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| Not really much of a return.
Just to say a couple things:
1) Xanga has changed. A LOT.
2) I feel awkward.
3) Anyone seeking recent updates is encouraged to read my latest facebook note and/or my Blogger. Link to the Blogger available on facebook.
4) I'll try to keep this one up and running just to have something to look back on.
5) Ayaz- Keep up the poetry. Perhaps get a Blogger though? | | |
| He killed 'em with they love.
Thats how it is...
All over the world.
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| I'm in Los Angeles today
It smells like an airport runway
Jet fuel stenches in the cabin
And lights flickering at random
I'm in Los Angeles today
Garbage cans comprise the medians
Of freeways always creeping
Even when the population's sleeping
And I can't see why you'd want to live here
I'm in Los Angeles today
Asked a gas station employee
If he ever had trouble breathing
And he said, "It varies from season to season, kid"
It's where our best are on display
Motion picture actors' houses
Maps are never ever current
So save your film and 15 dollars
And I can't see why you'd want to live here
Billboards reach past the tallest buildings
"We are not perfect, but we sure try"
As UV rays degradate our youth with time
The vessel keeps pumping us through this entropic place
In the belly of the beast that is California
I drank from a faucet and I kept my receipts
For when they weigh me on my way out
(Here nothing is free)
The greyhounds keep coming, dumping locusts into the street
Until the gutters overflow and Los Angeles thinks
"I might explode someday soon"
It's a lovely summer's day
And I can almost see a skyline
Through a thickening shroud of egos
(Is this the city of angels or demons?)
Here the names are what remain
Stars encapsulate the gold lane
And they need constant cleaning
For when the tourists begin salivating
You can't swim in a town this shallow
You will most assuredly drown tomorrow
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| "Sonnet XVII" by Pablo Neruda
I don't love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
I love you as certain dark things are loved,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that doesn't bloom and carries
hidden within itself the light of those flowers,
and thanks to your love, darkly in my body
lives the dense fragrance that rises from the earth.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you simply, without problems or pride:
I love you in this way because I don't know any other way of loving
but this, in which there is no I or you,
so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand,
so intimate that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close.
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| How long can a car push it before it runs out of gas?
How long can a mouse run on its wheel before it dies?
How long can a computer process information before it gives way?
How long can a dynamo power something before it just fails?
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Not that long...
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