Tala
i picked her up with a white towel shaped like the veil that cast the longest shadow.
light as a feather, as fragile as a bee.
it took all my strength not to squash her inside tongues rolling in fire, holding my breath as it breathed precariously close to a seaside residue
overtaking that of whatever fortitude i had in mind.
i tried to find why her left eye was somewhere else.
blind as a bat, blind as a rat, blind as a cat.
blind as a cat.
trip over moons. flip over lagoons and get that cow down here. breasts and breasts.
laid in unrests.
Jesus has fucked up yet again.
it couldn't open its eyes. it could of course, make the sound cats make with different levels of affection, of loss, waiting for whistles that
hatch in midsummer day, conditioning the notion that somewhere
mothers suckle at something else.
it made its way up my shirt, talons in a heartfelt fury for anything that required nothing less that the offer of attention; hear the roar of its little
grunts, hearing different patterns that mouth in my belly like synchronized pangs of guilt and passion.
its chest pounded up and down the stairs while it beat down my aging heart, crumpling in a sack of knees and beats that
have eruded over
countless journeys into the abyss, awaiting the spasm of choked
foliage
apathetic to itself because God's green earth seems to be based on something
of a deeper shade of shit.
it fell, right into me and i took it into my arms as we sped our way down the fastest route of love, when even mountains and caverns bow
down to the power that this eruption cannot hold, swallowing each and every microcosm that the world can ever provide.
it was between us and the world baby, and i couldn't wait because i waited
the entire fallout of the sun for this very
moment.
i cradled life like i cradled life and wished that this moment was never born nor will ever end
because true enough, i would only fall deeper, deeper and deeper into its closed eyes,
its dirtied face, the clumps of crap that seemed to have embeded themselves to its skin, how intoxicatingly
beautiful this fragile piece of eternity was, hearing me as i screamed for mercy and forgiveness,
hoping against hope that somewhere in the big black sky,
an eye was staring into that streak of red lightning barging into the heavy night, looking for a place to stay
while the world sat idly by, kicking itself in the nuts holding pee in and never letting go of the feeling of being fucked.
we made it, into the steps of sanctuary,
sneaking past the most massive assholes one will ever see, ready to suck you in like a black hole that has no mass, just pure energy
that relegates itself for the destruction of others and dying silently as they move to and fro the universe, not having any light of day
nor darkness of a moonlit night.
romance be damned, condemn the beasts that ensnared us into the useless hooligans we never could be.
it arrived, was placed in a box that cannot contain its beauty, its paradoxical naiveness. the breasts and the breasts.
tired. gangly and gargling for air from a sea of placid anarchy.
it went this way and that, held itself in a moment that even the air stooped to let its flight of feet come together and create the most beautiful
two-step dance that would even make stradivarius cry out in agony, simply because the
somber, simple parameters of such unequalled taste and circumstance float off into the yellow
universe holding an angle that made the stars run away from embarassment.
even the sun was not worthy of the time of such delicacy.
the time even came when i sat, stood, squatted, never noticing how i withdrew from the world to come to
its loving void, it came from pieces unfit.
i had to wait, serve and protect, collect and interpret placing her onto the box that once held so much, now looking so little, not even caring what that little whore in the bathroom wall would say when
i mistook her shoe for a clue.
then the moment subsided and it was time for bed.
radical !!!!!!!!! she was placed in a place only a few were
dared allowed not because she wanted it, but because she deserved it. it couldn't have been any other. the
weather was conclusive and the hearth frothed over with the love felt. in the morning, it came, the sense of purity that
cannot be held back by pulleys or battering rams, that which cannot be savored by a million taste buds nor digested by eighty-three stomachs.
in the instant that milk poured from my breast, onto a plastic container that contained my hopes and dreams, the ones made by sugar-coated daffodils and heavy fluffy machinated clouds, Tala, for that is her
name,
opened her eye.
the right one.
and into it i saw how beautiful life has become, extraordinary in its becoming and in its most sacred
joint, my soul seemed to have found its way scampering for a place in that face, going for glory
and losing all control.
strangers in love, i have become its most treasured possesion, Tala my most important perrogative.
and in a width of a stretched finger, our simple truths merged into something bigger.
