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Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in saint_narcissus' LiveJournal:

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Friday, May 19th, 2017
3:04 pm
'hands in your pants, a poem'
alone in the middle
never bothered with a name
hardly remember
the first days of siege
born with no legs
a cast on my arm
did not speak until four
read my first book at three
temple of trees
librarian’s best friend
ripped the crotch
of my green pants
fifth grade class
sent home
laid awake in bed
head out the window
eagle’s soar but
I never took the leap
goblins and twos
roam where I am not
able
darkest basement abutting
catholic relics
you were so physical
I tried my hand
the straight never came
see
I can pretend to be human
I can drive a stick
fill up the tank
have an underage drink
mom’s think I am oh, so sweet
standing in fair Verona
twas neither Montague
nor Capulet
I wore tighty whities then
so did all the boys
remember dealing on a 500
year old wicker table
four of a kind
you were the first person
who knew me
later some one offered me your
head
under a chestnut tree
dead of night
bottle of what ever we could
get hold
the rail cars ran six times a day
half the boxcars were
empty
there was no where else to
breathe
scared with stories of devotion
and love
the hulls and husks on the floor
scraped your knees
the motion of the train scraped
my heart
night dense with the
sour of the giant
on the edge of town
standing on an ice sculpture
perhaps of an elephant
when I imagined you died
the graveyard is empty
there were never kissing games
in my youth.
3:03 pm
'(but go I), for the geography of being and time'
by luck of the draw
you were born where you were
belly full or hand full of grass
what did you do
to be who you are
privilege of place
palace or slum
4th of July
Gengis Khan
business executive
beaten down slave
given mother’s milk
swaddled in clothe
to the grave
do you wait on line
for the shiny new apple
or weld the components
in 3rd world factories
predator or hunted
gatherer of thieves
reservation bread
pipeline dead
epiphany
the crocus and the olive tree
anointed and cursed
harissa and seine
golden calf holy cow
choke on a silver spoon
black lacquered ankh
coming and going
it is all the same
how do you pull yourself
up
by the bootstraps
when you do not even wear
boots
nor the privilege
to throw them aloof
how do you hold the seeds
of humanity in hand
Patagonia
when they sift through the sands
if at first you don’t succeed
wear a chapeau
bundled up from the cold
freeze as the fire burns out
wudū on knees
cross self at breast
fire dance
ghost dance 1890
immigrant
standing rock
600 chariots to stop
Moses plight
bones
and an Irish men’s whiskey
famine or flush
the New York docks
William Bradford
on Plymouth Rock
aboard the Eider
Abu Dhabi or
Abu Ghraib
Syria in shambles
handcuffs and lace
science of godheads
sumatra or oolong
first rocket to the moon
bullet the brain
who decided
what chance
dance the minuet
on graves
we are all dead
who dealt this hand
the mere chance of birth
Oceania or wall street
oboe or french horn
kiss to each cheek
pierce through the side
one is no better
parched and drowned
bring the water to villages
or villages to water
earthenware jar
balance on head
a being dies
a being lives
on edge of pure fate
hap’n chance
expectation of
education of
subjugation of
shelter
bread
no one deserves any more
no one deserves any less
but for this
geography of birth
this circumstance of time
you are nothing
you are all.
3:01 pm
'vows & words'
all most a decade
time goes fast
I was too old for love
when we met
cigarette
smoke and alcohol fade
being the last person
you had eyes on
me
the night
the balcony
we reached for stars
obtainable stars
sun arose
the night still in our eyes
this is for ever
this will never end
most days
I have to pull up
photographs
to remember your
face
but I all ways remember
your touch
your hands
I remember your spit
knowing the first
never lasts
never ends well
all the girls before
could tell
I was in for a pound
I was in for a penny
I would never let go
I bent over back wards
I failed
no words
no vows
were broken
the stars
no matter how bright
could just
not
align.
Monday, July 29th, 2013
3:24 pm
A Fine Aged Nectar
moving pieces and bits
laquer and veneer
small vial of ashes
tips over on the shelf
book ends
uneven and skewed
lithe bodies of pages
flit and flut
indigo brittle and burnished
no stopping
no fear of this process

nothing left to count on
hell and frustration
high water and the
high way
the joke
of what will never be
tip taste of Grecian honey
wine from Ganymede’s lips
laughter o’ Zeus
this layman’s heart
this lament and this blood

