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Dennis

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[19 Jun 2009|07:30pm]
It fabricated about six years ago
trails of old clothing still litter the ground of this old place
"time flies when your drinking wine" they say
or was it the "poetry in a bottle" routine
who knows?
contradictions seem fun at this time of night though.
Spaghetti strapped wax signals
and bell bottom brewery fires.
I'm not the minimalist you want
I'm broken fragments of loves past
and love's sure to be forgotten.
Like a mummy's last breath of air
and a tombstones remarks
"to live and let live" it said
eat my pok-a-dotted swizzle sticks
and put my beer nuts in your ear
I'm the last messiah
period.
Like when Rudolph met his nose!
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[09 Mar 2008|05:56pm]
[ mood | hopeful ]

transmissions have not failed...signals were lost momentarily.

2 comments|post comment

[27 Dec 2006|01:18pm]
I saw you over there
I winked and you took a sip
I started to walk over
You hit me with a Barracuda smile
Stopped me in my tracks
Too many teeth in that mouth
I walked over anyway
Not shy and not scared
Your lip gloss blinding in that disco ball
I traced your hose to the heels
Decided you were worth the effort
I knew you were playing the field
You called me "Baby"
I called you "blue"
A short dance and three drinks later
You were mine
Left open for business
Go ahead and lie to me
These walls were built for better than you
Wait, that is a lie
Too many have fallen on your quest
I'm not one of those
Nothing is as it was before
Heartfelt tragedies spread before me
Walk away before someone gets hurt...
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[22 Oct 2006|07:36pm]
She said,

‘Let’s drink like its suicide,
Let us get intense.
Blow away this afternoon
With mad dances, screams and strip
Down to our true selves.
I will make you come
With a shot of rhythm and reds
Watch the blood rush, feel the blood lust
Pounding waves of desire
We will sing of art and shout about pop
Slam dance, stage dive, twist and crawl
My kisses will be lethal
My tears will be laughed at
Come on
Come on
My pretty baby.’

She said,

All this
And before I could answer

She took the gun
Smiled
And pulled the trigger.
2 comments|post comment

[01 Aug 2005|06:01pm]
I find it hard to breathe when I get blocked in like this,
legs tied up and I’m caught in that place
right behind my eyes.

Tonight I speak out quietly -
telling of how yesterday, I snagged my pants
building the wire fence on the rim of my garden,

but the looks from those passing by
still hurdle fast and hard,
creeping boldly over the barricade
and straight into my chest.

'I do not feel like this I do not feel like this'

quickly becomes my mantra,
as I shift my thoughts from heavily laid heart beats
that leave dints in my skin
to the creak of the clock, crumbling the seconds away.

There is no other sound
apart from the noise my fingers make
as I try to climb into the wall,
I'm blending into the gaps of city concrete -

coruscating in the light of an old street lamp
that’s leaning slightly forward, tumbling
into the slot between the curtains

and it’s like falling from great heights -
this castigating myself, this clogging up
airways with the brick-heavy words
I hold tight in my mouth.

I spent most of today alone,
sitting underneath the windowsill
in my shoe-cluttered hallway.
I love the sound of my spine
stretching out, clapping against the wood,
and the chill off the tiled floor on these summer days -

here I fade
politely
into this turtle-toed night,

just like the way love should not

but always does.
5 comments|post comment

[14 Jul 2005|12:13pm]
Coming home this weekend, come see me and bring potatoes!


Sunday July 17th (wink wink): The Rum Diary
Desert City Soundtrack
Continental

Bottom of the Hill at 5pm $5

everyone go
4 comments|post comment

[24 Jun 2005|07:45pm]
She said
‘You are all egotists ‘
I nod and say aloud
That I agree
It is the first clear image
In a strange impenetrable day.

I told another girl
That my thoughts
Were sugar
But that was wrong.

Coffee
My thoughts
Are coffee
Bitter brilliant
Hot
Awake.

And why the fuck do I feel
Like I
Am
Falling in love?
When I cannot possibly
Be doing anything of the sort.

I feel the end of things
In the way
I run my fingers
Against the wall
Trace the shadows
Made by CD stands
And sunlight.

She made me fall
Out
Of a desperate clinging dream.

There was talk of lies and trust
As the day moved on
_I felt the coldest breeze-

I kept falling
(We could be everything
Or nothing at all)

I sing a song of
Trust
Of Death
Yeah you simple fool
I am dying
BUT SO WHAT!

It is hot in here
So I open the window to the sky.



Can only look up
I miss the people
But the clouds are somewhat calming.

