I think it's snowing
I've been sittin' for a while...
In some same old space...
And I've forgotten where I'm going...
And I've forgotten where I've been...
I think it's started to snow...
But the cold has made me to numb to really know...
No...
I can see it falling...
It's snowing, I'm sure of it...
What was I talking about?
I forget...
Do I know you?
What are you doing here?
You're not from around here.
I would know, I was born here...
I wasn't?
What are you talking about?
Glory? What's that?
Who are you?
God? I don't know that I've ever heard of you...
I can't feel you.
I can't see you.
I can at least see the snow...
What?
Skittles?...
Oh, no. I don't remember...
You did what?!
When?!
I'm sure I would remember that.
I don't.
Where am I going?
Oh, I don't know... I don't think I'm going anywhere...
I've always lived here.
Who are you?
God?
Can't say that I ever heard of that.
What?
I've never met you?
New around here?
Been here a while... forever, you say.
Hmphf... I doubt that.
It seems a bit too cold for someone like you.
The snow is falling, can you feel it?
Yeah? I can't.
Yeah.
Oh, no... I have no idea...
Who are you?
God... I don't believe you.
Where is your flag?
Where is your army?
Glory?... What's that?
Who are you?
God.
Hmmm...
I was born here... I've always lived here... I think I'll die here.
Who are you?
God?
I had a dog once... Is that what you mean... you have a dog.
No. I'm not a dog.
God?
Go away... I'm tired. Stop bothering me.
It's too cold for this conversation right now.
Oh wait... I do remember you.
But I don't think I ever knew you... not really... I only recognize your face.
Were we friends?
Oh...
You tried?... I think I would remember that.
Did you just say "hi" ?
No?... Hmmm... that would have worked.
Oh? You healed me of... You could have just prevented that-
Doesn't make much sense:
to be happy over the healing of sickness you allowed.
Oh, you let me hurt? So that I'd turn to you?
You could have just said "hi"... I would have remembered that.
Who are you?
Oh... this makes sense.
It doesn't really.
In heaven- that's a long while to wait...
And I'm not even sure I'll move from here...
I was born here, and I've lived here my whole life.
Hold out my heart?
Are you insane... You have done nothing to prove yourself.
Oh... that feeling...
Yeah, I remember that... I guess.
But that was a long time ago... when I didn't live here.
I can feel that again?
Well, you know what they say... It isn't about the feeling...
Yeah. About love.
You want my constant love?
How can someone so inconsistent in showing me they care expect so much.
So what if you are God?...
The angels really know you... why would a whole third run from you?
Seems dramatic...
If you are really everything I could ever want- why didn't they want you?
I don't mean to be rude-
I don't mean to insult... I just really don't get it.
Is it wrong for me to ask?
Who are you?
Oh, you want me to walk with you?
To where? To you? But you're right here...
I don't get it.
Who are you?
It's snowing, you know.
Can you feel it... No, I suppose you can't.
Oh, you felt that?! You know, others were crucified.
You know, others died horrible deaths too.
I had a friend brought back to life- by a doctor and those metal pad things.
What makes you so special?
Yeah, that feeling... well, that's not always there.
You are?
Hmmm... You should have just said "hi"
I would have remembered that.
Your ways higher than mine?... yeah, I suppose that's true.
But so high that I can't reach 'em?
So high I can't even see 'em?
Hmmm... Who are you?
Well... I guess I'll sit and listen...
I'll wait, everyone deserves a chance...
But be quick... I'll die soon.
I think it's snowing.
JP Quay, 12-12-04
---
Back to Oz
Walking down a corridor.
turn.
Look back, and see the mirror at the end of the hall.
reflection waning, waxing, waning.
Ghostly hold.
"That's me" it cries, I cry... I'm crying now.
That's me.
And wandering where, but going nowhere.
Discontent and disconnected.
The circadian rhythm pulsing me to sleep- awake- asleep
but where is the rest... God peace me my rest.
I do not know anymore where the dream ends, where daylight begins.
I keep thinking I've woken up, but really I'm still in the dream.
I just want to wake up, wake up for real this time.
Eyes open, but can not move. Seeing what I can not have.
Coma, death, surreal and overbearing life.
Comes rushing in, like a leg asleep reviving- painful tingle and I'm awoken.
Who are you?
Who are all of you?
I want to go back to Oz.
Eyes searching desperately, but I'm still on a cornfield-
I'm a still on a fucking cornfield.
Tighten my ribs, my lungs expanding too fast.
Somewhere over the rainbow, my ass.
Hack and hack, and that's how it came to pass.
I look into your eyes- what secrets lie there?
I dropped the disguise- what secrets lie there?
Which lies drop where in these eyes of disguise that raped my heart.
I don't want to remember that, in a dream, how it hurt.
Wanting safety in unveiling arms surrounding a broken soul-
And an unanswered phone sways in my mind- maybe again.
Maybe the same.
Is this the same dream, in new colours.
Let me go.
I want to go back to Oz.
...And in Happy Sappy Psych Ward Chairs
I learn new stares, blank happy sappy stares.
And nobody cares about all the ripping tears.
Tear drops happy sappy sawing through a fleshy flailing cheek.
"you are just unique"
"you are just a freak"
Who are you?
And the mirror flashes back, and my eyes reveal the self.
And I cry, and scream out as if this is hell.
I just want to be.
. . .
And there is a silence and my blood runs aways from me.
And the tears fly too.
Ran away with the moon.
And with these last breaths forced through bloody flesh.
Exhale... and back to Oz.
JP Quay, 3-5-05
---
A week, maybe two
I'm so tired of you.
I'm so tired of letting you hurt me.
Why do I let you in?
Why do I let you make me sad?
I've pulled myself away so many times.
You keep coming back.
I burst in tears and curse the world.
You grow silent.
A week passes, maybe two;
and you suddenly re-appear.
I had thought it was over...
I had thought I'd never see you again.
I don't want your words.
