coming soon

to a theatre near you
in your head
a story about you and me
divided by a split second
in space, called decision

dont miss out
you will be captivated
by real life
and whimsical dreams
of love and heartbreak and happy endings

monday night $1 beer

dressed in black
ur sweet face
take his seat
smile at me
join me
slow
awkward
beautiful
i should go
on my bike
grasp my lock
ur face was unforgettable

everything becomes nothing

stretched along this couch
eyes strain teared and open
red panties and pink tank wrinkle at my skin
as my fingertips dance at my navel
daydreaming
dreaming
streaming
music
playing
can u hear me?

rain

my thin blouse revealing my teal tank under
letting the damp hair at my cheeks
i look unkept, and bright, and carefree
maybe i look crazy?
no, that guy just did the 180
maybe he likes crazies?
I appproach the 5 dollar umbrella stand
but my green shoes proceed, passed
as water drips from my nose
fluttered eyes, I give the sky my face
In return it takes my thoughts
my fears, my doubts.
and gives me the rain...pouring rain.

bunnys hop

Bunnies hop and they hop...and are undeniably, irressistably cute.
that's what they do best and not much more.

revelations

they happen.
an awakening...my happy awakening.
im leaving for a bit.

coulda...woulda...shoulda

the last laugh out loud...lover of egg whites.
i still smile.
running bagels and sweet cream cheeses.
still smile.
show me off in vegas
pitch me a tent in washington
stroll my hand in new york
sing the prelude to me
on june 21...then july 21.
sept. 21 will be...my forever.

dabda's 2nd 'D' rant

you want a piece of this?
tell me someone who doesnt
hot
smart
funny
sweet
charming of course
take a piece of this
steal it
violate it
destroy it
then toss it back to me
ther are a thousand pieces to go around
.
.
.
all a perfect fit

unchartered territory

i am not a creature of regret
but it seems there is room to learn new tricks
mistakes have always been a tool to learn from
but it seems there wasnt a place for this one

scars

it's been a long time since i fell so hard and scabbed so badly...if ever

self portrait: 11 years in the making

I created once, when i was 18, a painting of my psyche.
the nude figures in the background i had to paint in my bedroom at home. this a was a bit difficult...trying to paint and pose at the same time. they were nice and fluid and warm hues...
The figure of my face, in the foreground. painted with studio lighting. protrayed by blue hues, colder and distorted. easier to paint and more accurate.

shoveling snow

hands grip this wooden shaft
fingers numb as we try to stay awake
feet sinking deeper
looking around for that summer sun
as it pierces through the breeze
eyes fluttering
lips creasing
hands falling
as a breath passes these dry lips
i inhale the spring air

the morning after

swallow this bitter pill
rays dancing on my desk
breezes at marys hair
metal music at my ears

swallow this pill and suffocate on it!
gag on it! cry over it!
until my body has ceased to feel
this soul has lifted beyond the skin
until the very thing that was
is no more

swallow it until the saliva dries
and nothing can grow
except this vanishing hope
that I am not what was

loving flaws

when mistakes are made and more love is given for them.

overconsumption

the love they give...i take.
glasses of golden liquid
cinnamon rays i kiss
moving images i read
all of it
i take it all for me
because i can
because you let me
because you want me