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Description
weightless/breathlees
1
How am I meant to breathe when
I am trapped inside this areoplane
eyes trying staring out of hermeticaly closed windows
spread of rows and rows of houses cities streets below
trapped in nightime slumber
bellies achining empty feeling hunger
trapped in rows and rows
of houses bricks and rooms
while far above the clouds I loom
passing by quite silently
my mouth is closed; I do not speak
I am awake while others sleep
while I pass above below is dreams
I am an angel flying without wings
who cannot breathe who cannot seem

to remember
the lines and rows and rows and lines
of times
that passed by underneath me while I was asleep
these memories unremembered
unpreserved
untold unheard
unwrote in rows and lines
unwrote in sloppy and quite hasty rhyme.
These days and ways and years
fears tears beers and jeers, my passionate leers, my hatred of my peers, the razorblade crack in the mirror of my reflection; its all just intellection its just memeories told by tounge and known by ear; clear or unclear and spinning graceuly, old friends grow old facelessly my memories have no place to be
hung from
this boring old
humdrum bag of worries and lies
that I tried
to compose
into rows
and rows
of memories that could disclose
the me that I think I am.

Or was.
It’s all shaded underneath the fuzz
of this unrepentant jet-lag
that
falls the curtains
that
closes this act of my life.

I cannot see life
as I stare out of the breathless airplane window.
No life.  Just houses.  Just
daughters brothers spouses
names and places wrote in pencil in my notebook
I lost my reference I need to look
again
at who I am at who’s my friend
how the fuck am I meant to mend
this crack
this crack that’s spreading
up and down my shivering
body.
This crack that’s splintering.
Me.  My body.  Decomposed.  Discarded.  Dissolved.
Forgotten; spread and caught by the wind
dissolved somewhere twixt ground and sky
breathed; inhaled exhaled me
mixed up in between
the oxygen nitrongen and hydrogyn seeped
air in which you breathe.
I am breathed in and decomposed.
I wake up a stranger
declothed
unknown
don’t know how much I’ve grown
do you know how far I’ve flown?  Do you know the dreams I dreamt of you?
Do you know the nightmares?
The planefares
the friends who once were always there
to care
who I left in despair
I ascend the stair
that leads me here
this bubbling center of my fear
where I’m no one
where I’m unreflected
where
I forget who the fuck I’m meant to be.

Free?
could this really be
liberation?
Silver lining on the clouds of seperation?
Blank white pages ripe for creation
re-creation
but I’m stuck alone; hermit impatient
staring out of my airplane window
every moment my moments dwindle
and I cannot see
who I’ll be
when I’m reclaimed by gravity.

By gravity.

2.
My 19-years have passed me by
and I look down at my flesh and do not know who the fuck inhabits it
my memories are a blur; many different paints; abstract watery and slurred
there is as much sense in them as in clouds shapes in the sky
my 19-years have passed me by.

I’m reeling
I’ve moved so much forgot how I was feeling
I’m weightless
tossed from town to town and fateless
airplanes and cars and wait-lists
hundreds of miles an hour
I speed
in my bedroom I cower
and read
the lost loveletters and poems and stoires
that tell of home.  That tell of a forgotten home.

Canberra, Australia
to
Eugene, Oregon
to
West Palm Beach, Florida
to
South Bend, Indiana
to
Grinell, Iowa
to

wherever the fuck I’m meant to go next.
Breaths.
Such a heaviness against my chest.
But I’m weightless
and numb
homeless.  Transient.
Dumb.
I cannot speak I cannot think
complete my memory
of who I was when I used to be
a person pinned by gravity.

3.
I’m falling
I forgot how we
used to be.

I’m falling into slumber
call yet another forgotten number
trapped and pinned by wonder
of
what will happen.
My strength is sapping
I wanna sleep.  I wanna.  Wanna.
But

you know how uncomfy these airplane seats are.
I have travelled too far
my brain is stuck and sunk with tar
I stumbed to the suffocated bathroom and stared into the mirror and asked the reflection: ‘Do you know who you are?’
But no answer comes
the cold glass is numb
and my reflection
has no body.  No weight.  Cold plane of plain glass.

Every moment passed
is another moment gone.

And it goes on and on
and on.
And it goes on and on
and on.

