hey peoples. I have moved blogging central to tumblr...

you can find it at stonewall.tumblr.com

or by linking through my new website :P

stonewallmonroe.com

something? something.

xerxes but not (a sonnet)

brother, thy anonymous name

selfless, selfish, (droplets falling)

run and run and run and run (droplets falling)

hang on a bit, a bitter fame

the existence of a plane

in which a house exists (droplets falling)

where the earth is steady (droplets falling)

where a man can be sane.

a home

not hurtling

just born

alone

not hurting

just morn

desert (a rondel)

come back to me

fill, rebuild an empty cup

and it is you that interrupt

why would you desire to be

any feat burdened by the sea

wind burns, and stings the lips

come back to me

fill, rebuild an empty cup

calloused by degree

cracked lines disrupt

cracked nails enough

lack taken for plenty

come back to me

smoke and mirrors. though I'm not quite sure what they are for. I've brought them.. here. if you were wondering. so now they are here. I have a jar of smoke. and a jar of mirrors. carefully and somewhat jealously I guard these little treasures. Ah via musicom. So much for luck. Anyway. it's true. I sometimes get worried and nervous. Though at the moment it seems that doubt which I sometimes have has attached itself to something different than usual. It seems that when I work out with my own brain the beneficial path, well, it doesn't quite work out that way. But maybe someday I'll get shoved in the right direction.

not sure how to name this

you are afraid of the cliff

I am afraid of the fall

you are afraid of the silence

i am afraid of the noise of

you are afraid of death

I am afraid of missing you

you are afraid of leaving

I am afraid of not missing you

come look at the moon through the window

see it smiles with a borrowed glory

the end is not beginning to learn

how to live with a broken hand

you’re broken at the gates

and offered all you’ve ever had

on broken plates

chipped and all you’ve been sad

come look at the moon through the window

see it smiles with a borrowed glory

the end is not beginning to learn

how to live with a broken hand

see the little girl play, she sings so sweetly

watch her feet play the sand and her eyes play the melody

come look at the moon through the window

see it smiles with a borrowed glory

the end is not beginning to learn

how to live with a broken hand

COPYRIGHT 2009 WILLIAM STONEWALL MONROE

magnete poetre

And after all this.

Are you living the dream. It isn't enough to sit there wholly contented with some societal measure of success. Once again being defined by that which does not define you. Wearing stiletto's on your ego doesn't make you any taller. This isn't to say that somehow you are the only measure by which you live. Find your definition. Make sure it isn't something that can change based on the weather or the radio.

flash photography.

just sayin. i mean. I just felt like saying flash photography.

fun with rhyming

medical mister

disastrous sister

a death of an enemy.

Cold and alone

in a race to the phone

and a trumped up dystrophy

raining and straining

too corrupt to defame

calling a name

the best, rest canopy.

Come away from the window - Christmas

The elderly woman lingered. She smelled of thrift shoppes and christmas. She must have delusions that such thing is a mark of beauty. Laid on so thick you can almost see the green tag sale and hear the bell ringers. He remembered. A dog. The door to the outside was oak, and it’s glory weighed upon him. Brushing some canine hair from his sleeve, he turned his attention upward. The chair leaned back a little far and fell. He lay, and as his allergies bothered him immensely, a sneeze arose within, he attempted to make contact. long… long… long... short. short. short. long. long. long. . . . attempting to escape cliché at the expense of nonsense.

hand soap and a scottish revolutionary.

why do you sit there like so many bubbles trapped in hand soap.

content, frozen by surrounding, encased in the plastic securities

that bring any other William Wallace to his knees crying for freedom.

a little gnome lore.

the poor little guys.

they never had a even a little chance.

little pointy hats.

green little shoes.

little rotund caricatures.

growing little beards.

saving for a little retirement.

in case of little on the job accidents.

that might happen on little adventures.

all to feed little gnome wives.

it's tough to lead little, gnome, lives.

title

I'm having trouble moving today.

