DISCLAIMER: This is cut and paste from my real journal.
I should preface this by saying I read lots of things on my LIVEJOURNAL friends list<b> about how much people feel they are being hurt by semi-anonymous, semi-ambiguous people.</b>
Sometimes I know what's going on. Sometimes I don't.
All of them (all of you?) express it in many ways.
How often do we admit it,...
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I should preface this by saying I read lots of things on my LIVEJOURNAL friends list<b> about how much people feel they are being hurt by semi-anonymous, semi-ambiguous people.</b>
Sometimes I know what's going on. Sometimes I don't.
All of them (all of you?) express it in many ways.
How often do we admit it,...
Read More
80's Bamboo
by JR
A thought occurred to me at the riverbank,
trading kisses with Samantha
and her friend Angela,
the one with the thin smile,
all of us shoeless.
My back and Angela's
crept up and down
the trunk of an Oak tree,
the one with thin branches,
soggy sneakers dangling from them.
Ornaments, Sam called them, of Freedom.
Imagine the Promises made amongst...
Read More
by JR
A thought occurred to me at the riverbank,
trading kisses with Samantha
and her friend Angela,
the one with the thin smile,
all of us shoeless.
My back and Angela's
crept up and down
the trunk of an Oak tree,
the one with thin branches,
soggy sneakers dangling from them.
Ornaments, Sam called them, of Freedom.
Imagine the Promises made amongst...
Read More
To Make Yourself Cold
by JR
Some, like the woman of whom
I am thinking,
move from place to place
collecting feathers,
too busy, I think, with human feathers
for their animal skin hats,
to pause even when paused,
to not speak even when not speaking.
I want to say she is afraid
of silence, but that is not true.
I want to say she...
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by JR
Some, like the woman of whom
I am thinking,
move from place to place
collecting feathers,
too busy, I think, with human feathers
for their animal skin hats,
to pause even when paused,
to not speak even when not speaking.
I want to say she is afraid
of silence, but that is not true.
I want to say she...
Read More
The Designated Driver
(final draft)
The drunk sheep look up,
and are not fed.
Were so full of shit,
it hurts my head -
our poetry; high fallutin
personal ads.
Shoes on a wire mean
different things to
different people.
Last night, she blazed
a circle A beneath
the steeple.
There are no churches
in this town, except the
brown one by the grocer.
The...
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(final draft)
The drunk sheep look up,
and are not fed.
Were so full of shit,
it hurts my head -
our poetry; high fallutin
personal ads.
Shoes on a wire mean
different things to
different people.
Last night, she blazed
a circle A beneath
the steeple.
There are no churches
in this town, except the
brown one by the grocer.
The...
Read More
mora:
oh oh oh!! lemme know you idea about the T!!!
grr. yeah, well oregon sucks. wish I was back there. much more fun. much better for me. it's just stale here. nothing to occupy myself with, and i start to go insane. drudge up old shit that keeps me in bed past 2.
i like your poerty. very narritive short short feel to it. i like. wouldn't mind reading more if you're ever board and want to send me some.
hope everything is going well over there.
due to my level of bordem here, i'll probably end up writing you because i am that much of a nerd.
brie
grr. yeah, well oregon sucks. wish I was back there. much more fun. much better for me. it's just stale here. nothing to occupy myself with, and i start to go insane. drudge up old shit that keeps me in bed past 2.
i like your poerty. very narritive short short feel to it. i like. wouldn't mind reading more if you're ever board and want to send me some.
hope everything is going well over there.
due to my level of bordem here, i'll probably end up writing you because i am that much of a nerd.
brie
You Wrote Much Better Poetry in High School
Don't say one thing,
when it means another.
Just because you whisper,
that doesn't mean it doesn't matter.
Your mouths' both sides are many.
I have felt them again and again.
They are sweeter when angry,
softer when sobbing, distant if distant.
No two ways about that last one,
when heaving nightly for your heart scraps.
We,...
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Don't say one thing,
when it means another.
Just because you whisper,
that doesn't mean it doesn't matter.
Your mouths' both sides are many.
I have felt them again and again.
They are sweeter when angry,
softer when sobbing, distant if distant.
No two ways about that last one,
when heaving nightly for your heart scraps.
We,...
Read More
claudia:
i try to keep in mind that i can only shape my immediate environment, and therefore should feel no qualms about being helpless. but the magnitude of the mistake we are about to make has made me extremely sensitive to everything. i fight back tears all the time, whether it is hearing that a kid has been killed in a car crash or watching a mother's proud grin. there is an aching feeling that seems to persist throughout all my daily activities. being happy, which i happen to be right now, seems to only intensify this feeling. blah blah blah, moan moan moan.
Brie, who goes out with the new bassist for my band, just did her first set. Everyone should check it out and give her props. Wow, I feel like such an SG "insider" now.
Word.
"JR"
Word.