Loving remarks that shave the top layer of my skin right off.
I don't want you.
I don't want you anymore.
I don't want anyone.
I don't want anyone anymore.
I don't care.
Loneliness is friendly in my moments without you.
A friend I fully welcome.
Loneliness is safe, familiar, controlled.
You disrupt, make me crazy- steal my sanity.
I freak out, curse, get angry, curse the world.
You vanish-
for a week, maybe two.
Like a whisper no one hears,
A whisper no one hears, but is seen by all.
You aren't supposed to be.
Go away.
Stop penetrating my dreams.
Stop breaking through my thoughts.
You don't love me, stop pretending.
I don't want you to love me, stop pretending.
Fake, you're so fake.
I can't tell.
I don't understand.
The world is turning the wrong way.
I'm losing balance.
I'm falling.
Let go of me.
Let go of my heart.
It isn't yours.
I never gave it to you.
Let it go.
I want the feeling to leave.
My back is not a glove for your hands.
Get your taste out of my mouth,
Your reflection out of my eyes.
It's been so long.
It's been too long.
Broken dreams.
Dysfigured realities.
You are never what I wanted.
You are a thief.
Jerk.
Liar.
Why is my heart still beating faster.
Stop being.
I feel like I will burst.
I want to die.
No words, but you're still so loud.
Get out.
For every time I opened my heart to you,
You pointed out it's tarnished parts.
For every moment I wasted thinking you were "it,"
and I was only one in the line.
For all the perfect hopes distressed,
you blasphemed my senses.
Never look to me again.
I am closed off.
No one look to me again.
None of you are mine.
I refuse to be yours.
Silent, hermit, lone-
I will hide myself away.
No one can know me.
I can't trust them with it.
I can't trust them with me.
I won't trust them.
I won't give them the right to hurt me.
Loneliness is a friend.
Loneliness is my friend.
My eye is leaking again.
Crap, my tears are flooding the room again.
I can't swim.
Didn't you know I can't swim.
You should have known I can't swim.
I'm going to drown!
I want to drown.
I want home.
I curse the world.
And you all are silent.
A week, maybe two.
And God is silent.
A week, maybe two.
So now I'll be silent.
A week, maybe two.
And perhaps I'll finally die-
In a week, maybe two.
JP Quay, 9-5-04
---
I Am Young
I grew up on a one way street, in the midst of a town where the cars whiz by.
Families playing in the park across the street,
I hear the train pass, just a few streets down, every night-
I fall asleep to it.
Lying in my bed listening to that train,
I'm kept warm by a blanket my Pop-pop Quay once used,
Reading a bible that was also my Nana Quay's first,
Setting it on the bureau passed down from my great grandparents,
The bureau is next to a cedar chest, my Pop-pop Hunter's,
The curtains on the windows, my Nana Hunter's,
A quilt on the cedar chest that belonged to my other great grandparents,
A dresser that my siblings' diapers were changed on,
A picture from my parents' wedding,
My baby book sits closed, close to the photos of my nieces and my nephew,
"I wonder why Aunt Patti and Uncle Earl aren't doing family reunions anymore."
"I'm not too fond of Uncle Todd's new wife."
I hear the train pass, just a few streets down, tonight.
I fall asleep to it.
I'm told I have the Native American Cheeks (I had the Native American mohawk for a while too),
I'm made fun of for being Irish and yet detesting potatoes,
I love that my Nana Quay says "Outen the Lights" -she's so Penna Dutch,
I take pride in my Scottish royal roots,
but told to forget the Welsh part,
I speak French, but not a drop in me- my Pop-pop Hunter learned French in France (WW II),
I pretended to have an English accent for an entire week once- Britain, so close,
I went to a Messianic Jewish synagogue for a time, but hardly know the Jewish Parts of me,
But the sacrifices, the pain, tears and terror, joy, shame, elation, and separation of the many that have shifted and tangled, woven together in the image I see in the mirror... is overwhelming.
My grandmother grew up in the same town as me...
I wonder if she fell asleep to the sound of the train- as it passed,
just a few streets down, every night.
JP Quay, 1-27-04
---
Walking on the shattered shell of self
Walking on the shattered shell of self
my feet are sometimes pierced.
Lined with layers ripped from flesh,
a carpet made solely of death.
This once was me, but is no more,
tear stained carcass of past.
But sometimes striking new-streaming blood,
it haunts my present pass.
I am renewed and freshly bursting forth,
but no amnesia strikes this mind.
I have been changed, broken and forgiven,
but I know where I have come from.
I see the agony on tear drenched faces,
others still trapped in my same past-
It hurts to speak it, remembering so hard,
testimony breaking their faceless masks.
My pain, their venue of confession,
I am free, and affirming so can they be.
so can they be.
JP Quay, 1-28-04
---
Sometimes when the breeze is blowing
Sometimes when the breeze is blowing... I forget to fly a kite.
Sometimes when the wind is flowing... I forget everything's alright.
Sometimes when I feel His presence... I hide from his sight.
Sometimes when the Spirit is moving... I hide from the light.
Sometimes I can't conquer the world... will I ever get it right.
Sometimes I can't live my life... I'm too absorbed in fright.
What if one day I would look past these things? What if one day I realized.
But then my life would mean nothing; all my ways just lies.
I must attempt. I must keep going. The pain is not too much if I can just survive.
JP Quay, 1-14-04
---
I Will Rest
I have a more stable walk now,
One foot in line with the other,
I feel like I can step now,
Perchance take a flight of stairs.
I'm walking a little higher now,
My foot more sure than before,
I know that I can step now,
Maybe dance on a cloud.
I'm walking toward a goal now,
A foot sometimes stumbles,
I live like I can step now,
Could swim in the stars.
I'm rembering when I couldn't walk,
My feet have felt the shame,
I feel like I will step now,
Possibly run on mountaintops.
I'm sure that I can stand now,
My foot will wait steadfast,
I know that I will step now,
Will stand at Glory's gate.
