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[03 Oct 2004|09:41am] |
Sunday, October 3rd 2004
at 317 grove st - Montclair, NJ
in the face of war
remember van gogh
bulletisme
mosher
show starts at 2:00 and costs 2 bucks
if u dont know what we sound like listen to mp3's http://www.hxcmp3.com/remember_van_gogh
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[13 Feb 2004|07:49pm] |
here's one of my favorite poems. it's written by an awesome poet named Toni Blackman and from her book "Inner-course: a plea for REAL LOVE". enjoy:)
chloe
i hate valentine's day
it's nothing personal against
cupid or the little curly haired
girl on cards and decorations
i definitely don't have anything
against chocolate candy, roses
or the color red
it's just that like so many
other holidays it feeds on the
loneliness of the always consuming
consumer
valentine's day is big business
in america
and ain't nothing to do with love
two too many fall prey to the hype
getting trapped in crowded rooms
full of nothing no one, but
a temporary fix for what's
really ailing them
this let me give you some loving
once a year thing just does not fly
i prefer people who make me smile every day
and who is this mr. valentine's
and why is cupid naked
and who wants to be shot with a damn
bow and arrow
does anyone know or
does it even matter
i mean, we're all suckers anyway
celebrating holidays and days that
don't move us forward
riding emotional ferris wheels
going round and round
and we pay people to sit there
this poem is a cry a plea
love is not to be bought or sold
it's like air and water
a necessity
stuck in the air
sun and wind in our eyes
we cannot see
because we're looking
for love
in all the wrong places
in all the wrong spaces
instead of in our own faces
-Toni Blackman
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| Girl friend |
[12 Jan 2004|09:04pm] |
I sat in much the same position I usually do when I’m thinking. Really just torturing myself without resolving anything. I’m afraid my emotions show far too much on my face and everyone can tell how miserable I am. But I stopped caring that others could read me, if I ever did.
Leaning on my left shoulder is my girl friend. Not my actual girlfriend, but a girl friend. Even with as depressed and unwanted as I feel, I will admit to myself that she wants more than friendship from me. But to me, it just wouldn’t be right, Perhaps we’re only bonded by our mutual past heartbreak and disgust with the inhumanity of each other’s gender. I’m afraid after we get past that; they’ll be nothing else we have. And then there’s no turning back.
But she has emerged as really a good friend, the only one with whom I can talk about the only really important thing that bugs me: my ex-girlfriend. The one with whom I conversely love and hate, and often both at the same time. Whichever the emotion, I can’t get her out of my system.
My friend has sensed my sudden withdrawal from the world. “Are you okay?” she asks. “No,” I respond.
I’ve never cried in front of another person besides my mom when I was little. And it does actually get some things out of me and make things better. Certainly talking to my friend here is making me feel more positive that I can get over this girl. But I know another image of my ex will pop into my head, and the knot in my stomach that had just been loosened, will violently jerk tighter.
I could keep talking to this friend about everything I’ve been feeling for hours. I’ve begun to hate time by myself with a passion, yet I hate being mopey around people. I lack the strength to feign enjoyment. It’s too bad I don’t drink, and I don’t want to add to the teen suicide rate. And imagine how bad that would make my ex-girlfriend feel. I don’t want her to be unhappy. I think.
My friend nestles closer. She wants me to put my arm around her, but that’s not going to happen. “Are you really okay?” she says sweetly. “No,” I murmur, my voice barely audible, and not at all sure of itself. She kisses me on the cheek. She is a good friend.
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[24 Oct 2003|09:39pm] |
Emergency
There’s a sign on the window
“Emergency Egress”
stuck onto the window
a clear sticker with bright
red lettering, bold
Like the leaves on the autumn trees
Blowing outside in the wind.
Free.
I wish I was there but I am here instead
Here in a room where I could
cut the tension and nerves with the red
Swiss Army Knife that I have in my
big red bag sitting on the cold floor next to me
Outside of the dingy white walls
And broken tile floors
from the scratched and tattooed wooden tables
and the impersonal and harsh fluorescent light,
The sun shines brightly
through the crowns of the trees
Trying to shine through
Dusty windows
To get to me
I can see the dark wooden trunks of trees
with their twisted branches reaching toward me
Like an old friend
waiting to embrace me, comfort me, love me
underneath the brightly colored trees
swimming in warm sunlight and cool breeze
Forever.
A Superior War
war beats in our blood
screaming, fighting, dying
we like pretty colors
bomb goes BOOM with its orange explosion
and suddenly cities are gone
countries vanish
poof
in our shadow
Look at our boys over there
Fighting shooting stabbing jabbing
will he, at 18, live to see 19?
will he die before his father,
his grandfather?
And when they come home
And if they come home
How long will it be before the next
The next “Bon Voyage”
The next list of names
Collateral Damage.
Where will the next death camp be built?
Next door to me?
Oh, no!
Well, if it’s not next door to me
If I can’t see it It’s not happening
Right?
