#1
A pure rant. written on a couch. 4 am. nearly completely dark. silent. thoughts. in response to zack's most recent. kira means killer in japanese I believe. straight from the notebook, sorry about the terrible imagery, metaphor, phrases, and punctuation. and remember, i'm a little liar. sorry.



For Zack (and Kira-)


loved the way you looked at him, eyes dark clay beads.
skyward mouth clenched.
blue thunderstorms
caught your umbrella on the wind
"let go" "let go" "let go"
lives, piling like snowman parts
tiny crystals.
was purity? whoa, purity.
i don't want you here.

sneezing like a lover, twenty lovers, too many lovers
painting over painted murals all down downtown Chicago walls.
clean up the riff raff, shooting stars, constellations.
you be the artists then, and i'll be the kid who sits on the couch
upstairs, drunk on a small stolen sip of wine from your parents cabinet.
if they ever discover anything at all
i want you to burn this notebook
"straight to country roads"
miles of white fence surrounding thin strips of shadow
i'm counting on it to work.
hospital bed tomorrow,
cars and. oil! and. sun!
and soil and earth and worms to till it.
happy farmers truly happy.
so close. the room. southside warehouse.
born in north kyoto.
all of them but me. kira.
all of them but me.
burn it please. won't work. can't.
i'm god. stuck window, smoke.

"kira kira kira"
open my mouth with your dirty fingers
pry my tongue between my lips and yell
i dont care what. make me feel.
blow your chest out. growing.
why you hate or love
why summer comes cold,
brittle windows.

stranger's house
stranger couch
light stuck off. not my pen.
yell how i can't get my lives straight,
steroids to be bigger than my body.
i'll be a god someday.
"kira kira kira"
whispering snowfall.
drinks of water in wineglasses.

the night does start
here, below the chest
i'm writing, pointing, writhing.
and yell, "kira!" to that spot
"i'll kill you." god.
blended eyes
raining punches down wet into my sides.
at the center.

the night,
pulsing like a cow heart,
kissing down your chest
kissing up your legs.
screaming.
i'll be bloody, disfigured.
burn this notebook.
i'll wind up past the stripper smell, the tokes, the worst drunk kisses you'll ever witness,
in your bed downstairs, holding tighter than an army,
closing inward
all sides
surrounded
"let go" "let go" "let go!"
it's over then, with skin so soft
i will have to be extra careful
as i kiss
hard and dark
night breath lungs
until morning

kira-. kira-.
kira-. kira-.
kira-. kira-.
kira-. kira-.
kira-. kira-.
"kira-" soft on your voice
until daybreak.
blue thunderstorms
raging
just outside your window
rocking. rocking.
shaking the panes.
#5
- "the night,
pulsing like a cow heart,
kissing down your chest
kissing up your legs.
screaming.
i'll be bloody, disfigured."


This stuck out to me as the best bit. In fact, that whole verse was amazing. Unfortunately I found the stuttering method of writing here to be a little cubersome after a while, but I imagine if I read it again - and I will - then it will become easier with time.

The "snowman" line was awesome.

I am at a loss as to what this is really about though. I can sense an underlining theme that I'm missing. If it is personal thing that only you and Zack would understand, OK, but if not....well....ahhh.
#6
wow, parts of that actually were pretty great. it clearly is kind of a rant, not the kind of thing that youd sit down and write systematically or anything. which you pretty much explained anyway. im tempted to say this could be really amazing if you worked on it, but that kinda kills these things sometimes, imo at least, and i dont see why a poem cant ever be considered worth reading unless the writer picks out every tiny imperfection but i guess thats just me. as it is, i think this says a lot and very well. im sorry i cant get much more specific or say anything too helpful.
off topic, im kinda surpised anyone remembered me here. but thanks, and im hoping ill keep posting here for a while again if i can do anytihng at all consistent as far as writing.
#7
A pure rant.

Oh God, you didn't tell me I was dealing with a rant - I call shenanigans. Well, here it goes.


