last week's triumphs turn
to this week's regrets, I've learned
seamlessly, in dreams

 

my poem today,

cantando constantemente
como las velas
de las abuelas
sin consuelo
me aparecen luces en el silencio
en la noche, solita en la cama
quemada por las llamas, las llamadas
volando y separando

callan las aguas del cielo
pero sigo muriéndome de sed
coño, ¿y cómo me metí yo en ésto?

roughly translated:

i sing constantly,
as my grandmothers' candles burn,
inconsolably.
lights appear in the silence
at night, alone in my bed
i'm burned by my flames, by telephone calls
which float, and diverge.
water falls from the sky,
yet i am always dying of some thirst.
shit. how did i get myself into this mess?

 
 
VanessaIAB (11:41:28 AM): my friend Doron is singing a little song
VanessaIAB (11:41:32 AM): he made up
VanessaIAB (11:41:41 AM): called "Fuck the World"
enigmiac (11:41:47 AM): I need to hear it
VanessaIAB (11:42:21 AM): fuck the world/make it a better place/for you me and everybody else/there are birds dying/and we don't really care
enigmiac (11:42:30 AM): haha
VanessaIAB (11:42:54 AM): fuck the world/make it a better place/we hate boys/and we hate girls who don't know what they're doing
enigmiac (11:43:00 AM): lol
VanessaIAB (11:43:01 AM): tralalallaaaalaa
VanessaIAB (11:43:28 AM): kill the birds/yesyesyesyeeeeessss/kill it kill it KILL IT, BABY!
VanessaIAB (11:45:17 AM): make it a better place for you and me and everyone who would like to die today 
VanessaIAB (11:47:47 AM): i changed my sexiest on-screen love scene in salon personals to "The diner scene in Howard the Duck"
enigmiac (11:48:14 AM): LOL
enigmiac (11:48:24 AM): that, my dear, is why you are the perfect woman
VanessaIAB (11:49:08 AM): haaaaaaaaaa
enigmiac (11:49:32 AM): for me, anyway
VanessaIAB (11:49:41 AM): when that guys turns into an evil alien and the world is about to end, only it doesent, because it gets saved by a GIANT TALKING DUCK
VanessaIAB (11:49:44 AM): WITH ARMS
enigmiac (11:49:51 AM): and fingers
enigmiac (11:49:54 AM): don't forget the fingers

 

 

Turning and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all convictions, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity. Surely some revelation is at hand; Surely the Second Coming is at hand. The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert A shape with lion body and the head of a man, A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun, Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds. The darkness drops again; but now I know That twenty centuries of stony sleep Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle, And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

 
there are two voices on the other end of the line 
this time last week, one of them was mine -
keeping up the necessary empathy,
or maybe the appearance thereof,
was much, much easier
on the other end of two thousand miles.
i do know that trying to be good is really not the same as the real thing at all.
he always took the phone to the bedroom, though, 
and i was reverent, patient, and silent
each time you called.
i guess that would explain 
why your beautiful voices
and the disconnected distances that spring up overnight 
electrified fences, frayed selvedges, stark palisades and hedges 
have left nothing connecting us
except three voices in thin air, pitched too high. 
i felt my stomach rumble down deep
and my lungs fill to push against my heart
i'm so sorry to be small, but i don't think i promised -
what did i know -
that i would never let these things happen

gpesoa says:
aviravirmayeddhidharmasivayanassanimamundi!
 
I'm not not licking toads... says:
osolemiosolemnissimoarrividerlaaldilaicinominepatriisefilliisespiritosantisenmundoseculumsecularumamen
gpesoa says:
ostabatmaterdolorosaymelosachocolatosaperadonaisabaothmetrathononaglajesuchristiredemptorhominietricottaconnuecesamén!
I'm not not licking toads... says:
achtungmonsoontyphoonbassoonsturmunddranggrandreinedrag
 
gpesoa says:
einekleinenachtvanessaplusapplestrudelversussadnessworeinmalvonquestognocchiwogeborenichunddu
I'm not not licking toads... says:
fragglejabbabaccawookieETkookyskookchinookwendigoetorc

gpesoa says:
flotsamjetsamalakazamkhakikiroakahasiaguadebebertweedlededeedidomdarú

I'm not not licking toads... says:
shintooboebashokobehomomomomuumuututubooboocoocookachooperiodebleupetitechouchoumojodojorobomototelefoto

You're not friends. You'll never be friends. You'll be in love till it kills you both. You'll fight, and you'll shag, and you'll hate each other till it makes you quiver, but you'll never be friends. Love isn't brains, children, it's blood...blood screaming inside you to work its will. I may be love's bitch, but at least I'm man enough to admit it.
-Spike

We might kiss when we are alone
When nobody's watching
We might take it home
We might make out when nobody's there
It's not that we're scared
It's just that it's delicate

So why do you fill my sorrow
With the words you've borrowed
From the only place you've know
And why do you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why do you sing with me at all?

We might live like never before
When there's nothing to give
Well how can we ask for more
We might make love in some sacred place
The look on your face is delicate

So why do you fill my sorrow
With the words you've borrowed
From the only place you've know
And why do you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why do you sing with me at all?


-Damien Rice, 'Delicate'

Yaki Torysan: hello
VanessaIAB: baby
Yaki Torysan: you busy?
VanessaIAB: always but never
VanessaIAB: when it comes to the chosen few
Yaki Torysan: what I mean is, can you/do you want to talk
VanessaIAB: unless i'm getting
VanessaIAB: yelled at
VanessaIAB: sure call me
VanessaIAB: 212
Yaki Torysan: and... and... and... am I one of the few?
VanessaIAB: 609
Yaki Torysan: I can't phone right now
VanessaIAB: 3729
Yaki Torysan: but I'll write it down
VanessaIAB: ok
VanessaIAB: my feet are smelly today
VanessaIAB: hmm
VanessaIAB: they're not usually smelly feet
Yaki Torysan: nice
Yaki Torysan: is that your cell #?
VanessaIAB: they smell like guacamole
VanessaIAB: no
VanessaIAB: office
VanessaIAB: here till six
VanessaIAB: i hope
Yaki Torysan: you hope?
VanessaIAB: unless i go real slow
VanessaIAB: :-(
Yaki Torysan: ahh
Yaki Torysan: I'm going really fast today
Yaki Torysan: I don't know why
VanessaIAB: where r u anyhow
Yaki Torysan: suffern
VanessaIAB: i'm sorry to hear that
VanessaIAB: but where are u?
VanessaIAB: hahahaha
Yaki Torysan: hahah