Written in Joy

like the kitchen window of my childhood home, when the evening sun fell sideways landing through the glass turning dust to fire.

i remember standing there- barefoot on cool linoleum, the backyard stretching out past the fig trees, and the cinder-block fence that held in nothing but our small idea of the world.

we were laughing at something- i don’t remember what -and that’s how it is. the words go first -while the light stays.

for a moment everything was suspended- the hum of cicadas, the slow drift of smoke from a neighbor’s burn pile, my father’s voice somewhere behind me singing to no one in particular.

and within that square of gold i believed- without effort, without question that this was it. this warmth that could not possibly end. this sky beyond the fence had chosen us for its forever.

but the light shifted, as it always does. the sun slipped lower. the room cooled- and the laughter quietly moved into memory.

love is not the years that follow. It is the way the air felt in that narrow band of evening- how your face held the sun, how my chest ached with something too large to name.

love is a window in time. -we do not live there.

a moment just for us a special love blossoms through the years i will always pause and thank you for the kindness nestled in each heart

my heart races at the thought of it.

i can’t see my own face without a mirror- why should a poem of mine look back at me with any hint of grace?

the words once came like whispers- a ghost leaning close as i walked through my day. now the voice is faint, an echo from a hallway i can no longer quite discern.

age has thinned the distance between silence and despair. i fumble for meaning, for the leap my younger self once made without thinking.

One for the ages but I lost count, lost track

standing in the new world

forgetting what I came for

following the only drum I knew

quarter notes for the old guard

keeping time

There are names on here and blogs in this post that I wish everyone on tumblr knew and had the pleasure to read!! RTV was STACKED with talent that I'd still to this day put against most literary mags!! I miss those on this list not on tumblr anymore! Once a part of Recognizing The Voiceless...always RTV!! We grew even bigger after this post. I need to get back to RTV posting for a few!! I hope it lives forever. Anyone wanting to join to keep the love alive just reach out to me and I'll see if I can remember how to add you! ;-)

Kevin (Creator) - takingstockofwhatmattersmost

Rachael - mobbleberry

Antoinette - innermedley

Joy - aquietjoy

Sunny - lessons-in-morbidity

Sarah - flightedd

Roggy - roggyscanvas

Carole - the-third-way

Dennis - therealvagabondking

Elianna(R.I.P.) - sheddinpetals

Rueberry - the-mind-of-rueberry

Will - fromtheheartofmymind

Nikz - thewritersaddress

Matt - matt-is-just-around-the-corner

 Ethiel - ethielswords

Krystal - neverthegreyer

Shermeanuhh - shermeanuhh.tumblr.com

Noelle - ordinarywonder

Erin - misserinscott

Maryanne - homosexualheartthrob

Matt - raisethecurve

Meg - thedevilsprostitute

Sanam - alfaazkibarsaat

Brian - h0wls-with-w0lves

Keri - aswiftsunset

Solange - shesanargonaut

Cari - anonymole

Aditi - esn13

George - ink-slinger12

Tony - lonestardown

Alex - littleact

Jayla - poemsofthequiet

Ann - sanddollarpoems

Wolfie - desayunogratis

Christine - myphantomlimbs

Jas - jasremindmetobreathe

Vanessa - returnpoint

Peaches - kudipeaches

Amy - myalphabetinmotion

Alexandra - hercautionarytales

Shellie - battlingsunlight

Lauren - lzlabs

Frankie - wordsforspring

James - introversionofateenagepoet

Janie - republicofthebees

Colin - thelostboy1795

Sweet, sweet Elianna. I can’t believe you’ve been gone almost as many years as we had you.

“Adventures Through the Multiverse”

Joy looks up as the console beeps, alerting her to the fact that one of the spheres within her holo-map of the giant, seemingly limitless Multiverse has registered a hit… She touches the sphere to check the data, and it’s clear: she found yet another version of herself in a parallel reality.

And now, just like before, there is only one option: she must murder this version of herself before this version of her kills her own version of herself first.

Since discovering the methods and technology that could enable one to travel between the various alternate universes via the nebulous void that connects all versions of reality, Joy quickly came to the realization that if this version of herself could make this discovery, then the other Joys could too…

And as her first thought immediately was “I must kill them and rob them of their life savings before they do the same to me”, she knows it was likely their first thought as well.  And so, obviously, the only proper thing to do is to find them and kill them first (which the other Joys may rudely be trying to do to her as well).

