[x]

now accepting applications...the smoke beneath your bed finally finds you
staring crooked in broken mirrors
searching frantically
for the fire of your former features

forever and ember
still breath and false starts

'til it whispers

sure
the universe is big business
constantly expanding
but the fact of (the) matter is
it desires you deposit d.n.a.

demanding genetic building blocks
on which to lay its foundation

and though the future of father's daughters
is
certainly uncertain
the sun set's assured
eventual
consumption
of
everything

meanwhile

I'm eagerly anticipating the arrival
of the non-linear one-liner

something like:

yes it all implodes

peapodwhen you've seen your angel
drunk
and laughing sweet
then you can speak
of missing sleep

plant deep
and grow weak

find your fortune
made
by the company
you keep

silence retreats
complete

with unhinged jaw
replete

radiating
peace (devout belief)

and certainty that
seeps
from cloudswept brow
to same-swept feet

the sound surrounding sure
discretely
wrapped around your core
snuck a symphony
through cracks
and crept
where no music's
dwelt before

when each new
day's
an encore

dawn sings

when even loss
has lost
its sting

your polished dirt
will bear the proof
(the fruit)

of a dustbowl
heartland's
ha

the gift that keeps ungivingher dark arts
and pale arms
were spread
large
accepting my
lunar tics these
half-witted quips and
verbal cheap tricks my
instinct
dictates
(displaying defense
as gifts)

seems she sees
this mess as
the me
that I
want to be
not the oft
bridge burnt
wreck that
presents itself
constantly
with self-
fulfilled
prophecy
un- or sub-
consciously
collecting
the ghosts
and dashed hopes
that haunt
as he
shakes
in shades
of dusk and
decries
the night
he smothers
sparks & signs
of possible light

of passable life

of that one last
last chance
at getting it
right

a brief visit extendedcalifornia returns

painting
panting
portraits of love
etched in endless steps
and slanted streets

stretching sunburnt limbs
its languid strides
like solemn hymns
collapsed breathless
in the grass
'round grace cathedral

it finds hope
secondhand
but still potent
its thrift shop moments
making
better use
of battered truths
than those intended

it makes belief
not makes believe
that nothing's ended

if a tree falls in...a fenceless garden
defenseless and unguarded
she watches you grow

Dr. Moses recommends...life is a
film is a
process

thought is a
ghost is a
conscience

fresh caught
in the
flesh
fails all
in the
end
and

time is a
loss is a
prophet

atrophy of the mindI've got two brain cells left;
one's standing still
     and the other is chasing it.

a train
tied
to its tracks;

a plane crash
replacing
it.

a hemisphere
cut in half -

distance
in fractions
reviewed.

My mind is running down my face
and I can't find a cup
                  to catch it in.

life's
something that
keeps happening.

and, while
conscious (of this fact),
you think

(nothing)

of the moments
it's happening
to you.

My ears fell off a while ago,
if you are still talking

the reoccurring kindawake

I gasp and
clasp you
tight
you smile and
kiss my eyes
and I

awake I
gasp and
clasp you
tight
you smile
and kiss my eyes

and I

awake I gasp
and clasp
you tight
you smile
and kiss my eyes

and I awake.

elevens inseparableon the subject of confidence
the room grows
quiet
and I
quite tired
of not explaining myself
so

in case I do decide
on somewhere else
I leave behind
little pieces

each part
proudly
proclaiming
to be
(or not to be)
a whole

with each tiny silence filled
life imitates life

art takes note

and to hell with the rest of it

ever onward & expanding
tensions mounted
on the forefront
and somewhere
(in the very back of things)
is you and
forever

collectively assembled

distinguished but undefinable

and overall
not impressed

dear

it's always with a final thought
I leave you

It's everything...I've found a spot where the floor creaks just for me.

I sit & wait there
for the boards to collapse,
for my unannounced visit
to the neighbors.

I sit & wait
at lights, and in lines,
and in conversations
that go in circles.

I sit & wait for the music to end,
just so that I can go home.

I keep quiet as the world sleeps;
afraid to wake someone up,
afraid to sleep alone.