Description
weightless/breathlees
1
How am I meant to breathe when
I am trapped inside this areoplane
eyes trying staring out of hermeticaly closed windows
spread of rows and rows of houses cities streets below
trapped in nightime slumber
bellies achining empty feeling hunger
trapped in rows and rows
of houses bricks and rooms
while far above the clouds I loom
passing by quite silently
my mouth is closed; I do not speak
I am awake while others sleep
while I pass above below is dreams
I am an angel flying without wings
who cannot breathe who cannot seem

to remember
the lines and rows and rows and lines
of times
that passed by underneath me while I was asleep
these memories unremembered
unpreserved
untold unheard
unwrote in rows and lines
unwrote in sloppy and quite hasty rhyme.
These days and ways and years
fears tears beers and jeers, my passionate leers, my hatred of my peers, the razorblade crack in the mirror of my reflection; its all just intellection its just memeories told by tounge and known by ear; clear or unclear and spinning graceuly, old friends grow old facelessly my memories have no place to be
hung from
this boring old
humdrum bag of worries and lies
that I tried
to compose
into rows
and rows
of memories that could disclose
the me that I think I am.

Or was.
It’s all shaded underneath the fuzz
of this unrepentant jet-lag
that
falls the curtains
that
closes this act of my life.

I cannot see life
as I stare out of the breathless airplane window.
No life.  Just houses.  Just
daughters brothers spouses
names and places wrote in pencil in my notebook
I lost my reference I need to look
again
at who I am at who’s my friend
how the fuck am I meant to mend
this crack
this crack that’s spreading
up and down my shivering
body.
This crack that’s splintering.
Me.  My body.  Decomposed.  Discarded.  Dissolved.
Forgotten; spread and caught by the wind
dissolved somewhere twixt ground and sky
breathed; inhaled exhaled me
mixed up in between
the oxygen nitrongen and hydrogyn seeped
air in which you breathe.
I am breathed in and decomposed.
I wake up a stranger
declothed
unknown
don’t know how much I’ve grown
do you know how far I’ve flown?  Do you know the dreams I dreamt of you?
Do you know the nightmares?
The planefares
the friends who once were always there
to care
who I left in despair
I ascend the stair
that leads me here
this bubbling center of my fear
where I’m no one
where I’m unreflected
where
I forget who the fuck I’m meant to be.

Free?
could this really be
liberation?
Silver lining on the clouds of seperation?
Blank white pages ripe for creation
re-creation
but I’m stuck alone; hermit impatient
staring out of my airplane window
every moment my moments dwindle
and I cannot see
who I’ll be
when I’m reclaimed by gravity.

By gravity.

2.
My 19-years have passed me by
and I look down at my flesh and do not know who the fuck inhabits it
my memories are a blur; many different paints; abstract watery and slurred
there is as much sense in them as in clouds shapes in the sky
my 19-years have passed me by.

I’m reeling
I’ve moved so much forgot how I was feeling
I’m weightless
tossed from town to town and fateless
airplanes and cars and wait-lists
hundreds of miles an hour
I speed
in my bedroom I cower
and read
the lost loveletters and poems and stoires
that tell of home.  That tell of a forgotten home.

Canberra, Australia
to
Eugene, Oregon
to
West Palm Beach, Florida
to
South Bend, Indiana
to
Grinell, Iowa
to

wherever the fuck I’m meant to go next.
Breaths.
Such a heaviness against my chest.
But I’m weightless
and numb
homeless.  Transient.
Dumb.
I cannot speak I cannot think
complete my memory
of who I was when I used to be
a person pinned by gravity.

3.
I’m falling
I forgot how we
used to be.

I’m falling into slumber
call yet another forgotten number
trapped and pinned by wonder
of
what will happen.
My strength is sapping
I wanna sleep.  I wanna.  Wanna.
But

you know how uncomfy these airplane seats are.
I have travelled too far
my brain is stuck and sunk with tar
I stumbed to the suffocated bathroom and stared into the mirror and asked the reflection: ‘Do you know who you are?’
But no answer comes
the cold glass is numb
and my reflection
has no body.  No weight.  Cold plane of plain glass.

Every moment passed
is another moment gone.

And it goes on and on
and on.
And it goes on and on
and on.