Judas (Mantra One)

She would say, "Coax me, don't curse me. Hold me, don't haunt me." 

Broken trinities, one hopeful liar. 

She would say, "Coax me, don't curse me. Hold me, don't haunt me." 

Don't contain and isolate all the hate you have for it.

Slugabed - Quantum Leap

I can't stop listening to Slugabed's Ultra Heat Treated EP. It is pretty damn amazing to me. I think I am getting way too into electronica stuff. Fuck it...

Judas, Face Your Demons! (Session Two 3.13.10)

Finally went down to Portland for the Judas, Face Your Demons project that me and PeGee are working on. The first session was two years ago at the old studio. Session two was at the new studio, which is amazing. The building itself houses a studio, band room, art gallery, and clothing store. I forgot to get photos of some the gallery showings. I might try to get some of my stuff up there as well, but we will see. When I go back I will get photos strictly of the gallery. But for now...

High School

Bought a military inspired jacket tonight and decided to make some designs on it with a sharpie of all things. Yes, I will admit I pretty much...let me rephrase that, I directly stole the idea from Fuct, because they made some shirts last year (one of which I own) with Vietnam patches on them. The silk screening of those particular shirts are amazing by the way. But I am not mass producing it, in fact, this will be the only one so I don't feel so bad. As it fades with each wash it will look more natural. I actually like it.

Nat Sherman's & Cocteau Twins

Dismantled Rotaries

The enormity of this obtrusive machine has left yellow tape in the attic.
Grand lights to the north and future libraries cause the throat to ache for lipstick prints.

This is forever.

Who we think we know are never the ones we can go back to.
Our hearts in their teeth reveal the extent of selling a brand.
One can judge that the more someone lies to you, the more they truly adore you.

A true presentation of their smile means nothing.
It's the lengths we go to hurt one another that shows true feeling, because when we do so, it's in that moment we are being as honest as we could ever be.

Hearts and deceit.
Love is an ideal that we have stuck our heads in the clouds to capture.
And that's all we find.

The actuality is always dismantled rotaries and broken glass.



© 2010 D.B. (FS76)

Vanilla Sky

The thought of trying to attach some kind of explanation for these posts is quite nauseating to me for the moment. Maybe it's just for today, maybe it will be for a couple of months. I don't have that capability like some of my closest friends have to be witty or introspective. Maybe it's just for tonight...

The Wave Finally Crashed...

Overspray

I haven't done any graf in a minute. I still get that feeling every time I finish one of these. I'm no Mear or anything, but I really should do it more often.

(Valentines Day) Happy 66th Birthday Dad...

Twenty three years ago this year. It does seem like a lifetime.

Caring Is Overrated

This institution is bleeding from the mouth.
Of course the world sits in your hazel stained glass windows.
And the lurker sits near your house of boxes hoping to read your lips of what you may be saying to the white horse.
So you turn your back towards the reminder.
Not even realizing in your immaturity and believing that your life is a Taylor Swift album, that you aren’t the Prodigal Daughter.

You assume I still care.

The train wreck you are about to become is headed for your heart.
They all believe you are the surface.
But I know you intimately enough to know that you are everything I assumed you were when we first put the rugs underneath each other.
And to think I looked past your words of logic such as, “I voted for John McCain because he’s a Christian.”
I still looked past your excitement of having Bibles verses in your phone…while you let me call you a dirty little White girl with a father fetish and had you calling me your Savior and begging me to baptize you.

We are both charmers and liars.
We fooled each other.

He can have you.
No one is that special.
Thank you for the favor.


© 2010 D.B.

The Last Night Before Silent Permanence

Only If Things Were Different

I worry about the iron bird somehow becoming wounded.
I worry about the misogynistic nature of a man’s circumstance.
I worry about you wrapping your nude silk body in a satin red ribbon and sending yourself to him.
I worry about if my father was alive now, how much would he be disappointed in my choices.

The glass shards of the human spirit can only mend itself with hope for so long, before the substantial inferno of defeat rises to the attic.

The dawn spring is coming and I have yet to erase the funerals of winter.
For as much convincing I can provide to the sadists, I have yet to remove the knives in the wall.
And I wonder how many ravens I can swallow before their beaks pierce my lungs.

I don't want amnesia.
I just want to leave your ghosts behind.


© 2010 D.B.

Bridge Over Somber Water

Novocaine Hands

Surfer Blood

The Relentless Pursuit of Amnesia

Revisiting Skeletons

Hospice Wake

Death is at our door full of angelic light.
You are becoming a breathing memory.
One I can't recall ever really having except when I sleep.
You bit my hands, that's when I fell in love with you.

I was damaged.
You were naive and fragile.
We look at each other and see sand.

You fuck him and try to mean it as much as you can.
It's only when you sit in Roxanne that you look in the back seat and wish I would disappear completely.
Now you have to make new crutches.
And I can only watch you drown.
At some point you will.
We all do.

You will never understand how sore my eyes are having to let you walk amongst the crimson wolves alone.
By the time you realize how irrational we both were, death will be at our door full of angelic light.





©2010 D.B.

Death Is At Our Door Full of Angelic Light