Damn these butterflies
Pesky emotional fairies
Of soft tomorrows

I put on Industrial grunts
Take them off
Their kling klang kool
Seems forced to me

Perhaps
(As it should say on the instructions)
‘Only to be taken at 3am’

You lover
Should take my advice
I am so full of opinions
And words and past deeds
Look closer though
It’s a pretty basket
Full of ribbons
And broken wine glasses.

I want to write this fucking soul dry.

Someone asked,
and asked
then asked again.

Then told me
I avoided answering.
Yes I did.
Its not that
I did not understand the question
Or was afraid of what I might answer,

But
The mystery that is I
This Wednesday
This morning

Is the only thing I have.

(I am consistently being told
I don’t explain enough
Or say enough
In my dirty little poems)

So fuck it
You
You reader
You potential lover
You fellow lost soul

End this for me
In the immaculate anyway you see fit.

Just no rhymes okay

Smile.
6 comments|post comment

[10 Jun 2005|08:32pm]
I think this might be the hardest thing i'll ever have to do. Im in San Francisco now and cold as hell. Me, Jaymone, Kat and my mom came this morning to check me into my dorm and go around the city for a while. Needless to say i didnt go home with them. When we arived i check in at the main building were i met with Sam East my adviser and he gave me some words of advice while i checked in. After all of that was said in done we made our way over to sutter street to go move me into my dorm. I got here before my room mate did and we checked things out. My dorm is a really nice size and im only sharing it with one other person. The beds are small but will make due. They have a computer lab downstairs in the basement which is were im at right now and its so quiet in here its deadly. After my mom and jaymone left i got this sinking feeling in my gut that almost resulted in tears but i was in such a state of shock i just couldnt let them go. I thought if maybe i went out and about that maybe things will pick up and my room mate would get here and i would have someone to talk to maybe even make friends with but when i got back it was exactly how i left it. So i sat and read for a little while and wrote and sketched and did every other little thing you do when your bored. Then i thought to myself, im in fuckin San Francsico, i cant be bored. Then i found myself just missing everyone, so i bought some transparent tape and taped pictures of everyone on the brick wall next to my bed.

Right now im cold, lonely and a little overwhelmed but im hoping things pick up. If i can make it through the semester with good grades i would feel really proud of myself because i can already tell its going to be an experience i wont forget. I miss you all so much, i love you truly.
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[03 May 2005|04:35pm]
You, the quiet shading of my dry skin,
you were warm, like soft orange rain
with lemon sherbet words keeping me
so small and snug, in a soothing place.

There is more to me than this,
restrained in paper boxes so brittle and thin
and I scribbled your name on each lid
then smothered the insides with black hearts and lace.

My breath got caught so I shut myself in,
I have too much love, littering the world,
it diminishes into air, it loosens each limb,
now these bitter bones can never be free.

I fritter away with thoughts so dim,
doing the right thing, such a lonely place to be.
1 comment|post comment

[26 Apr 2005|05:21pm]
I am a systemic anomaly
And you are pleasantly arrogant.

To you the sky is iron
And the stars are your magnets.
And everyday I look up and I see a few
more new words etched into it
and they fall freely upon the Earth
Like a toxic rain.

I spilled love into the ocean
and stained it blood red-
but you're colorblind.

I cracked open the sun and
spilled its rays into your drink at that party-
but you have high tolerance.

With you I just can't win, so I'll stop trying.
Don't know if you're there, signals went static
a long time ago.

There's a peice of the universe dancing behind my eyes
and you put it there.

Couldn't even return the favor because
the sky has a negative charge...



...and so do the stars.
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[27 Mar 2005|01:21am]
Awaken to find the world…
Just the way it was left.
Watching the light at the edges
Grow steadily brighter

Time continuing to press forward
Despite adamant pleadings to cease
Just one more moment
To let some sad melody
Pass on through; Pass on by.

Never knowing what will come
When the door is opened
And the world is allowed inside.
So the waiting game continues
As all manner of thoughts are entertained

All the while half believing
That God might grant just one request
If it’s sincere and is repeated enough.
Maybe His answer lies in the dreams
That a heavy mind has at night.

What if the night never ended?
What if the world would stop on command?
Would living in the same moment
For however long was desired,
Bring the seeker any closer to the goal?

Maybe it’s just impatience speaking…
The days aren’t going by fast enough
To be satisfyingly revealing.
Or maybe it’s just boredom,
A simple longing for something to do.

