Monday, November 26, 2012


1.
i am clothed in black silk.
awake and away, i am
not here right now,
so leave a message.

2.
yesterday, i said somethings
that are inconsistent with
the way i feel today

3.
next time i come around,
i will make sure
i come around to you.

4.
 i feel asleep at the altar last night.

5.
call me up, call me to your
fixated gaze, that fixates
on anything you could
never have, but
everything you
could have.




[NOTE: i'm gonna make each of 
these five sections into a zine each,
if you want one, let me know:
piupiumaya@gmail.com ]
have i already hit middle age?
is this it?
life a continuing string of nice days/bad days
hard crosswords/easy crosswords
seeing people/being unseen?
i remember mists.
clouds covering the towers
and opening my eyes to see
only mist and myself.

how liberating to be isolated
in the coolness, and the calm.
i am unreal.

the only time i feel real is when i'm working
maybe that's why i'm such hard work.

i have attachments to your
own state of being, that this
morning when i woke up with
a cold sweat dripping down
the back of the mattress, i felt
like throwing up.

you say things and things, i believe
them all happily, because every word
you've ever said has been true, but 
oh my darling, how i miss you now.

its your presence i miss right now, 
your mind and voice less.
its having your body there close to
mine to hold and have, more so
than hearing you speak
words so true.

Friday, November 23, 2012

i didn't realise it before,
but i have missed you for days.

it's not that i haven't seen you,
i feel like i haven't seen you.
like your flesh have spent forever
trying to find mine, and vice versa - 

even though barely hours ago
we were touching skin to skin.

maybe its the night wearing 
thin on my outta layer,
rubbing off all remembrance,

or maybe it is, in actual fact,
we have had chance encounters,
but nothing deeper than a graze.

Thursday, November 22, 2012

wallow wallow in
my oceanic bed
lying awake in the
clouds i am alive
while you are drinking
and i see time slip by
and i am unafraid.

if you want you can call
me in the morning but 
i don't mind what you do
its up to you now babe.

J U NG L E E



my squishy words annoy you,
unresponsive and vacant,
i sit working tirelessly through
the night to make a quick buck.

the knot in my back grows
heavier with every passing second,
but even in my listless moments, 
i know you love me
and it lifts my energy
to bypass the boredom.

Wednesday, November 21, 2012



i made a video in the last couple of days,
featuring music from $noregazZzm, recording by Nick Graham and my poetry.

i made it for fauxhound, cause he's a total babe

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

i arm myself.
trouble storms
cannot touch me.

he can not touch me.
he, who would take
all that is owed to me.

he can not touch me.
i am golden and with
my bow and spear,
i pierce through the
armor that would 
protected him.

he can not win,
and i can not lose,
i am golden in the eyes
of the beloved, and i
am strong enough 
to fight him off.

i was always strong 
enough to fight him off,
with the beloved's eyes on me.

looking at pictures of naked boys on the internet
i am struck by the vulgarity of them.
they are my age, but they are
eons ahead of my time,
and i lag behind, saying:

"really now, really now,
let your emotions settle

(petal)

you are much too human for me."

their bodies glisten, and faux muscles
ripen under skin soaked to perfection.


i would rather lose all my words than
sleep with one of them. it is a hard line,
but it is the only one i have ever known.
my career keeps changing it's mind.
am i blind, or deaf now?
could i speak or move my fingertips?

if i was darkened, and am now light,
then what was the light before this?

i seem to be unable to make
up my mind, will this be the
last time i reconsider everything?
i hear the charge calling,
calling my name, telling 
me to burst my bubble
and flee to a new reality
of world's i have only 
seen but never been to before.
the urge to leap and run
out in open spaces entirely
new is so great, i fear my
feet would leave the ground
if i wasn't bolted down.

J O Y I N L O V E

i am joy in love

you are
a waterfall of love,

and my love,
you stabilise my
irrational dreams.

like pillars, you
raise my face to seek the sun.

your hands hold my
silk body close to yours,
i am stilled, but still here
in this infinite reality.

your breath is my heartbeat,
and i would give you my pound
of flesh. if only i still had it, i would
give to you all over again. but

it leapt out of me, and into you,
the first time you kissed me.

that first moment where your lips covered
mine and i gave in wholly.

to me, your words are holy,
even when they tease the
blood in my veins.

when you said: "love, you
make my waters move"
i fell even more into you,

all my world is for you.

all my words are for you.

in the dark, lying next to you,
i am filed with inexplicable joy and

i am in love

if ever i was gold,
i was golden in your eyes.
i was born with lips like
slivers, that were blown 
into life. 

