Canonical Partition Function - 01/15/14

Here is how the energy
is partitioned between you and me,
here is how you've drained the systems
as far as can been see,
here is how you destroyed
the ensemble that could be.

Cold Turkey - 01/13/14

Two pressure points
in the minor fractures
of my scalp
from aimless thoughts
and concentration
picking away
layers of tissue
and bloodying my
fingers nails is
nothing compared
to the intoxicating
scent of fresh coffee
from the seat next to me.

Never should have
quit tea.

The Smallest Possible Unit of Soul

There's a quantum computer
in my soul,
impacting the body,
impacted by the body,
like a child and a fool,
rejecting that
"Whatever is, is"
and letting in stray cats.
There's a jumble of qubits
in my soul,
making errors and errors
on perception and sense,
on the way things are joined,
seen, heard, smelled, tasted, felt.
I experience the sensation
of perceiving you

(but you probably aren't there

[thanks, Descarts]

{But I think you are}])

in a transfer of information
as a superposition of
binary code
in infinite combinations
of α and β.

God,
mathematics,
and my own existence
search for an ad hoc
theory of everything
devoid of my sense perception
such that I cannot imagine.
What in my mind is innate
and where does it come from?

It's a very particular emotion - 01/12/14

The comments
on internet news articles
make me want to
set flowers on fire
so if you understand
the reaction
I'm trying to convey,
plant me a garden
of delicate
purple pansies
to fuel my rage.

Photobomb - 01/11/14

I have more
memories of photographs
than
photographs of memories
which says something
deep and meaningful
about my life,
but I can't remember what.

Love Poem For H - 01/10/14

I sometimes wonder
what your heat break
tastes like
and if you lick
any wounds
when I retreat
from your life.
I wonder if
you're sleeping
any better
these nights.
I wonder
and I hope.
You can weave
a sunset
in your eyes
and fill me up
with pretty lies
that I believe
every time.
So I wonder
what I know of you.
I wonder if
I know you.
I wonder
and I hope.

Doll and Doll-Maker - 01/09/14

Take me away from the black sea,
the ancient theater,
the shattered porcelain in the
torched doll shop,
and your yellow gown.
Taffeta and satin,
gossamer gloves
over far fairer skin
forever lost from the moonlight,
swept away by the dawn.
Let me lament the night
until the chrysanthemums that fill
your rotting mouth
burst forth from
your ashy grave.

Blood&Bone - 01/08/14

I am the cure for the common cold.
I am a pot of coffee at midnight.
I am white blood cells.
I am critical mass of fissile material.
I am 30 hours, 40 hours awake.
I am complete the goal to eat.
I am weakly interacting massive particles.
I am color confinement.
I am so close to straight As.
I am decaying.

Tinnitus - 01/07/14

When the ringing in my ears
becomes mundane
and commonplace
and I don't jolt my head
around for bells
or a frayed cable
plugged into the television,
turning my head
like some anachronistic
ship's wheel
to see if one orientation
fades away,

then you may lose hope
that I will
learn to breathe clean air
and chase silver sunlight
without having to be
reminded.

Abyss - 01/06/14

I miss the
idea
of you.
The possibility
of a text,
the hope
of a touch.
I miss open doors
and windows
more than
half-drunk conversation
from half
of us.
I miss "if,"
not swallowed in
a gaping hole
that leads
but one way:
down.

She - 01/05/14

I identify as a woman
but really I am

steel bones
forged in the heart
of a star erupting
into its successor
with diamonds in
my joints
and venom in
my marrow;

mythril muscles
knitted by the goddess
of revenge
but tailored to my bone
by forest sprites
weary of fire;

plastic veins
vibrating under my skin
every time
needles
eyes
scissors
or the monsters hiding in men
are mentioned;

blue fire
and lightning bugs
and punk rock music
and decaying charm quarks
wrapped in paper,
painted in crayon,
choked in ribbon,
drowned in books;

captain,
wizard,
queen,
debate mother,
teacher,
shadow.

Tea Shop - 01/03/14

Don't look up from the coffee pot
where your sweet tea tears
flavor bitter caffeination
to feign regeneration
of your heavy, longing eyes
and quicken the pace of your heart
with chemical uncertainty.
 So in the dust between
first edition Dickinson anthologies,
pine for pages
to spark beneath your fingers
and the scent of rose petal tea
to fill your heaving lungs.

Increased Police Activity on 82nd - 01/02/14

A healer handed me
a miracle stone
while we waited for the bus
outside of a bank
being robbed,
red and blue flashing lights
for a block in
every direction.
He said I was going to be
on a magazine
because I had vision.
He said to remember
that no matter how much
hate, racism, and evil
we encounter,
there is also and always
love.

2014 - 01/01/14

Capture the world in more words and memories
and less regrets and fantasies.
More tea, less coffee;
more coffee, less espresso shots;
more espresso shots, less procrastination;
more procrastination to look at the stars.
Look at the stars.
Look at the moon.
Ask friends to walk with me,
ask friends to dine with me,
watch movies with me,
laugh with me,
sit in silence and study with me.

Graph Paper - 12/01/13

I've heard tale
of lives
that fit inside
of neat blue lines
on graph paper,
flowing like poems
that actually rhyme,
and, from time to time,
I tried to stay confined.
But I don't grow like
differentiable functions;
I grow like vines.
I grow intertwined
with other
not so tidy lives
that hopefully
aren't too eager
to leave mine.