I’ve been pissing crucifixes in the snow these days –
to mark my territory, you know.
My animal instinct to say that I have been here,
that I am here,
a symbol of my awareness.
My eagerness to summon my will.
A subtle mind revealed in all things,
a careless ashtray,
a staggered path in the snow,
a meticulous,
unmolested,
uninviting dress shirt, carefully tucked in evenly,
perfect seams.
Dirty hair.
Yellow snow in the shape of a crucifix is not the sign of a dog,
or a squirrel.
*Excerpt from part one of a series of short stories, with the working title,
After Life
He sat stale and hard; his gaze transfixed on the empty white wall. His last movie screen. His projector ceased to turn – it’s parts run dry and stiff. No longer was there a shining light beaming from his lens eyes, projecting images before him.
The machine was cold and without content.
It was a peaceful enough departure. He’d been in a fantasy, a waking dream, and suddenly he just knew. The moment was upon him. Hazy, almost, and calm. He felt no panic, no fear – possibly because he had not the energy to spend on such a performance, even if he chose to. Visions coursed through him, travelling beyond form, beyond reason – searching.
Explaining.
The cycle brought itself around full. His body slowly washed into cold numbness, and in a gradually fading light, his thoughts dimmed and all went white.
The typical opinion of what a relationship should be
seems to be a perverse,
socialistic,
self-serving ideal.
Most often,
from what I see around me,
they become quite horrible –
or quite horribly dull.
Expectation and promises ruin everything.
People don’t seem to be able to simply enjoy.
Desperation.
Loneliness seems to be what drives people.
Seek desperately,
only to suck dry what you find,
all the while hiding and lying.
No fun in that.
The sex gets boring fast, too.
I think true nature acts without questions,
no demands,
no expectations –
only the enjoyment of the company,
the experience –
or nothing.
Commitment,
pledges and promises
are the vain, possessive, manipulative methods of foolish,
frightened and sad,
lonely humans.
I know what I want from others,
and it has nothing to do with possession,
or a plea for help,
or even loneliness.
Relationships don’t cure loneliness –
not for me.
They give me sexual comfort and spiritual bonding,
but in the end,
I’m still my own vessel following my own path.
If you end up on the same path as me,
then perhaps,
we hang out while we’re moving in the same direction,
but we’re still on our own paths,
and if they change directions separately,
we part and take our own path,
or we compromise our peace and happiness.
I’m sure that monogamy does happen in a pure state sometimes.
Nothing is impossible.
People are infinitely different
in their pleasures and desires.
Some people can continue to grow from each others presence
and will feel no need for anyone else.
It happens – but it shouldn’t be a standard.
It doesn’t happen that often.
I
I crave to break apart the box
Rearrange the parts
It leaves my mark
Compelled to break apart the laws
Disassemble right and wrong
Rewrite your songs
Erase your lines
(Rewrite your lies)
I’ve walked through your labyrinth
It made me sick
Your indirection
I watch you in a window, waiting
Hoping you’re that special one
To me
Ego glowing
II
Why haven’t we changed
From our archaic ways
What makes us cling to
Living this way?
Lay me down and wrap me around
A wet blanket weighed the same as
All the blood wasted
And claimed in the name of
Anyone who fits the plan
And plays the hand
That’s been programmed
I don’t know who falls
When it’s all of us
On The wall
III
I see your boxes and your longing
To break them apart
To remind you how cathartic
It can be to breathe
Tradition holds us tightly locked
Refusal of any growth beyond it
And we flaunt it
Special flag, oh we adorn it
Trapped in our minds…
IV
Why?
Do you feel the need to be
That singular, special, perfect thing to me
Why do you have to bleed
The weakness of your ego
All over me
Fucking love yourself
Try it for a day
See if you can carry that weight
Stop talking
Shut up
Do it it today
V
There’s a thousand worlds beyond
The one repeating suburban loop
You and your group
Exploit
Why do you insist
On making choices when the voices
Have been screaming NO!
I smoked a million cigarettes
And never got past my regrets
Get over yourself
Your pain isn’t wealth
It isn’t some cherished personal thing
You’re not fucking special
No matter how big the promise
The ring
VI
Your fantasy
Monogamy
Will bleed into monotony
You’ll want what you should not
And then
You’ll question your morality
And you will lose your certainty
The shadows start to breed
a thousand versions of your greed
Your ego supercedes
And you will lose yourself to me
and then repeat
You’re not alone
You’re not the only one thing
To anyone
Your fantasy
Will lead to disappointment
VII
I know, as you know, as we all know
what it feels like
Just fucking get over yourself
You’re not fucking special
You’re not unique at all
You’re just like the rest
Just a fucking shadow at best
Just a shell of what could have been
The best fucking thing that you could be
Instead you curl inside yourself
Pathetic shell hiding away
On a forgotten shelf
Goodnight, goodbye, my love…
Music is my master
Says Alice
The malice evident in the way she holds her head
In her hands
My heartbeat is faster when I’m moving with the grains of sand
Try to understand
She says
From my side from where I stand
Looking at the man I am
Pursue me, she would whisper, as she ran
Away
I follow through the forest of the world
I am not alone
I am a pack of wolves
And we run to find the one alone
Howl and shine in the sun for the show
I am not alone
And I don’t know these wolves
Music is my master
Says Alice
Laughter is the softest reaction to madness
As she stands before her audience
Laments at all this failed romance
Try to understand
She says
(I’ll never lie –
I never tried)
And Alice runs away
Again
And we all die alone.
…It doesn’t have to be this way
Alice whispers through the blinding light of day
…please… try…
Pursue me, follow me this way
Hand in hand we’ll stand today
Sing a song
I’ll dance
We’ll play
There will never be an end
To the songs that we can make
Please try
She whispers
As she says goodbye…
I can’t remember all the time I’ve wasted
Doing something else
Nothing else
Endlessly
A careless spill
Effortless
And without direction
A reason
My full intention
To speak
To frame the train wreck
In your window
For your eyes only
Secret stamp of approval
Begs acceptance
Expects performance
Lives up to the hype
Then dies
Like all things
A spiral in an endless state of entropy
Will you do what I want from you?
My train of thought
Went off the tracks
It built a home where it stopped for snacks
And never came back
Stop. Full stop.
No return
There is no easy release
That won’t fall into pieces
Blindly attempting to understand freedom
Trying too hard
Compromise is the lie of the blind
To justify the sacrifice
Of the wild card
A silent mind is not the same as quiet time
A wolf doesn’t cry to the world to pass time
Solitude isn’t torture to every mind
Nothing is as it seems
(they say)
(who are they?)
There is always more
Than you saw before
You looked away
Torment is as easily a presence as a lonely cry
As easily a present as a way to die
Remember why
The mirror isn’t the same behind the other eye
And the mirror never lies
It never tries
I want
When I cannot
(Wicked children
Out in the streets
Playing ball hockey
Shooting at me
It’s only their fingers
But murder’s the seed)
John Thursday 