he gave me speech.
he starts to talk.
"i would fuck out the sadness.
take you and make you mine.

i would kiss your lips, until they
were red and raw and bled.

i would cut out your blank eyes
and replace them with glass."

and i just sat, and stared,
and said nothing

Sunday, November 18, 2012

i have child's heart,
that buckles under the
weight of continuous
denials and responses
so noncommittal.

i am trying my best
to use words, but they
don't come. they never
come, and this feeling
reaches up.

i wish i could reach
up to your lips and kiss
them with my eyelashes.
i wish i could touch your
body -

last time i was 
close to you, you still
swayed like ocean
currents that pulled you.
i can't decide
if the hurt behind
my eyeballs is from
the lack or the loss.

lack of the necessary

loss of the touch

the touch of the infinite
muse leaning down to
kiss my lips and see 
through my eyelids

 - creating a waterfall, 
where before it was just a leak.

i can not decide,
and i might just melt
with all this indecision. 
i mean to say i fear i am dying,
but no,
you don't know what it meant
to bleed, lying across the beams.
bathing in the light.

i meant to say i am free(!)
of him, and you, and every
other man to hold me,
but this isn't true, i'm
stuck to the same old
bodies that i always was.

if ever i tried to let my hands 
pass through my body, i'm sure
i could fix the broken links.

but i can't, so
i fear i am dying.
eruptions take me
to the birthing of venus.

"look what you could be
if only you wanted to be
that badly."

i do not know, and i was not
born inside a sea shell, and i
was not born bursting out of
my fathers head with wisdom
and courage built in. 

i am not courageous. 
my fear limits and contorts 
me, warping my body into infinity. 

take me to the birthing of venus
so i can see, exactly what i could be
i was star shaped
inside the iris of your eye,

until, i become boring
and am nestled out..

i feel as though i am 
clouds, shifting constantly.
where are my ties to moor me
to your islands of complexity

finally, i decide to let the
winds blow, knowing you'll
catch my ropes if you want to.

Saturday, November 17, 2012

he's a curvature.
geometrically succinct and
everything he does is
measured and made to cut.
he felt like blades under my skin,
carefully carving the muscle from flesh.
he made me hollow, and let
my insides seep out the
hole he cut in my eyelids.
that way he could always see
where my gaze was, he always
blindfolded me, and gazed the other way.
he always blindfolded me with words
and gazed the other way.

so when i finally, out of frustrations
and heated blood, ran out of patience
and time, he decided it was right to show
me his hidden angles.

he drew a line down my body with his
tears and boyish valour, and
he drew the love out of me.
then from above, he cut me with it.
he sliced a line. he carved a ditch
from under my jaw, down my
neck, over the hill of my collar bone,
in between the rise of my breasts.
he dug a rut down my sternum, and
pierced my stomach lining right through.
he did it all with my love, and salt.

he used myself against me.
destroyed my sense of intellect
and purpose, and stole my finger
nails. devoid of anything i called my
purposes i sat inside the softest
pillow of mourning, and
wallowed in my own self disgrace.
he would have taken her hands
and laced them over himself,
he would have let his lips
do the talking, and his eyes
do the looking. i was left
on the floor of the hallway
melting into the wooden floorboards,
but he was lacing himself
through her hair and her skin,

 and when i grew, he stayed stagnant.
my eyelids regenerated and i
found a new future generation to put
my hope in. i found a new sense of
sensibility and a new way to breathe.

Friday, November 16, 2012



the streets are almost as cute as fauxhound.

jos played really well last night, i am so proud of him.
he is a beautiful human.
through the throngs of our relationship burning,
i feel i could never reach
nirvana, and i know your 
blood pressure is the same.

untied by our fledgling and failing
omnipotence we curve into each other
again and feel ourselves slip back
into the old routine - tried and true
and i sit in you
and you sit in me
and we are together in a space
of beautiful completeness

that threatens to sallow us whole,
like his fingers curling over us with ease and grace,
but we are safe, because
we are together.

Thursday, November 15, 2012


i promised i
         would be good,
and i am good.
lilting tides in my eyes
are rising and falling
like the sun.
the only rest
you receive is in
the darkness of night.
the only rest i receive
is curled against
you.

