The last time i do that again

Ok, so there i was, right back in the middle of a four year and some odd month long dream in which i wasnt me. I was playing the main character and the laughter sounded similar, somehow familiar. The sounds drownded the sights and the lights made demons dance and then there was me. A strong yell held deep in a dusty throat, dusty because i was on dust, ripping up from beneath the driest crust to cut and stab all things that deny my sweetness. Move bitch, it happens just like water, and i can hear my heart beat a little stronger. How many weeks have i felt this weak, and suddenly i could hear myself speak. So ok, i danced and took crazy chances and slapped hands and felt like a beast for a little piece(peace). The bass makes meat out of the musty air and then its fear and eating and feasting and oh so much more. Siniging, touching sweet fingertips and asking questions laughing into a smooth neck and a warm inhale tells so much more. How many times have we touched souls tonight through the lights, our eyes have moved onto the moving end when i regret the moment i moved in and move out, only to beg you to let me back in again. But so far, you've been a star, so far, but within the reaching grips of five fingertips. Thats nothing to me you see I'm a black hole and i swallow glowing souls of your magnitude on the regular. With words definitely unheard, minutes are minced and the strange angled tango begins. And as she leans in, I win. Grinning on the inside of shut teeth as she sloppily tries to introduce her toungue to me. Mamma never said, but strange pictures in my head remind me of unsightly blemishes and consequences of kissing strange things. But what could be sweeter than falling in love and breaking up all in the span of a first kiss. Delicious.

Ahhh Tokyo

Ah
Originally uploaded by Shine5.

There were rivers in my hands
of life that
flowed continuously
rivers of blood
that
held
me
bound me
to what was
streams
of conciousness
that lifted me
high
trickles of
madness
calling me home
where these hands
first held
at the beginnings of time
then chafed
the cracked
and split
until those
rivers
ran red
There are rivers in my hands
the fueled
the fire burn
baby burn
and there were rivers
that could
not wash away
the smell
of inequity
in my cell
of injustice
yet those rivers
still carry on
in my hands
and promise to lead
back to what was
and always shall be.

C.Steven

photo by Lou Diamond's

you know what love is....

The ideal place for me is the one in which it is most natural to live as a foreigner.
Italo Calvino
All peace and happiness to mi hermano and his perfect story.

cats eat catfood

My fingers used to be long- and straight,
now they are knotted and crooked.
Scars from cat claws and broken joints never thought to set right.
I don’t fight, I drink and these hands show the truth.
Knuckles remain proud, defiant mountains on a dusty landscape crossed with dirt roads on the back of my hand. Red clay steppes terraced with light imperfections. Half-hearted attempts to leave impressions. On walls, on myself, but never others.
I never see the point-

I see the edge, it stumbles around on heavy steps, a bad drunk looking for a way into the conversation. I see, so the edge sees me, maybe out of curiosity, probably just my ego, because I’m drunk too. Maybe I’m an amusement, a big eyed mouse in a game with a cat I can’t see. Because when the edge did come close, I never even saw him. He left a mark on a friend close by and laughed as he slipped away into a gin tinted black memory and sped off into that night.

Or escaped in the grey haze of morning, either way, I was later told, the edge was a light breath’s distance from my ear and I never saw the smile.
Other than that, we are always in the same places. And I nod from across the room. Others raise their glasses and I smile at them, but the edge knows I’m watching, laughs hard through the nose and moves into the shadows.

Sometimes when it gets way out there, we dance together. Not so much anymore, but familiar steps come back so easily.

Just when i think im almost there, i realize that there doesnt exist, just like here. So I stop. Then I listen. And I hear. And I start walking again.

the inside of my head

right now is a soft, fuzzy place- click the pic and see what im on about.

mmmmmmm yummmy

MMMMMMMMMM. click the pic for a bit of afternoon delight

I take it all back

I've been wanting to post something about the hurricane and ensuing devastation, the improper response of the government, the speculation that perhaps the one good thing that may come of this tragedy is that those people who could not see before that the President of the United States cares nothing for the people that inhabit said states will have an awakening. I don't like to speak about these issues until i have enough information to make a sound judgment one way or another, but when levee of injustice finally breaks and the raw emotion that has been dammed up rushes out there is no blame, only a clumsy search for the security of truth. click to see someone trying to say something...