Sunrise.
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[21 Mar 2005|12:21pm]
I cant believe it, the verdict is in:

%75 scholarship for my first semester.

all i can say is wow and thank you.
4 comments|post comment

[15 Mar 2005|04:24pm]
Jaymone, Braden & Janae, Alex, Travis, Kyle, Kai, Jason L., Meghan, Nin, Dick, Tim, Andi, Samantha, Christina, Chris, Korin, Tara, Meghan M.,Andrew, Kebo, Frank, Shannon, Katie, Liz, Katherine, Caitlyn, Mr. Ashman, Michael, and all my other friends: I just wanted to thank you all so much. It has been a rough ride the past couple months with getting ready for school, my DUI accident, home and myself but it seems to all be ok. I know im in for rougher times but thats understandable. I got a call today from my Admissions Rep. Sam East from the Academy telling my he recieved the portfolio of my work i sent to him. He didnt have to call me but he did and it was a very uplifting conversation. He called to just tell me he loved my work. He said the poem i wrote to go along with my photography really hit home and that my pictures were beautiful. He said i was really going to make a name for myself at that school and that he wants me there asap to begin. When things like that happen i always can tell when someone is being sincere or not and you can tell in his voice that he ment it. I just wanted to share my excitment with all of you, well because this wouldnt have happened if it wasnt for all of you. You are my motivation, inspiration and all the other good tion's in the dictionary. Well thanks again and i'll leave you with a quote from Hunter S. Thompson: "buy the ticket...Take the ride"
7 comments|post comment

[04 Mar 2005|02:59pm]
Jumbled harsh like a Husker Du song
My morning starts frazzled and screeching
Scratching violent on tightly wound emotions
I find myself
Suddenly,
Unexpectedly,
In Love.

I hate this intrusion.
This new addiction.

Overdose on coffee and window writing,
(Its warm in here)
I scrawl a name
Again.
Again.
Watch it abstract itself amongst the raindrops
Outside like my common sense.

I think explosions that have not been set off.
I ponder advances never started.
I want
I don’t want
To want this desire.

Switch on Porn and click my fingers
To artificial gasps of safe far away sex.
Not distracted I think of how
My fingers
Could
Run the length
Of an arm
And how they
Would beat
out a slow
Unmistakable rhythm
In common code.

Found out!
Revealed
‘Fuck it’ I shout
‘What happened?
What happened?
To the invisible girl.’

So I gulp and I walk into a crowd
And I make myself heard
By asking loudly,
'Are my shorts too short for winter?'
‘Am I insane?’
I sigh;
And fall beautifully into a chair.

I carry on this bitter pose with this huge grin
Make eye contact:
Then ask to be
Followed down..

You have seen that smile before
The devil wore it
When she advertised
The must have sensation
Of the pretty fruit.

And yet
And still
(This is the real end of me)
In all this chaos,
Every diversion fails.

Still
I think of

You posing for the camera
Head slightly down,
Eyes focused on
The way I am not moving
The way that you have stopped me moving
The way I will always be
There in front of you
And you
In front of me.
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[20 Feb 2005|01:34am]
[ mood | contemplative ]
[ music | Harold and Maude - DVD ]

I guess i could be excited, i have the rest of my life to live, i'll be leaving for the city soon, i have the most understandable and heart warming friends a person can have, i have a family that cares and love me unconditionally, but something is still off balance it seems like. I think it may be the way i see myslef or the way i deal with things. I have a tendancy to just brush things off. Thoughts, Feelings, Ideas, all just get brushed off. I have so many things to be inspired by but there is an emptiness that is unexplainable. Sometimes i think its the fallout i had with the idea of the world being a beautiful place. Sometimes i think its the valley but thats a cop out a scapegoat and a muse. I even sometimes think its because i deserve better and my friends deserve better but thats just me being downright selfish. Whatever though, just like all the other thoughts and feelings it will just be brushed aside and i'll continue. For these very brief moments though it haunts me and leaves me to ponder and all that comes out is a rant and a poor way of compilling words together to try to explain it to a small audience of people with their own problems and own worries. So with that all kind of said i'll leave you to your own.

2 comments|post comment

[19 Feb 2005|06:01pm]
Dennispalooza:

Im supposed to update this to let you all know that there is going to be a big party out at Andrew and Kebo's pad on Friday the 25th, they want everyone to spread the word. I really want all my friends there. Any questions call me 209-606-1835. They promise it will be the best party you'll ever go to.
4 comments|post comment

[18 Dec 2004|04:02pm]
Red lights and the skyline approaching under flashing headlamps and streetlights, La Mer pumping through your veins. She awaits on the other end of this road, the highway that is made of minutes and seconds and time spent in the travel. Comet faces go past blurred and unnoticed. Your face against a cool pillow, breathing a little faster each time you hear a car pass. My foot tapping to bassline in impatience in anticipation in fear in love in boredom in excitement. I blink and see you in your room. Now you're laying down. Now you're looking out the window. Now you're pacing. Last time we met was brief, too brief for all our words to express ourselves, too brief for all our lust to get itself out. Every moment that passed between us burns bright and forever in the memory that dulls around it, leaving only the recollection of heat and light and yeah there probably was something else around it. Seafood and red hats, and a sleeping bag and you and me in the backseat for hours. Always the end looming ahead, always the idea that this would be it.

