Tag: quotes

my mother used to say

Cristian Leonardo

hi. I’m okay. my name is .. (private exchange)
oceanic delight. mariana trench – lets lie on the waves
get lied to with promises as you wave your goodbyes
the we’ll soon see each others. the i cant wait to arrives
gesticulating giant, wide-eyed naivety shine
Juan Valdez roast – a vagabonds variant vibe
cash valet parking  -pristine ’85 BMW e28.
cabernet offswitch. tannins drip from my IV cause i don’t bleed dna
deviate from the norm. heliocentric. her face is a star
she makes the sun turn violet, and gives rainbows their scars
technicolor stitches, wounds wash radiant art
do re mi, one way street of living, who’s to say that we are
in edens garden, dancing naked to purple rain
my dorsal fin can’t navigate the deepest waters
irregardless, blood print barely cracks the surface stain
the takeaway is mundane themes

it’s okay to want a place to scream
the days are hard fought battles, wars go on for weeks, and
hurricanes are taking shape in the subway steam
every sunday, he tithes revived percentages of hope
so a little bit inside me dies from the carcinogenic dose
AM country station blazing through the cigarette tray
grandpas epitaphs engraved in in-direct faith
12 volt Citroën culture, french press grit in my veins
vaudevillian silhouette, it’s like you barely saw her
stained-glass windowpane,
leather love-seat, Frankenmuth Bavarian auberge
accompanied by airport sound wave dispersement
dial pound eight, to reach the operator rotary nuisance
call me a mutant, because we hate feeling lonely as humans
let’s huddle around the baggage carousel until we depart
what bothers me is the converging of a million souls living apart
common courtesy talks, airplanes are altitude civilian parks
we’ve been displaced by a culture aimed to minimize faith
and dilute consumer bases, zombified mimicking ape
my father used to say – take walks when it’s pouring down rain
why? so you can revisit the bridges burned in your wake
never had a father, it was just something I said to myself
did I divulge too much? my mother always said keep to yourself
cause’ the hearts on your sleeve are a poker players favorite tell
manifest themselves as sheep who hastily offer you wool
did the vague release of my cry remind you of wolf?
hell in a handbasket, riding hood tells us we fear who we are
too many questions, not any answers. period, pause

i know what i need 

Cristian Leonardo

I dont know what I want

whether its surface dwelling alone at the swamp
or an oak in a marsh, soul searching proverbial want
we’re more or less spawns of monsters nobody needs
you were my star spangled banner and I was taking a knee
subterranean breeze, vitamin pond, still smell your perfume
every once in a blue, Dahlia Divin creeps in the room
black lagoon creature. months of despondent malaise
never under the same moon, but always got in your way
every constant is change, every constant in chains
the sheriff to my merits, conversation warranted pain
follow the tunnel light or continue to walk amongst shade
politics, topic delay, boxer on the ropes
you taught me to love; but to love to be alone
a hundred teeth, sunk in deep, til’ they’re rusting at the bone
propaganda prone, post traumatic melodic drama
copacetic cathartic static, momentary sedative saga
mama said to me never mince words with misses karma
megabit verbage. sapient alma in the trenches of mock prison
velvet and soft linen, cotton henley makeshift pajama
couldnt figure you out…
kissed crevasses in your skin you were indifferent
about
you’re awkwardly distant to things that slipped through my mouth
look at you now..
Sinatra’s lovers glance, blood soaked sinful devout
the untolds dripping, gun smoke cigarette clouds
love grows thinner when sun strokes negligent doubt
what comes, goes.
hum low under floor boards or they’ll figure us out
self destruct sequence, count to zero with me
feel your feelings metamorph like metaphors in the breeze
i don’t know what i want, i just know what i need
better go home before I’m awoke and i see you
full of momentary passes focused entropy seams
beams of light bustling through cracks in the stream
pockets of time form like globules; we’d skip stones in ravine
everything’s too loud even when the volumes negative three
nothing we do can salvage this irreparable dream
que pena me da, que lo tienes sentir
shouted at you to leave, as i whispered the please

