February 2012
52 posts
Sondre Lerche // (you knocked me) of my feet
When people ask me to tell them whats on my mind. I always draw a blank. I always leave it hanging on hinges, teetering between ideas and knowing that I’ll never say exactly what they want me to say, because what’s on your mind is always a greedy question, always a quiet hope that someone out there will be thinking of you, wishing for you, minding — for you. But it’s always rare that two people...
let the rain, surround us.
let the postures betray, betray us.
Let the moist, fingertips
migrate to destination. destination.
I touch inner souls
displayed in veins.
Intwined, intwined in a meadow.
Skin, it grows, it grows, it grows
around the veins, around the veins, around the veins.
Its a masterpiece pulling at my hair
your pulling my hair into the earth.
The blood, the blood,
...
My new sounds:
In that song about possibilities, someone is hurling an empty bottle skyward. I see you: You’re imagining it slowing towards its peak,
anticipating gravity, its ruthless duty. Stop. Don’t. Let’s go. Let’s not be around when it shatters. Let’s not wait for an ending.
i am a fountain of blood. in the shape of a girl.
i am a grateful… grapefruit.
I had the strangest experience yesterday. My mind began wondering on its own, without my control, to places and thoughts I have tried to forget. This one in particular striked me. I was fifteen years old, my brother and sister at the time had just run away from home. Things were getting worse, as they always did when we got older. I’m actually pretty surprised I dont have an extreme fear of...
I’ve learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way (s)he handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights.
It is the mind which creates the world about us, and even though we stand side by side in the same meadow, my eyes will never see what is beheld by yours.
On the scales of desire, your absence weighs more than someone else’s presence, so I say no thanks
to the woman who throws her girdle at my feet, as I dropp a postcard in the mailbox and watch it
throb like a blue heart in the dark. Your eyes are so green – one of your parents must be
part traffic light. We’re both self-centered, but the world revolves around us at the same speed.
Last...
swear and shake- for better, for worse.
my mind is a warrior,
my heart is a foriegner,
my eyes are the color of red like a sunsettttt.
Last night when you called I told you I was happy, which was true, but thinking ahead
I could be unhappy, too, if that’s what you wanted. I could be any of a lot of things: a wrist, a ghost, a harbor, a rope. I could
be the one who doesn’t know the language. I could be the reason they take you first. I could be the last person to see you alive.
twisted wandering stars, listen!
I’ve looked into a placid lake and I’ve watched as the stars rippled and drowned at the edge of my fingertips.
Here is what December has taught me:
You can’t touch the sky and expect it to stay the night.
Say hello to all the apples on the ground They were once in your eyes but you sneezed them out while sleeping Say hello to everything you’ve left behind It’s even more a part of your life now that you can’t touch it
i want to light someone on fire with the last cigarette on earth.
I sit here, an arch-villain of romance, thinking about you. Gee, I’m sorry I made you unhappy, but there was nothing I could do about it because I have to be free. Perhaps everything would have been different if you had stayed at the table or asked me to go out with you to look at the moon, instead of getting up and leaving me alone with her.
— “The Moon Versus Us Ever Sleeping Together...
i want to eat insanity for breakfast
You were last seen walking through a field of pianos. No. A museum of mouths. In the kitchen of a bustling restaurant, cracking eggs and releasing doves. No. Eating glow worms and waltzing past my bedroom. Last seen riding the subway, literally, straddling its metal back, clutching electrical cables as reins. You were wearing a dress made out of envelopes and stamps, this was how you...
Happy Ending
After they had not made love she pulled the sheet up over her eyes until he was unbottoning his shirt: not shyness for their bodies-those they had willingly displayed-but a frail endeavour to apologise.
Later, though, drawn together by a distaste for such ‘untidy ends’ they agreed to meet again; whereupon they giggled, reminisced, held hands as though what they had made...
careers advisor: what do you want to do when you’re older? me: middle aged british actors careers advisor: what me: what
My new sounds:
My new sounds: