by misoh
found
20 22
i have wished and prayed for you
to consume me
bring me in
to your fluorescent need
pulling me into the flickering
quietly ticking bulbs
there, entranced, eyes glazed over
ascending invisible climb till final zap
i don’t know where to start so i guess i’ll just begin
in the small concentric societies we find ourselves in, each subway ride or stroll down the street or stumble into a union without running into a former is never a coincidence, but a draw of fate.
i guess i fell into the wrong hands
i hope to see you again i hope to never see you again i hope to
ride till the hill breaks
talking lots saying nothing
blah blah blah facts
obscure truth
desperate for distraction
the physicality of sound
the movement of attention
the spectrum of quarters
the domino effect of everyone needing everything all the time
with so much in flux, it’s been most interesting to discover what’s remained the same. the friends who stuck around, my local bodega man, carlos, who greeted me with toasty sandwiches and free snacks in my old neighborhood for 6 years before the hit, coffee shops i read and wrote in for hours on end, and most of all, .
i want to dismantle the “self care” mantra that has spiraled out of style and poisoned our soil. i want to bring love back into the mix. not the easy kind, the “it’s my last but, here, take mine” kind. the “i don’t know when, but i remember you at your best and trust she will return” kind of love. loyal love. selfless love. the kind that buckles your knees when you recall the warmth of a friend you didn’t deserve during your coldest season.
the opposite of mutual humility, of course, is not love. set your bar high, and beware of steel-shinned jumpers.
humility apology redemption
ego death eternal
i want to ride time the way slow-cooking meats and fermenting radishes do. urging patience with the promise of reward. i want to balance living in the Now while setting the table for tomorrow, adorned with crystal and bluesy flowers. because the sun will set and rise again, and again.
i miss the fun, i miss it all.
play time will come again.
love is
grief is
wisdom is
choice is
walk slowly, and now
visible only to those who know where to look
standing next to her watching
to see how it’s done
hollywood_the black skirts
worldstar money (interlude)
music was my refuge. i could crawl into the space between the notes and curl back to loneliness.
Most people don't grow up. Most people age. They find parking spaces, honor their credit cards, get married, have children, and call that maturity. What that is, is aging.
facts can obscure the truth
when someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time
i can be changed by what happens to me, but i refuse to be reduced by it
nothing more dangerous than playing the part ever a wager house always wins but i still bet my he art
Use language to access the un-sayable.
He looks like a cockatoo.
Did you just hiccup? So cute.
I was saving your place ‘cause you’re always worth it But you’re always working Just by yourself everyday. (Eating Ass 2020)
Hi, sweet boy.
There’s no one meaner than you. You knew.
Bear witness to what’s around you.
Fuckin’ wackin’ that ball around… it’s fantastic.
Just don’t even try to go to Juice Press if you’re not a member.
Passing the barista a note like I’m robbing a bank.
I did watch Casablanca recently, all the actors are dead.
I thought it’d be too high-brow but it was actually pretty fun.
Haha. She’s so fucked.
I’m trying to be a slut this summer.
A hidden page titled, The Secret Meaning of Life.
I read before bed because it’s aesthetic.
Reading comprehension: zero, Aesthetic: one-hundred.
Hold it, please, I only have three minutes.
What to do, when I sweat?
It helps me dream.
Is there man from future?
My phone decides what to do without a soul.
Look, it all worked out.
I play your records all the time.
you were so beautiful before today
there is no story anybody has ever heard that somebody else hasn’t experienced
the party that never happened
dance in the ballroom of my mind
i loved your point of view cuz u held no punches
song cry_jay z
by your side_sade
kiss of life_sade
we are afraid of losing what we have but this fear evaporates when we understand that our life stories and the history of the world were written by the same hand
the charms that work on others count for nothing in that devastatingly well-lit back alley where one keeps with oneself: no winning smiles will do here, no prettily drawn lists of good intentions
some dance to remember, some dance to forget
20 2 1
i’ve come to find, i don’t like big talkers and i hope
to never behave like one
moving pictures, interlaced fingers, altering tunes, wet lips
hand in hand conjoined where do i end and you begin?
irrevocable acts do not exist in the room of love
life is one long thread, no matter the length
forgiveness is the compassion we gift and wish to encounter when we inevitably fall short
i can find my way with no superpowers i can take my place without becoming sour i might not make all the psychopaths proud at least i can see the faces of the smaller crowds
i’ve been sobered by my time on the shelf
a modern war in which everyone loses
the only true currency in this bankrupt world is what you share with someone else when you’re uncool
you’ll meet them all again on the long journey to the middle
the secret to surviving is as simple as eating dinner
the present slips into the past and the slippage never dies
the revolution reeked of salted butter
fuck nostalgia savor utopia
happiness at the cost of depth
melancholy with the price of union
the link between lying and the desire to not get into it
remind me to live for now, no more and no less
a cry for youth at worst a valiant boycott against All Things Cool at best
there once was a time when all i wanted was .
unsaid, then forgotten
look at this, an entire generation of cinderellas with no glass slipper
+
remind me to forget
20 20
write drukn edit sobre
그렇게 쿨해서 그래서 넌 좋겠다
old money new lover sweet honey white lies
it is what you don’t write that frequently gives what you do write its power.
the poets, by which i mean all artists, are finally the only people who know the truth about us. something awful is happening to a civilization when it ceases to produce poets and, what is even more crucial, when it ceases in any way to believe in the report that only poets can make. most people live in almost total darkness. people, millions of people whom you will never see, who don’t know you, never will know you, people who may try to kill you in the morning, live in a darkness which – if you have that funny terrible thing that every artist can recognize and no artist can define – you are responsible to those people to lighten that darkness. this force which you didn’t ask for, and this destiny which you must accept, is also your responsibility. and if you survive it, if you don’t cheat, if you don’t lie, it is not only your glory, your achievement, it is almost our only hope.
all we ever do is see how far it bends before it breaks in half and then we bend it back again guess i got caught in the middle of it
i drink too much coffee and i think of you often in a city where reality has long been forgotten
oh no she didn't oh yes I did oh no she didn't i'll do it again
oh oh oh , i
i cry 'cause i remember you and then i cry when I forget about you i smile 'cause I remember you and then i smile again to pull myself through
calling for you is your daughter i look for you around every corner
friendship is the booze they feed you because they want you to get drunk on feeling like you belong
what is crucial here is that if it hurt you, that is not what’s important. everybody’s hurt. what is important, what corrals you, what bullwhips you, what drives you, torments you, is that you must find some way of using this to connect you with everyone else alive. this is all you have to do with it. you must understand that your pain is trivial except insofar as you can use it to connect with other people’s pain; and insofar as you can do that with your pain, you can be released from it, and then hopefully it works the other way around too; insofar as i can tell you what it is to suffer, perhaps i can help you to suffer less. then, you make — oh, fifteen years later, several thousand drinks later, two or three divorces, god knows how many broken friendships and an exile of one kind or another — some kind of breakthrough, which is your first articulation of who you are: that is to say, your first articulation of who you suspect we all are.
TELL YOUR FRIENDS THERE’S SOMETHING IN THE WATER
then i bump into you and my cheeks get all rouged and i struggle to move you know i’m struggling too and i feel like a fool as i stumble on past i see us all in the glass and i guess that i’m glad that you’re both in my past but that thought doesn’t last and i cry crystallized tears and i wanna be blind so i stare up to the sky and flood myself in the light as the sun sets i really wanna run into it
I CAN’T BELIEVE IT THIS IS THE ELEVENTH HOUR
PSYCHEDELIC LIFE IS SUCH A FUNNY JOURNEY
THEN I THINK TO MYSELF WHAT A WONDERFUL WORLD WHAT A HELL OF A DAY WHAT A BEAUTIFUL GIRL
THANKS FOR THE HOURS THANKS FOR THE DAYS
I KNOW IT’LL BREAK EITHER WAY SO I’LL PUT MY HEAD DOWN AND I’LL SWAY
MARTYR IN A CHEAP DRESS
LET IT ALL OUT WITH THE RADIO LOUD
SUPERNOVA NEVER LET IT COME DOWN
STOMP MY HANDS WHEN I CLAP MY FEET
I WANNA DANCE WITH THE DISCO(W )MAN
this is how you lose her
when i was older i was a sinner
it took a lot of love for me to hate you the way i do
tell me which one is worse: living or dying first
she thought it was the ocean but it was just a pool
talking loud saying nothing
close the lights, dim the drapes
afraid to die alone afraid to die free
sister don’t mind that i’m not on time she knows that i’m through with that distance is fine i know you can’t care nothing is big like that
it was all part of the story
barthe's argument flirts heavy
SO GOOD IT’S SICK
part of the torment
is that you can always
take part
SIGHTS OF PUBLIC GAIN AT THE SITE OF PRIVATE LOSS
give it space rather than cut it short
give it space then cut it short
THE POINT IS TO HAVE FUN
SOUNDS SWEET HITS BITTER
SWEET SOUNDS HIT BITTER
the end of you sat on the cusp of me
time showed no mercy and it left her behind weren’t you listening?
don’t you ? no, actually, i don’t.
SILVER TONGUE LUNGS BLACK LIPS PRETTY
FILL IT UP WITH STEAM HEAVEN ISN’T EVERYTHING
I LIKE IT BECAUSE YOU DON’T HAVE IT
I HEAR IT BECAUSE YOU CAN’T SMELL IT
I MAKE IT BECAUSE YOU DON’T FEEL IT
IT’S TIME TO LISTEN TO THE SMALL DOG GROW AND THE BIG BOY SHRINK
IN BLINDING LIGHT IN NEON DARKNESS TELL ME WHAT DO YOU SEE
I TOLD YOU THE DRIP WAS COLD
WE NEVER DID THIS SHOULD’VE NEVER DONE THIS
I WAS YOUNG I NEEDED APPROVAL
TO GROW OLD I NEEDED TIME
THIS TIME I CAN’T FIND YOU IN YOUR PRESENCE
I SAW YOU COULD NOT BELIEVE WHAT I SAW
I’D LIKE TO THANK YOU THANK YOU
YOUR CORE WASHED ME CLEAN THANK YOU
I DON’T LIKE IT PLATED GIVE IT TO ME SOLID
I COULDN’T SAY IT TO MY FACE SO I SCREAMED IT ONTO YOURS
THERE IS MUCH TO SAY SO I’LL SAY NOTHING AT ALL
I’M SORRY SO VERY SORRY
MESSAGES MIXED WORDS FRIED PHOTOS TOSSED DAYS SCRAMBLED
WAS IT WET OR WAS IT REAL
WAS IT SOFT OR DID IT ACHE
WAS IT ONCE OR LAST-ING
FREEDOM IN YOUR PRISON IS SOMETHING I NEVER HAD
I NEED SLEEP BEFORE WE REST
BLISTERS ON MY TOES WE WERE SO ALIVE
I NEED YOU TO BELIEVE ME I SAW A HAND IN MY EYE AND YOUR PINKY IN HER FOOT
THEN I BEGAN TO WONDER WHY CAN’T I FEEL IT WITH ANOTHER
THAT WAS OUR PLACE THOSE WERE THE DAYS
THE PROBLEM WAS I THOUGHT OF YOU MUCH AND OF IT LESS
IN YOU I LOST MY INDEPENDENCE AND IN DEPENDENCE I LOST YOU
BROUGHT IT BACK IT’S NOT THE SAME
I NEED TO FIND IT BEFORE I LOSE IT
NUMB TO THE STATE YOU ARE CHANGED
THE REVOLUTION IS MADE UP OF THREE MILLION LOOSE HAIRS FIVE HARDENED BOOGERS AND ONE DROP OF BLOOD TOO THICK
FLY AND FALL FALL AND FLY
TELL ME DO YOU WANT TO STOP BEFORE WE GET UP TO THE TOP
I FOUND THE WAY TAKE MY HAND
I FEEL MYSELF BECOMING LIKE MY OTHER I USED TO BE A LOVER NOT A FIGHTER
YOU LEAD ME AND I GO YOU’RE BETTER THAN YOU
YOU’RE BETTER THAN YOU
YOU’RE BETTER THAN YOU!
SOMEWHERE IN MY DREAMS IT WAS EVERYTHING
THEN I WOKE UP AND THE SEX LINGERED TILL TEN SIX FOUR POOF GONE
IT STARTED WITH HIM AND ENDED WITH YOU AND BEGAN WITH ME
HERE NOW THE SUN BEATS AND REEKS SWEET
AFTER THE DUST SETTLED ALAS DUSK SET
ON THE THIRD DAY THE SUN ROSE AND I PLUCKED THORNS
I SUCKED IT IN AND I SNIFFED IT UP
IT IS THE END AND IT IS OKAY
20 19
blithely unaware
you’re never gonna change me i was already changing
there’s something in everything about you
i wanna see if you can go a long time with A Girl Like Me
i had a dream i could buy my way to heaven
when i awoke i spent that on a necklace
if i could do things over
i’d propose a trade of some sort
to close the time between history and tomorrow
to split the stage between diffidence and delight
the dreams forever dreamt
the shy whose knees buckle under gaze
the kids who grow up
the grown short on time
the she of night
everyday before you came home i stood alone in our empty garage in my flip-flops holding my flip-phone recorder and my cd pamphlet of the week. pamphlets, remember? the ugly booklet that at first glance looks like mere terrible graphic design under cheap, scratched plastic until you open it to find that it’s much, much more: a treasure trove of kaleidoscopic lyrics. CDs, what a time. i sang there because the sounds bounced off the cube walls just right. my beloved dungeon on blue jay lane. the concrete, white tiles, smudged glass, the warped drywall… i loved them all. my inanimate comrades of buoyant secrecy. i sang in showers, i sang into sinks, i sang into corners, i sang to flip-phones, iphones, i sang in booths, i sang to me, and i sang for you.
i started dreaming when i met you
now i sleep in blue
lips red, night skies: yellow
you? Free of
you, Miss, no more
x
Free Miss
boxed you up like an old sandwich
midnight blackberry jam
felt you at twilight heard you in moonlight
surely the unworthy will miss me
one day if not to day
the asian american experience is wearing an authentic céline bouclé coat with a faux chanel satchel
trashy sex and upscale excess
shy sex ob sessed
an outpour of support
a tinge of envy
a pinch of seduction
an innocent hello
square of applause
sitting ovation
up far and impersonal
a memory that dies zero per second and pulses forever, foreign and fresh
my eyes traveled from the stars to the crescent moon on his wrinkled face,
from his brown speckles to his hairy butt chin
you write about sex, i think about god
you sing of head, i mourn the dead
the devil was once an angel and is twice The Angel, Fallen
Metamorphosis, must it strike the pure?
she pried you open with a single question and out you spilled, saved, ‘fore mask killed
why? Why? why y? Y? y ?
fascination with objects v humans was the v that separated you n me
The Human Condition
whispers * I Need The Human
on the mind, in the brain
much to do, much i think
Listen close as she sings her song
Far much to come in her upcoming single: A Down Release
a toad sat in my stew as i steadily lifted the heat higher hotter faster stronger
the toad was my mother and she was so bothered so i told toad mother
there sits a faceless prince/ss at the end of this dinner and s/he’s a real charmer
/ /
she thinks i’m guilty of this crime, i know i’m guilty and sublime
/ /
i fell in love with the me you showed me three steps before you fell behind
catch my kiss as i wave goodbye
smell me forever, coco in your nose (not that kind) forever
inhale four, hold seven, exhale eight
iiii-hhhhhhh-eeeeeeee
eeee-aaaaaaa-hhhhhhhh
breathe, baby, you’re golden
they come in pairs but were Written Alone
how many lovers have you loved?
companionship or independence? choose one
passion sought fervor, and honesty made her yawn
fame or respect? choose one
these jaws that shred flesh and the limbs that shed bullets are my lovers
take time to make time
20 18
when the city of angels fell i climbed up and i flew down
oh-k!
the story of The Chosen
A sip of crisp air and 1 gulp of mango
Memory is kind generous and cruel
I smiled and I lied, I cracked and I cried
Thoop th thoo thoop
pleasure pleasure What’s Your Pleasure
Inject the story with sound
Every post, exposed
Married to aesthetic, loyal to revolution
The unspoken ever-loud flattery of imitation
There is Only One Original and Two of Nothing
One Two(3) Three(5)
Blinded by the need to feel seen
sight or sound? choose one
The specific sweetness of spicy tuna
The sun set at five but the night shone bright
CRAH pA PAH PAHP
I: the one that got away U: the one that i escaped
what would you do with the promise that no one, now or thereafter, would ever know?
Strawberry-flavored time
Camaraderie in otherness, comfort in solitude
o yeh oY eh O YEH
Mind over flesh Salmon over pork Skorts over skirts Polish over matte
Moi * ~
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