The walking is not so hard now,
My foot no longer sweats,
I'm moving in His steps now,
And I will rest, I will rest.
JP Quay, 1-8-04
---
He bled so much to set me free
He bled so much to set me free...
He died so hard to save my soul...
Feeling my pain, living my life, knowing my sin, He died on the cross.
Every hit on the nails, my hand was holdig the hammer.
Every time I sin I set one more strike...
All the time laughing, enjoying, forgetting him hanging.
His lungs full of blood- His breath once gave me life.
The blood gave me life again.
It's by his grace...
All by his grace...
I'm tired of forgetting. I'd rather I feel the pain.
Reprobate mind- forsaken, let go- He is not mine.
But still he says I am his.
The holy spirit kisses my forhead.
His arms surround me while I hold onto my sin.
I want to run and forget- I want.
Sometimes screaming, "LET GO!"
My heart cries, "HOLD ON!"
The battle agains wages on, wages on.
I know. Do I care?
He's there, he's here. Ever present. Ever watching.
Staring.
I hold out my hands and He holds out His. I slap them.
I sin.
I sin.
I sin again.
I am a sinner.
The chief of sinners.
I long to be free.
I long to feel his glory again as he says, "Well done."
"Well done my good and FAITHFUL servant."
Faithful.
Am I faithful.
Failing.
I am failing.
I used to feel his touch on my shoulder as I walked in the darkness.
I will search for him again.
I will search for him again.
He is here.
I will search for him again.
His love calls me. I will fall at his feet.
Bow down. I am defeated.
I will search for him again.
JP Quay, 12-27-03
---
Under His Wing
My heart is bleeding,
My tongue is parched,
I'm searching, yearning,
For what thou art...
I have read the words,
Their breath, somewhat dull,
Revive the Fire within,
And make me whole...
Let the scripture jump,
Let my life submit,
You are all I need,
Despite the sinning fit,
Let my will be changed,
And help me to conform,
To a person I am not,
but for which I was born.
Holy as you are holy,
My everything rearranged,
I feel your Spirit around me,
And his presence mildly strange,
Once I would have leaped,
A time when I'd had danced,
And I wish for this again,
For Jesus, my great romance.
The journey presses on,
The fight still mulls my bones,
I'm pressing toward the mark,
For one day I will be home,
I will live and die for Him,
He who is my king,
Son of God, Son of man,
I am under His wing.
JP Quay, 12-25-03
---
Refining Fire
Stand in Refining Fire once again
It is a small price to pay, Jesus' friend
Although it hurts, is valid and a reality
It's nothing compared to the pain of calvary
For our scabs are skin deep, resting on the heart
But by his grace we are set apart
He wears HIS scars within his wrists
Despite our sins' mounting lists,
He chose to free us, that we may be free
He is the God who died for me.
JP Quay, 11-11-03
---
I AM
I am gross.
I am dirty.
I am nothing.
A sinner.
Lord, I hurt you.
I hurt you.
I hurt you.
Pain and crushing defeat.
A heart lost on Self.
Following vain prusuits.
Unchanged.
Shallow.
Taking hold of what is not mine.
Sinning again, blaspheming a holy name.
"My people, called by my name."
Unworthy, I fall again before you.
My forehead to your feet.
I cry.
I want freedom, to seek you intensely.
I choose pain instead and die a little more.
How for can I sever these leperous parts?
How can I be cleansed?
I lack the vision, despite knowing the goal.
I feel lost, despite knowing I'm found.
Where is healing in the inner parts?
Why do I choose death when offered life?
I die a little more.
I don't know where I am...
and much worse, have forgotten where you are.
I lack the endurance.
I've given up on commitment.
I'm broken, wishing to be fixed.
I need you.
I'm seeking you.
Why do I choose death when offered life.
Again and again.
Sin becomes my hands.
I feel this cancer growing through my vains.
I have seen a taste of glory.
I have seen a bit of hell.
Why, when knowing the better I so often choose the worse?
I could be free, could let it go.
My hand grips harder.
My heart hardens more.
Laughter in my face.
Lonely.
Hearing pity, on knowing you.
I try the ways of a world that is not mine.
I'm disgusted, elated, and disgusted.
It feels good to sin; that is no lie.
It feels.
It kills.
Another part dies.
Another moment wasted.
Another day gone by.
Another hour I run back to what I always knew.
Fill the void with ashes of a life revoked.
Forgeting the fullness of a holy spirit.
I choose to hide behind a life-style I had forsaken.
Why am I sinning again.
Why is it so hard to give it up.
Why is it when you think it'll never touch you again, it comes back with a flaring vengeance to try and take you down again.
I've choosen Jesus.
I want to live Jesus.
What about that quiet hour,
When no one but The Forgiver can see you.
To fight my own cause.
To forget why I fight.
Freedom.
He is my God, I can't hear his voice.
He is my God, deaf by my own choice.
He is my God, why do I hide.
He is my God, I want change.
He is my God, I'm willing, but weak.
He is my God, He is strong when I fail.
He is God, He can hold me.
He is God, He has healed me.
He is God, He saved me.
He is God, He deserves my all.
He is God, I can't pick it back up.
He is- my only hope.
He is- my only chance.
He is- my only relief.
He is- able.
He is- Mine.
I am- His.
I am- He is.
He is I AM.
He says, "What you need,
what you are,
what you lack,
what you want,
where you hurt,
where you cry,
when you feel lost,
when you feel alone,
when no one understands,
when you need to hear someone say your name in a loving tone,
when you need more than you could ever make for yourself,
when you need to say 'no,'
when you need someone to help you stop,
when you need a father to hold you,
when you need a god to guide you,
when you need to spend eternity with the only one who will ever know everything about you- good and bad- and love you and accept you- no matter how many times you hammer those nails in his hands- and will say to you, "I want you" when you are not even want-able... it is then that God says... I AM.
JP Quay, 9-22-03
---
Notes On Flaun
Spaniards invented it.
It is from the dessert world (two s's).
Looks like a cheesecake with water on top.
It is not cheesecake!
One fork-full is like stabbing a pencil in your eye.
It is cold, slimy, quivering.
It offers resistance when you are gumming it.
It's like cold vomit... or poop.
Spaniards would gather flaun before a big celebration.
They would then eat the Flaun at the celebration.
2 YEARS AGO - Sayward went to a SALSA event.
At the Latino Latina celebration she saw Carlos.
Carlos says, "Chica!"
They dance... dun dun dun *snap* *snap* dun dun.
Carlos says, "Eat from our wide array of food."
Say says, "Aw-ight!"
She sees some cheesecake... "Sweet!"
She takes an enormous portion of the cheesecake.
Friend, Nicole, laughs maniacly.
She bites the cake...
"The texture that pervaded my mouth..."
She spits some out, accidently swallows some.
Wipes the remains off her tongue with a napkin.
Remembers forever.
Over the following year Sayward (and friends) held random Anti-Flaun Campaigns in the middle of undisclosed markets and stores. It was called, "Anti-Flaun 2002."
Be aware... and beware!
JP Quay, Sayward Mannino, and Nicole Williams; 5-16-03
---
Ode to Boy Meets World
Boy Meets World...
Oh how I miss thee.
Tapanga
and my friend, Cory.
They are the matthews,
and friends.
And I will remember them
'til the very end.
There's Shawn
and his roller skating mom,
A neighbor
who has taught too long.
An older brother,
the stupider he grew,
A little sister,
Who we hardly ever knew,
Shawn's new roomate,
his brother, woo-hoo,
But he was
Joey Lawrence's brother too,
So many characters,
the torrents of life,
and then Cory Matthews
made Tapanga his wife,
I've grown with and lived with
and knew them, it's true,
Oh Matthews family,
What will I do without you.
*pleasant sigh.
JP Quay, 2-3-04
---
Despite Apathy
I feel so tired today,
it feels like just another,
I have to have to stay.
Really don't feel like doing,
The time continuing, continuing.
Tired of the everyday.
Tired of the greatness too.
Just plain tired...
Don't really know what to do.
It's in these times my faith
it wearies and becomes hard,
But I have to live
I have to do as my heart
moves beyond the fleeting
emotional blah-ness.
Is blah-ness even a word?
Who cares?
The apathetic pain,
horrible to hardly care.
I know there is more than this.
I have felt more than this.
Stupidly I waste the pains
of glory's sake.
He is a God of passion,
extreme and not sedate.
If I would just allow myself
to stop this lack of "feel."
There's glory all around me-
within me-
Waiting to be revealed.
To open my eyes
And recognize who waits
...for me...
I will not be so blah
but embrace my eternity.
Praise, and greatness of love,
In this great affair with my God.
Allow him to fill, for I am thirsty,
In the stream of life,
I will be full.
I am full in Him.
Passionate romance,
My God and my King.
Alone, He's my all.
Feeling restored.
---
That's when I fall
I hate it when I feel so dead inside,
When I can't even bring myself to cry.
I need something to get it all out.
This thing inside me, this endless shout.
There aren't even words to express the way I feel.
Not happy, not sad, not angry, can't even feel.
It's when I reach those heighest heights,
That's when I fall.
That's when I fall.
I think I'm finally getting somewhere with my life,
And that's when I fall.
I hate it that I can't just change with a snap,
When I keep holding onto the same old crap,
I need something more than what I'm living right now,
I feel like I've fallen into the darkest hour,
There aren't even words to express the way I feel
Not embarrassed, not pensive, not bleak, can't even feel.
It's when I'm reaching for those heighest heights,
That's when I fall.
That's when I fall.
I think my life will finally be all right,
And that's when I fall.
I hate it that I don't know how to live,
When I refuse to let go, let nothing give,
I need something. just something is all,
I feel like I've nothing, hit the wall,
There aren't even words to express the way I feel
Not holy, not clean, not even real,can't even feel.
It's when I finally touch that heighest height,
That's when I fall.
That's when I fall.
It's when I think I have something right,
And that's when I fall.
I hate that I feel like I can't even do anything right,
When I won't even try, gripped in fright
There aren't even words to express the way I feel
Not anything, Not anyone, Am I even here, can't even feel.
It's when I thought I had some sort of sturdy step,
That's when I fall.
That's when I fall.
It's when I let go of the hand that holds me,
And that's when I fall again.
JP Quay, 3-17-04
---
In These Times
There have been times, times of tremendous joy.
There have been times, times of incredbile pain.
Release and capture, dysfunction and breath.
The day that seems to hold to the moment.
The moment that seems to be trapped in the day.
A cloud of fast, maybe slow- swirling around-
In the eyes of a tornado- calming in numbness.
Hope attaches, truth, it kills- life pounces and I feel dead.
There have been times, times of laughter.
There have been times, times of crying.
Days of peace in moments of confusion.
And a moment of disruption in the midst of the norm.
I will never be the same again- but little know what I'll be.
What even am I, and where from have I come.
Pervasive lies, yielding truths- what really is what it really is... I don't even know.
Tired of the pain- aching as ache dares not to feel.
So much and so little, is it all even real.
There have been moments, glimpses of joy.
And there have been moments, glimpses of pain.
Often, these moments, glimpses came at the same time.
Often, they were even the same emotion.
And they have taken hold of my everything
And there is nothing left of me
And I have but one hope that is wasting in the fog
And I fear I will no longer be able to see it.
Waning hope, and no strength to fight for it...
What will be my life after this moment?
It is too far ahead to see.
JP Quay, 4-13-04
---
Haunted
Haunted by faint reflections of your smile,
mirrored by the day, whispered in the night,
I know there is want, and strong desire,
It’s like a fire, It’s like a fire.
I wake again and wish that you were there,
memories of your touch, sparks of you,
And I know there is want, and strong desire,
It’s like a fire, It’s like a fire.