Tala tried to climb into my hair, trying to find my heart, hoping to puncture it and erase itself from my memories, from my outpouring
bigotry and still she grew fonder of me, because she couldn't find where she was and i was staring at her the
entire time waiting for a way to tell her that everything will be alright, how i promised her that dandelions would never even get a chance to kill her with their rotting blades, and that in a labyrinth of wicked brackisness,
i would be there with her, screaming through tears and unwavering dedication that the place for her was beside me.
i promised her a world that could be seen through the right eye.
but again, fate plays like the manic mechanic from downtown that wanted to tinker with my stolen machinery, that fucking faggot that couldn't even flatulate in my face, but can clearly shit all over my bedroom floor.
revenge. the night wore on and amidst my howling....
i lost my beloved cat. Tala rejoined the beauty lost to everyone else, thanking me perhaps for giving her a chance to shine even without the
glow of her whiskers that pounced on my face with such blessedness that i could have cried
have i not noted that there would be others.
i feel the weight on my shoulders, how stupid i really was, assholes surrounding the star and
corrupting her naivete ways. it dawned on my starlit pinnacle of canvas that i knew would end but not now, hopefully not now.
but then, i was wishing to a star eaten already by the belief that i never placed much hope
on its travel as it shot towards eternity.
i hope that as she returned to the millions of torrid blanketed beauties, she would remember even for a whisper,
it was i who gave her flight.
for a beloved, a beloved was lost, and never again will i entrust whatever i hold dear onto hands that never understand how i have developed
into an unfolding mass of blight and contempt.
silver that kills werewolves, that stalks purses with clubs and rainmakers. for a piece of peace to please
the peas.
i go onto the covers wishing for Tala's safety. perhaps when i look high, she will smile upon thee
with her crooked face,
a melted cheek filled with tar and sand, hair matted by paste and glue, a hardened head from bruises that forged
her infetisimal body , i, wishing for rest for a lovely alley cat that only wanted to see
how beautiful the sky could be.
into the night, from silver breasts, i gave her flight.
30 - aug - 2006 3:05 am
light as a feather, as fragile as a bee.
it took all my strength not to squash her inside tongues rolling in fire, holding my breath as it breathed precariously close to a seaside residue
overtaking that of whatever fortitude i had in mind.
i tried to find why her left eye was somewhere else.
blind as a bat, blind as a rat, blind as a cat.
blind as a cat.
trip over moons. flip over lagoons and get that cow down here. breasts and breasts.
laid in unrests.
Jesus has fucked up yet again.
it couldn't open its eyes. it could of course, make the sound cats make with different levels of affection, of loss, waiting for whistles that
hatch in midsummer day, conditioning the notion that somewhere
mothers suckle at something else.
it made its way up my shirt, talons in a heartfelt fury for anything that required nothing less that the offer of attention; hear the roar of its little
grunts, hearing different patterns that mouth in my belly like synchronized pangs of guilt and passion.
its chest pounded up and down the stairs while it beat down my aging heart, crumpling in a sack of knees and beats that
have eruded over
countless journeys into the abyss, awaiting the spasm of choked
foliage
apathetic to itself because God's green earth seems to be based on something
of a deeper shade of shit.
it fell, right into me and i took it into my arms as we sped our way down the fastest route of love, when even mountains and caverns bow
down to the power that this eruption cannot hold, swallowing each and every microcosm that the world can ever provide.
it was between us and the world baby, and i couldn't wait because i waited
the entire fallout of the sun for this very
moment.
i cradled life like i cradled life and wished that this moment was never born nor will ever end
because true enough, i would only fall deeper, deeper and deeper into its closed eyes,
its dirtied face, the clumps of crap that seemed to have embeded themselves to its skin, how intoxicatingly
beautiful this fragile piece of eternity was, hearing me as i screamed for mercy and forgiveness,
hoping against hope that somewhere in the big black sky,
an eye was staring into that streak of red lightning barging into the heavy night, looking for a place to stay
while the world sat idly by, kicking itself in the nuts holding pee in and never letting go of the feeling of being fucked.