For Zack (and Kira-)


loved the way you looked at him, eyes dark clay beads.
You need a subject pronoun to being with, since none
was identified yet. I can't tell if its I, he, she, or other. I also
think the next line would be much more effective without the period
on this line. As long as you're defying grammar go the whole nine yards.

skyward mouth clenched.
blue thunderstorms
caught your umbrella on the wind
"let go" "let go" "let go"
It seems alright, but perhaps if you did what you did
with kira later on it would improve the appearance a bit.

lives, piling like snowman parts
tiny crystals.
was purity? whoa, purity.
I wanted to see an it here.
Once again the omission makes it confusing.

i don't want you here.
Very erratic, in a good way. Especially since this is
a response to his piece I won't fault you for it.


sneezing like a lover, twenty lovers, too many lovers
painting over painted murals all down downtown Chicago walls.
down downtown isn't a pleasing repetition, I would suggest
changing downtown to uptown, but that would alter the meaning too much
(though in a cool way I think). Instead I guess it would be easy to just
change down to up.

clean up the riff raff, shooting stars, constellations. *riffraff
you be the artists then, and i'll be the kid who sits on the couch
upstairs, drunk on a small stolen sip of wine from your parents cabinet.
Upstairs doesn't read well on this line, it's almost trying too hard.
Also small makes the alliteration too much, and sip already indicates
the small portion.

if they ever discover anything at all
i want you to burn this notebook
"straight to country roads"
miles of white fence surrounding thin strips of shadow
Simple, but your application of those words to the image makes it awesome.
i'm counting on it to work.
hospital bed tomorrow,
cars and. oil! and. sun!
The first and. works fine, the second not so much.
I would take away the second period and make sun! a new line.

and soil and earth and worms to till it.
happy farmers truly happy.
Another unpleasant repetition, it'd be a lot better
with another adjective in place of the first happy

so close. the room. southside warehouse.
born in north kyoto.
all of them but me. kira.
all of them but me.
Nice use of repetition here.
burn it please. won't work. can't.
i'm god. stuck window, smoke.
I'm tempted to thank you just for the comma here,
though most of these lines are fine.



"kira kira kira"
open my mouth with your dirty fingers
pry my tongue between my lips and yell
i dont care what. make me feel. *don't
blow your chest out. growing.
why you hate or love
why summer comes cold,
brittle windows.
There is nothing at all I dislike about this,
probably my favorite stanza.



stranger's house
stranger couch
Brilliant.
light stuck off. not my pen.
yell how i can't get my lives straight,
steroids to be bigger than my body.
i'll be a god someday.
Treading thin ice here, but I have to say that
this would be more powerful without the a.

"kira kira kira"
whispering snowfall.
drinks of water in wineglasses.

the night does start
rather it be starts
here, below the chest
i'm writing, pointing, writhing.
and yell, "kira!" to that spot
"i'll kill you." god.
All the more confident in my last suggestion of
removing the 'a' now.

blended eyes
raining punches down wet into my sides.
at the center.
I have no ****ing clue what you're talking about,
but once again... Damn if only you hadn't called it a rant, then I could
trash on it so much.


the night,
pulsing like a cow heart,
kissing down your chest
kissing up your legs.
something other than kissing the second time please?
licking, slobbering, smooching, masturbating.. anything

screaming.
i'll be bloody, disfigured.
burn this notebook.
i'll wind up past the stripper smell, the tokes, the worst drunk kisses you'll ever witness,
in your bed downstairs, holding tighter than an army,
Somewhat weak analogy.

closing inward
all sides
surrounded
"let go" "let go" "let go!"
it's over then, with skin so soft
i will have to be extra careful
as i kiss
hard and dark
night breath lungs
until morning

kira-. kira-.
kira-. kira-.
kira-. kira-.
kira-. kira-.
kira-. kira-.
Periods are just an annoyance here.
"kira-" soft on your voice
until daybreak.
blue thunderstorms
raging
just outside your window
rocking. rocking.
shaking the panes.


