Now what am I supposed to do with broken sentences of you :: quotes and a song

“…our conversations are never easy, but as I – we – get older, we are all finding that our conversations must be spoken. A need burns inside us to share with others what we are feeling. Beyond a certain age, sincerity ceases to feel pornographic. It is as though the coolness that marked our youth is itself a type of retro-virus that can only leave you feeling empty. full of holes.” ~ Douglas Coupland :: Live After God Little Conversations :: Concrete Blonde Continue reading Now what am I supposed to do with broken sentences of you :: quotes and a song

Friday Five :: They ride the roads as they bend

Hit the Ground Running :: Smog Friday Five 5 Things this song reminds me of: 1. A “New Year” is just around the corner, a mere eight days away, and though this year in my life was a mis-matched case of doubt and delight, I am feeling very good about most of my life now, or at least hopeful. I am ready for the idea of a new start and I am hoping that I’ll hit the ground running. 2. That I am tired of bitterness and feeling held in a state of limbo. So many of the voices around … Continue reading Friday Five :: They ride the roads as they bend

I can already hear your tune calling me across the room :: songs and poetry

End (by me) Again. She spins and spins and spins. Drips sugar spooned poison pen promises, while the soul drips fluid from paper cranes, remorse. The say she makes good, fakes good, takes good. Whispered hesitation, resuscitation, masturbation, manipulation. Watch her spine bend and break, bend and break, oh darling, crush the floor with me. In diamond culled clinging passion fruit, madness, watch it dangle and drain. Here she comes, here she comes, here she comes. Fallen idols, lit cigarette holed stockings, the rips slip slid slide. His teeth sink in, deeper still. Begin. Swamp Thing :: The Chameleons Continue reading I can already hear your tune calling me across the room :: songs and poetry

X and O promises made of smoke and ashes :: A Playlist

  X and O promises made of smoke and ashes :: Eight days away :: A Playlist Listen here on Spotify Little Girl :: Robert Francis Guess I’m Doing Fine :: Beck Forget Me Not :: The Civil Wars Jackie :: Sinead O’Connor Little Wing :: Jimi Hendrix Baker, Baker :: Tori Amos Shadowboxer :: Fiona Apple Feeling Good :: Nina Simone I Wish I was in New Orleans :: Scarlett Johansson This Year :: The Mountain Goats Growing Old is Getting Old :: Silversun Pickups Know Who You are at Every Age :: Cocteau Twins Better be Home Soon … Continue reading X and O promises made of smoke and ashes :: A Playlist

She falls in love with me :: songs and prose

She was there by an off-chance coincidence, a fail safe that had failed, so she reversed time and her experience to become a record store clerk, again, shelving music instead of managing clients and budgets. The truth is, she loved it, her fire escape dive to freedom. The trains click-clacked all night as she tried to sleep, curled up on an leaking mattress of air, on too cold of floors, wrapped up in nearly gone arms. This had been their last ditch effort, a new city, a cross-country denial. They were fading faster than he could light her next cigarette, … Continue reading She falls in love with me :: songs and prose

Now that your coffee is growing cold :: songs and poetry

Keep Art Alive :: Art by Kelly Vivanco The Lament of a Late Night Diner Waitress (by me) Next step will be forward, next time I will stick around, and I will walk with arms outstretched, to the sky. You will see me with the purple boots, crimped and curled hair, unruly, styled by wind and night. There will be an element, of crazy, of passion, of I think I know her but. And, you will see me, with one eye squinted shut, and your mouth wide and oh’d. Next time I will leave a number, next time you will … Continue reading Now that your coffee is growing cold :: songs and poetry

No hero in her sky :: song of the day

Keep Art Alive :: “Have My Heart” :: Art by Joshua Petker “And so it is, the colder water, the blower’s daughter, the pupil in denial.” I am not sure when it began, or what started me believing that in love I had to give everything that I am in order to deserve to be loved back. Not that I do not think that love should be about giving, but somewhere along the line there was a disconnect inside of me that transmitted this message that I was the one that needed to give, and give until I had nothing … Continue reading No hero in her sky :: song of the day