There were orange bricks swimming in the Iowa river this morning.

Sea foam not produced by the sea sank downstream.

The gray sky smiles and innocently pretends ignorance.

and I seem to be having trouble moving today.

tra gnikam em dna arod dora and me making art

perhaps i ought not

perhaps I ought not what I oughtn't have done. but now is a time of review and cognizance of a cognitive dissonance in which my life can not simply be hanging by a thread, for if it were at least I would know what is holding it together. but more well better good i think that floating isn't something i'm doing, but rather a longer more depth of free fall in your hands.

Mr. Potato head picks his nose.

I suppose there is more to life than this.

searching for hay in a needle stack

I am looking for the hay in a stack of golden needles,

You are anything but ordinary, there is just so very much

You will be my, will be my. Every time I try, my hands come

wounded.

that once in the morning I would remember. call you let it fall.

failing to connect, and develop a sight for these things. chances are. well. chances. jump from a metaphorical bridge contrasting your life and mine. I landed on insecurity. He was well dressed with a shirt reading "Insecurity." Gonna hire him to be my bouncer.

melting

melting, slowly melting,

cracking, here I miss the

way. cold and freezing,

slowly melting, cracking,

things used to be so much,

dripping, slowly melting,

cracking, more now, than

here, residing, slowly melt

ing, cracking, where all there

is to think of is one more way

in which the me failed the you,

one more way in which the now

tried to soon to reflect a future then.

the sandcastle adventure

everytime. everytime. everytime, I tell you. everytime puma-man tells me about a caper, inevitably it inextricably evolves into something quite more intense than originally intended. or at least conveyed. we ended up demolishing the taco bell with fast acting termites, burying it in the bottom of the ocean and waiting about five minutes, and then digging up the remains of the ill-fated restaurant and made a sand castle out of it's now sand like remains. or maybe we couldn't find where we buried it, so we just used regular sand. either way. it ended up being large enough we hired an entire team of alphabet soup noodles to make a sign, and we sold tacos across the street from where the old taco bell used to be. except we made fish tacos. puma-man likes fish. so much so that then we grew some gills and went swimming in the gulf for hours and he told me all about jellyfish. ok, i know what you say, you can't grow gills. that's true, we actually bartered for them. I gave my lungs to a bluegill in exchange for it and its brother's gills. puma did the same, except with a clown fish. yeah.

the chase

so there i was, in the middle of campus, and all of the sudden, i hear this roaring screeching sound. kind of sounded like a gorilla pounding on a whiteboard. scratch that, not that squeaky, more like a gorilla pounding on a chalkboard. a chalkboard with a portion of the sistine chapel copied onto it. or something. anyways. naturally i turn around, and what do i see? it turned out to be a renoir copy. i think it was this one ( http://www.zona-pellucida.com/renoir-claudepainting.html ). And then this four legged puma-man leaps out from behind a bus and starts chasing me. luckily i had a boomerang in my backpack, so i knocked this birdhouse off of a post and it hit the puma-man right on the noggin. thereabouts anyways. welp, that slowed him down a bit, then i was able to duck in the restroom for some much needed rest, and again, luckily, he was recovering right as i was finishing resting. so we had a grand ole chase and then we took a break to take a nap. tomorrow i think we are going to build a sand castle in front of taco bell. sort of a protest or something.

straight lines and rows of chairs.

they gather solitarily in solidarity their

respective armies waiting in consternation.

Disrespective of percepted or actual.

ah, without, lacking any sense of outside.

My favorite use of lined paper is writing

with disregard for the lines. with disregar-

-d for an arbitrary organization. let me move this chair over here.

one, two, three. hmm... about 7th from the left.

(lamp)

for that which everyone but them seems to grasp, (home)

(street lamp) (road)

(s)omehow (fence)(gate)(fence)(fence)(fence)

(tree) rn|ng, [fe

(d)irely, yea- nce]

(e)arnes|ly, [fen

(w)ho need; those ce]

(tree) fo|lowing, [fenc (tree)

(l) not care for those e]

(k) the roa| seems to (house)

ah, clarification is nice.

I'm pretty much certain that I like eggplant, and if a can of food started talking to me, I wouldn't be terribly surprised.

post 100

is life, too much to ask

Ís this, too such to mask

that I would, but which I not

That which I know

That which I see

all

seems

a darker shade

A lighter grey, lit

seems

that yet again, I wake too soon

that yet again, I wake too soon,

woken by a broken hollow,

the hole is through my side

sleep feels more empty

and waking fails to comfort.

here I hope that I can be

bleeding out to see you live

a one way mirror would be nice

ah if only i could sit

not concerned for your thoughts, and you not see me

if only could i leave

you to yourself and not continually drag me here

if could i only beg

that you forget my existence, a peril would i hold,

dear,

if i could only keep

my expressions from being seen, for then what

i could only keep if

you couldn't

broken flower

and all I wanted

All I wanted

I wanted

wanted

Here I stand, with my head in my hands,

trying to see, to see you live

Empty, broken shells surround

surround, walk once more, surround

shotgun through my hands, maybe that’ll be the day

and all I wanted

All I wanted

I wanted

wanted

Everything these hands, touch,

it turns to dust, and turns to dust

Empty, broken shells surround

surround, walk once more, surround

This chair that I sit in creaks, sounds just like I feel

and all I wanted

All I wanted

I wanted

wanted

and all I wanted

All I wanted

I wanted

wanted

and all that I can think to say is sorry

please i need to find the stem of this (broken) flower

and find the hand of God to sew it back

please God i’m a broken flower

but you can leave me here to stay in this madness

please take this one back to your heart

(i been wrestling with swine, my dear, i fear

to find myself the same

an animal loosed, taken with wine,

find myself taken by shame)

Don’t look back, for all you will see

I sit here with these splintered pieces of

a shattered man in my arms

they sit with nothing to put them back

in this fairy tale, smashed them with my fist

but that’s not what I wanted

All I wanted

I wanted

wanted

and all I wanted

All I wanted

I wanted

wanted

why...

hardest to find; closest.

most painful; dearest.

dumbest; hopefulest.

learning; collateral damage.

closest; hardest to find.

the alphabet and what have you

a b c (d) e f g h i j {k} l m {n} {(o)} p q r s t [u] v {w} x y z

and what have you.

just because you can't see me, doesn't mean i can't see you.

processing...

i dont no if i can.

u ckeep ascking, and i dont no if i can.

thair is a loaf uv bread sitting on the neural pathways to get thair.

it is possible. it could be possible. it might be possible.

i dont no if i can.

there she is and now i see her killing snow

slowly,

slowly,

drifting now,

killing the snow,

i wish she would be,

killing the snow,

it falls,

and chokes,

and freezes my heart,

in a bleak mid-dream,

the sun is black with,

cold is coming,

closing,

closing,

drifting now,

killing the snow,

midnight sun

Î dont know W hat love is

chameleon

i'm a chameleon, and as such, am not human, and have no right to a fair trial. in a city i am as human as humanity can be when it is absorbed through the senses. place me in a field and i am the grass. hold me to the sky and i'll be blue for you. place me within your dreams, i'll be beautiful. living with birds and i will learn to sing. in recognition of this, i am moved to trap myself with the life owned by others. a man without passion is hardly a man at all, then i am less of a man than most. but living among the passionate, i learn passion and someday yearn to be human. perhaps someday i will be able to confuse my camouflage reflexes by the sheer eclectic enormity of the life i pursue. then perhaps i will wake up and be human. unable to nur* reflect any longer, this survival mechanism will self destruct, vielleicht*. Ich habe keine* idea what the limit is. what the reflexes can handle. at what point, it wurde schwerig*. At which time, i will live.

*only

perhaps

i have no

becomes difficult (or heavy)

five year

i havent seen a rabbit in five years
its hard to see how they even move
under all that... fur.

I demand nothing less than brilliance. do you understand? Keeps marching around the front and says

Forget all your nonsense. this is what matters. that could only account for about less than 1/2 of what's really going on. i wonder if he (she?) realizes that pronouns may or may not be really useful. i wonder if she (he?) knows that sheet music is an instantaneous frequency domain representation. probably not.

There's no-one else in this room excepting me and (her?) him. not to say i am confused as to his (her?) gender. it just isn't important. there are certain aspects of femaleness (maleness?) that capture the movement, the tone, better.

better never than now. that's what the always say. i think i'll go home.

lalalala

lalalalala

sometimes i think that abstract is a fancy way of saying that something makes no sense to you, but you can see there is some semblance of sense to be made.

lalalalala

falling.

there he ran straight towards

the edge of a cliff and fel

_____________________l down

isolation

patience (child,) she'll be here soon. then you can sleep.

the (good) seconds fall (bye). (one) after the other,

(day)s at a while. taken back (whe)re (n)o-one

(of patience) will hold you from (you)r (dream)s.

(now)

should have been there

(should) have

been there

should('ve) been,

there should've

(been) there

should've been

(there) should

have been.

the (h)aunts me. the word should be there, but now it leaves, now it returns. who told it where to go. i didn't have the nerve to ask it to come back. didn't have the nerve, did not, have, the nerve. should is showled is should again.

paralysis

he (jesus) cursed them with a forgotten grave

you believe you already live there.

feeling towards the light,

floor, sawdust, oil and nails

at least here I am safe

the forest is blind to me

the room makes no motion

this is a grave, but I know it is a grave.

my hands can feel the lack of space. my fingernails the atmosphere.

but at least i know. and nobody cries over a forgotten grave.

There is nothing seen, nothing smelt, nothing felt, nothing tasted.

The ice cream truck is outside, the familiar strain strikes me

Particularly peculiar.

yet nobody cries over a forgotten I am so lost in here. and I wish.

blood drives from my veins as a melody drives me in a direction I hope is forward.

rain, rain, rain, rain, rain.

there is a leak in the ceiling of my forgotten tomb.

blood drives from my veins as a melody drives me in a direction I hope is forward.

yet nobody laments a lost tomb.

and I wish.

it's official, I'm losing my mind

it's official, I'm losing my mind. It packed up its bags this morning and said,

i just don't feel like this is working anymore.

sad day.

it's not you, it's me.

dang straight it's you. my mind has been crying for the past three weeks about how i never listen, never seem to be trying to make this thing work out, and I've been trying to make it see. brought it flowers, a nice red bouquet of roses. Now it's lying to me, and leaving.

i just feel like we've grown apart.

if by growing you mean you've stabbed a wooden stake in my forehead, that's a fair assessment.

i'll call in a couple of weeks once i've found a place to live.

as if that makes it better that somehow my ability to reason has found a more stable home than me.

i think that maybe we should have gone to counseling.

you and me both. this was suggested months ago by my spinal chord (cord? maybe that's why it hates me, never could spell its name right), but we (mind and myself) were too busy drinking coffee and staring coldly at a table pretending everything was ok so that the extremities wouldn't notice.

take care of the toes for me

they always were your favorite. you liked those toes more than anything else in the world. don't know what you saw in them. maybe if you hadn't spent so much time on the toes, we could have worked this out. I could have started working out more. I realize that I've let myself go, but I eat because I'm depressed, and I'm depressed because I eat (and because you don't even have the time to tell me good night.).

i'll send a post card.

love hurts

am i really that obvious

i'd like to think so, but i'd hate for you to see

crushed beneath

you're beautiful, 

falling under,

smile out loud,

unrequited love hurts.

it's a sunny day in hell

a glimpse becomes a glance

and all euphoric wonder(sy)

broke i feel, i'm requiting your pain, I'd hate for you 2 be

crushed beneath

you're beautiful, 

falling under,

smile out loud,

unrequited love hurts.

a hollow light

is it raining
and I could stand here and be the one that no longer thinks of anything
are you standing there
and we could be standing for what feels like an afternoon
is it warm outside
and this could be walking like all the false pretenses I've held about
let me,
hold your hand
peace be still and there
's never enough for me
i hated to give
frozen in anger there
giving in with
a hollow light

take it back, take it back
you don't really love me
take it back, take it back
those tears that you're cryin
burning your side, let me

hold your hand
peace be still and there
's never enough for me
i hated to give
frozen in anger there
giving in with
a hollow light

drifting

So many places that go

here, here , here , here ,

is that anyway to treat a friend

how do you live without

smile that failed expectation

grasp that failed excitation

take it all out, and in the end and the in between

it feels like drifting.

outside

outside (windows and frames, light shattered on the sill)

There inside

once more, once more, once again,

and fallen.

shards

broken vessel

hold more

(can a) over

and more filled than...

(more whole) than

desperate (I can hear the echoes of my future self in the next room)

laid out peculiar

she loves

she loves.

she...

...loves, she loves

she loves, she loves, she loves.

paradise and a moment from now are almost the same place.

paradise is probably a few measures of distance to the left though.

Poor lines on the street never get to have much fun, though they

enjoy the rain. warm, cold, lovely february rain. and I speak, being born in april.

losing

losing grip, my fingers slide over the surface. surrounding, abounding, yet losing grip.

still, sweet, 's wonderful how you smile, and I could never be happier for you

fine.  fine.

Know that I am here for you, as long as your here to have me here for you.

I wanna be your world.  but unfortunately, this has nothing to do with you. I want to be you.

Maybe, if you were treated as more than a luxury, maybe.

sorry.  sorry.

my bad.

old post made new

cell for solitary 

confinement in the library

time traveling/

fossilized/ 

pants

o-o <- that is a barbell and I don't like titles sometimes

that just feels like 

going down the drain

and wishful thinking turned into a

lost center of I wished you here and now my

finger is in the wall but I'm on the other side and I 

am drowning here while you paint the levee red.

there isn't just 

and maybe if

that was pretty definite, though.  see it

going down the drain.

you...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HFoFR1BYpLA

there was something

There was something I meant to say.

Then my voice began talking.  

Then words were formed as if they were intended.

Then intentions were formed as if they were meant.

Their mentions became something.

Then you listened

stuff and a picture

people don't like to be told what is clearly nonsense(about the way they think they operate).

and now the picture

"sorry to a friend"

I should be doing something else

but love and love and love

and I cry like a baby, oh do I cry

when think upon just how beautiful you are

and love but love but love

holds you still just for thinking

and I cry like a baby, oh do I cry

just to think that you think that too

when love and love but love

comes and grabs a hold 

and I cry like a baby, oh do I cry

when it brings me to my tears

and I listened to you writing in the room next to me.  I hope that you didn't mind.

a little experiment

the one thing

I know that you want

the one thing I can't give

without denying you 

Genuine ()

I know that you want

Genuine ()

without denying you 

the one thing

the one thing I can't give

Knock the wind out of me (lyric version)

Knock the wind out of me

Is this redemption just a candy for my mind

thought you were burned from there long, long, ago

   are you still beautiful or is this misrecall.

Never is the only way you ever leave

if breath were mine it leaves in disrespair

   do you still laugh

 

Knock the wind right out of me

Somehow thought enters the mind

The concrete presses down (toward) the line

Mistaken jade to breathe

Head down, crawl through meant to be

Sew me back and set me walking

 

on my face, and love that will not loosen

chains me here, higher than I fly

only in a mad man’s mind does 4 proceed 3

 

Knock the wind right out of me

Somehow thought enters the mind

The concrete presses down (toward) the line

Mistaken jade to breathe

Head down, crawl through meant to be

Sew me back and set me walking

 

Is this coincidence divine

threw away your photograph some  time ago

   and at 24 degrees, breath falls

 

COPYRIGHT 2009 WILLIAM S. MONROE

I Wanted More for You

I hope you understand(now)

you have everything (you 

wanted) you needed so  

much ( more [(than)]) I Wanted More for You much

of this  blinding  weary  falls  upon  the  scales upon mine eyes

upon your breath up on

that life you

call your own you call

and all (there is to give) isn't me

Or Mine, Or

hold this skeleton and it. can let you

down... down

Response....(ible)

So 

is this what it means to be responsible.

Take what is in your hand and give it to the closest

Open and buffet yourself with a handshake and a nod.

"This bit might be the one you want, sir." offered helpfully.

What is full is clearly what needs to be poured.

What is empty needs filling.  My cup is full,

here have some of this, otherwise I might

spill it on the floor.  That would just be

messy. 

or is that something else.

unchain my heart (a collaboration with my momma)

Candy: dialogue within a split mind

LT: Is this redemption just a candy for my mind

GN: thought you were burned from there long, long, ago

   are you still beautiful or is this misrecall.

LT: (2:) Never is the only way (1:) you (3:) ever (4:) leave

GN: if breath were mine it leaves in disrespair

   do you still laugh

you...

And all that you had wished that I would say

never w(ever)ould enter my mind

And all the kinds of things that I should

do never w(ever)ould come to

be And all the man that I co-

uld be never w(ever)ould

happen to be me And the

life that so desperately

wishes itself upon me

never w(ever)ould

Allexceptforthisonelittlething

things only strangers (would believe)

An audible voice woke me up

today.  it said "Hey''

it Wasn't mine 

I repeated the word once 0r twice

Or thrice perhaps

before (and after) [ testing]

but  it  wasn't M - ine 

and  love  is  golden  and you are beautiful  ( 

)

the mother of - a sonnet (or rather a feeble attempt at maintaining an artificial rhyming scheme)

Necessity is no longer necessary

I've lost mind (my)

You hold mine (  )

Take this airy

Thought of you as ordinary

Norm to the lost find

Finest to the fine

Bold of you as contrary

Hope would ever be for you

To learn this 

Come in

Do

you really expect his

Life to be open

fridays - my first (intentional attempted) rondel

That which is left up and gone

A belief on a misunderstanding

A life on a misunderestimating

Far and far and left and left alon(e)

Ever so much that remains is wrong

hands and ears are (so much) ever wringing

That which is left up and gone

A belief on a misunderstanding

One knee down on the lawn

An open case and a mispurchasing

An open life and a (mis)thinking

One knee down on

That which is left up and gone

inept

(please)

with (don't) me please

toy

toy

love is but a fragile pain intent 

on shattering my 

discontent

and I (violently) do need 

somehow do (self) wish.

(please) 

that it could be this.

some fun I had

3

2

1

Everyone and Everything

Around the corner stands aman

with  everything  and everyone 1  9  ^ (in) his left pocket

if he would just let it g -

o

if he would

call him, if you please.

See if he answers your voice

See (C) if he answers.

And all that.

the mother wakes

rest child

rest

goodnight

goodbye

one of ninety-five by E.E. Cummings

1:

l(a

le

af

fa

ll

s)

one

l

iness

--E.E. Cummings

brahm

I've looked in that closet already.

checked it once more, still empty.

Someday I know it will be full of magic.

Maybe here is some magic that I can stick in there.  It'll be happy in there.

There you go. be happy closet.

No, not magic.

checked it once more, still empty.

Someday I know it will be full of magic.