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

make a tap from your eyes,
and i will do my best
to drain your sadness 
from your heart of gold.

it doesn't weigh a ton, 
it weighs the same amount as
love, my love, and which is
a heavy burden -

but the heaviness is
sweet to touch,
 soft to taste.

i will leave the
indent of my kiss on the 
underside of your chest,
close to the missing rib,

so when your heart almost bursts,


you can feel my kiss,
and it will help to calm
the furious beating
sadness incurs.
i remember his hands.

too soft. he couldn't handle
me, when i moved like silk
against his body.

it distressed him the way i flowed
through his veins.

he pumped me out of his heart,
and it was second best blessing i have ever been given.

now, when i move like water
through the shower head,
i drip down a body of total and complete perfection.

i sit heavenly inside his eyes
of the sweetest grey,
and

after the transfusion of bloodily
fluids, i can feel a better man
coursing through my bloodstream
like pure joy.

i forget all other hands, now yours exist,
and i can not remember the way anyone 
else felt inside me.

one day,
you will die.

or i will.

it doesn't matter
which first, or 
 if we die 
together,

limbs bound,
 lips pressing.



one day,
we will separate,

lover's bodies melded
together, now melted apart.

Monday, November 12, 2012

i do not think he even knows
about the admiration and
adoration i feel for him.
for his eyes, his art, his
lips and teeth. his bones
and his scars...

oh! his scars! more
beautiful than any marking
in the history of the world.

i adore him, totally.
i make my amends with my own god
and i remember the times i lie on beaches
of violet sand, thinking:

' at least i'm not you'

detrimental imaginaings of
dragons and fairies stealing
your innocence and ignoring your
pleas for merciful resentment,

that is not me. i stand on my
own two feet of joy and defiance,
if i needed anything, it is there, and i
have nothing to be ungrateful for.

it only took thirty seconds and he was right,
i fell so in love with the music of
the listening, that i wrote to him right
away, i said:

"listen, to me. i know
i am hard to hold,
and i am badly timed with
my limbs of whips and leather,
but listen, to me.



i only know myself through
you, i only know myself through you."



and his response was with looks and i
understand my way of thinking
is not what is not what i thought it was.

and i understand the infinite, the awful
and the loving.
i roll onto my back,
and let the space shake
around me and my starry eyes.

this world of this constant
perceptual ghosting, i am
a light for you, and
you are in the driver's seat.

i would never fight you for
fear of what you would do,
or fear of what you could do.

i walk and i think and your
inspirations guide me through.

so i roll on to my back
into the middle of your palm, and

i let you have me entirely.


my frustrations come to a head
i can not write to save my
self or anyone else and i
start to frown so deep
i furrow into my own face.

burrowing into the ground,
i want my head in the sand
so i do not have to think about
this - or! so i lock out everything

else and am left with pure instinctive
drive to write about the frustrations
of claustrophobia.

i could wait like bloom,
a thousand years and a day
for the sun to set on your dawning
face. to see the light in
your eyes vanish from this earth
and be reunited with all.

i will wait a thousand years in
spring, surely the glow of your
skin can not leave until we are
ready to leave, together in unison
of beautiful hazy nights of cold
autumn's breath. 

the wait is not long, it is fleeting
and i understand this. so i will
wait like bloom a thousand
years for your soft touch, and
hope that the rains will keep at bay
until the bloom has blossomed,
and our time is done.

