ALIEN LANDSCAPE
Author : NHJ
MSN: crescent_cage@hotmail.com
email : spherickey@gmail.com
Other Blogsites
MRH
Yeoks
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Iskandar
PostSecret
echoncyllan
Before Gargoyle
One Million Footnotes
Read My Poetry.
Playing:
Between the Bars (Elliott Smith Cover) by Metric
Friday, May 27, 2005
Van Winkles
i smiled at the kings of sorrow and felt my face crack as they reached to touch me. so i went to seek comfort from a sunflower. but i couldn't find her among the dying queens in their green cloaks or among their radiant daughters in green woolen turtlenecks.
so i dug me a hole beneath them where i laid waiting for you. and i closed my eyes, intending to wake up fifty years later--a Rita Van Winkle--to find you breathing beside me with a soft muzzle of white and a grand crown made of clouds. i dreamt that you would smell just like the sky as you always do and that we would wake up fearless as a doomed star. but i woke up to find a new day; to find that i am still a foal and you still far away.
Posted by NHJ 5/27/2005 08:28:00 pm
Thursday, May 26, 2005
the pillow that ate a city
contrary to Sylvia Plath's "...very still and very empty, the way the eye of a tornado must feel, moving dully along in the middle of the surrounding hullabaloo", i feel apocalyptic like whirling shards of dust moving in dizzying repitition of upward and downward spirals of decay surrounding deafening dullness and infinite incontinuity.
my shouting at brown house lizards when they tittered at me at night has ceased because they always stop when i do. the happy evil of what that suggests keeps me mum at night. it was just cowardice that kept me immobile and vigil in bed, suppressing the maddenning urge to get up and switch the lights on and off repeatedly and cackling defiantly at them brown evil freaks.
but i must be doing something wrong again because i hear traffic in my pillow and the lizards started to grow shadows and they flitted fleetingly at the corner of my eyes. i just knew it was going to be another sleep filled with vivid beautiful dreams which end in grayness and mockery when pillows learn to murmur and seduce and swallow a city whole.
it was.
Posted by NHJ 5/26/2005 02:30:00 pm
Sunday, May 15, 2005
everything seemingly presents itself in the form of written words and suspended animation.
and.
it is very moronic and pathetic to look to downcast rejects and think "i'll love you. me. me. me."
Posted by NHJ 5/15/2005 05:24:00 pm
Saturday, May 14, 2005
the ironic anchor
recently sleep never comes without realisation and acceptance that tomorrow might very well be my death day. it's this increasing paranoia that some disease is contaminating me or that i have been and am still under a perpetual bad spell which leaves me vulnerable to falling anvils and lightning bolts that strike twice.
surprisingly it is not like what i think it is, this death business [gasp! i said the B word!]. it wasn't like before; cold shivers and swirling mummified corpses.
it was the serenity of an end of one thing and the nervous anticipation of the birth of another. it was like packing suitcases in preparation for a permanent hiatus. or an eternal journey. or something like that. then there is the strong pull and hold of the people i have to leave where the heart is yanked and trapped in a possessive grip.
the gentle prod of death has therefore taught me to weave grief into intelligible patterns and use it as a blanket for my night worries. thick, stifling, yet an ironically firm anchor to my earthbound existence.
Posted by NHJ 5/14/2005 08:03:00 pm
Monday, May 09, 2005
Salamander showed me the best hiding place for hide-and-seek. i won't tell you where it is. but it's so good that children who go and hide themselves there refuse to ever be found. and i won't be found.
Posted by NHJ 5/09/2005 11:28:00 pm
i saw a neat and tidy boy with thick glasses. he was clasping hands with a girl who was bigger with long lifeless hair and a tired face. they were sitting in front of me, hands twined together like brambles. the boy then started tapping his clean fingers on his lover's hands while a smile began playing on his lips. both of their eyes then closed and i watched them disintegrate and disappear. it was most beautiful.
Posted by NHJ 5/09/2005 11:07:00 pm
Sunday, May 08, 2005
so i asked him at the end of the day: did you leave anything of yours with me?
and he smiled and said: my heart.
only my Fir would get away with that kind of cliche without being shot with a well aimed sarcasm arrowstrike. because i love him. and i do have his annoyingly enthusiastic rainbow-pulsing impossibly wishful heart.
sometimes he seems to me like one of those cheerful skipping pixies fallen out of an Enid Blyton story which has a ridiculously obvious moral.
Posted by NHJ 5/08/2005 06:21:00 pm