And I’m shaken, all of me is stirred,
And the inside shouts for more and more,
I know there is want, and strong desire,
It’s like a fire, It’s like a fire.
And this burning inside, my bones nearly break,
And I can find no more reason to live so fake,
For my heart is crying and yearning for this,
And I still feel the gliding of your gentle lips,
There’s a wind at my back, pressing on shoulders,
A thick heaviness upon me, these crashing boulders.
And yes there is want, and yes there is strong desire,
but that was never enough before, why now is there fire,
And with deepest regrets on giving up my life,
I run to you now with passions ever new,
There is something here that I never felt before,
Something I dare not want to ever live again without.
But where are you now, now that I have realized,
Where is your smile, your touch, the pleasant sighs,
I know now what I want, but does it want me back?
All I can feel is this intense sense of lack…
For a chance of love I gave you my all,
Where are you now, as I begin to fall…
And I know there is want, and strong desire,
It’s like a fire, It’s like a fire.
And I know that I want what I never wanted before,
I’m on my face, crying on the floor,
For I know there is want, and strong desire,
But what is this fire, what is this fire?
JP Quay, 7-7-04
---
It was May 1st...
It was May 1st... and suddenly.
And I'm not sure what to do,
Or how to feel... even what to think.
Your taste still in my mouth-
The blue bedsheets all upturned...
A Citrus drink left on the stove-
The touches still vibrating in my fingers-
My hair messed up...
I thought I would never do what I have done,
And the scariest part is:
I think, now, I would do it again.
What will my life be tomorrow?
And will I like it?
Tomorrow is so far away-
With random messages texted on a cel,
Remembering words and breaths so well,
You looks over up to me and says,
"Your heart is pounding."
and my heart is pounding.
Unexpectedly...
My heart is pounding.
---
When I Have to Say Good-bye
When I don't want to say good-bye, but have to...
I close my eyes and simply say the words.
I wave.
My tears trembling in the ducts, afraid they will be seen.
And I clench my teeth, speak through stone-
These are my worst times.
This is when I have no balance.
The times when I say good-bye, but I am not the one leaving.
This is when I fall.
They have all run away...
They have forgotten the glint on my breath, the dew on my words.
It has been wiped away in the scorching heat,
in the absence of the stars.
There is a corner to which my heart spills to,
A drain it is forever pouring down.
And lying on the sewer pipe ground, it lets out a heavy moan.
Perhaps I should die today,
it is one journey I have yet to take...
Not by choice, this is obvious, but by heart- for it is beating for more.
Longing for what this finite can not offer.
And yet I shove things in the crevices of holy corridors.
A pinata in the holy of holies.
Trying to decorate the Ark of the Covennant?
Why do I ignore the mercy seat in an attempt to remodel a relic?
Why do I put glitter on the cross where Jesus died?
Who would paint the fingernails and ignore the holes in the hands...
That is why this generation suffers...
My people.
Always looking for a better package, and forgetting the heart inside.
We want what appeals, and forget what is real.
Pain or joy, peace or death, it doesn't matter- what is truth is truth
... and I must submit.
When I have to say good-bye, but don't want to.
When the tears crawl back into my brain,
and when my heart is held tightly by my ribs,
all collapsing in...
I wave.
and choose to live past those moments.
This is sorrow wrapped in joy---
JP Quay, 6-9-04
---
On Moving
Me: Throw that away.
Them: No, what if I ever want another one.
Me: You won't EVER want another one.
Them: What if it comes back in style.
Me: I wouldn't worry about THAT coming back in style.
Them: I could lose weight, it could fit later on.
Me: If you lose that much weight you'll be dead.
Them: This could be worth money.
Me: Yes, I'm SURE someone wants to buy one... but maybe they'd want one that isn't cracked, oozing, and smells like a mix of cottage cheese, skunk weed, and death.
Them: It's an heirloom.
Me: It's a piece of junk.
Them: Junk that belonged to your great great grandparents.
Me: Well, give it back to them.
Them: They're dead.
Me: Let's bury the heirloom too.
Them: It's pretty.
Me: Yeah, my BLIND friend would think it's lovely.
Them: You could incorporate it in art.
Me: You offend asthetics.
Them: *sigh
Me: *sigh
Me: Throw it away
Them: But...
JP Quay, 6-28-04
---
The Sinner Song (sans the clapping and back-up)
I'm a sinner,
I am dirty,
Look at my grossness,
I am crusty.
I'm a sinner,
I've got a bad scent,
Like rotting tuna,
I'm not decent.
But it's okay,
'Cause I am saved
And grace covers...
It covers me.
I'm a sinner,
I'm so snotty,
Look at my heart,
It's a potty.
But Jesus flushes
All my sin down,
Then it sparkles
And I can't frown.
But it's okay,
'Cause I am saved
And grace covers...
It covers me.
'Cause I'm a sinner,
Just like a big zit,
But praise Jesus,
Grace covers... it.
JP Quay & Nicole Williams, Fall '02
---
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! I feel like a freaking psycho.
What the ! is wrong with me?
Huh? What do you think?
I don't ! know. That's for sure.
Stupid mistakes
Compulsions over-running
I'm like a freaking addict, dude.
What the ! is wrong with me?
Gosh- I'm beserk.
Stupid, stupid mistakes.
I just got carried away.
Stupid mistake.
I just got caught up in the moment...
obssessive.
Indulgent
I'm bored.
Was bored.
It made me not bored.
ACK! What the ! is wrong wiht me?
Stupid mistake!
I was saying, "so long."
But wasn't that strong
Apparently
Appears to be.
I need to walk away.
It was never meant to be.
Not even.
Not even another word.
Those ! words catch me.
Mood catches me.
Not another day.
Not another moment.
Have to stop trying to make it be.
Can't give it away.
Need to stop and pray.
Ack! Egh! Ahhhhhh!
For all that I foolishly wasted on wanting what would never be,
I now need resolution to prosper in me.