Phew, done. Besides having no apparent point except to have no point, it's a very interesting piece. There's some very intoxicating imagery and I love it for that. There's also some very annoying repetition and grammar and I hate it for that. I think I love it more than I hate it though, and it was a fun read. You're definitely in your element here.
On the eight day we spoke back...

let there be sound.
#8
i'm not gonna be much help to you.
never held the feel for this one
except for a few moments.



For Zack (and Kira-)


loved the way you looked at him, eyes dark clay beads.
this line goes on too long, imho
and i wrecked on the last four
even breaking off as a second line
would still rattle me.

skyward mouth clenched.
blue thunderstorms
caught your umbrella on the wind
"let go" "let go" "let go"
lives, piling like snowman parts
tiny crystals.
was purity? whoa, purity.
i don't want you here.
this felt like a collection of disparate phrases
i some of them connect to one another
but the gaps are to big
for me know which dots to connect.


sneezing like a lover, twenty lovers, too many lovers
painting over painted murals all down downtown Chicago walls.
down/downtown put me off.
clean up the riff raff, shooting stars, constellations.
you be the artists then, and i'll be the kid who sits on the couch
upstairs, drunk on a small stolen sip of wine from your parents cabinet.
if they ever discover anything at all
i want you to burn this notebook
"straight to country roads"
miles of white fence surrounding thin strips of shadow
i'm counting on it to work.
hospital bed tomorrow,
cars and. oil! and. sun!
the excess punct means something,
but i'm missing the point.

and soil and earth and worms to till it.
happy farmers truly happy.
these are the first two lines i connected strongly with
especially the worms.

so close. the room. southside warehouse.
born in north kyoto.
all of them but me. kira.
all of them but me.
burn it please. won't work. can't.
i'm god. stuck window, smoke.

"kira kira kira"
open my mouth with your dirty fingers
pry my tongue between my lips and yell
i dont care what. make me feel.
blow your chest out. growing.
why you hate or love
why summer comes cold,
brittle windows.
i don't fully understand this section
but at least i get the emotion(s)


stranger's house
stranger couch
light stuck off. not my pen.
yell how i can't get my lives straight,
steroids to be bigger than my body.
i'll be a god someday.
"kira kira kira"
whispering snowfall.
drinks of water in wineglasses.
hit and miss throughout.
couldn't get clarity from the pen or steroids.


the night does start
here, below the chest
i'm writing, pointing, writhing.
and yell, "kira!" to that spot
"i'll kill you." god.
blended eyes
raining punches down wet into my sides.
at the center.
i'm lost in the chaos.

the night,
pulsing like a cow heart,
the cow heart confuses the hell out of me.
kissing down your chest
kissing up your legs.
screaming.
i'll be bloody, disfigured.
burn this notebook.
i'll wind up past the stripper smell, the tokes, the worst drunk kisses you'll ever witness,
in your bed downstairs, holding tighter than an army,
closing inward
all sides
surrounded
"let go" "let go" "let go!"
it's over then, with skin so soft
i will have to be extra careful
as i kiss
hard and dark
night breath lungs
i started tuning in until this line.
until morning

kira-. kira-.
kira-. kira-.
kira-. kira-.
kira-. kira-.
kira-. kira-.
"kira-" soft on your voice
until daybreak.
blue thunderstorms
raging
just outside your window
rocking. rocking.
shaking the panes.
this last section actually felt comfy.
the piece was a strange ride
and i don't know exactly where we've been.
but at least the end connect
and gave me closure.
Meadows
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#9
the imagery was delicious at many points, but It was ruined slightly for me because I the entire time I was trying to make it make sense (it doesn't, does it? even to you?) Most definitely artful.
#10
don't listen to anyone who's talking about the english, it's beautiful. the best i've read from you.
#11
this was raw.
untamed whirling emotion.
some of the imagery was conveyed in the most original phrases i've ever read.
There's a road that leads to the end of all suffering. You should take it.


- Jericho Caine


secret, aaaaagent maaan.
secret, aaaaagent maaan.