Author's Note: The next poem, titled Snapple was inspired by my choice to write about the next thing that my right hand touched, mostly cuz I was bored as hell in my Wells 101 class. That's why it got written. Enjoy!
Snapple
sweet and bitter
liquid
brown
I can feel it in
my throat as it goes on down
leaves my lip sticky
my tongue parched and
dry
It takes so long
for a second
To go by
It doesn’t move like molasses
Or drip like honey
Or crunchy, an apple
More like lemon
More like tea
“Real Brewed” Lemon Snapple
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[22 Oct 2003|10:56pm] |
more poems..
College
judging by numbers
it seems you fail,
he said this to me while kissing
another girl hard on the mouth.
Multi-tasking.
But she
I said
Passes. She looks away from him and smiles.
Of course.
Untitled
write
analyze
criticize
change
same tedious process
but I want to stand out
how does one do that
in an individualistic crowd?
My greasy body leaves lines on the ground where I walk
A constant slimy trail
Such as that of a snail
A slug trudging along all its life on the ground
And you are my salt
I decompose for only you
You and time
Time and God
But then
Who is to say
What is God to me may not be God to you
And vice versa
Sometimes I let my sentences run free
And long
Sometimes I trap them with terminal caesurae
Terminal on the IV pumping life into their veins
Sometimes nothing comes out
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| yes I'm RAHTHAH AHTSY tonight |
[22 Oct 2003|10:54pm] |
count
one. two. three. with
you and I in lines
and lines
on dark nights
with sharp wind
blowing the smoke away whip whoosh off our voices
down the street
with the leaves in
waves and circles.
us in lines.
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[22 Oct 2003|10:48pm] |
the grass keeps growing
oh so slowly
even under the piles of snow
will I be growing
oh so slowly
learning things I already know?
and how quietly and calmly
life blows by
the sun beats down on all of these:
the people the cars the dandelions
the squirrels and many trees
I suppose we'll always be here
pushing up and falling in
and every day is the same end
and every day
we renew
begin
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[22 Oct 2003|04:34pm] |
Hi guys... I just joined. Here's the first poem I've written in... ages...:
Red Snow
Dark and dreary I sit on my bed
Words echo in my head I remember how I used to be
This place has gotten the best of me Or has he?
Him with his tall and long pose Out of a magazine
For ugly people Where only I see the beauty
That lies
Within.
Here I sit A bare light bulb in a string of Christmas lights
Colorful
Dancing.
A flutter of everything that he sees as beautiful
And
I
Sit
Alone and trying to paint myself colorful
And I try to dance but I fall and shatter
Into a million pieces
Which he does not even notice as he steps on me
And I cut his feet.
Bloody footprints away from me He does not see the red
(unless, of course, if the red is her lips) He sees only her
Now I am only a bloody mass of
Broken glass
Bare and alone on the floor
In the dark.
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[21 Oct 2003|10:33pm] |
well then I
walk with you
your jacket on your shoulders and the space between your pants and your shoes with your socks showing
and I never thought I could like skinny boys
smart boys
but here you are, with your silly hair (and my silly hair)
and your pale skin (and my pale skin)
and think that maybe something behind your eyes (two of them, like mine)
could hold hands with something inside of me, too.
and I let the opportunities slip like paper (like mine)
and I guess I'll never know.
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[10 Oct 2003|11:04pm] |
another fleeting fancy
Untitled
I wish that I could disappear into your lips
Vanish between gentle folds in your gentle skin
To draw attention away from my
Dependence on sweet words, candy dripping from your mouth
To deflect away my exuberance
For your rhythmic breaths
And to divert away your eyes from my
Proximity to your kiss
I live there, nonetheless
And to be hidden would be a priceless comfort
I <3 comments, especially because this may wiggle into a college portfolio... speak up! :)
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[02 Oct 2003|04:59pm] |
hey guys! here 2 poems that have been going through my head and i just recently got down on paper. i was inspired by toni blackman's new book "innercourse: a plea for real love". she's a kick ass poet who i saw @ the dodge poetry festival last year. i def. recommend you pick up her book. you wont regret it.
these poems they're not done and really rough nad im def. looking for suggestions/commetns, so comment and let me know what u think. anyway on with the poems
chloe:)
------------------
interior monologue
------------------
you
you sure got me this time
one look
one word
one thought
and im gone
f
a
l
l
i
n'
into you
and that smile that goes on for miles and miles
keeps me mesmerized
from that gleam in your eyez
the ones that took me by suprise
lock me in
they won't let go
now i'm drifting on your rock and roll
i watch the words spill out your mouth
smoothly
e f f o r t l e s s l y
you tell me things i already know
but from u they're new
full of this passion i've never seen
and want to know
and feel
and be
with you
but hey, that's just me.
-------------
firecracker
-------------
are you really here for me?
how do I kno that you won't slip back away, that this isn't like "last time"?
'cuz see-
i'm like a firecracker
in high heels.
where will you be when i
e
x
p
l
o
d
e
?