Beautiful Weather

Dedicated to all Blackbirds.Dedicated to all Blackbirds.Dedicated to all Blackbirds.Dedicated to all Blackbirds.Dedicated to all Blackbirds.Dedicated to all Blackbirds.Dedicated to all Blackbirds.Dedicated to all Blackbirds.Dedicated to all Blackbirds.Dedicated to all Blackbirds.Dedicated to all Blackbirds.Dedicated to all Blackbirds.Dedicated to all Blackbirds.Dedicated to all Blackbirds.Dedicated to all Blackbirds.Dedicated to all Blackbirds.Dedicated to all Blackbirds.Dedicated to all Blackbirds.Dedicated to all Blackbirds.Dedicated to all Blackbirds.Dedicated to all Blackbirds.Dedicated to all Blackbirds.Dedicated to all Blackbirds.Dedicated to all Blackbirds.Dedicated to all Blackbirds.

Lord of the fives

Lord of the fives
Originally uploaded by Shine5.

I see fire and water, they are lovers, and their sons and daughters always hungry, run barefoot and fearful from their caves and holes to scavenge little bits of laughter from the splintered innards of a lightening shattered Sequoia or suck the tasty residue of tears from solemn stones that dont bleed, but cry just to feed the little ones. In the cool shadow of night, life is all big eyes and heartbeats beat faster and the children hide. Then as the big ball above my head spins i see a light, at first a gentle kiss, it sparks in the center of an ocean and spreads like a smile across the wholeness of everything, and the children sit indian style and smile and listen to the stories that the sun has come to share with them. I look down at heaven between my sneakers and shake my head...the earth is too beautiful for words, this is why i live in the sky...

whoah, who wrote this?!!

Beach therapy

Beachtherapy
Originally uploaded by Shine5.

The names and locations have been changed to protect the innocent. I don't know who this is, but he may be on to something. Immersion therapy- you gotta dig in to get it. Watch for the movie, coming soon. Enough context for you?

ahhhhhh

ahhhhhh
Originally uploaded by Shine5.photo Lou Diamonds

But, in answer to your query, i do assume that we are friends, at least until you say different. There are maybe a couple things about me that you haven't/don't want to realize. One, I'm not a very open person. I am social and outgoing, but the me that is me is kept in a very special place. A place where noone is allowed. Thats the way it is, has been and always will be...perhaps. Two, it is my opinion(not exclusively) that the forces that drive most people(not exclusively) are actually reactions to the world around them, such as ambition, competition, social acceptance, things of that nature. I myself work very hard to escape those things, with varying degrees of success, because what i hold most precious is freedom. But maybe I ve contradicted myself since trying to seperate myself from those things may just be a reaction to them. True success is born naturally as the result of a developed and meaninful life. Anyway, that which might concern you, or rather be causing you concern may be my aversion to social obligation. Not specifically you, but people tend to enter into impropmtu social contracts whereas each party is expected to act a certain way and respond to certain prompts in a socially predetermined/preapproved manner. These kinds of things freak me out. So I have a carefully constructed reality, actually quite fragile, but mine nonetheless, that I have to maintain constantly. So, I say all that to say this; if it seems sometimes that you can't reach me...that's because I'm not really there. I hope that makes sense. I hate explaining myself, and I'm not gonna elaborate on this. If you feel a need to psychoanalyze me, then do it with your friends or a nice bottle of wine so that at least you'll get a good warm buzz out the endeavor. I'm very self-centered, but nothing bores me more than talking about myself...wait, that might not be true. Anyway, I hope that answered your question.