I gave a little of me to the moon

A tiny part of my being ensues

What I've gained I have got and I use

For the pictures we've framed I may lose

If there's anything left in this room

I leave for the ones who may need them

I take all I can and regret what I can't

You're the heaviest frame of them all

Reflecting the light of the spring

But the sun has gone down and I leave

One picture to show where we were

The two of us locked in so many words

I remember the way back down

From the hill that we climbed and we found

That a journey can reach its own end

By the memories torn and unwound

And the pain can bring joy of the past

So I take it with me and at last

The white of the moon has returned

May mistakes only be lessons learned

As they reflect into you on the wall

In the room I won't think of at all

My knees broke themselves away to the gentle vibrations of the two years behind us. And what I had was a footing up above on our very own soap box that we may have called a home and lived above the eye lines of those left with only a hope. Your grip on my hand was gone in that of a blink and long enough for me to lose balance in love. And as I fall I see you find another to stay for only a moment, but in that moment I am lost, as we are, as you and I loose everything that makes us. And what I have is the sad day where an instant took back everything that was, undoing all, but it is that instant that can never be undone. Funny, I would have traded everything to take it back, but everything was taken.

What we hold like ivy to bind

Not strong enough to carry

The moon and its indecision

So we fall apart in the clovers

Sweet and unsure when awake

So sleep steadily in the thorn

Darling in depths of the eve

Our steps grow together

I started to cry; people can turn black and white so easily and in a metaphor to life lose the color that made things seem in place. Knowing now that placing life into a steady something or other that is as constant as a beating heart is dangerous. Hearts break and people break them. And whether you choose to turn away in a deaf haze or follow the faint sound of a quieting heart beat, eventually the beating stops.

 Change is a corridor, and to the monochrome souls, I wanted to tell you, the colors will return.... In the first blooming rose lies the red, and from there comes the scent of something new and lovely. I believe hearts grow back in time. So I wait in an absolute belief you will bloom again, more beautiful then before.

So far, the negatives have been scratched and blurred, I've been projecting light through the polar painting and finding nothing makes it through to the final print. I could spend the better part of a sleepless night erasing memorable pleasantries with the negative energies that far exceed my belief in a perfect life, but I'd much prefer to sleep. It's a unique experience, the point when you arrive at a stand still, look around, and realize you've created a life that works, motionless, but workable. And just when you question a time for change, everything changes without you, and the people who felt as family throw you overboard.

Well I'd much rather jump ship now than sink with the fucking Titanic. Now I couldn't be more inspired to make my dreams a reality, and if I lied awake to waste my picture on that shit hole of a restaurant, than I'd never make it back home. And to the remaining souls, a word of advice, there are no life boats left, and there never were... good luck you poor bastards.

To be sat amongst the quiet boundaries so set by the tumbling skies that reign high above the diamond turned waters, is to be separated in fact from this world in itself; to run free in my dream is a gift I so often shy from. More often then not I've looked over my shoulder with cold set expressions, leaving nothing in desire or passion, only empty promises and falsities rained down from histories above, and caught unwillingly by upturned fixtures until there was nothing left but for it to overflow its own disappointments to the grounds at my feet. I was only what they made of me; jade so lovely to build idols from, jade mountains carved carelessly by those who carved carelessly into my trust and loving nature. So deeply were the convictions in which I lost hope; for my hopes had turned to footsteps; and all that was left were empty suitcases and severed ties. And there was much to be said in so many ways under so little time… I had much to say, unknown to the wings that spread eloquently with no regard for how much I wanted to care. Questioning to the bone and the heart of every lacking quality I possess, and when in fact would I be good enough to be cared about, and broken through far beyond being used, for I have oceans of depth; and all I’ve wanted was to be noticed. Not as an alter ego, but as myself, my own place in this world, when my dreams were built with emotion, and would have a place all there own. And in the day, someone might travel through they’re own will to visit them, with questions of origin, and search happily for meaning behind thoughts, smiles, and tears. Not because I’ve chased you, but because you’ve taken my hand and asked if I might stay. Though I’ve been jaded, and run from the tide, you came out in the storm with nothing more than yourself and the sun. And I can be happy this time, thankfully for you, because my legs were tired of running, and my dream under tumbling skies and diamond turned waters has a place all its own, in the world, and if I choose… The skies will rain multi-colored sprinkles for days at a time, as I watch the changes with you J

At some point I drew a line merging yet separating entertainment and intellect. On many occasion, I wouldn't dare strike the keys and build me a blog unless I had something intelligent to say. This is true, for the best ideas are made when they are ready to be written, not written to write just anything, honestly, writing is what I feed into and strengthen from in return. But the following cannot go unexpressed:

While waiting for the bus, I sat readily stationed on a cement ledge, just across the street from a strip mall and a very large animated bill board. Try as I might, there was nothing more to do then divulge advertisements from its flashing commerce. And that’s when it happened, the screen lit up... "Are you hungry?” like the clockwork of a spark, my mind answered back, "Grab a Snickers!" And that was it; I reached into the left breast pocket of my coat, and sure enough! There was a bite sized Snickers bar! Though the lit advertisement had nothing to do with the Snickers propaganda, it did help me to realize a lonely candy bar that might have easily been forgotten. So it all comes down to one synchronized gesture of mind power... Advertisements are my friends... And Snickers are delicious... Well fuck, so much for my line of intelligent separation. Can't say you should feel any smarter after reading this, I'm certain I don't.

fresh and juicy
in the missing pants
clean and crisp
two plane tickets please
straight to hell
this is Turt the turtle
turtles are specimen of god
the crispy burn of satisfaction
oh the burning in my loins
sandwich basket of love and jivey
the badger took my sandwich
mamograms for all
feel my breasts
rub them fast; clockwise machine
grab my penis; getin' more explicit
Misses Mandy is my tuter
lets go to snake road
pumpkin porno lets all dance!
quik! burn his eyes out with cigarettes!
and grab his penis
whos got the cocaine?
no really, who? who the fuck?
i bet the badger has it!
fling that shit
look at all the seeds that didnt pop
the seeds! ahhh uhahhhhhhhhhhhhh!
Dear god my roses! i so delicatley pruned them!
get the lynch'n rope ready
around these parts, buttermilk is god
buttermilk and penis
penis grows nine times its size
oh look! It shows all the peoples breasts!
aqua ants
i think my house is like, fucking haunted
quick lock the doors! the crazy woman is comin' with her perfume
hide every electric fan
have you ever considerd goin' to the culinary arts school?
why no... no i have not
but arn't you interested in learning how to fix engines
uh, not today. would you like some coffee?
i'd like to poke a bag of dead animals with a stick
dont you hate it when you get pocorn lodged in you teeth
five seconds to climax
have you ever climaxed with a police officer?
stroke the hooch, man diddy slam jam
BAM!!!

The memories indeed :) I love my Kari I do