, career). I don't know

how to do anything (ie, I answer

questions which are not being

asked). why are IKEA items named

what IKEA items are named? if we go

and see these towns named like office

furniture - will we recognize them?

posted by Emilie # 10:35 AM 0 comments

TARDIS

he comes with instructions

but a lot of pages, instructions

but many languages, and pieces

easily identified but difficult

to manipulate with these earth

tools. is this how we put it

together? I ask him, holding

what might be a whole. It hinges,

it opens, it closes, its panels

hold bigger things than I can hold

posted by Emilie # 10:34 AM 0 comments

Why I Am Not A Painter

untitled, incomplete?

can you be anything / but weapon x

is knowing familiar?

TARDIS

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