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Monday, July 10, 2006

I am your manic-depressive

Like overflown water
on cold iron sheets,
I am noise at 6:43 in the morning
Rising to the occasion of a dimmed sunset
staled by clouds from the global richness
of a world gone sour.

I am your manic-depressive.

Today, the leaves aren't so red,
nor are they so green to give me hope.
They are flimsy as toilet paper, the kind that renders
a smile, the kind you flush into the blueness
with a 20 peso bathroom ticket in
shiny hedonistic mall, a pearl in a black ocean.

I am your manic-depressive.

Television speaks like a miraculous idol
hypnotizing me into a mental relapse,
my subconscious hanging on to the words of a friend
five miles away, calling me out of a lightless demise and
Swoosh! I fly out of this liquid schizophrenia
beamed up by the news from a national hysteria

I am your manic-depressive.

Coffee or tea or milk or hot choco?
Cream shall suffice for the poverty stricken loco
Make my eyes shimmer from the steam of it all
and let them bleed salted water.
Let it flow, and dance and move in my face
and fall into the unknown fabrics of my skin

I am your manic-depressive.

Bare as a visceral shout from the gut,
out of fortune, out of the third world,
careening through, breaking the glass
in this emergency, this upheaval
from an existential dictatorship, I am free
and I realize confinement, I realize mercy.

I am your manic-depressive.

I am your sadness, my dear, dear friends,
and I am your stock of joy.
I come and I go, sometimes with two faces,
one that throws your head back
and one that throws it on the floor.
I am your wonder bra, and your stained sheets.

I am your manic-depressive.

- http://readruss.blogspot.com

Posted by inktrip at 6:27 AM

Saturday, July 08, 2006

The Genius of blue and red

I saw a blue button on the floor,

shiny as thin red balloons
on a sunny birthday

and plastic as white sporks
from no-cook noodles.

It lay there quiet, shy.
It's blueness invites the redness of me.

Takes my hand
and my bones recoil,

I hesitate.

There should be no blue buttons
sprawling on the floor at this time,

3:49 on the clock, ticking "go to bed"

There must be a blue shirt where this button is from
or a red one that says "you are mine"

Perhaps it is from something orange,
with a print of two heroes, one in blue

and the other in red.

Of two flying creatures dressed as men,
posed in alarm. Can it be from the red robin

or from the blue bat?

Robins are red and bats are blue,
this button reminds me of the orangeness

of you.

I saw a blue button on the floor.

Red as thin, shiny balloons
on a sunny birthday

and white as plastic sporks
from no-cook noodles.

Reddened, I turn blue.

http://readruss.blogspot.com

Posted by inktrip at 3:30 AM