I hold the moth to flame
the brightness blinds and
maims
I know no other way
to be.
Thursday, May 2nd, 2013
1:54 pm
'3 Clumps of Soil'
saw the last of
life
suffuse
suffundere
some thing of my
history
my greatest teacher
untold joys
untold sorrows
multiples of places
peoples
events
thus failed in deciding
who I am
this bough did not
break
this cradle did not
fall
watching night fade
fast
on empty stomach
anguish to pass
this terrible thing
has happened
strife
akin to stable
sugar and tart
I had it all
hands to walk up on
feet to hold
sense and nonsense
this means to an
end
dancing on graves
I flit
I flutter
heave and I
hoe
mere pause in time
a nose’s wrinkle
a feather’s tickle
beaten
blooded
moist soil and
mould
I grab hand fulls
of the same and
inhale.
Thursday, April 18th, 2013
12:45 pm
'dead jellyfish floating'
even Mother has a
photograph
she carries to her heart
this Woodbine has gone out
waiting is divine
conception
hands half mast
obsolete inflection
allied means
other human beings
you
are the beautiful
cardboard
is your bed
disgust and
ablution
ceremonial and
sacrosanct
fire offers perfection
ashes gather dusk
thrown marine
mourine
close to the line
tight
taunt and ready
to let go
not
the same
surrender to
the psalm of
this the Thin White Duke
ashes to ashes
363 and ghoul
take careful aim
throw lethal darts
it is the
return of the…
Friday, April 12th, 2013
12:51 pm
'Angry Scrabble'
(I don’t play words with friends.)

I look into the kiss of your
words
swallow whole the indignation
of your fears and doubt
you do not have a
sound
to stand up on
no reason
and no might
to draw your sword in fight
you
do not want a throw down
I don’t play words with friends
it’s not rodomontade
for me to say
my vocabulary is profusely
bigger than yours
if a kiss is just as sweet
by any other name
I’ll hold you tight
embrace, caress
peck and smack, stroke
and fondle, hug and squeeze
buss and smooch and beso
I’ll come up on
you
on bended knees
perhaps
perchance
to kiss
you with these words.
11:04 am
'Naked'
‘verte desnuda es recorder la Tierra’
- Federico Garcia Lorca

to throw it all in
ragamuffin smudge
the eyes of a Snowman
silence of an April’s night firn
breath on the air
billowous
to surge and roil
partial thaw
full rage on
gathered and tread
o’re the Summer fled
rejoice!
renew!
the Winter’s nigh
as cold as death am I
my bite and bark
stripped aside
an infinite number of words
for snow
a finite number of kisses
embrace me
hold me in your arms and
warmth
we all know the end
result
call in the CSI
there’s nothing left of
I
what’s left of a Snowman
after the thaw?
a carrot nose?
2 lumps of coal?
these fragile things in a
puddle of melt
‘to see this Earth
is to recall you naked.’
Tuesday, April 9th, 2013
12:13 pm
'One After 908'
un less
other wise noted
here I experiment
the experiment am I
art changes
nothing.
continue to lie
to the masses
as on broken backs
they dig grave massives
number 4 means nothing to me
as I pump my veins
full of Morphine
slow numbers die
waiting in line
‘leave them kids alone’
dark sarcasm drips
from my brow
stings my eyes blinks
saline skies
stoke the iron
forge a head
come home late
come home lame
and lay in my bed
my pillow puffs intentions
exhaustion is my only friend
the dark of night my coverlet
acrid in my decline
sulfuric and ironic
in my stench
lying dogs
bark and wimper as
I reach to pet them.
11:08 am
'Reality Owl'
have you heard the owl crow?
cluck the break of day
to each the other
glistens
this steamy early morning
fog
cloaks all of my
creation
clings so fiercely to this
domination
interlaced in irony
not a parchment ’round
to writ
these ideas down in blood
70′s veneer
paneled in
this world hopes and
prayers
basement locks
concrete walls
guide wire trees above
jettison these dreams
de-fractionizing
edifice unseemly
seems
sanity in the
sane mans eye
chaste weed still
in Brooklyn grows
we have seen before us
this endless flow
have survived before
this ebb.
Tuesday, April 2nd, 2013
1:44 pm
'sidewalk man'
caterpillars
butterflies road
kill
rare and elderly
home
less imaginary foe
some give voice I
still alone standing
cry into bathtub
gin with twisted
suppression
something unpleasant
bitter bit lemon
rind
such sense in
insensible hearts
unthinkable
act hatred
innocents playing
play ground feces
syringes
40’s folded card
bored boxes
loosing hand
Queen Alexand’
largess span
rain forest man
precipice eyes
batted never
dangerous
out and down
fetish child’s
hood clown
poised fox
hole religion
endangered en-
gendered
asphalt pillow
street sweep
alarm
pennies hand jacks
catty’s eyes
marrididdle
sing sung rhymes
busk and beg
birdwing
down feather
head how soon
is now Johnny
do mariposa shed
tears tip ‘o 40
sweet dreams
side walk man
1:42 pm
'before my eyes'
nothing flashes before my eyes
when faced with death
up on the rise
these bones and flesh
feel naught
down the fall of night
come stars and foggy
sight
not for me to dream not to recall
howl of moon
nor touch of hand
kiss of lips
this mask of love
sunset sunrise
ancient oak your leaves
to fall
autumn mist trodden
and lull
cradle my head and
bow to breath
so random and removed
still
nothing to regret
11:22 am
Choroidal Nevi
shadows fade
happy and content
your face in light of day
that freckle in your eye
there is a pedigree
spheric adulation
a zenith and a
nadir
wrought with
fire of hell
tradition
so uninspired
this flame caught up on your
eye
desirous
yet fraught with long
suppression
you finally took a
stand
so callow
lacking in expression
not knowing how
or what
you took my hand
looked in my eye
stood up on my toes and
kissed.
Friday, March 29th, 2013
2:31 pm
one more time
try not to remember
so hard to forget
did I beckon
does the beginning
fall on my shoulders
masque and shade I
feign to be human
come close
to touch
to taste
to smell
aloof
I stand in darkest corner
backest wall
my now human hand
takes to heart
your human touch
enter the
jokes and gimmicks
the
pranks and pricks
laugh at my own indignation
did I really think
when the dust settled
I would be able
to breathe again
that when the rainclouds
dried
I would be able to see
did I not know this end
to remember
to forget
I beckon
the beginning
on my shoulders
masque shade
feign human
close
touch
taste
smell
aloof
darkest corner
backest wall
hand to
heart
gimmicks
pricks
my indignation
think
dust settles
able and
again
rainclouds
dry
to see to
not know
remember
forget
on
and
Thursday, March 28th, 2013
1:58 pm
129 Hawk Hill
words I never said
held against time
and fiction this
affliction
when I cut my flesh
it does not
speak to me of red.

