okay, maybe one more...

King Saul fell on his sword when it all went wrong,
And Joseph's brothers sold him down the river for a song,
And Sonny Liston rubbed some tiger balm into his glove;
Some things you do for money, and some you do for love, love, love.
Raskolnikov felt sick, but he couldn't say why,
When he saw his face reflected in his victim's twinkling eye.
Some things you'll do for money, and some you'll do for fun,
But the things you do for love are gonna come back to you one by one.
Love, love is gonna lead you by the hand
Into a white and soundless place.
Now we see things as in a mirror, dimly.
Then we shall see each other face to face.
Way out in Seattle, young Kurt Cobain snuck out to the greenhouse
And put a bullet in his brain.
Snakes in the grass beneath our feet, rain in the clouds above.
Some moments last forever, some flare out with love, love, love.

just one more

From the housetops to the gutters; from the ocean to the shore,
The warning signs have all been bright and garish, and far too great in number to ignore.
From the cities to the swamplands, from the highways to the hills,
Our love has never had a leg to stand on,
From the aspirins, to the cross-tops, to the elavils.
But I will walk down to the end with you
If you will come all the way down with me.
From the entrance to the exit is longer than it looks from where we stand.
I wanna say I'm sorry for stuff I haven't done yet.
Things will shortly get completely out of hand,
I can feel it in the rotten air tonight;
In the tips of my fingers, in the skin on my face;
In the weak, last gasp of the evening's dying light,
In the way those eyes I've always loved illuminate this place
Like a trash can fire in a prison cell;
Like the searchlights in the parking lots of Hell.
I will walk down to the end with you if you will come all the way down with me.

The music that thoroughly sets my innermost moods...

I hope that our few remaining friends give up on trying to save us.
I hope we come up with a fail-safe plot to piss off the dumb few that forgave us.
I hope the fences we mended fall down beneath their own weight.
And I hope we hang on past the last exit.
I hope it's already too late.
I hope the junk yard a few blocks from here someday burns down.
And I hope the rising black smoke carries me far away, and I never come back to this town again.
In my life, I hope I lie, and tell everyone you were a good wife.
And I hope you die. I hope we both die.
I hope I cut myself shaving tomorrow; I hope it bleeds all day long.
Our friends say it's darkest before the sun rises; we're pretty sure they're all wrong.
I hope it stays dark forever.
I hope the worst isn't over.
I hope you blink before I do.
I hope I never get sober.
And I hope when you think of me years down the line, you can't find one good thing to say.
And I hope that if I found the strength to walk out, you'd stay the hell out of my way.
I am drowning.
There is no sign of land.
You are coming down with me, hand-in-unlovable-hand.
And I hope you die.
I hope we both die.

dying wishes

so for the past few days I've spent a lot of time thinking about death. Not because I want to die, just because of certain events bringing it to mind. If you know me, you already know I want all evidence of my existence destroyed; but that's not all. When I die, if I die young, I want to be painted as my god form, placed in my best suit, and put in a room with my closest friends. Beav is to play "Evil Will Prevail" by the Flaming Lips; if I fail to come back to life, I wish to be incinerated with my closest possessions. If at all possible (and I will attempt to arrange this myself), I want my ashes sent into outer space on the next space flight by NASA or any other country's space administration; once in space I want my ashes released into the vast, cold darkness so that I may wander the universe in everlasting peace. But if that doesn't work, I want to either be sprinkled on Serj Tankian's lawn or just rested somewhere cool that I would enjoy... maybe with the weeping vine... I just don't want to sit in a jar on someone's mantle, not even for one minute. Peace, love, and understanding. -AK.

Dakota

YOU ARE LIFE.

AND IN YOU, I BREATHE.

OUR MINDS CIRCULATE VIGOROUSLY THROUGHOUT,
OUR RAPID HEARTS BEATING, SHIVERING.

A NERVOUS NIGHT WE SHARED
THAT WE VOWED WE WOULD RELIVE
IF EVER WE HAD THE CHANCE.

OUR FIRST NIGHT TOGETHER,
AS ONE SOUL, ONE BODY.

I CANNOT FIND WORDS DEEP ENOUGH
TO EXPRESS THE LOVE ENTRANCED
BETWEEN THE TWO OF US,
WAY BACK WHEN.

BACK IN DAKOTA.

been off for a while

but things tend to spin that way... starting up writing again... check up on my short story page occasionally.... earnyourstripes-ak.blogspot.com

let's call it canticle

bring me sanity,
bring me peace,
bring me rest and bring me leisure.

give me tomorrow
or even next week,
give me nothing or give me forever.

calm your sorrows,
dry your tears,
stand back up and let me guide you.
and it's been almost twenty years
yet there's still no soul inside you.

so after nothing, I might have found
that love is just a notion,
but without love and peace and grace
the earth might cease its motion.

the thought that I may not exist
is enough to make you scream,
but the day you die, you'll awake to find
it was nothing but a dream.

so let us sing this canticle
and live on, merrily;
because, real or not, I'm more than content
In my reverie.