"JR"
VIEW 6 of 6 COMMENTS
kingcrac:
When you guys decide to record may I suggest my friend Marc at New Alliance Studio on Boylston in the Fenway? He's in a couple of bands you might know, Quintaine Americana and Crack Torch. My friend Chris from Crack Torch books the Middle East upstairs so mention my name, Graham, to him and maybe he'll give you a good slot on a good bill. Or maybe not, but it's worth a shot.
mora:
hmm. i don't know whats wrong witht he friends thing. maybe i don't really exist at all.
and thank YOU for inviting me to that party. i had a wonderful, fun time. seeing as how i probably won't talk to you before break, have a wonderful tour. have fun, doink groupies, ride vepsas. i expect pictures, hehe. and i'm telling you, the offer still stands if you find yourself on my side of the US for new years...
and thank YOU for inviting me to that party. i had a wonderful, fun time. seeing as how i probably won't talk to you before break, have a wonderful tour. have fun, doink groupies, ride vepsas. i expect pictures, hehe. and i'm telling you, the offer still stands if you find yourself on my side of the US for new years...
November be Damned
(Rough Draft 1B)
by "JR"
The yellow leaves of November
are pressed to the concrete by rain
like a wax paper crafts project.
Since McDonalds opened, there is always litter,
especially in the rain, a hamburger box
sloshing around in a puddle, floating down a little river
to the curb like a child's toy boat.
A woman from my class walks by...
Read More
(Rough Draft 1B)
by "JR"
The yellow leaves of November
are pressed to the concrete by rain
like a wax paper crafts project.
Since McDonalds opened, there is always litter,
especially in the rain, a hamburger box
sloshing around in a puddle, floating down a little river
to the curb like a child's toy boat.
A woman from my class walks by...
Read More
Spending a day with Jello Biafra was by no means a dissapointment. First, I picked Jello Biafra up at Logan. I have plenty to say about how wierd the airport is - as a phenomenon - as in what role it plays in capitalism - as in why the OK Computer album has the artwork it does.
As in the atmosphere created by the dozen...
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As in the atmosphere created by the dozen...
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Misery
(rough draft 4B)
by Jeff Hall
Misery, like a pin, comes to a point
where all that is balanced upon it is punctured.
Loneliness is a lie you tell to someone you love,
or even half-tell, being revealed to a room of people
you consider beautiful and love - ex-lovers and relatives
to whom it is relevant, to whom it is important,
like the...
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(rough draft 4B)
by Jeff Hall
Misery, like a pin, comes to a point
where all that is balanced upon it is punctured.
Loneliness is a lie you tell to someone you love,
or even half-tell, being revealed to a room of people
you consider beautiful and love - ex-lovers and relatives
to whom it is relevant, to whom it is important,
like the...
Read More
claudia:
wow. that was intensely and poignantly beautiful. i was on beacon street last week, as a matter of fact, walking with my ex-boyfriend and talking about madness. there is never an end to the poetry of youth, though. but then i guess it depends on how you regard the word "youth". inexperience and confusion is one part, but then there is freedom and curiousity and passion and idealism on the other. i'm still hanging on to that other with all my might.
Indian girl in a gray sweater on the green line.
(rough draft #1)
by J.R.
The Indian girl on the trolley with the gray sweater,
must have a hook stuck in her eye,
or something along those lines, no pun intended.
I usually do the staring and the looking on the train.
I always do the staring and the looking.
I am looking down the...
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(rough draft #1)
by J.R.
The Indian girl on the trolley with the gray sweater,
must have a hook stuck in her eye,
or something along those lines, no pun intended.
I usually do the staring and the looking on the train.
I always do the staring and the looking.
I am looking down the...
Read More
Tall Arab boy
(rough draft #2)
by J.R.
Tall Arab boy,
there is no need to cut yourself.
I know your mother died.
I knew her, not as well as you.
Your scars would hurt her eyes.
Your father is an artist.
He has given you more than a home.
He leaves, but does not like leaving you alone.
Your scars hurt him in places,...
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(rough draft #2)
by J.R.
Tall Arab boy,
there is no need to cut yourself.
I know your mother died.
I knew her, not as well as you.
Your scars would hurt her eyes.
Your father is an artist.
He has given you more than a home.
He leaves, but does not like leaving you alone.
Your scars hurt him in places,...
Read More
My Best Brush with Greatness
(rough draft #4)
by J.R.
At a party full of purebreds, 99% imported,
Sean and I were scheming to abandon our art school girlfriends.
Morgan overheard this.
"What a waste," she shot, precocious bullets, precious trigger.
Tight body built like the jealousy of art or the perfected art of jealousy -
5'3 I'd wager - with lips begging for one...
Read More
(rough draft #4)
by J.R.
At a party full of purebreds, 99% imported,
Sean and I were scheming to abandon our art school girlfriends.
Morgan overheard this.
"What a waste," she shot, precocious bullets, precious trigger.
Tight body built like the jealousy of art or the perfected art of jealousy -
5'3 I'd wager - with lips begging for one...
Read More