I've built a routine
dependent on falling apart
and still somehow manage
to be surprised

by every last bitter goodbye,
by every last haunting regret,
by every last
last word.

eskimo movies at the...oh, I see.

she wants a steady hand, and smooth script
stretching towards infinity.
she wants those wanton words
wrapped in needless syllables.
she wants what she wants. what she wants
is not this.

not my short & stumbling text; one word
tumbling towards the next. not these
scribbled, sloppy secrets; chopped up
and half-confessed. she'd much rather view
a ten-cent vocabulary flexed...

but I digress.

my hopeless,
broken english
speaks volumes.

mostly, it talks about me.

sometimes, it says "hey!
we're doing new & exciting things
with heartbreak,
down here."

sometimes, it just
screams
and screams
and screams
a

our aging seasonwinter comes in waves
warmth enough to leave you weak
softly slips away

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we keep our spirit-shape...bulging blue beetle
in cacophonous red dress
you sing like a bird
in the back of its cage

half naked
and honest as god intended
no if
an
indeed
at all

we talked about it for hours
when the beat sped up
and left us
desperate for morning
and all its insinuations

I was never as busy
forgiving
as forgetting

'til now

a prize for your ears called..I want the sound that says
sober in the morning
but still calling
crawling sideways
in the slow spin of this room
and

I'm not always so inspired
to sing so softly (out of key)
but darling

you inspire me

such insistence
on each each & every instance
(in every instant)
incredible
but still

try to keep
in mind
(unhardened)
in heart

I'm (accident) prone
to
stumbling
stuttering
and otherwise repeating

all the mistakes
I never wanted to make
in the first place

as for (this) second

hold tight to right now
because
eventually isn't everything

officiallythere is beauty here
and you with your
other half
artist's
eyes
could set it down
serenely
while I shake
struck dumb
done in
by distance passed so gently

scenery like history
repeating

lacking evidence
apparent
I
rely
on insecurities

practiced to perfection
collected
but
otherwise uncalm
on this
uncertain

and if I should declare
desire
for both action
and its better half
would you remain
so silent
defiantly dependable
body breathing its intentions?

each heartbeat
arguing imitation

agreeing

when it comes to
anything for
there is would
and there is will
and therein lies the difference

I wrote this for you anyway"Everything was going just fine, officer... but then her pictures started freaking me out."

With that, the suspect fled the scene and O'Malley was filled with that certain feeling. The
feeling that says 'I'm quite sure I've never been here before and I probably never spent much
time thinking about it then, either.'

It was always quiet nods with O'Malley. Sunset in the evening and daylight on the table -
same as it's always been. When you shuddered in the summer breeze, he was right there
in the storm. It's just the way it was.

There were no birds, broads, or dames where he was going. Somewhere south of the other
side of the street. A

an example is...the eloquence of irrelevance
(almost) elegant
in three easy parts

chapter one:

when your eyes burnt
slow
steady
almost out

about the way
that I confuse coincidence with timing

then two:

the faintest echo
and a fall
is all for nothing

like the
time we spent's half-open
and completely misinterpreted

'til done:

end acts confused
and can't remember who started it

then they all live
the same as
ever
after

(after all)

the heart keeps going anyway

formerly known as alwayssometimes I sense that
presence
I lack
in the way
way back
sparkling shine and
dulled sense of rejection
intact

but running at the mouth again

and I'm traveling the circle
your thoughts made
(exhausted)
and if ever there was anything
but memories
we lost it
left with
tongue stumbling over steps
numbered footprints
and neverminds
not designed
for unfiltered
heart
and sorry boy
attached

but
you love to dance
eyes locked on loving interests
and I loved
standing in between
pretending
you were interested

signing off,
a footnote explained

(getting good at goodbyes
and not good enough for anything)

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for cat and for countryby `YouInventedMe

Photography / Humorous

©2011-2013 `YouInventedMe

my cat, Augustus Gloop, takes a stand/sit in solidarity.

AND BEHOLD! MY POOR PAINTBRUSH SKILLS!

~mini-ebil-ninja Oct 28, 2012 Hobbyist

LOLYES. cute&

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!RomanYoungblood May 9, 2012 Student General Artist

OH YOU.

Reply

`YouInventedMe Jun 4, 2012 Writer

he is a magical creature of justice.

Reply

!RomanYoungblood Jun 4, 2012 Student General Artist

It's about damn time I found him!

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!cIassica Feb 29, 2012 Writer

_{omgosh. your cat = too adorable.
my cats do the exact same thing. (:
haha!}

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`YouInventedMe Mar 1, 2012 Writer

are your cat's Persian by any chance? I've had
cats before, but I've never had one sleep in the sink
on a regular basis until we got this little guy.

Reply

!cIassica Mar 1, 2012 Writer

_{nope, my cats are just regular ol' cats. they sleep in my cabinets too. it's so funny. =3}

Reply

~SlavicWolf Jan 28, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

I have to fave this. it is... just have to.

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`YouInventedMe Feb 8, 2012 Writer

haha. thanks!

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~SlavicWolf Feb 13, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

For Cat and country!

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