vanish

Cristian Leonardo

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
sinning continuously, in her black coffee sun dress
anarchy is best dressed, brown leather lounge padded headrest
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
in a position to translate. this ballad i have here
monochromatic morse code
willing to listen. put your phone down. stethoscope to a torso
I trot through universes i never knew that existed,
thinking of becoming perfect with you, seemed so delicious.
I press my lips against windows you’ve brandished
just to kiss what you’ve managed to touch
ive become calloused. and rough. galloping stallion tusk
and you vanish

fötter day

Cristian Leonardo

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 off. sunday morning penny loafer with frost
social commentary gabriel-lucifer talk
metamucil, retrograde. jupiter star
bolivian roast, oblivion, and a toast goes to mars
you hold my hand; but i don’t even know who you are
shout at me when indoors, but whisper weak when afar
im so close to eroding, skin growth, barely a scar
in my house; the big wolf. lungs pulse til’ exhaustion
i read a suicide note from the ghost in my closet
i dont know, if he knows if this apartment is haunted
by patriarchal pettiness, reminiscent negligent heart
maleficent maligned distant/forgot insidious offspring
with ammunition in their lips, that keep you off guard
feel the metacarpal love letters til your fingers fall off
once you step out the door, you hear the wooden creak in the floor
fell asleep at the creek daydreaming before
everytime before bed i hear footsteps coming from deep
and i hide in my closet, until they delete
REM hits me while I’m counting my sheep
counting rosary beads for every step wolf takes towards me
like neighborhood freeze tag, counting to 3
dysfunctional beings, huffing in suburbia breeze
i know that i know nothing is in love when i speak
into denizens, the medicine cabinet creaks
when you close it and i haven’t heard it in weeks
form bourbon, to curtains burnt at the seams
I’m so close to being the opposite of perfect, i scream
what emerges, a bird sits perched in a tree
what alerts him is
suburbia breeze

at the doors

Cristian Leonardo

im in love with you, but I don’t want to be.
I blame you for my woes, but it isn’t you
you were just a tiny percentage
a smidgen of hope I hung unto, the glimmer
barely, there like the painting of glitter, the spark in the thinner edges of my mind
there was a hug you gave me once, at the step of your door, after you came
back. I knew you so well, I had a gift for you, I forget what, I want to say flowers. Your silhouette marched behind the glass doors. you didn’t know it was me. I’ve been messaging you, tiny hints of my departure, which you didn’t totally pick up on. You opened the door. And I uttered words, that didn’t matter, like “why didn’t you-” you hugged me. And I kept asking you the question. – this is important, because, I didn’t want to be overwhelmed by emotion, so I verbally tried to cut out your overwhelming intimate touch, just a hug, by spewing this verbal vomit. You hugged me
harder at the step of your door. Squeezing me, almost, but with this passionate reflex that, put me so far into you, I still remember it as if it happened a few hours ago. It’s been two years. It feels like a few fucking hours. But I know it’s not. What’s funny, to support this passage is, people ask me how long I’ve had my hair cut, I say “a few months” it’s been over two years. My tracking of time is just lost, like that hug commenced this time warp where im sucked into it. Today a coworker pat me on the back to wipe some dirt off. I didn’t want them to stop patting me, it’s like any real interaction with humans, something as simple as a pat to wipe off a patch of dirt, reminds me of your fucking doorstep. Now when I hug, I hug hard. I hug people hard. I want people to remember these hugs, maybe I could just give people the same feeling as you did and still do to me. Picasso, I would pay Picasso billions, and I would pay whoever could resurrect him even more, just so, we can go back in time, hell, you rose a man from the dead, so we’re going back in time, so he could photo frame my face, the moment your arms wrapped around me, in your black coat, I never seen you in. and Id want him to paint my face. Id want to see my face in art in that moment. it would be called “broken heart”, because in that moment my heart wasn’t broken, it was mended, melded. Sewn. it was just the following months, years- well minutes in my world that broke it again. I wonder if anybody has any slight innervation about what I feel on a daily basis, over a damned, hug. God damn, you. I just, wish, I could just breathe again.