And it was.

I am dreaming

returning to you

and maybe you raped me a little

and maybe I can't forget you a little

and maybe you saved my life a little

and maybe you killed me a little

and maybe

maybe

always maybe

one more day will come

and we'll be alive again
3 comments|post comment

[02 Dec 2004|12:23pm]
There is this silence
where I put my hand to your lips,
and the liquid lies and powdered love
burning by the spoonful
came to an
e n d

With the words turning
on our victrola, [s]pinning endlessly, [listlessly]
with scar[r]ed childhoods
and charged moments of pseudo-sensuality with[out] t o u c h
without ever declaring w a n t
as much as l o v e,
in your remembered past of poetry, dripping off tongues
into the [s]pace where her thighs met,
and mine of regretted firsts of smaller scales and les[ser] women
and something overflowed, while we tried with hands and fingers
to hold these things in, that kept spilling out
while more was said in these 2 am phonecalls
than we could have imagined
with beginnings, birthed from longing for a girl
and endings, a distorted reflection of iron[y].

November has never been a month for beginnings
and here, in the
m i d d l e
of the warmth and the chill
as the reddening seep of nature moved through
with heaving breaths, before the sudden cold,
something changed
from
l.o.v.e to i.n.d.i.f.f.e.r.e.n.c.e
and our semblance of together,
with each [our] and [us]
faded, fell from branches, cracked
smaller under [our] footsteps
than it should have been.

Confined to the backseat of your black car
we should have kept our eyes on the tarmac,
cause they told us - follow the dotted line,
but as night fell, [t]ripped, stumbled into itself
we lost our way,
looking into each other
holding onto hands, and your lower lip, and anything within reach
and felt more than the collision
of metal into wood and tar roads or cobblestone streets
[c]rushing into skin.

[we felt the end]

And now
we're left looking at the [s]tar[s],
cause that's what we've always done best,
while cities bow their heads and a woman sings
in the distance
about hesitation and regrets and how things never change
no matter how far you run,
or stand on the tips of your toes, reaching up higher
than you thought was possible.

[but it was never enough]

There are remnants everywhere
[in t-shirts and European TV and the films that you love(d)]
and I can't stop thinking
while you mix drinks in the shadows
sketching a future in your mind,
and as the camera rolls -
you look beautiful in this distance

and
now

I can miss you without telling you
[I thought you would have fought h a r d e r]
I'll remember the time in Paris, always.
4 comments|post comment

[23 Nov 2004|08:02pm]
[ mood | angry, hopefull ]

nobody we know owns anything
many of us will never own anything at all
we're tired of feeling bewildered
tired of helplessness
we want many, many things to end soon
these times, when everything is denied us
anything is possible
but everyday stubborn, clumsy, beautiful ideas
drop on the withering vine
we're tired of this state of affairs
we call to end paranoia, self-intimidation and fear
meanwhile, the world spins
as if nothing has happened at all
we're all still waiting
I dedicate this to everyone who couldn't afford
the thirty dollar price tag!
I dedicate my life to quiet refusals
loud refusals and sad refusals
I dedicate it to the imminent market collapse
I dedicate it to carpenters
waitresses and drug addicts
I dedicate it to secretaries, alcoholics and schizophrenics
I dedicate this to girls kissing girls
boys kissing boys
girls kissing boys
and everything in between!
the future is bleak, uncertain, beautiful
tommorrow they might come and arrest us all
only if you listen closely can you hear the machines
beneath the sidewalk whipsering
the machines beneath the sidewalk are
always whispering
strive to listen close
please, try to be free
don't be afraid
the end of the world will never come

2 comments|post comment

[22 Nov 2004|05:19pm]
I can tell you where it hurts
And show you every button to push
But our yesterdays aren’t old anymore;
No, yesterday just isn’t as old anymore.
Yesterday is the tomorrow we’ll choke to endure.
They have our depression on play.

Defected children full of hate
With torn collars at Sunday’s mass.
But our reasons aren’t adequate anymore;
No, this reason doesn’t do justice anymore.
Yesterday is the leper with incurable sores.
They have our regression on play.

Reserve a name from yesterday.
Rewind a memory on chalk display.
Drown in the taste of asthmatic dust
That vise grip our eyes and irritate us.
Don’t lose your number despite its height.
Remembering can be lovely if someone cries tonight.
Shunning delinquents we choose to be;
A repeat in yesterday is the rebirth of me.

I can tell you where it hurts
And show you which buttons to push
But our yesterdays aren’t old anymore;
No, yesterday isn’t forgotten anymore.
Yesterday is the tomorrow we lust to conform.
With our depression on replay,
Our fingertips stay white.
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