cristian's wordpad & lingering thoughts

dose of Cristianism & other absurdities.

Posts from the “PROSE” Category

july 19th (3)

Posted on August 7, 2019

he’s unsorted. unabashed. formal with his emotions. unashamed. vulnerable worn as a sash on thunderous days. sport a badge of honor stained with the blood of cain. what’s her name? love lost. lust loves to come in gangs. my father never asked if i’m ok. he told me he forgave me for what we brang. brought. sorry. when i’m in pain, my language crosses barriers all the same. rain forest. brain blots. lost in my badge of honor. should i say, i’m sorry? i’m not to blame. fuck that motherfucker fuck that motherfucker fuck it. flames. distraught and caught in daze. there’s days i question, am i supposed to be gone? hoping to holy father that i’m totally wrong. rotary dial. noticeable drama. rusty…

Categories: love lost, personal, PROSE, sequel or prequel

Tagged: , , , , ,

when hercules jumped into river styx

Posted on November 19, 2018

KILL OR BE BROKEN. KILL OR BE ME killed in combat over and over killing disease killed in disguise killed when i sleep killed in my dreams, killed cause I’m weak attracting spiritually broken, they see healer in me chill in my bones. killing me slowly, kiss me. it’s frozen feeling the breeze. or is that you behind, huffing on these maroon eye, jeweled demon, ruby iris. drool dripping do or die wolve wedding. sheep ring bearers, unsheared sheep pastor wool clothing. the warmth of our corrivalry helps me fall asleep faster hyper empath, i hear your heartbeat miles away hear it, before i fall asleep. hear it when I’m on a date why does it all of a sudden, beat faster? is it…

Categories: personal, PROSE

Tagged: , , , , , ,

vanish

Posted on June 29, 2017

I’m the saddest man on the planet dulcet zones become eruptions of death memorizing vocal tones, or numbing distress most ballads, hit home, requiem out of balance such a synergistic release comes from, this basket of malice ill have it to here – 22oz black coffee french press anarchy is best dressed, brown leather, head rest sinning in her black coffee sun dress takes a village to raise a child, theres no one to raise it with us pillaged through blades of grass, photosynthetic assortment spilling your flask til its empty, blood served in a brass veil vivider mass pavilion. mom kept the pictures of dad, still photo album laminating. magnifying glass on an anthill steel razor tandem. Dear, anybody, anywhere who has ears…

Categories: personal, POETRY, PROSE, SPACE

Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

fötter day

Posted on June 20, 2017

you can hear the… suburbia chime, zirconia vertebrae. pearly white spine glass thrown in stone houses, regular suburbia night whirring, rewind. chronicled childhood in olive drab paint monocle glass. wormwood and bottles of shawshank. dissolute solitude, wanderer who wallows in maze en route. delay for tomorrow. never promised today virgin diary. anne frank. marie curie disease tinture of rainbow, even if the distance is blurry to me he, who knows the way to zihuatenejo. furlough father. demand you to die when i say so 26 pesos what’s left in your wallet lint and mothball, merryland. experiment omelette. laundromat arcade quarter exchange 2 o clock shadow of death and follicle strain these boulders were supposed to be gone when i got here you shouldered me…

Categories: dark, emotional, METAPHOR, personal, POETRY, PROSE, SPACE, Uncategorized, WRITING

Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

to miss P

Posted on February 26, 2017

it was a matter of why. statuesque beauty over vodka and wine hourglass figurine. when you come around it becomes tough to tell time seductress stolichnaya. brunette, bridal, bohemian it’s cruel how without even trying you leave me in a state of dreams where I’m hardly breathing at the Gala. a seamstress couldn’t replicate your body shape you look awfully familiar….it’s been awhile since i’ve been in this hypnotic state. eyes are pools of island bays, emphasized by shine of geysers a vivifying type of way, to kiss your lips would feel like fire to put them out, i’d have meet your jewels of diamonds only a fool could deny, this muse that emphasizes grace electrifying distress.Prostovian princess with a crystallizing gaze accent so…

Categories: METAPHOR, personal, PROSE, WRITING

Tagged: , , , , ,

delicate skin: negative print 

Posted on February 25, 2017

who’s barely   intact. two hundred thousand nails puncture veins in my back whether not they’re human or metal remains to be asked  yellowpages. your name severs sapience. saps like heavens angels. vessels fray then collapse lord father, elevate us. why’m i so fixated on the past separate fact from fiction. eradicate my relapse rehabilitation at its fanciest. pinky out to brush ash from cigar  if love lasts then it’s farce. my last love seems so far may i have the pleasure of introduction without it seeming covert or open my mouth to talk something while we’re eating dessert feelings deserted you, conservative dealings in cursive  from the telekinesis to hypnosis, i barely feel what your words meant  sink your teeth delicately into the…