And of all the days I kept myself blind, on purpose,
It's time for me to stop, look, rewind and walk.
I will be different, and I won't be.
But I face it alone with God, and not with any others.
I say good-bye and walk away... Leave all of this for another day.
A day when I'm stronger, a day when I can be.
JP Quay, 9-14-04
---
A shizotypal's tendencies for bird watching
I have a singing birdy, his name is Fred,
But I found my little birdy really, really dead.
He wasn't even warm and didn't have a head,
My very tiny birdy was decapitat-ed.
Oh little birdy, where have you gone?
Oh little birdy, I feel kind of alone.
You used to sing the songs that woke me up in the morn'
But now your precious body is completely torn...
in two...
and I can't find your head.
I had a singing birdy, his name was Fred.
but now I have Fred's body, sans the head.
He doesn't sing or fly, my poor, little Fred.
Sadly, riggamortis made him stiff as lead.
Oh little birdy, where are you now?
Oh little birdy, you're dead? oh wow!
You used to flap around and make me think that I could fly,
But I never thought I'd have to see you die...
at least your dead body...
'cause I still can't find your head.
I had a singing birdy, his name was Fred.
Now a backyard grave is his eternal bed.
The ground hides his beautiful feathers red.
It'll also hide the stink when he's rott-ed.
Oh little birdy, you have truly passed away.
Oh little birdy, I have no words to say.
I think that I will miss you, my little birdy inspirtation...
But everyone has a date set for expiration...
and you hit yours...
and maybe I'll one day find your head.
...Where is Fred's head...
...I don't know...
...Maybe it's hidden...
...Out in the snow...
...But I will keep on searching...
... and may one day know...
...Where Fred's head is...
...Where Fred's head is...
...Where my little, tiny, red-feathered, singing, flapping, little, flying, happy, sappy, friendly, little, exuberant, fellacious, celebratory, wild, incredible, little birdy, FRED'S HEAD IS!...
JP Quay, 7-14-04
---
Intermission
And you thought that it would last
as the pages turned so fast
And you thought is was
More than life had offered before
And the changes, impacts, and rest
life in technicolour
But there comes a day
when graveyards really do exist
and you only visit to remember
And so I'll close my eyes
And pretend you've gone away
because standing here again
hurts more each and every day
And maybe a spring will come
when the leaves grow green once more
but for now I have to leave, before
before it begins to rot
before death begins to smell
before I can't stand any longer
to remember so well
So for fonder memories sake
I'll stop us where we are
And hope for intermission
that something more will endure.
JP Quay, 4-5-06
---
A year and still
Why am I still so affected (defected) by you?
Memories are still killing me.
And I want to forget anything (everything) ever happened.
Was it all a bad dream?
I still don't know why- I don't think I ever will.
Of all the things in life-
you are the only thing I regret.
And I'm regretting so hard.
The illusion surrounded (engulfed) me,
And I, for just a brief moment, I thought I had everything
only to realize I had nothing at all.
And it's made me afraid
Of this entire world
And the healing that love has brought me
I've still not read the last chapter of that book
A year, and my heart is still too raw.
JP Quay, 1-24-06
---
With every loved word
There's still a lump of bitterness I hardly knew was there
till speaking to an awaiting mind with an influential blank stare.
And these are truths that were my life
that stripped me and left me bare
to a world of people with a world of hate
and no ones seems to care
about the other guy, or that one, or who him from over there.
Conference this weekend, everyone get ready
Got to keep your life straight, keep it all steady
when really you just keep dancing the same old dance
partnered up against the others you never gave a chance
And really I have no desire to be a part of who you are
because I was there and did that, and it just left a scar
this is who they call the people of love and peace
Screw that shit, propaganda meant to tease
confuse and draw and bring them in to the mass of heaving meat
unconcious and waltzing to the same old sounds of what was once a beautiful beat
So, yeah I still believe
and yeah I still wish it were true
but I hate the fact that with every loved word I have to remember you.
JP Quay, 11-3-05
---
There are some things I miss as I tried to write it down-
and remembering, and realizing made me twistedly frown
who are you that stole so much of me
and what is this that takes and takes so freely
I deleted, ripped, and burned all the memories
and hope to starve the writhing remainders yet left eternally
JP Quay, 6-25-05
---
Life intentionally
What a paradox-
This rhythm beating through my brain.
How can one feel so undesirable
when many are showing interest?
How can one feel alone,
when he's the one with all the friends.
I miss intimacy in conversation, late at night,
where I found myself without looking.
So I resort to moments alone,
I tell myself my own pain-
and I'm the only one that hears.
Feeling warmth of so many tears.
Over what I lost, over what I gained,
and over everything in the moment- now passed.
If I run, it wouldn't be fast enough.
If I go, it wouldn't be far enough.
Everywhere I go, there is a mirror
And I'm confronted with the me
that everyone knows
and nobody knows.
So, maybe I'll write a book,
maybe I'll jot some notes,
maybe I'll takes some pictures,
be numb and just float.
When God is the only thing worthwhile
Then what's worth the while of waiting
For I just want heaven now,
not confusion with all this anticipating.
Want me or leave me.
Fight for me or forget me.
Be there always or not at all.
Love me or hate me.
I don't want a life of if-y remarks
in the dark
without the spark
of anything.
I want life intentionally.
JP Quay, 5-27-05
---
If that isn't vague enough
...confused, I decided to come-
just to talk.
flat tire- but still I pressed my way- seeking some kind of resolution.
But there was no resolution- only more confusion.
"You can come sit here on the bed, it's more comfortable than that chair."
"No, I think I'm fine right here...
...This is awkward. You are awfully silent."
"You are awfully silent too."
"What sparked your IMing?"
"I don't know, what sparked your response..."
"... something about Nick and Ramon visiting."
More silence.
What are you thinking...
thoughts.
"Can I at least get a hug?"
"Egh. I don't think that'd be wise."
"Then I will hug you."
-random tears- convulsing behind my eyes, I try to hide.
"I think I should go-"
"No, don't go."
"Come sit here on the bed."
and I did- a mistake brewing...
"Are you mad at me?"
"no"
"Do you actually like me?"
"Do you think I'd be spending this time with you if I didn't?"
"Well, I don't know what to think- I don't understand any of... us."
"Neither do I- I'm just kind of sporadic about things."
"I am too- except when it comes to relationships..."
. . .
"What is it you think about me?..."
"Cute, hot, nice, a good person, kind... if that isn't vague enough... (laughs awkwardly)"
"It's just- I can't be sure you'll even talk to me- tomorrow- or ever for that matter....
...Will you talk to me tomorrow?"
"Yes."
And then the floodgates opened and I forgot...
I just want to feel connected in some way
-I suppose-
..but then it was all over...
. . .
"You know I don't want a relationship, right?"
"I know"
"...But you want one."
"...It's fine."
. . .
"I guess that's the way the cookie crumbles. When will you get back tonight?"
"Probably before 12"
"I'll talk to you tonight."
. . .
he never did.
maybe he never will.
And I will never be sure if I'm supposed to wait or move on..."
and I suppose that IS the way the cookie crumbles...
---
I traded some things
I traded...
I traded some things.
I traded some glory.
I traded some of the cloud.
I traded some joy and peace.
I traded it for nothing.
A lie was breathed when my heart thought maybe.
A lie was breathed when I questioned God's omnipotence.
Maybe I don't have to care so much about His will for my life.
Maybe I don't have to worry so much about my effect on others.
Maybe I don't have to think so much about what is right, and what is wrong.
He'll know that I still love Him, God knows that.
He'll know my heart when my actions don't line up.
A lie was breathed when I thought a feeling was enough.
A lie was breathed when I felt like I could abuse my celestial relationship.
Maybe I don't have to feel everything so deeply, I want numbness.
Maybe I don't have to cry, lying on my face so many nights.
Maybe I don't have to continue to hurt, knowing of and not always feeling His presence and holy love.
He'll know I always wanted Him, even when I put Him on my cross.
He'll know I fought once, even if I feel like I can't fight any more.
And a lie was breathed.
"I can do it on my own," said me to myself, while resting in my pit of anguish.
"I can do it alone," said me to myself, while convincing myself of my own moralistic self pity.
"I can walk without You," said me to myself and I fell to the ground, and with the greatest strength ever exerted gave my all in an attempt to move forward, but fell backward again- and ignored it the feigned security in my proud deception- ignorance overwrought.
There's a miseltoe above my head, and there's no one to kiss.
There's a miseltoe over head, eat it and I'm dead.
There's a miseltoe just hanging way up there- God mocking... my perception confused.
There's a miseltoe aloft, it whispers, "You should be, you should be."
I hear the words "No" and "Yes" in a confused shizophrenic seizure.
I hear the words "Yes" and "No" and I'm confused.
I don't know what You want!
What do You fucking want?!
I scream out in the twilight and dawning hours.
Exasperated and tired of asking, will You only show Your face.
Speak silent words.
I don't know what You want!
What do I do?
I scream out in a desperate rage.
Exasperated and tired of asking, will You finally show Your face.
Speak the words to my heart that will end it.
Speak the words to my heart, Lord, and I know I can make it.
Vision and sight- may it last the longest night.
That I would see only Your face and know it is enough.
Vision and right- may it last the entire fight.
That I could see only Your face, and know it is enough.
That I see You, and You are enough.
How...
I foolishly traded so much of my life, so many times.
I foolishly traded moments I could have spent with You.
I foolishly traded times I could have spent lying at your feet.
I foolishly traded being completely overwhelmed and consumed with Your love for me.
I foolishly traded peace and joy for false senses of security in broken promises of a world that really could offer me nothing.
I foolishly gave up time you preciously gave.
But I see, You are enough.
I may run again.
I may foolishly forget.
The next moment, say, "I hate you." and run.
I may- again and again.
But remind me, You are enough.
Remind me, You are enough.
You are more than enough for me.
JP Quay, 11-2-04
---
Room enough for...
I'm lonely. I miss the feeling of the complexity of hopes deferred and renewed. The feeling of, even for brief seconds, moments... not wanting and feeling complete. But you were never meant to complete me-
I miss the touch. I miss the voice. I miss the almost too sweet smell of your breath combating the waxing scent of your scattered hair as I kissed you between your lips and into my soul- a memory I stole from myself it's proper place. Soft snores, and eyes closing- remembering the most pleasant of hell's threats and heaven's realizings.
There was a moment, be it however brief, that I thought it all made sense- that you made sense- that you and I made sense... but it was an illusion I molded into my sand castle of a heart. It crumbled with the breaking winds of the unconditional relief that tormented my second thoughts every morning after.
I know it's not meant to be. Reality striking hard against me... I hoped on a dandelion seed as it flitted about in the air, directionless and without care. I tried to grab it, but only caught a shadow. And despite wishes that the watermarked vision in my palms would solidify, I drowned in my insecurities.
I let you go, in the same way that you never took hold of me. I forget what I will always remember and I wait- alone- for eternity to bite my scared shaking heart. The Father's hands, his holy embrace, it gives me peace.
Maybe I never will have anyone. Maybe, for me, there is no "the one."
And I'm okay with that.
Sometimes when we are most lonely, it is then that we realize the most that a person could never fill some voids... those spaces that are only meant for what we, what I, might never understand.
You only ever truly love one person, and no counterfeit version of romance can ever truly satisfy the desire to be filled in that empty space...
But a dove can nest there- maybe no one else ever will- But the dove can nest there.
JP Quay, 10-17-04
---
We choose
we choose our own sorrow.
Who are you?
Esoterics, I'm not in THAT mood.
... not again.
I want to be annoying, and make you hate me-
I'm tired of people who just want another friend.
Someone else to throw their deep pits into.
we choose the lives we lead.