I flit above waves
gun hill never saves
kneeling under off trail shrubs
you came to me
I came to you
in drops of fog
outcrops animate
'if I could
I'd still be running up
that hill.'

the place was perfect
the time was not
on my own
I can never make it here
it is magnificence
out of reach.

watching massive Freighters
pass under the Golden Gate
billions of lives go on
subsisting on cheese and bread
still I can not find the
words I never said.
1:11 pm
406 Alvarado
at least I got to see the bridge
57 percent water and decreasing
Bahia de San Francisco
like the Ohlone
my ashes break
against Seal Rocks and Monterey
my duct taped boots sog
debris and remnants
of this world wake.

I kept my eyes open
as best I could
with toothpicks as was needed
I put my hand out
and was rejected
Ocean Beach at night
less infinite
shambles of day light
less evident
salt stains wave packed sand
less human.

at the edge of 406 Alvarado
ladles of Pacific Plastic Soup
I, not sun burn, my own worse enemy
I should have jumped in
as you shivered and huddled
in my hoody
sneaking tokes to settle your tum
this Plastic Soup fulfilling the
myth of Atlantis.

as Aqualung I hit the crest
swimming with this pod of Orcas
towards my plastic island paradise.
Wednesday, March 27th, 2013
12:06 pm
green rain
composed
clear of conscience
as if I were Maria Antoinette
moments before
the hour of noon.

hold I
petals and thorns in
upturned palms
all decomposed
natural and synthetic
never found in nature.

scattered towards
winds and means
ancient
lust to lust
childlike
must and tears
blood drips from my mouth.

moist and saline
the last man on Mars
images
kept alive by disciples
could we let these children go
noisome and degenerate
nothing calls inevitable
the future already is.

this is not
amusing and indecent
nor oh, so charming and endeared
this is shit and blood
this is decaying breath
here my words fall as
green rain
never fear
never fear.

the future
is
Monday, March 25th, 2013
4:21 pm
a single small room exists
layer after layer
Wiki tells me
every seven years
the physical is no more
gazing star-ward
darkest night
in to the eyes of Neanderthal
and you
this moment exists again
and again
I lean forward and down
in to your arms
I am a collector
of myth
renegade and bearer of
that which never
now
and all
ways
is.
this is not your god
this is bone and blood
this is spit and dna
this is cells and star dust
preexisting
hereditary
the future
I am a gatherer
of minutes
of seconds
of each
and every
breath
that
escapes
your mouth
your kiss
my kiss.
1:46 pm
'15 Apricots'
"You never say a moral thing,
and you never do a wrong thing."
- Basil Hallward


hanging on apricot wall
this painting like Dorian Gray
I don't have the curves
and lines suggested by your past.

Staring for days on end
this empty space in my head
where your childhood
kept you under key and lock.

You slowly breathed me in
became part of me
spelled out a 15 point word
for a kiss and my death.

I get late night texts
listing books you think I'd enjoy
but, I know what you really want
I know who you really are.

Now my muscles spasm
most days my pen falls from hand
you were always disdained
that I never wrote about you.

Now are you happy
these tears don't dry if you're
happy
am I.

Current Mood: happy
Thursday, March 21st, 2013
2:22 pm
2 Oceans
this salt of sweat and sea
the power of breath and bleed.

there are two oceans in between.

immature I stood
one foot stretched to each coast
giving in to neither
these 'distraction' states
once again fabricates
what is and
what is not
remembered.

what gives disappointment
and what
we disappoint in.

this is my past
this is my present and my future
yours is just an other story
mine is all ways lies
images eye can not see
wipe the glisten from my throat.

my voice hoarse and dry
only so few words left
the others gasp
choke and spittle
salt hardened palm
corroded arts
at this attitude my knows
drips red.

slight headed
short of death.

hold these issues
to my nose
and sop up all I've been.

I go down for this night and
the count is zed.
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