Sunday, November 11, 2012


Wishbone
Richard Siken


You saved my life he says   I owe you everything.
You don’t, I say, you don’t owe me squat, let’s just get going, let’s just get gone, but he’s
           relentless,
keeps saying  I owe you, says  Your shoes are filling with your own damn blood,
you must want something, just tell me, and it’s yours.
          But I can’t look at him, can hardly speak,
I took the bullet for all the wrong reasons, I’d just as soon kill you myself, I say.
You keep saying  I owe you, I owe… but you say the same thing every time.
          Let’s not talk about it, let’s just not talk.
Not because I don’t believe it, not because I want it any different, but I’m always saving
and you’re always owing and I’m tired of asking to settle the debt.
          Don’t bother.
You never mean it anyway, not really, and it only makes me that much more ashamed.
There’s only one thing I want, don’t make me say it, just get me bandages, I’m bleeding,
          I’m not just making conversation.
There’s smashed glass glittering everywhere like stars. It’s a Western, Henry,
it’s a downright shoot-em-up. We’ve made a graveyard out of the bone white afternoon.
          It’s another wrong-man-dies scenario
and we keep doing it, Henry, keep saying  until we get it right… 
but we always win and we never quit, see, we’ve won again, here we are at the place
          where I get to beg for it
where I get to say  Please, for just one night, will you lay down next to me, we can leave our
clothes on, we can stay all buttoned up?
          or will I say
Roll over and let me fuck you till you puke, Henry, you owe me this much, you can indulge me
this at least, can’t you?  but we both know how it goes. I say  I want you inside me
           and you hold my head underwater, I say   I want you inside me
and you split me open with a knife. I’m battling monsters, half-monkey, half-tarantula,
I’m pulling you out of the burning buildings and you say  I’ll give you anything.
          But you never come through.
Give me bullet power. Give me power over angels. Even when you’re standing up
you look like you’re lying down, but will you let me kiss your neck, baby? Do I have to
          tie your arms down?
Do I have to stick my tongue in your mouth like the hand of a thief, like a burglary
like it’s just another petty theft? It makes me tired, Henry. Do you see what I mean?
          Do you see what I’m getting at?
You swallowing matches and suddenly I’m yelling  Strike me. Strike anywhere.
 I swear, I end up feeling empty, like you’ve taken something out of me, and I have to search
          my body for the scars, thinking
Did he find that one last tender place to sink his teeth in?   I know you want me to say it, Henry,
it’s in the script, you want me to say  Lie down on the bed, you’re all I ever wanted
          and worth dying for too
but I think I’d rather keep the bullet this time. It’s mine, you can’t have it, see,
I’m not giving it up. This way you still owe me, and that’s
          as good as anything.
You can’t get out of this one, Henry, you can’t get it out of me, and with this bullet
lodged in my chest, covered with your name, I will turn myself into a gun, because
           it’s all I have,
because I’m hungry and hollow and just want something to call my own. I’ll be your
slaughterhouse, your killing floor, your morgue and final resting, walking around with this
          bullet inside me
‘cause I couldn’t make you love me and I’m tired of pulling your teeth. Don’t you see, it’s like
I’ve swallowed your house keys, and it feels so natural, like the bullet was already there,
          like it’s been waiting inside me the whole time.
Do you want it? Do you want anything I have? Will you throw me to the ground
like you mean it, reach inside and wrestle it out with your bare hands?
          If you love me, Henry, you don’t love me in a way I understand.
Do you know how it ends? Do you feel lucky? Do you want to go home now?
There’s a bottle of whiskey in the trunk of the Chevy and a dead man at our feet
          staring up at us like we’re something interesting.
This is where the evening splits in half, Henry, love or death. Grab an end, pull hard,
and make a wish.



i let my inhibitions bloom.
her is he without the
restrictions and my
blood always flows

down the inside of my
thigh, lovers have licked to
feel the sensuality of my body.

my soft teenage body of dreams
and ambition. naive and sweet, i
am the wet dreams of your father,
and i am the internet search you
type, every night like clock work.

look at my lips.
look at the sweetness.
if only you could taste my
objects of desire.

let your inhibition go,
i am he without the
restrictions and my
blood always flows


you know i get scolded by
you for sitting in bed all day.
listening to
you in my mind and 
smelling you on my
bed sheets
      


(that's a bit creepy right?)


my hours of long spent time
drift away like wind.

one day i will do something
truly productive,

and when you think i'm lazy (still)
i will have a gust strong enough, 
to blow your legs out
from under you

with an enormous amount of love.

Saturday, November 10, 2012


disinterested in the movements of lips
or your hands sliding down my body.

disinterested in silence and silence
and silence and misled words.

disinterested in advice, in admiration,
in (slowly intoxicating) love

disinterested in being disinterested


but being disinterested, 
doesn't mean anything in real life.



photo


often i keep my tongue still.
you speak and believe your
own words, but i don't even
believe mine. so how can yours
stay with me?

even when they imprint
themselves on my eyelids.

i feel vaguely empty. 
words are words are
words are words and
i feel hollowly without.

like i am not here,
and neither are you.
time is endless and
communication boring.








photo







my dopamine levels dripping from the ceiling.
i thought i lost my mind when i lost the time,
falling down stairs, and people and people
and communicating and i'm hazy, i'm mist
i'm nonexistent except in this drowsy state.

this is my reality. this is my reality.
oh lord please save me.

Friday, November 9, 2012



i am no david.

but i will win.



the silver in your blood stream

is illuminated by the gold in your heart.

photo


with you i never win.
lamb to the slaughter.
you're drunk again.
again again again
you say things, i won't
listen anymore because
you don't mean it.

you say you will
and you don't and
i lie in a pool of my
own apathy, always

and forever waiting on you
i trace the scars of
our impending love
in my head.

i can feel the heartaches
begin to swell, ready to burst

i trace them, and feel
their forgiveness resonate
inside my whitened bones.

they have not ruptured the milky
skin of us yet, but when they do -

i promise i will still love you


photo


lying in the rushes,
he leaned close,
and nibbled my ear.

i let him in,
felt the shiver.

his skin feels like water,
his mouth tastes like rain.

his body is delicious.


lying, delirious in the rushes,
i could feel the heat of the day
pass, and he leaned close,
nibbling my ear.