Categories: personal, POETRY, PROSE, WRITING

Tagged: , , , , ,

AA4564

Posted on December 16, 2016

i feel  so disconnected. pictures of stars are trillions of seconds old heliocentric. we spend our time wishing we could revisit a setting i could see it in decimals. each dot a pause in a sentence hold my hand, avalanche. bring me the check when you’re finished mezzanine at the theater, velvet seamstress, madam Gutierrez que romántico eres. carve my heart, au revoir mi mujer i spend the evening in tears, like its common procedure every droplet is a sonnet, every water stream a cathedral  where people gather, or they scatter, whether it be former or latter and they pray to their jesus, and i pray cause i have to there’s order in madness, rhetorical hope in the sadness like a volcano that’s dormant…

Categories: emotional, personal, POETRY, PROSE, WRITING

Tagged: , , , , ,

skylit lighthouse

Posted on March 22, 2016

we spent an hour alone watching our eyes meet our lips my revolvers extinct. extinguishing meandering thought cradled across indifference right into addiction deference to malice. rosebud digitalis reborn grin. while I think about things I haven’t before soaked in grimace and gin while I’m singing along philosophers physics. you had me at ‘gone’ underneath the chasms we nuzzled upon dreamt that you nightmare’d that i had dissolved to the active involvement of our rapid devolving i caught you at 12 under moon crescent December BMW leather. something that you’ll soon remember luminous, leacherous, somehow loosened endeavors uphill battle to oblivion, where passion is glued in forever funny; how erratic romances never seem to be better than hand in heart, avant-garde fractions remeasured you tethered my inaction with…

Categories: personal, POETRY, PROSE

Tagged: , , , , ,

Robot. I’m a. robot. 

Posted on December 19, 2015

I map out entire existences in the blink of an eye. I could hire statisticians for the things I’d describe. Statistical paralysis. Analysis by analytics. It’s lonely in the library, & things considered semi-cryptic. focused on the binary, I do the math on how to rule you. it’s crucial, at worst. at best, it’s the crest’s pivotal curve of your numeral worth. I take your pros-&-your-cons and expose them to darkness, it’s the only way light doesn’t reach the holes in my heart. I’ll lay em atop of a cube. Analyze the three dimensions that you provide me with. through a lens made out of optics formed out of the knowledge. The collage that you provided keys too. Base data on inflections of voice, first…

Categories: personal, POETRY, PROSE, WRITING

Tagged:

July 19th, 1991.

Posted on July 17, 2015

all little boys need father figures not to be normal, or not to be sane. You wouldn’t turn on a lightswitch without seeing where all the conduits placed. You grow up with a fist full of hurt. A surge, like a missile, without hearing a ‘miss you’. But one thing is certain, nothing makes you question your integrity more knowing that your very existence is burden. You’re a burden to breathe. I was just a curious boy. Curious George. Curious Cristian. Tried to talk to friends, but the look on their faces. It hurts just to listen. A burden. “How about a counselor?”. Yeah, I know the in-and-outs. I’m a soldier. Here take my money, let me cry in your shoulder. How do you…

Categories: emotional, humor, METAPHOR, POETRY, PROSE, WRITING

Tagged: , , , , , , , , ,

Don’t you get mad when there isnt’ a word that encapsulates your thoughts? So you write sonnets and songs, and poets and hymns, haikus and shit just to sorta capture it all?

Posted on May 4, 2015

sigh. the streetlight kissed your eyes & created an impression so pure. its whiteness i bring this up, bceause I fell in love by remembering my reflection off your iris. expression in its highest form, sensory designed to cure, destinies arrived. analyzed the sculpture, of course. – then vandalized your structure leaves falling aimlessly, in it’s phantom-like flutter randomized in the sputter of it all, only to capture geometry if love reaches new heights this colloquys written in masterful mountains parallel streets, architecture of houses, potential surrounding of impeccable scenery only strengthened and balanced, by the powerful breath breathed into me, when your mouth pressed out in between, the sound effect of the pucker so loud, so vehemently i remember a shroud of evenly…

Categories: METAPHOR, personal, POETRY, PROSE, WRITING

Tagged: , , , , ,

CONSONANT ART.

Posted on April 26, 2015

I don’t even care for breathing air, like A.) it’s clearly a mission. B.) Decided not to get angry today. It’s barely decision. Think life should be more grand than it is, but it isn’t. Can’t have regrets with being wrong, that’s why I love indecision. Sweater against chins, found myself looking for trouble. I love when the thread gets hooked to the stubble. Everyday that awaits is merely a presence. Trepidation dismayed, Come on, spare me a second. Deliriums weighed out of space, a variable essence, just savor today and take care of the present. Valiant way to go about positive pulses. To distract any and, all cognitive focus. Bottled emotions are false, I recycle with candor. Light a candle for the fervor,…

Categories: emotional, METAPHOR, off the wall, POETRY, PROSE, WRITING
%d bloggers like this: