more children are destroyed than the men destroying them
lovely lacerations around her throat, strangling the child she used to be. smoking her out, embers evaporating into her eyes, vanishing; vanquishing, the kid inside. laughter no longer plays against those lips; instead young men without names dance across her hips, and yet the smell of their aftershave gives them away. her pupils have taken over her eyes, illuminated by her scorched soul. nothing is the same. she no longer sees roses erupting from other's lives; she sees the daggers that lurk inside their sleeves, ready to crush any resemblance of her dreams.
Pulsing in wait.
Watching these people
while being ignored by bartenders
and waitstaff
20 minutes of anger
my drink arrives
I instantly order another
fucking Valentine's Day
almost shamed to capitalize it
Saturday
just want a beer and a burger
more whiskey
and for all the fucking
Hallmark static around me
to stop
to cease, desist
fucking die already
sitting here staring into
the bar
head full of fire
poems waiting
but out in the night
because I'm a fucking gentleman
and I must perform exactly
and that's nature
the breasts
and hair
and heels
the pulsing of the
night beside
the beauty of
living doll women
pushing up on
night
the
long breath
into the glass
perfect teeth smile
I wait
like
the
rest.
Listening to Music and Writing are One in the Same.
I'm pretty sure I have to listen to music when I write. If I'm writing about something that makes me upset, I feel like it's easier to channel my emotions if I'm listening to something that's either angry sounding, or has the same subject. Does that make sense? For example, when I wrote an angry letter to my dad(that I never intended on sending) I listened to "A Trophy Father's, Trophy Son" by Sleeping with Sirens.
I don't know if I have specific songs that I'll listen to, but here's a list of my "Go to" artists.
1. Brand New
2. City and Colour
3. Regina Spektor
4. Dance Gavin Dance
5. Sleeping with Sirens
6. 365DaysofStatic
7. Ratatat
8. Any sort of classical music (usually if I'm writing something for school)
9. Bayside
10. Beyoncé
I Listen to Music while I write
Whenever I wanted to write, I listen to music as it inspires me so bright!
Top 10 Writing Songs:
1. Just Once by James Ingram.
2. That's What Friends Are For.
3. How Do You Keep the Music Playing.
4. All of Me.
5. Wildflower.
6. You
7. Say That You Love Me.
8. The Warrior is a Child.
9. I'd Rather.
10. Dance with my Father.
I know this much is true:
Warm winters. Strong, bitter coffee after morning sex. Sunlight upon dirt. Rain upon an old beater across the street. The music that was in your head in bed making its way through your speakers. Words running across a screen. Remembering the ocean at night in the '80s while my first girlfriend blasted The Cure on her boom box: Realizing that 'Fascination Street' was about getting a blow job, her laugh, the sweet explanation to her on the sand. Being behind my computer in the Seattle summers, letting the water warm in the Sound, thinking about my board, the islands. A dog-eared copy of Ask The Dust. Sitting in Los Angeles watching people hunt each other. Walking through the East Village in summer eating fat chunks of seedless watermelon. The eyes of dogs. The skin of Europe. The slicing away of death through the tapping of the keys. The sunsets in Tombstone, in Mexico, in Miami. The high moon over Austin and Vegas, the dead smell of Fisherman's Wharf. Orange blossom. Feeling your skin rise in the middle of a poem.
No.
Too much of creation is about birthing and then disowning, fathering and then orphaning reducing...distilling...placing and then replacing. There is joy and violence and consternation. I build it up and then burn it down and all the while talk out loud just to hear what's left. I hate that word but love the vowel and place a pause just because. I double time it through and then next I slow it down always searching how to trim it up. I cuss my vocabulary and wrestle with subtle definitions until I do not hate it much. And then, after a hundred times through, I let it rest.
There is no room for music...that's someone else's bastard child.
I Do Not.
I do not because I listen to something much more. I listen to white noise. White noise is like.. Taking your sense of hearing, and just temporarily putting it somewhere else.
I also shut off the lights. Because of this, the only sense I'm using is sight. You know how if you are trying to think of a song, but you can't because another is playing, or when you try to picture something, so you close your eyes. That's because with an absence of a sense, you have to ability to use more imagination instead.