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| this is... something. i don't know; but i like it! |
[24 Sep 2003|09:02pm] |
Dance with me
Just your and my souls
I speak my mind – whisper in your ear
It doesn’t suffice
And you speak yours
Whole and beautiful
And I fall in
Deeper and deeper still
I can’t bear your rejection
It makes me fall further
Just hush
Let me be in awe
At you – skin and bones
That form something so
Wonderful almost impossible
Seeing is believing
You – this shrine to femininity
To be accepted by the woman
Let into her cradle
To be held there by loving arms
And bask in the warmth the love
I lay in your love and tenderness
Softness and compassion
And you can reside in my sturdy grasp
Be sheltered and anchored
We become this perfect sphere
With no fault line
No part farthest from the core
Invincible to all obstacles
Invincible
to fate, even
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[23 Sep 2003|07:21pm] |
chase, maybe you should do some hosting on here
and like, have everyone update with something in here at least once a week
and people will voice their opinions and be active or be left out.
and it will become this community of writers and artists
and we respond to each other and are active.
and it will be cooler in here.
and to make this something.
take THIS!
( i call it... finally, acure for smelly vagina?Collapse )
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[22 Sep 2003|09:53pm] |
with my head on the ground
and my feet in the air
trying this trick, and spinnin
yeah
and i come a'crashin down
every time every day
like clockwork, tickin
yeah
but ask me where i'll be tomorrow
and i'll never say, never never say
with my head on the ground
and my feet in the air
my legs up, and spinnin
yeah
who can say who i'll be around
that day, and what effect they'll have
cause no one's accurate, in predictin
yeah
where is my mind
i just can't see, from my serpant of a tongue
and what's on my tongue is true
but don't be afraid to run for a while
it's nothing more than what you hear
yeah
for all you know ill take off too
runnin here in this wrong way race
don't forget i'll be right here
yeah
so ask me where i'll be tomorrow
ill tell you, "spinnin right here by you!"
turn me up,
or turn me down
any way you put me
my love is all around
now the ground is up
and the sky is down
and what i say with a smile
is said with a frown
where is my mind
it's a'spinnin right here, next to you
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[22 Sep 2003|06:14pm] |
haven't posted here in awhile, so i guess i'll post something to make this all more lively. this is a poem i wrote, and - i really don't like it right now. normally i don't revise my poetry but this was not so much an attempt at poetry as it was simply jotting down sequential thoughts. any suggestions as to how to improve this and make it into an actual poem - how to structure it better, change certain words - would be appreciated, though i can't say i will listen to any of them.
/
you wrote me letters
- and i could taste every word with
the tip of my tongue.
i still remember how they
taste, those sweetghosts.
you press newspaper clippings from
long ago - cigarette teeth,
and rose petals between pages -
into my eyes now.
you are whitewashed and soon
obliterated in those photographs
glossed like sweat.
every morning red lettering in
perfect figures tattoos itself to my eyelids
- divebombing reality, we do.
i brush my teeth
and these dark circles under my
eyes seem worthy of
patient sighs, parted thighs
(a breathlessness at night)
but i brush my teeth, i spit -
am clean of you, your rough taste.
until night / again i trace
those letters and in
the darkness
- they burn.
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[21 Sep 2003|05:19pm] |
im sorry for the world
the dinosaurs roamed the earth
the sky turned black
and when the dust rolled back
man roamed the ground
built civilizations all around
they constantly gave birth
their numbers gained girth
they crossed the sea
wondering what they'd see
they developed with haste
and now were in this place
im sorry for the way
i seem to end every damned day
but please don't place the blame
im no longer the same
move on and enhance
i need a second chance
it'll be better this run
when finally down comes the sun
don't let this day
go down that way
im sorry for the world
and that the dinosaurs roamed the earth
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| i wrote this for someone |
[21 Sep 2003|04:54pm] |
The nights get cold
The days get shorter
The school year is dawning
The summer is over
As time goes on
I've lost sight of you
All I have left,
Is the mere memory
A picture of,
your hands, your face
Every inch of your soul
and your warm embrace
The summer has ended
But I can assure you this
I never can forget
A single moment of this bliss,
So hold me close
Don't say goodbye
I'll just listen to your breathing
because this is the last time
I can ever hear such a sweet lullaby
ok im putting this in this and my regular journal
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[21 Sep 2003|02:15pm] |
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hey i just joined..my names louisa, im 13, from montclair NJ..i dont really write seriously i just kinda screw around..most of my writing is shit but some of it's pretty good..ill put something up later..i dont have a camera at the moment :-( but i should be getting one so when I do I'll put up some pictures I get
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| GUYS |
[18 Sep 2003|05:51pm] |
Ok guys, we are officially re-opening PluralEchoes. Begin posting things there again. LOL, it kinda died last time, because... i failed as a moderator for a bit, i'm sorry.... but we're trying again. so post stuff. I will be soon. Also, increased efforts on feedback will be apprieciated, i was looking through the wealth of poetry that was posted, and it's all good, and suprising... so. go back. look. post. join. it was a good thing, for a while, i'm trying to bring it back. help me.
Please.
Join, if you haven't.
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