largesse
revivified
languorous

WHY AM I SO BORED!?
i wish people would stay up later and save me.
YOU KNOW WHO.
ho...
>:l

i don't understand things.

i wonder how many times we've passed each other on the street
if there was mutual eye play or just a cursory glance
we've stepped on the same pavement
walked the same avenue
seen what all eyes do see, when do you suppose we would meet?

the clamor of the city ties my breath in a knot
the vindictive cars, the obnoxious breath of gasoline
the halo of smoke that billows from the tailpipe

i can feel the wisps draining me
wrapping around my body like ribbons
clasping onto my neck and clothes

suppose we did meet, suppose the droning noon sun shone on us
at the exact same moment, on the exact same street
our pupils dilating at the same instant
our skin taking on an unearthly glow of some grecian god
slowly walking in the same direction

and alas more things change, i still remain the same.

i don't think i've ever felt so insecure.
so impotent and useless.
life is strange once you realize pain is infinite.

people are so boring. i hate people. people people aaah!

hey, hey! prunes are stupid.

Like a third set of teeth
or a side in a chess match

Thought

and most mysterious
of all, the
matter of thought

The mortal mind thinking
deathless things,
singing

See it examining
black grains of death
and life - they are the same
thing
in its open hand

Sweet black green - shadowed grains of soil:

see it secretly

taste one.

bored, BORED! go eat yourself.

did i really just watch like eight seasons of will and grace bloopers?
fuck get a life much, it's friday... it's friday! D';

It's root is somewhere in my skull, I feel it draining me, it is an insignificant vampire. Only afflicted on me. It takes me for a walk in the rain, trying to clear my thoughts. It's a tree that thrives on my energies, my passions, it rarely gives me space. Because once I stop I think about it, it's back again, and again, and again. The cycle, I am round with it. I am depleted from it. It's workings bore into me and devour what semblance of a soul I have left.


I need to read more. fgirasg

our youth is starting to change.
i wonder sometimes if it's in my head.

when we're in the same room, i can feel your eyes penetrating me.
or hall, or under a bridge.
am i imagining things?
it's heat, i can feel heat, or maybe your just strange.
or me
maybe im strange, and fantasize too much.

i have too many pieces of what doesn't matter anymore.

Judith Wright
Born
Poet James Wright
Born
Poets Franz Wright and Charles Wright.

James Wright and son Franz Wright (my favorites out of all) are two of the family whom won the same Pulitzer prize in the same category. Which was unheard of them until Franz Wright won it back in 2004 for 'Martha's Vineyard'. Whereas the recently deceased James Wright won it back in 1973 for the his elegies; "Two Citizens', 'I See the Wind', 'Old Booksellers and Other Poems', 'Moments of an Italian Summer' and 'To a Blossoming Pear Tree'.

It seems like there would be a lot of competition for daddies attention between Franz Wright and Charles Wright - Franz Wright is who I believe is the better poet of the two.