#oct.2015

[the-lions-refuse]

It Started Raining Last Night And Only Just Stopped.

My family carved their Pumpkins nine days ago.

They’ve all rotted now.

Some decisions are not Bad decisions, they just Should have waited longer.

Fireworks were bad decisions. A three second explosion, Which led to more deaths Than it ever did actual solutions.

What if guns shot flowers, Instead of bullets? I could press the barrel to The sky, and adorn My head in a crown of ‘Mums. There would be no Hesitations, no trigger anxiety.

I might finally feel beautiful.

But they don’t. It’s all brass and Lead and alloy; intended for Penetration; intended for depth.

So we’ll embrace the sky, Make love to the earth; Wrap ourselves in Cellophane coffins and Shrink-wrap caskets; Dip ourselves in Yellow paint:

Are we beautiful now?

I saw a flower, Covered in flowers, Sitting in glow, Awash in grace.

Vincent would have cried, But he’s not here anymore. He left.

He left because our Guns cannot shoot Flowers.

But we can still be beautiful.

Some decisions are

Not bad decisions.

Some decisions are.

[the-lions-refuse]

On Flying, Or At Least The Fear Of It.

I think I just wanted something to believe in. I decided to make that myself, But the notion is far more intimidating Than I anticipated.

I took a shot in the dark, Leveled my arm and squeezed the trigger.

My ears are still ringing from the release.

I didn’t realize how damaging the firing can be. Everyone focuses on the bullet; The piercing, the tearing, the exit wound.

I didn’t foresee the aftershock, the recoil.

I cut my teeth on grass blades and pine Needles; my palms on dirt and gravel; I have spent too much of my life Run, Run, Running, Stumbling on the dreams and hopes I never knew quite how to wish into being.

And now I think of her standing across the room And the only thing I feel racing is my pulse. The idea of trying to talk only trips me up again.

One more dream, one more hope, One more ounce of courage is all I need.

I think I just want something to believe in. I think I just want it to be me.

[the-lions-refuse]

It Turns Out The Title I Originally Had For This Piece Didn’t Fit, So I Wrote This Instead.

Two of my favorite people have now Been directly responsible for acts of Infidelity: One, the adulteress, The other a mistress.

I don’t care about the legality behind Marriage and separation, all I know is that both Marriages are in the early stages of divorce.

Fuck society’s morality and Whether it’s right or wrong. I only care about their happiness.

Crissy and Hannah dropped out of our class. They were enrolled through their High school’s “Fact Track” program, And preferred to focus on the grades That affect their ability to graduate.

I miss them already. The class seems Slightly less without them. I just hope that they’re successful In their endeavors. I only care about their happiness.

I find my mind circling around two; One is still completely consumed by The hatred her ex-lover has inspired in her. The other is gifted grapes and suns By someone who is simply not me. I don’t understand how my Body Spirit Brain Soul Can simultaneously miss them both so Equally. Love them so completely.

So, Absolute. So, Always.

I don’t find myself hurting as much Over their absence; either one. I only care about their happiness.

God I just hope that they truly find it.

I don’t know why I’m writing this down. I don’t see the reason Behind this particular point Of transparency.

I don’t know why I don’t know “why”; I just know that I don’t.

[the-lions-refuse]

That Steeple On The Church Is Grey, So It’s Impossible To See With These Clouds.

October brought with it a cold spike. Now everyone you meet wants to make some Comment on the weather.

They clamber from their SUV’s, Tagged with various stickers Indicating the size and hobbies of Each family member, Grasping the hands of their children; Hoping to keep them safe from harm.

I ponder the futility of this.

I hear the empty conversation, And I could not care less about The forethought they lacked in Leaving their jackets at home.

I ponder their troubles, Their concerns; The things they would never tell A stranger.

The mother that drops Her children off with their Step-mom; why did your marriage fail?

Was there a definitive moment when You realized you didn’t love him Anymore? Did it take you by surprise?

How long before the couple at the Table across the way break up? They can’t even look each other in the Eyes anymore.

There’s a cemetery behind the church. How many lives were lived before the bereaved Amassed all of their bodies and encased them In metal and wood, drowning the casket in Concrete?

How many Timothy’s are buried there? Who mourns for their soul? Are they still missed?

I cannot believe in a perfect deity. It’s irreconcilable. If God is perfect, It’s a complete asshole.

I’m sorry this is so jumbled; Such a tangled mess.

It’s just easier to keep my mind Focused on so many nothings Than it is to think about anything.

[the-lions-refuse]

The Moment When I Begin To Question Whether “Mankind” Is A Contradiction In Terms.

I can’t be angry. That’s not fair, And it wouldn’t Change anything.

I suppose I resign Myself, instead, to feeling Cheated or Despaired.

Did our words Mean anything? The sum of our poems, vain?

Nights that I held you, If only in my mind, Was it only in mind? Are these memories just dreams? Scattered visions made manifest by Shattered desires of a forlorn Imagination; one found wanting,

Waiting.

Berating myself for ever Hoping to trust; for giving Forgiveness more weight than It has mass. How do you measure

Emotion? How can you quantify a reconciliation? When there is nothing to hold in your Hands how can you really get a Feel for the thing?

My words… they were just that. And though I’ve been told otherwise, It seems evident that they cannot mean Anything until they are read. Maybe not even then.

Yet here I am, Typing more words; Speaking with ghosts. Taking comfort from my Demons.

They’re the ones who stay.

[nhung-noi-buon-ko-ten]

Ba vẫn thường lặng lẽ với mảnh sân

Cứ ân cần với cái cây, ngọn cỏ...

Một sáng kia thấy hoa đùa trong gió

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Ba đã tô màu sắc cho khu vườn

Cho đẹp đẽ những điều bình thường nhất

Hoa Ba trồng là hương thơm, là mật

Là ngọt ngào vương vấn mãi...Ba ơi!

[doforselfnyc]

T.SQ NEWSSTAND

10月9日から18日までの10日間、New Yorkの様々なアーティスト、マガジンカンパニーをサポートする為に、Kimou “Grotesk” Meyer, Victory Journal, Juxtapoz Magazineが企画し、44stと45stのブロードウェイ、タイムズスクエアに突如現れたT.SQ NEWSSTAND。

New Yorkを拠点に活動するアーティスト、ライター、ジン、ショップをゲストに迎え、10日間様々なイベントを行っていました。

こんなイケてる企画が次々出て世界中に発信されるのもNew Yorkの面白いところです♪ Kimou “Grotesk” Meyer, Victory Journal, Juxtapoz Magazine, and Times Square Arts bring the T.SQ Newsstand, to the Broadway plaza between 44th and 45th Street from October 9 - October 18, 2015. It is an artful reminder of New York City’s support of artists and printed publications. They’ve invited some NY base artist, shop, zine and writer to held art event for 10 days. JUXTAPOZ MAGAZINE http://www.juxtapoz.com/tag/tsq-newsstand

[nhung-noi-buon-ko-ten]

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