Why Am I Still Awake?

Even still, with new activity,
Liquid redemption haunts me...
An illusory society.

Yet, too real to disregard
An addiction to sociability
To communication
To devil's advocate and curiosity

Without evidence of the infamous feline
--femme fatale, if you will--
Such a ghost lives only within dreams
Night and day mares of early dusk

*nightmares: "a terrifying dream in which the dreamer experiences feelings of helplessness, extreme anxiety, sorrow, etc." --Merriam Webster Online Dictionary

*daymare: "a distressing experience, similar a bad dream, occurring while one is awake" -- Merriam Webster Online Dictionary

Texting and Driving Board Ad

Week 6 Response Relocated

For Advertising and the Consumer, Spring 2013

Sources of images:
Vanishing Tattoo
The Healthy Moms Magazine
Comic Vine

Medium used: Photoshop CS5

Volatile Vibrations

I wait patiently still.
Still-born are these dreams—
Never meant to be remembered.
What are the meanings of memories?
Some collect forgotten dust,
Though many roam freely
From lobe left to right.
I'm reminded, "Freedom is not free."
But of which currency does he speak?
Spoken words tip the scales
In favor of pens flowing ink.
Gold will buy nothing here.
My heart bleeds black and blood
Over pages and pages—
Dollar signs and senseless words.
The Roman alphabet will not last forever.
The hands of poets are ephemeral.

Everyone Is Unresponsive

Air units rumble and click.
Blinds sway to and fro.
Breathe in and out.
The morning's first sign of life;
He glances up without seeing.
Muted warning of eroded batteries—
The only company offered at this hour.
Even the birds and wasps still slumber.
Rotting wood marks my seat
Among greenish painted panels.
Fowls chirps
Awoken in response to this text.
Foul scents of stale ash
Rebelliously arisen.
The soft point of this tool
Clutched between raw fingertips
Serve as the only remaining reminder of reality.
Though it calls out to persuade of alternate universes
Through vibrations of ink against paper.
Logic has become
'One last cigarette.'
Time surrendered pages ago.
I stare into my little room from the balcony outside.
My thoughts return again to the most prominent desire to live in a place where it always rains.

Short Cycles

A lovely surprise
Grinning along
With the smile of the universe
The sun spotlights a second in time
Such a small thing
Carrying such large hopes
Joy simply in presence
Thoughts return by strings attached
Step out, step in
To find
By eve it has ceased
An ephemeral existence,
After all
All life follows the pattern of the sun

 Photos 07/04/12

Black Holes and Who Knows

Dreams never question fiction

Though,
I remain suspicious of such heroic behavior
History tells me it cannot last
But I never studied history

I specialize in alchemy and the future

This first-aid kit is broken
And doesn't work on the universe, anyway
Because that hole is no wound
But a gateway into X
Left open, unattended by mistake

Curiosity killed the cat
But there are no animals in space
Save for our feral selves

We mark the path
Imprints of strange limbs
Snowflakes and foot prints
Embedded in the surface of stars

We fall through transparent planets
With no solid force behind our backs

Who needs a jet pack
When I've got wings
Behind these eyelids