Thursday, November 8, 2012


"Autumn is the hardest season;
the leaves are all falling and they’re falling
like they’re falling in love with the ground,
and the trees are naked and lonely.
I keep trying to tell them ‘your leaves will come around in the spring,’
but you can’t tell trees those things, they’re like me;
they just stand there and don’t listen."
Andrea Gibson
i say "what i am becoming?"
and instantly know the answer.

i'm becoming you, and i'm becoming me,
and i'm letting the tide turn me over.
i'm letting myself float out to sea.

give my life for love,
give my life for you
and the extension of you i can
touch, and hold, trace his name
along his stomach.

i let his back hold me, used to
dependency. give my life to
the never ending circle of
curation and creation.

i'm turning over in the tide
drifting out to sea so pleasantly.

i float toward infinite salvation of the soul.




made another vid!


t o g e t h e r . c o m f o r t i n g


you had a good reason for leaving.
lay lady, lay, calm your frightened nerves.

you forget your manners, and i forget
to forgive, but lay lady lay. calm your

frightened nerves. your loneliness grows
out of a restless heart, being away is hard,

being vacant is harder, but you have chosen
the hardest way. loneliness is lonely,

so lay lady, lay.

condense the breath
that bleeds through my
pores and evaporates,
leaving me out to dry.

come to me, and highlight
my brain. let my words
come free and sweet.

let the thoughts and images
burst out of my sighs so
i can continue to become.

flow! flow through me!
let the inspired comments
on relatable reality express
themselves in words.

words. words. words.
ugh. words.


blurred memories of disintegrating walls.
softly lit basements with red velvet rugs.
your rosary beads slowly melting into your skin,

where are you now?

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

you.

there is only one word in existence
and it is

you




you tease me with teasing.

are my kisses never sweet enough,
or only sweet once i've
drunk my cup?

i swallow my words, and they
taste sweet - so surely they
must be enough?

although, sometimes,
i eat your fingers.
sometimes.

Sunday, November 4, 2012


















i am provoked.
you're poking me with a stick
and i bite back, my pride
wounded and my sense of
being wanted is bruising and
bloodied. you make me cry
and i am filled with spite
and sadness.

ungovernable sadness. i want to
fall away, slip out into the
atmosphere. i pout at my
laptop screen and pretend that
it's you,  but that just makes me
sadder, so i just collapse
into the bed sheets to
wait out the hurt.

my bed lies waiting for you tonight.
it coos, and arches up to hold
me. we comfort each other
in your absence.

sweet love, we wait for you.
it is not sour to taste anymore,
waiting has its own glory, its
own perks of being a bloom
in springtime, and my patience
is not wearing thin.

in my weak moments i doubt your love,
the tide of your eyes and your
intentions. but there is no point.
i burn and ache for you,
and in your own way,
you burn and ache for me.

i lie in my bed, and we comfort each other.
knowing you will return makes waiting all the sweeter.


photo
we could be kittens.
we could be cute.
you could hold my hand, you
could sit next to me on the bus.

we could get coffee.

we can hang out

- i mean -

only if you want to

- cause y'know -

i don't really mind

- like, um -

either way or

- just whatever -

come love, come
to wander through
my eyes. i don't ask
for much, i won't ask
why, love just come.

come and be here with me.
i promise we will enjoy ourselves
basking in the interstellar glow.
i promise i can roll over onto
my back, and offer up the space
between my shoulder blades for you to kiss.

come here love, come, just for a moment.
let us lie in the lull of the infinite crushes!
the splendor and sunrise of blushing cheeks,
and lips rising to kiss each other!
the thrill of hands barely touching, but
knowing both sides desire
just a little human contact.

come here love! let my arms awkwardly
hold you, not knowing your body or
you ways, let us lie in teenage anxiety.

we can watch 10 things i hate about you
and drink cask wine from the goon,
and when night peaks, we can pass out,
lolling over each other, like teddy bears,

or the most lovely of lovers.
i get bored of looking through decrepit pictures.
the only thing i want to know is
when are you coming home?
i curl up inside images of you.
comforted knowing we were
together. comforting
myself through lonely
echo tunnels of waiting.

waiting, waiting, forever waiting.
each moment collapses my lungs
and punctures my heart.

but still, i am comforted,
home will be home soon,
and i will sleep easier than
i ever have before.


Saturday, November 3, 2012

i turn my eyes to
look at the shape
of your perfected
neck.

the way your skin
moves along the
bones, the pure
caramel colour,

i want to
kiss it all
the time.

it is the most
kissable part of
your body,

apart from your
lips, which pout
so wonderfully,

as though each
time you get grumpy,
you (secretly)
want kisses.


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