New Poem

fall fresh sun beams

on ceramic features

of carved irony

warm the deadened

impulse to breathe

green grass grows

on the other side

of the world

we desensitize the cells

until growth is abstract

feeling obsolete

we steal false smiles

and so standing

in the mire

of dirt and secrecy

shame skirts the issue

of my two feet

beautiful woman

they say

look at you...

--EAC ('04)

**This is a short composite of words I found in a journal from a few years back. It's not bad, but it's not my favorite.

Burning Beds

black entanglement over terracotta cracks
you stretch and writhe
you suffer and break
the column collapses
the hot tears blanket canvas
the metal corset traps and holds
speak to me with your eyes

woman so weary

spread your unbroken wings

fly free as the swallow sings

come to the fireworks

see the dark lady smile she burns

la pelona laughs and draws dark lines
across your brow
even without feet
you traverse the split land
on wings of alegria
combust into the earth
your painted ashes
dotting the night sky

but the night sky blooms with fire

and the burning bed floats higher

and she’s free to fly

dreamscapes that form thoughts
in your mind
fill the beds of the earth
on which you lie
light your judas on fire
set yourself free
la bailarina covered in gold ash

y la noche que se incendia

y la cama que se eleva

a volar

**this is a work in progress....***

brief update of sorts

despite all the things that have been happening in my life recently, i have finally found my way back to art. for almost a year, i have not written anything. i couldn't look at a piece of paper, yet alone touch it for fear of what would happen if i began to write. i imagined myself writing that first word, and then breaking down in convulsive sobs, only to have some poor, innocent person find me lying on the bathroom floor in the fetal position with my thumb in my mouth. it was out of fear of what emotions would bubble forth (perhaps ones from which i would not recover) that i stayed away from the thing i love the most.
lately, i have been writing and drawing (yes, i actually have some skill) which has been quite therapeutic for me. therefore, keep an eye out, because i plan on posting some of my "art" on here as well as some new poems/writing samples. try not to be overwhelmed in your excitement.

Nothing with any Certainty

“i know nothing with any certainty,
but the sight of stars makes me dream.
--vincent van gogh

lying back in carpets of grass
drowning in the night sky
pools of blackness and neon puddles
engulf me suspend me protect me
FIELD CLOSED
and my feet don’t seem to mind
i trail the blades of grass
sharp lines between my toes
sharp cuts into my thoughts
the moon refuses to show her face tonight
perhaps she knows i shine enough for both of us
or she is a captive of the same manipulative thoughts
that hold my words for ransom
until i wrap them in suitcases of skin and bones
offering them as ultimate sacrifices
to the ghosts that drift the corridors of the mind
still moments such as these
with the languid breeze
licking my wounds soothing my skin hiding my scars
my skin doesn’t feel unknown to me
the ghosts don’t scream and beckon for payment
with the damp grass at my back
i do not worry of what must be offered next
to appease these abductors of thought
the neon puddles shine unwavering
there is no baggage for me to carry
tonight--EAC

fell asleep with the pen
clenched between my fingers
again last night
the rapid flutter of drug heavy honey eyelashes
and I lost the ability to evacuate
these swarm of bee thoughts
clamoring at my honeyhive
unconsciousness drowned the persistent droning
still I slept with my hand spread
across the page
grasping its smooth finish
like a mason jar half full
my callus broken hands
covering viscous words
still thinking they could
drag me back to inspiration
unyielding
before the beekeeper returned to check
the safety of his buzzing teeming minions.--EAC

Inspiration

something else i've been "doodling..."