a Moment Of Uniqueness

[momentofuniqueness]

“Poured over shadows…” an original poem

[momentofuniqueness]

TX

Looking perfect in your black dress

You lean in and whisper

“Let’s not get married yet”

And I nod in agreement

We wrestle on the dance floor there

I’m sick as a dog

We have a lifetime in each other’s arms

There’s a gulf of eternity between us

It’s in your careful rhythm

And my clumsy steps

It’s in your mouth and in your hair

It’s in the stupid, silly way I try to offend you

God blessed us tonight, didn’t he?

I’ll wake up tomorrow feeling better

But in this moment the notion is impossible to me

This is the best I’ve ever felt

Dripping from my nose

Clutching you

All the time in the world

[momentofuniqueness]

On Fumes

She cradled the razor blade between her fingers as if it was a delicate prayer she was afraid to admit,

A prayer whose answer could prove disappointing,

Knowing the task ahead of her required strict precision,

She slipped it through the skin and dragged it down,

Like she was piercing a sausage casing,

Until she was pleased with the pace in which the thick, hot oil raced from her,

It has been raining every day since,

It has been raining every day since,

It has been raining every day since,

[momentofuniqueness]

Consumption

Then the moment of ecstatic freedom came.

We recognized the length of our journey

when the stars peeked out

from their hiding places,

The page unfolded its dog-ear,

Smoothed out the crease.

What felt like the longest story ever told

Became a footnote that read:

“I was fortunate to make it out alive”

The further I get,

The more the details become blurred,

The minutiae is discarded,

I forget everything except what is real,

That’s how it feels, anyway,

I’m satisfied with this version of my story,

Concise, Accurate, Peer-reviewed,

Open to no interpretation,

Objective,

Easily forgotten.

[momentofuniqueness]

Sick

You cradle a promise,

A grenade,

Whose pin drips dangling from my practiced teeth,

Straddle me,

Force the truth from my eyes,

I’ve changed less times than I can count,

You give me the benefit of the doubt,

Like it’s Kleenex,

And I use and abuse it again and again,

Blowing mucus into the fibers,

Capturing every trace of blood,

Keeping a scrap hidden in a reliable place,

I prepare for these small, comfortable transgressions,

I need them.

I need your tissue.

I’m sick.

[momentofuniqueness]

I turned a corner low and full of shame

And happened on a woman poor and lame

She woke but failed to plea with blistered lips

Pale, alone and easily dismissed

I sought the course that many men have trod

To use the gift bestowed to us by God

I furthered down the alley to our tryst

Pale, alone and easily dismissed

But in your stead a letter had been placed

You left me aimless, barren, broke and chaste

Til death is ripe for me I won’t be kissed

Pale, alone and easily dismissed

I craned my head and noticed in the blue

A limestone path reflecting me the moon

Which shone with purpose doling out a mist

Pale, alone and easily dismissed

[tsaifilms]

Margaret (2011) Directed by Kenneth Lonergan

[davidlynch]

Barry was one of those born clever enough at gaining a fortune, but incapable of keeping one. For the qualities and energies which lead a man to achieve the first are often the very cause of his ruin in the latter case.

Barry Lyndon (1975) dir. Stanley Kubrick

[precious-silly-thing-deactivate]

A Brighter Summer Day  dir. by Edward Yang

[momentofuniqueness]

The First Sweet Thing

I kept half of a small Bundevara in the back pocket of my jeans,

Making my way home from what would be the last of several gatherings with friends,

In these monthly meetings they would talk in detail about the things that burdened them,

I never spoke except to give advice or consolation to these people,

A sort of flag I waved so my presence there wouldn’t be questioned,

But I took ownership of the collective release in the room as much as possible,

Sometimes I would search desperately for the courage to expel what was in me,

Sometimes I would comfort myself in the knowledge of my privacy,

And some even more times I would comfort myself in assuming the role of benevolent medic for my good friends,

I took the metro the rest of the way and it wasn’t until I fished the apartment key out of my main pocket that I remembered the Bundevara, now crushed flat and sticky,

And I wept like a toddler realizing for the first time that the world owes him nothing,

I was never able to hold on to sweet things for very long,

And this was the first sweet thing I had since you died,

I thought about all of the times I had dismissed you,

Banished you into the dark, forgotten corners of my back pocket,

I wiped my eyes with my shirt collar and stood over the sink, scraping out the waste

[momentofuniqueness]

Invasion

Small siren sound-waves crash against my skull

Resonating through every orifice

Pulses of warm, continuous humming

And a steady rhythm still within me

I hit the deck when the smoke arrives

Leaking in through every crack of every door

I struggle to dam what I’ve left vulnerable to invasion by a calm, slow-moving enemy force

I try to bail the liquid from my brain

Pass out on the once-cold, once-familiar tile

Let my body be a vessel for some sweet, welcome stranger

[momentofuniqueness]

It had been raining

It had been raining,

Not when I was out there,

And not anymore,

But it had been raining for some time

And the storm kept the planes from me.

I have an odd fascination,

Or perhaps a very popular fascination,

Regarding things outside of my control,

Not in overcoming these things, and by virtue of victory, becoming champion,

Or even in the attempt to overpower them,

Toiling over impossible tasks as a way of allowing the illusion of progress to ring through the conscious chambers of one’s mind,

Providing stimulation,

Just in the nature of their existence.

I look out into the overcast

Murky, murky sky, dense clouds

The terrain has somehow already dried.

The nature of helplessness can truly be

Beautiful

On days like these

[momentofuniqueness]

Lady McDonald’s

Was the hope drunk wherein I dressed myself

In your clothes

And took to the La Brea sidewalks, strutting

With Screams not far behind?

[momentofuniqueness]

Saxophone Man

The saxophone man squeaks and squeals so painfully

that the little change he does receive

for his efforts

is given out of pity,

Not admiration.

He doesn’t seem to mind.

I see him playing his guts out

on the street corner every night,

And when he’s not playing

he’s wearing the most genuine smile you’ve ever seen.

It’s a shame.

He could really be a great artist

If he didn’t suck so much.

[momentofuniqueness]

Twenty Years

One thing I’ve realized about myself in my

Twenty Years

Is that I like to lord my fake humility

Over People—

I get a real kick out of holding on to my

Private Ego

While feigning a posture of complete

Unassuming Unawareness

Making them think I don’t see how talented

I Am—

Deep down I probably do think I’m

Very Special

(I say probably because I’ve been able to

Trick Myself

With this poor man’s version of a social

Magic Act)

Basically if you’ve ever known me in my

Twenty Years

And have supported me at my

Lowest Points

And rooted for

My Success

Even when it seems as though I’ve

Given Up

I just want to say from the bottom of my heart:

Gotcha.

[momentofuniqueness]

M.A.S.H.

A childhood game revealed that I would be living in a mansion with a famous actress.

We would have 3 kids, a dragon, and I would drive to my job as a professional breather (for which I make a hefty $500,000 a day) in my smokin’ hot DeLorean time machine.

Also, in this fictional scenario I would behave exactly as I have without these things.

I would have the same impatience and longing for something to jolt my life into starting.

If I had stopped a second sooner, and had twelve dashes on my page instead of thirteen

I would be living in a shack with a hag and our pet weasel

Driving to my job as a horse manure inspector in my vintage trash can for $1 a year

And I would have the same impatience and longing

But I would be justified.

[mydarktv]

Phantom Thread // Paul Thomas Anderson