Blackout International

Living for reasons that matter (to me).

I live for:

The hope of a painful but sincere inscription etched into my soul by another.
The hope I will one day murder my inner child.
The hope I can be a carpenter, but not like Yeshua.
The hope of poems scribed in memoriam.
The hope of being witty for just one more day.
The hope that my mitochondria won't go on strike.
The hope that AIDS is a fluke.
The hope that I can die honorably.
The hope that Deepak Chopra will be proven to be full of shit.
The hope that Stephen Hawking will bang another hot nurse before he dies, and drool all over her in the process.
The hope I will help to awaken a sleeping generation.
The hope that TV will become a responsible tool again.
The hope that I won't get 10% more free with my order. Clue: It's not free.
The hope that fuzzy economics can be shorn effectively.
The hope that I can make a fur coat out of the above.
The hope of a an old peace restored, and a new hate quelled.
The hope of sanity.
The hope there is hope at all.
The hope a brain with an kill-switch. click.

Place

Place you

Place you gently

Place you gently in my sock drawer
To Save or cage, heart-blaze enrage
No parasitic phage, No 12 gauge, no slave
Crawl in with you, time stop...turn the page

Fifteen seconds to eternity
quarter minute...my infinity
All my dreams have unfurled
I have all the time in the world.

Horseback...don't look back
I'll be here if you come back
On track, stay fast, make your past
Top of your class, I see you, dear lass.

Fifteen seconds to eternity
quarter minute...my infinity
All my dreams have unfurled
I have all the time in the world.

Love Bomb.

In the past, I had focused on the darker side of relationships. In many of my posts, I had mentioned not feeling anymore, and it becoming too easy to be stoic about loss. Well, apparently, I was way off-base. I recently met someone. Someone very special. I felt feelings that were unlike even my most major relationships. I wanted to crawl into her skin, and set my heart next to hers, that they might beat together. I feel exposed...And not in a bad way. I welcome the feeling. However, I also feel something I am familiar with. The very distinct need to not let her get away. She is amazing. Far more so than anyone I have ever met. I have heard stories about situations like this. Almost fairy-tale-like. That's what concerns me. These raw emotions are stronger than they've ever been. I almost feel like I might smother her, or drive her off. I am drunk on her. I don't blame her for being careful. I am a hopeless romantic from beginning to end. Most times, in regards to romance, I am like gasoline. Flammable. I feel in this case, I am more like Uranium 238. Bomb-grade fissile material. I cannot control the reaction. Not that any of this is a bad thing; Taking risks really is the only way to succeed in life.

Breakbeat Heart (Draft 1)

Dusky initiation
Smoke-laden red-light fantasy
Sweetened by butterflies for a breakbeat heart.
Dreaming alive -
Heart-song found rythym in the bosom of another
Subtle movements -
Others' eyes confirm that ancient dance...

gentle musings, flushed faces, stolen kisses
waves of adrenaline cover them like warm caramel

The voyeur customarily recounts their tale...

Tradition as ancient as the dance itself.