we made it, into the steps of sanctuary,
sneaking past the most massive assholes one will ever see, ready to suck you in like a black hole that has no mass, just pure energy
that relegates itself for the destruction of others and dying silently as they move to and fro the universe, not having any light of day
nor darkness of a moonlit night.
romance be damned, condemn the beasts that ensnared us into the useless hooligans we never could be.
it arrived, was placed in a box that cannot contain its beauty, its paradoxical naiveness. the breasts and the breasts.
tired. gangly and gargling for air from a sea of placid anarchy.
it went this way and that, held itself in a moment that even the air stooped to let its flight of feet come together and create the most beautiful
two-step dance that would even make stradivarius cry out in agony, simply because the
somber, simple parameters of such unequalled taste and circumstance float off into the yellow
universe holding an angle that made the stars run away from embarassment.
even the sun was not worthy of the time of such delicacy.
the time even came when i sat, stood, squatted, never noticing how i withdrew from the world to come to
its loving void, it came from pieces unfit.
i had to wait, serve and protect, collect and interpret placing her onto the box that once held so much, now looking so little, not even caring what that little whore in the bathroom wall would say when
i mistook her shoe for a clue.
then the moment subsided and it was time for bed.
radical !!!!!!!!! she was placed in a place only a few were
dared allowed not because she wanted it, but because she deserved it. it couldn't have been any other. the
weather was conclusive and the hearth frothed over with the love felt. in the morning, it came, the sense of purity that
cannot be held back by pulleys or battering rams, that which cannot be savored by a million taste buds nor digested by eighty-three stomachs.
in the instant that milk poured from my breast, onto a plastic container that contained my hopes and dreams, the ones made by sugar-coated daffodils and heavy fluffy machinated clouds, Tala, for that is her
name,
opened her eye.
the right one.
and into it i saw how beautiful life has become, extraordinary in its becoming and in its most sacred
joint, my soul seemed to have found its way scampering for a place in that face, going for glory
and losing all control.
strangers in love, i have become its most treasured possesion, Tala my most important perrogative.
and in a width of a stretched finger, our simple truths merged into something bigger.
Tala tried to climb into my hair, trying to find my heart, hoping to puncture it and erase itself from my memories, from my outpouring
bigotry and still she grew fonder of me, because she couldn't find where she was and i was staring at her the
entire time waiting for a way to tell her that everything will be alright, how i promised her that dandelions would never even get a chance to kill her with their rotting blades, and that in a labyrinth of wicked brackisness,
i would be there with her, screaming through tears and unwavering dedication that the place for her was beside me.
i promised her a world that could be seen through the right eye.
but again, fate plays like the manic mechanic from downtown that wanted to tinker with my stolen machinery, that fucking faggot that couldn't even flatulate in my face, but can clearly shit all over my bedroom floor.
revenge. the night wore on and amidst my howling....
i lost my beloved cat. Tala rejoined the beauty lost to everyone else, thanking me perhaps for giving her a chance to shine even without the
glow of her whiskers that pounced on my face with such blessedness that i could have cried
have i not noted that there would be others.
i feel the weight on my shoulders, how stupid i really was, assholes surrounding the star and
corrupting her naivete ways. it dawned on my starlit pinnacle of canvas that i knew would end but not now, hopefully not now.
but then, i was wishing to a star eaten already by the belief that i never placed much hope
on its travel as it shot towards eternity.
i hope that as she returned to the millions of torrid blanketed beauties, she would remember even for a whisper,
it was i who gave her flight.
for a beloved, a beloved was lost, and never again will i entrust whatever i hold dear onto hands that never understand how i have developed
into an unfolding mass of blight and contempt.
silver that kills werewolves, that stalks purses with clubs and rainmakers. for a piece of peace to please
the peas.
i go onto the covers wishing for Tala's safety. perhaps when i look high, she will smile upon thee
with her crooked face,
a melted cheek filled with tar and sand, hair matted by paste and glue, a hardened head from bruises that forged
her infetisimal body , i, wishing for rest for a lovely alley cat that only wanted to see
how beautiful the sky could be.
into the night, from silver breasts, i gave her flight.
30 - aug - 2006 3:05 am