Forever sounds nice.
I don't want to think about TOMORROW.
...not again.
I want to be free, and so incredibly reckless-
I'm tired of measuring out each moment.
Trying not to make another stupid mistake.
We embrace our own sins.
I miss talking to you.
I don't want to have to PLAY catch-up.
...not again.
I want to live each day with people who are.
With people who won't continue to fade.
We are only alone because we choose to be.
I'm sorry again.
It seems to be something I SAY a lot lately.
...not again.
I hate making the misteps that lead to confusion.
Seeing what was a maybe pass into a never near daily.
We close our own eyes.
Will you light my candle?
I can't light ANYMORE candles.
...not again.
I can't care anymore about so many people.
Only for people to so easily forget- I loved them.
...Will you ever really know me?
there are too many me's
and lately they are getting meaner
or more crafty
as I'm fighting
to find who will fight
for something real
and not the reflections of me.
JP Quay, 11-27-05
---
A starving girl can eat a pumkin, but not a horse-drawn carriage... Fairy godmother my ass.
And the glass slippers finally spoke,
"Did you see right through me?"
And Cinderella finally choked
Stroking midnight set her free
waltz on by on broken glass
dreams carried her this far.
hell, who needs a castle
Let's wish on a star.
And if you grow blind
from a fairy godmother glow
Atleast you took the time
to really... I mean really... know.
JP Quay, 4-8-06
---
ring ring
For someone so hung up on traditional family values
you sure don't measure up
And you seem to be everything in a man
that I never want to be
Learn to love your wife a little more.
And love yourself a little less
because, as far as I'm concerned,
You're a fucking mess.
The alarm clock is ringing
and it's time to grow up
JP Quay, 3-12-06
---
Clarity
Still searching for the former clarity
Raping existence to fine true life
And you think I'm something more
Really, I'm nothing... nothing of importance
We're all puppets... puppets with scissors
Enough apathy not to cut
Enough wisdom not to want to fall
But someime, you'll have to leap
And find out who you really are
To hell with what they'll all think
We're too limited by our finite lives
To not desire to fly
So spread angel wings
and open you soul to the sky
Because it will all be worth it
If you find out... find out before
you die.
JP Quay, 1-9-06
---
"(Touch) me... no. not there - - - in my heart."
(Touch) me... no. not there - - - in {my} heart.
I've waited for nothing as nothing was what I thought
I deserved in the end.
Quiet [desperation], giving up,
just a eunuch,
just a friend.
And that all changed when my (eyes) were t o u c h e d,
with something that DIDN'T qUiTe measure up.
And I thought all was lost again
until I found my new best friend.
And silent conversations (while) in each others' eyes
And finally see my soul breaking through the lies.
I want to HOLD your hand as we walk down
because [your touching {my} heart]
your touching my heart -where it couldn't be found-
[your touching {my} heart]
and it's O--P--E--N again.
JP Quay, 12-6-05
---
Does it hurt still? What are you doing?
...what? umm... running. I think.
What are you doing?
I'm running.
Where are you going?
I don't know... I guess I'll know when I get there... right now, I'm just running.
Does it hurt?
What? ...no
Doest it hurt still?
yes.
Why are you running?
I don't know. I'm just running.
How will you know when you get where you're going?
I don't have to know... I don't have to get there... yes.
Did you find love on the way?
I don't know.
Did you find love on the way?
no... yes.
Did you find love on the way?
I thought I did once... but it was a mistake.
Does it hurt?
What? ...no.
Does it hurt?
yes.
What are you running from?
I saw my reflection in the mirror.
Who was there?
I'm afraid I'll hurt him.
Why?
I'm a fuck up, really. Providence, grace- it's how I made it this far.
But he'll run with you?
He can't fix it... no matter how I feel about him.
Does it hurt?
What? ...no.
Does it still hurt?
yes.
I think you can make it?
I don't even know where I'm going.. leave me alone.
I think you're worthwhile?
Shut the fuck up.
So it hurts?
What? ...no.
So it still hurts?
leave me alone.
What are you doing?
Falling.
Why?
Running. I meant running... I don't know.
Was it always happy?
joy isn't a feeling.
Did you cry a lot?
pain is necessary.
Aren't your feet tired?
What? ...no.
So, your feet are tired?
yes.
Then stop running.
no.
Does it hurt?
maybe.
Does it hurt still?
I saw my reflection and scared myself.
JP Quay, 11-13-05
---
Does it hurt still?
What are you doing?
...what? umm... running. I think.
What are you doing?
I'm running.
Where are you going?
I don't know... I guess I'll know when I get there... right now, I'm just running.
Does it hurt?
What? ...no
Doest it hurt still?
yes.
Why are you running?
I don't know. I'm just running.
How will you know when you get where you're going?
I don't have to know... I don't have to get there... yes.
Did you find love on the way?
I don't know.
Did you find love on the way?
no... yes.
Did you find love on the way?
I thought I did once... but it was a mistake.
Does it hurt?
What? ...no.
Does it hurt?
yes.
What are you running from?
I saw my reflection in the mirror.
Who was there?
I'm afraid I'll hurt him.
Why?
I'm a fuck up, really. Providence, grace- it's how I made it this far.
But he'll run with you?
He can't fix it... no matter how I feel about him.
Does it hurt?
What? ...no.
Does it still hurt?
yes.
I think you can make it?
I don't even know where I'm going.. leave me alone.
I think you're worthwhile?
Shut the fuck up.
So it hurts?
What? ...no.
So it still hurts?
leave me alone.
What are you doing?
Falling.
Why?
Running. I meant running... I don't know.
Was it always happy?
joy isn't a feeling.
Did you cry a lot?
pain is necessary.
Aren't your feet tired?
What? ...no.
So, your feet are tired?
yes.
Then stop running.
no.
Does it hurt?
maybe.
Does it hurt still?
I saw my reflection and scared myself.
JP Quay, 11-13-05
