(Got something to say, punk?!) new poem : places visited by Christopher Columbus [23 Dec 2009|02:51am] cellardoor_ [trackstar99] [ mood | sleepy ] [ music | Rubén Blades: "Plantacion adentro" ] places visited by Christopher Columbus Christopher Columbus landed at Mòlsennikola, history tells he came to a place decrepit now and of course, undeveloped in his own time. in Latin America, we write a lot of Christopher, just as we write of Politicas y Gobierno de la Educacion Superior — that is to say, we talk with a pragmatic nostalgia, we look back, yes, but to see what walls best held back the storms. Rubén wrote of la Masestra Vida, and Ana Lydia Vega wrote of her ” historias de pasion” while in Haiti little words in French sprung out all around, little Frances to be found in a new world undeserving even of its accent marks it so proudly placed with fountain pen and ancient printing presses, lone hecatontarch to the wars of written word and the writer’s distinct realities. when you look at the prospects, in a place like this, like Mòlsennikola, for the politician (he may be shot!) or the doctor (he won’t hardly be paid!) or the farmer (man toils away!) being a writer is not so bad a path at all. Official efforts plenty are made, and I don’t mind writing of it . . . el Monumento a la Paz de .... de Libre Comercio con los Estados Unidos, principal socio comercial . . . yet as storms came, as storms were then . . . we have the now, just now . . . (and I write quickly, as in emails, often no accents, not the flame-words of that historical Haitain's travails) *** I am sitting on my friend Adrian’s back porch, in a condo much like every other one between here and Miami, we drink Barbancourt rum and sing along with Rubén, swirling together cultures that commonly do not speak of each other yet they know, they do know, each other via odd geography. it is a torrid evening in August with no excuses for its heat and with a storm on the horizon, we see colors all turn to caramelo y gris, and I can’t help but think of Sandra Cisneros who walked down not so different streets, knew dreams of another rough geography of tropical beaches, she. and we read de Montesquiou. oddly him, for soft words: Des plumes, des plumes, des plumes Pour composer un doux nid. we could write the official story, (we live as if we were paid to do the very same). or, we could write of only Coquito y Buñuelos, small hallmarks— we’d be better off with or without nostalgia?

(2 black eyes | Got something to say, punk?!) I hope I'll see you again [22 Dec 2009|09:27pm] cellardoor_ [jade_inpurple] Fields of blue, Broken skies, lay down dew to your sunrise I'm not surprised, that the sun is burning Seasons changed, fightless nights and Petal'd highs They'll blow away, but float back to us Your cloudless skies present to us, Losing your direction On your stem trailed perfection, young one; One by one, alone together...

(6 black eyes | Got something to say, punk?!) dim love [21 Dec 2009|12:20am] cellardoor_ [lemonlanes] she placed one hand on his cheek, and felt him cringe. his eye twitched. “easy now,” she whispered, and he leaned closer. she felt his jaw clenching and his stuble tickled her left palm. she placed her other hand on his right cheek. he leaned forward, and said, “you know, how in love stories, and love in general, love is always fast and furious, with rushes of blood to the head and all that? how you just know, and then you’re together forever, until you realise you have nothing in common and then it ends? you know, how with most people it just strikes you and you never look back and you trust your better half without a second though? how you trust yourself like that? well, i can’t do that. i can’t ignore my brain, it tends to scream at me very often. someday, during breakfast, you’ll be wearing my shirt and i’ll be eating out of your plate, i’ll love you. but for now, i don’t. it needs to be easy. it needs to go slow. i need to know my heart first, before i can learn all about yours. i will need kisses, and long, comfortable silences, and i’ll need homemade meals cooked together. i’ll need birthdays, i’ll need christmases where you’ll try to decorate the tree, but break the star and you’ll want to cry, and i won’t let you, and i’ll get you a new one. i will need stupid fights about exes, but i’ll only do that because you’re amazing and i’m scared you’ll leave. it’ll be soft and slow, maybe too slow, but i want to love you. and i will love you, that much i can promise you.” she bit her lip, and he kissed it, and didn’t let go.

(1 black eye | Got something to say, punk?!) [Do leaves go to heaven too?] [14 Dec 2009|10:26pm] cellardoor_ [ooeeokillertofu] Do leaves go to heaven too? With their deaths in -ray orange, -Beam yellow and red-like-fire; To dry up, crinkle in brown; They say we die, blast of light Before our eyes, nirvana Finally reached like no high. To all the falls before me: We shall one day meet again.

(1 black eye | Got something to say, punk?!) Japanese Fashion and Cybergoth? [13 Dec 2009|10:58pm] community_quest [forestfruits1] [ mood | calm ] I'm on the lookout for two communities, if they exist: - Anything active on Japanese fashion and/or cosplay. - Gothic communities, especially cybergoth. Many thanks!

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