Luckily, in all of the Multiverses she’s found herself in so far, she is the first version of herself to make this discovery and has gotten the jump on every single version of Joy she has encountered yet.  Most weren’t even scientists working on the Hidden Multiverse Project, so it was comically easy to take advantage of their shock from realizing they were seeing a perfect replica of themselves and shoot them in the face before they could even process it.

Or, she’d pretend that she was them from the future and that she needed their help to save the galaxy, and then they’d foolishly trust her as she lured them to a safe place for her to shoot them in the face.

From there, she’d pose as herself and withdraw all of that parallel reality’s Joy’s money from the bank, and then escape back into the nebulous void before anyone’s the wiser and on her way to a new universe, with a new Joy to kill…

Since she’s only killing and robbing herself, it’s perfectly okay, Joy reasons.  It’s a victimless crime.

And there just isn’t room in the Multiverse for two Joys to exist peacefully.  She knows it, they’d know it, and ya know what?  It’s a shame but dangit it’s just a fact of life.  There can only be one.

With the wormhole closing around her and having successfully escaped back into the nebulous void after yet another murder/robbery, Joy smiles as she crosses another Joy off the list…

831 Joys dead, and only possibly an infinity left to go.

Posted 6/28/2012

Finding old mix tapes Makes you nostalgic for how Lame you used to be.

“Stranded on the Moon, High on Blur, and Watching World War 3 Destroy the Earth”

Funding for the International Moon Base had hit an all-time low. 

Though it was long his childhood dream to live upon the moon, the missions have become longer, rations and supplies scarcer, and a quirk in the rotations schedule has left him alone upon the moon for the last 8 months.  

He’s now nothing more than a glorified caretaker of an expensive relic that no one wants to pay for.

To pass the time, he has developed a strong addiction to “Blur”– an opiate-like hallucinogen administered through an eye dropper that creates warm soothing visions for hours a dose. 

He rationalizes his addiction by telling himself that the drug causes him to breathe less of the air supply, and eat less food… which are both true, but only helps obscure the lie. 

Month after month, the scheduled date to bring him back to Earth is pushed out further into the future as a tense political climate back home has made him a low priority.  8 months in solitude on the moon become 12, and then 16.  In month 18, World War 3 erupts across the globe.

He watches the bombs destroy everything he once loved all through the blissful haze of Blur induced visions.  The indescribable mix of sheer horror and pleasure will haunt him for the rest of his days. 

By month 34, he is the last human in the galaxy.

(Starring the Timetraveler Ki! Click here to download his new song “Nebula” on iTunes)

* This- script & soundtrack;  follow and play immodestly as backdrop for your life, artist - ad captandum.

They- readers, listeners, lovers; enraptured by you, to whom they’d gladly attend again & again - ad infinitum.

There - your mind, a vehicle if not yours, then whose will craft, position, to shuttle them to vistas beyond - ad astra?

These - windows into & out of themselves; through whose shall they peer, if not yours onto conceptual carpets, soaring o'er tough times & terrain, toward sunsets - ad lucem?

Those - secrets seated in your work; solitary sensations, snippets they savor unto satiation, submitting to your mystical markings - ad meliora.

Thus - your sisyphean path trod in trepidation - as is this question sought by those you serve: name your muse among muses whom we’d do well to admire and ingest, yet - ad valorem.

Enraptured followers ad captandum

in continuing quest ad infinitum

on a journey to the stars ad astra

in search of light ad lucem

to expand their paradigm ad meliora

for their intrinsic, honorable purpose; ad valorem

fueled by fertile fruit of creative souls ad augusta, per angusta

until our dying breath; ad mortem

asserting the universal cry:

Come crash into my atmosphere

Our every step, a choice

Fierce, fervent, fiery

Unafraid of the burn of the singe

For we know inside the sacred flame

Of our union

Is divine alchemy

That sort that leaves us both

Remade holy

Reborn whole

A love of a hundred lifetimes

A lifeline in the dark

And I choose you every time

her dresses hung like ghosts in the hallway and the piano played itself

i watched her slowly forget the taste of spring as if petals had betrayed her

rain came, yes but not the kind that cleanses the kind that makes wood rot in secret

she said love is just a long funeral with good music and i laughed because i knew she was right

we tried once to outdrink the silence but silence has patience and whiskey doesn’t remember promises

now the roses are dry their red curled inwards like regret and the garden doesn’t bloom without her hands

there’s still a chair at the window still her shadow at 3am but even shadows grow tired of waiting