Elixes

mood: really how not

music: impossible (studio)--shout out louds

i see you there with a finger wide as myth and starbright holding us in one snowy morning and for once i won't fight. here, take my ignition plugs and roadmaps, all the gallons of jet fuel we're burning, all the tracks of rail steel building fast lines through populations, pack down the pavement and draw slate and oil out of the debris to replenish the underground caverns and honor the long-dead, i don't need it anymore. for the world won't exist past my eyesight and right now that's the treeline blotted with snow and sparkling.

Tags: gods, things i do

Posted at 12:14 pm | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

Posted at 03:03 am | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: returning

music: radio/video--system of a down

come on and pack up, you old planet, it's been far too long since you orbited homeward. do you ever know where that is, or have the dizzying years scrambled everything down to molten that you believe this is it, the lonely walk through space? no i'll tell you: that galaxy out there stays up late watching the sky with warm nebulas waiting for you to show up tired of gravity and say it is time to come back to spacedust.

Tags: fantasy

Posted at 08:36 am | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

Posted at 03:04 am | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

Posted at 07:24 pm | Link | Leave a comment | 6 comments | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: quick learner

music: one--metallica

doctor presses a cold ear to his chest and stands up, eyes clear ethyl and sterile. you've got tape hiss in your blood, broken amps pumping four chambers in bass-beats, you've got bones crooked as chord progression and how are you keeping that rhythm together (because we all need a subconscious pattern of breathing). he laughed (and fedback on it) and said where have you been doc, there's no space to breathe anymore.

Tags: music, senses

Posted at 09:12 am | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: maybe i'll walk

music: new beginnings--finch

and if i say put my hand down at this i'll flatten whole mountain ranges, i'll stamp you and every last scrap of mind down to spacedust (god's got the fury of parentage helpless at children amok). you don't see it, those glasses are too think to, but the soil here is all clay and everything that grows share the pliability, i'll grip you and scrape new angular forms with maturity, marble sculptures, cold stone adults with no movement at all just to get some peace.

Tags: art, childhood, gods

Posted at 10:21 am | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: off

music: conga fury--juno reactor

behind bedroom doors he's put the last peaks on his mountain ranges and sprinkles snow stolen from the icebox (you never saw him sneak away from dinner). because even if he speaks in seven year old handwriting there's more black than ever should be and it all says if you won't spint he world then he will make his own. one night the floorboards creak slightly, like a weight lifted away, and in the morning your boy is gone with a wisp of tissue paper clouds left behind.

Tags: childhood, fantasy, gods

Posted at 09:52 am | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: break out

music: who am i--peace orchestra

how else would you expect it--mountaintop stalking and moonlit eyes (gone goblinwide in experimentation, blink with teeth grinning new sights)? you should know that these things move shadow to shadow up and through on quick mosquito feet, wide plague steps with footsteps of gasping and then it swings back to the sky, moves further.

Tags: blergh, senses

Posted at 09:48 am | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

Posted at 03:01 am | Link | Leave a comment | 2 comments | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: warm

music: face in the sand--iron maiden

birds on the windowsill with hairthin beaks and shivering wings, scooped up from the stillfallen snowbanks and held with body heat; they have reedy voices like fresh chimes and a weeping too old to count "i'm so cold, so cold." but ny hands are going to frostbite and i don't know how long they will still give warmth so i say my breath is still warm, i'll keep alive as long as i do.

Tags: death, fantasy, from others

Posted at 09:35 am | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

Posted at 03:01 am | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: mapmaker

music: smashers&mashers--bassnectar

and he whispered see i know what's still alive around here see i hear your breathing up there man of the mountains (who grinned cragged smiles and sheepish chalk deposit shrugs) i hear your icewater heartbeats so tell me why are you still holding your breath? the mountain spoke in sinkhole timbre and tiny tree creaking (for it still puffed its cheeks like ruddy schoolboy foolery) and said take your hearing and listen for anyone else alive, you'll know i'm the last.

Tags: weather

Posted at 11:23 am | Link | Leave a comment | 2 comments | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

Posted at 03:01 am | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: well now

music: run to the hills--iron maiden

ascribers know we were still in the seventh day of rest but that didn't stop me from launching foilpaper planes into the skies with my wishes tied in wind flapping knots. maybe it's some human urge to carry messages where we can't walk but i caved and balled up and wrote everything onto long slips rolled up and tucked inside bottles. later i will tie them to bricks because apparently he's a heavy sleeper.

Tags: gods

Posted at 08:44 am | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

Posted at 03:01 am | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: oh i see the end

music: heat--apocalyptica

maybe i will take these characters to the street and leave them overnight, like the lost hobbies i carried around as a child and needed to slough off when i grew lean with colleges and age. i said survive on your own, i'll teach you how to cup your hands together and screw faces into sadness (good at that) but no more. in the morning i'll pull who survives and cover the others with newspapers and a few pennies for whatever boatman they prayed to.

Tags: things i do, writing

Posted at 08:29 am | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

Posted at 03:02 am | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: making lists

music: voice of dissent--flesh field

he said i don't know how to put this all back together (god stole a few puzzle pieces and snickered behind the couch). all our cities went upside and flat with broken teeth and raw edges warped with atomic heat and all shades of brown and red look like the others. get me the box, let me remember what civilization looked like before, we'll piece what we can (it wasn't so pretty in the first place, anyways).

Tags: apocalypse, gods

Posted at 10:08 am | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: this to that

music: not godlike--godkomplex

i can hear your traincars from miles away because they whispered can-on-a-string down the rails and into the waiting stations with rusted steam roars and great whistling mountains erupting across all the plains and vast empties that we have all avoided for one reason or another. we cross them like ocean chasms, feeling the depths beneath us, turning around and whistling low and saying "i'm the only one out here, truly."

Tags: from others, industry

Posted at 08:40 am | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend