Entries By kuri
Displaying 1 To 30 Of 43 Entries
gift
she handed me a gift. it was wrapped up in a green and red gift wrapping like fucking christmas. i threw that shit on the floor. “do you actually fucking think this will alleviate what you have done?” “what? b-but honey i-”
Posted By kuri On 07.22.2010 @ 6:23 am
vase
i knocked on the door to my mother’s apartment leaning the vase on my side so that it wouldn’t fall. i knocked again after a while. her hearing had been going and she had a hard time answering the door as of late
Posted By kuri On 07.20.2010 @ 9:39 pm
balloon
i watched the girl stick the mouth of the plastic balloon on the metal pump and i watched it inflate to full size. she did it systematically. stick a balloon on, turn the knob for the compressed helium, tie it, stick another balloon on… and so on. “what are you doing?” i asked her “i’m pumping balloons, what does it look like i’m doing?” she says. not even looking up to meet my gaze “what for?” i asked again no response.
Posted By kuri On 05.19.2010 @ 10:25 pm
dress
“you’ll look good in it, i promise” “no way, absolutely not, I will not wear a dress” “oh come on, how many times in your life do you get to wear a dress?” “that depends, in case you haven’t noticed, im a man” “who cares?! you’ll look good, i promise” He stares at her, squinting his eyes “you’re insane” “and you’re going to try on that dress”
Posted By kuri On 05.18.2010 @ 9:10 pm
distract
the solemn word spoken to ears perked by consciences fully immersed. my face lights with the apt attentive stare while ears itch, feet shuffle mind
peeled into and immersed with the color of inner life unacceptable by society
Posted By kuri On 09.20.2009 @ 12:16 pm
penny
five worth a dime and a name worth more than that if you love her but if you don’t pick them up you’ll never really know though can’t pick up every one of em either.
Posted By kuri On 09.16.2009 @ 3:56 pm
paperback
blossom
i watch the way lips move ungracefully lisp the way your mind thinks and tell it the way you think it is. i saw the contortions of your face re- flecting the way your immature heart felt.
i see you hurt by failure and lost by unforgiveness and you’re the most beautiful broken chandelier i’ve ever seen, your pieces are dashing the way they draw the purity of blood from my fingertips and the delightful sensation drawn from a heart that understands, my carnation yet i cannot forgive you because you were once the hurt that is in me now
Posted By kuri On 09.10.2009 @ 10:44 pm
knot
tightening each pull that intends a rip threads neatly intertwining in their rough embrace en- prison the tied up victim with melancholic knowledge of life that doesn’t change no matter how hard you pull
Posted By kuri On 09.09.2009 @ 5:39 pm
wanted
we fall in line the same straight told to us and tell ourselves we were meant for the end of this… whatever this is
we find the sides barren and the ground lackluster but flashy words that fuel our ambition push the soul even if the heart is dead and wanting the same wanted love it seems is so much in want nowadays
Posted By kuri On 09.08.2009 @ 8:08 pm
collar
my name, written in the perfunctory letters the same way every other name was written, on that band of silver lining around my neck and wrapped tightly though not too tight, not enough to make me want to leave, just enough to keep me just where it was necessary. locked in that cage unseen i lived my life until i knew
Posted By kuri On 09.06.2009 @ 2:24 pm
stereo
the kind of incessant buzzing that once was a life light to the wearied mind now sounds as an ugly hint of reminder shown clear by a seeing eye brightening the corpse lying on the floor and the blood on hands clenching on a knife with similar stains. loud never seemed so loud as today.
Posted By kuri On 09.04.2009 @ 1:33 pm
buzzing the connective wires invisibly woven by an imaginary spider that connects the sounds and images through a little black box we call entertainment left
to the prey of listing disorder that noises noises noises our minds into submissive decay
Posted By kuri On 09.03.2009 @ 2:30 pm
licorice
the awkwardly sealed plastic box of licorice sat on the counter looking like it wanted to melt, the day was so hot, and children crowded the sun-lit store with an elderly owner who watched for any thieves among the crowd. licking lips and dusty roads seem to await us in our world centered around licorice.
Posted By kuri On 09.02.2009 @ 2:22 pm
habitat
living species green and slipper- ree in their living spacieo- oous kind of place that’s only for them but we seem to like the stepping with bull- dozering life for our own life except it’s not really what you’d call it. faster faster faster with the amount of deaths we seem to cause i wonder what you’d call it.
Posted By kuri On 08.24.2009 @ 6:10 pm
bars
holding the metallic bars with clenching hands we seem to forget about the world within the dark and hope for the blue skies that we once thought we knew only thing is: we are in the belonging hole that welcomes our existence and we are the generation of damned that were born with the sole destiny of dropping ourselves off the cliff into the hole that we are in
Posted By kuri On 08.23.2009 @ 1:18 pm
gym
the rotting seats seem to heave in the same motion as the hulking figure performing repetitions of lifts. metal discs of uncountable weight. pumping the iron until time to head home to his trailer shack with his mother. he is the example for the teenagers and he is their respect. he is 31, single, bodybuilding ever since high school
Posted By kuri On 08.22.2009 @ 7:57 pm
destination
we walk where we cannot see and go towards the dark believe what we were told only hearing what we were told
halfway wondering if it’s really all there is and stopping to turn around only what’s behind looks quite similar to what’s ahead.
we find someone to walk with and suddenly it doesn’t really matter anymore where we’re going
Posted By kuri On 08.21.2009 @ 4:36 pm
coffin
it is old and rusted. the nail that seals the wooden box needs to be replaced.
“How much?” the old man said “it’s 300 dollars” a stout man just balding behind the counter said. peering over his newspaper nonchalantly tallying the amount. “alright”
the man took the box and left.
Posted By kuri On 08.19.2009 @ 4:37 pm
the green grassed field seems to lie calm under grey stains of rain
underneath this seemingly innocent lies the living dead that dance on a day when no living is present
hmm this is really random
Posted By kuri On 08.19.2009 @ 4:35 pm
gong
it seems to ring the same way that old bell rang except this time it’s real. it doesn’t blare but it has a deep intonation that seems to stir the water the same calm that seems to bring the tears to your eyes as the soul is stirred. a gong, an antique of the east that leaves you with rain greyed blurs that spell
Posted By kuri On 08.18.2009 @ 1:35 am
gong. it’s a gong. gong gong gong gong gong
they spin! they ring and drone and they… they…
victims of a half-naked man with a hat swinging his cotton stick
Posted By kuri On 08.17.2009 @ 9:34 pm
the man with the stick seems quite redundant in the repetitive striking motions made at the round plated metal disc that seems insistent on telling you intrusive sounds that drive everyone else into senseless acts of cultural significance the gathering of fools i should say
Posted By kuri On 08.17.2009 @ 1:06 pm
course
we follow the road that they set down before and the longer it goes the more it seems to turn even though they said it would go “straight” and after a while it seems that we’re not really getting anywhere are we? but where else do we have to turn? so we continue on and at the end we find out perhaps we really did follow the right road or perhaps we didn’t but don’t really know till that happens eh?
Posted By kuri On 08.16.2009 @ 11:26 pm
the yellow brick road is composed of broken branches and paved dirt by the steps of many that have taken it in the past.
of course, they walk their course. the one that was told to them and find themselves at the yellow brick wall. the same place everyone else seems to end up at.
“why not just go around?” one might ask.
“people can’t stray from their course” will be the inevitable reply
Posted By kuri On 08.16.2009 @ 12:30 pm
itch
red hill on your skin. waving hands to swat mosquitoes the scrt scrt sound of scratched dead skin flaking the air
purple hill on your skin. painfully massaging bruises, telling yourself that you’re “just rubbing”
Posted By kuri On 08.15.2009 @ 11:31 pm
close your eyes.
crawling all over. small legs that feather your skin. insectile vermin, fiends that do not belong all over your skin. they are there and you
well your eyes are closed.
your skin your skin red
Posted By kuri On 08.15.2009 @ 11:26 pm
the incessant twitching response, skin with a crawling sensation that drives the mind insane with hands that rub and legs that twitch
guided meditation is self-denial.
Posted By kuri On 08.15.2009 @ 11:21 pm
the swelling red back of my neck begs for the releasing scratch rub, anything anything
when it really needs an ointment specially-made to soothe the poison that hungers for a release
Posted By kuri On 08.15.2009 @ 11:15 pm
