Placebo Effect

blank space

2012-01-17T18:16:00.002-08:00

'blank space"
remember when we laid on the carpet for hours
boxes all about, dishes un-packed,
laid there and stared,
empty walls to look at and
new counters,
smiled at all the blank space
because this was our first place.
remember when we fell asleep on the couch
blanket snug around, t.v. still on,
laid there and slept,
too cold inside on those winter days
to lay alone on the couch,
we just kissed all the cold away,
we used to talk and laugh
took baths together, had our pictures on the walls together,
burned boredom together,
but now we barely know each other,
just have those stares
on our faces
to read all the words we didn't say to each other,
remember when the cold inside felt colder when the bed was for one,
when the couch had no one,
when we finally found the words we shouldn't say and said them,
when the walls and counters became empty again,
when we plastered over the holes
cleaned the halls
packed the boxes
and stared at all the blank space again.
-Armando Torres

another day

2012-01-16T18:41:00.000-08:00

"another day"

I drink with the night, my ally, my comrade

and laugh at all the things I do

I've done and might,

drink another glass

cry

and regret those more the more I drink,

find my hole, my place, this sink,

vomiting
I regret more the things I drink,

its all past, all gone and done

and this toilet bowel

smells sour,

I've gone and drank away another day

passed the midnight hour

and I sit where I should stay

head hung low over my toilet bowel

waiting for the day.

-Armando Torres

the closer I stand

2012-01-13T17:35:00.000-08:00

"the closer I stand"
its not like I wanted this,
I did not intend to say bye like this
but here we are in this moment again,
instead
i prefer yesterday
before these mistakes were ever made,
or the day prior
before I knew the lies you liar,
its ok though
because I have already lit this fire
and there's no stopping those warm yellows
from burning everything and leaving me all warm and happy,
because the bitterness melts quicker
the closer I stand,
so
I raise my hands
and feel the warmth
of whats left;
on my palms,
the fire feels so much better
the closer I stand.
-Armando Torres

a ways away

2011-12-29T11:17:00.000-08:00

"a ways away"
I've realized I relish in being miserable, for it is only in those moments I find the beauty of the world if only to see it from a distance rather than being among it, away a ways, back behind the distant and faintest of memories, far off, long and dim and almost gone to gray, too distant to ever want to be a part, however I feel I could only ever find that beauty to see if I was a ways away, only then would I believe in that beauty, only then would I relish my misery as I do just so the world can be beautiful.
-Armando Torres

Its all a moment

2011-12-29T10:43:00.000-08:00

"its all a moment"
I find I could only have ever existed in a moment, never a life, never for more than a moment, none of us who think time moves along with us have ever existed for more than a moment, life is but a moment of significant insignificance, and that's the beauty of time and not life, the relative motion of it, the seemingly effortless movement of it, the grandness of it, all of it just to show the moment when it all existed, in a moment, just a moment, all of it. And None of it would have ever existed if that moment never existed at all.
-Armando Torres

Wherefore

2011-10-19T17:52:00.000-07:00

"Wherefore"
Its in the darkness it comes to visit, slithering
its whispers around the night sounds,
the tiny hum of street lamps numbs
my ears as I sit and listen and hear the whispers. Eyes hung heavy deep inside my head painting the round dark rings I can no longer see when the darkness has washed all over me. The cool midnight breeze from my opened window slices past my face and with it brings the whispers. I sit calmly and without worry staring ahead from my heavy leather chair,
arms hung over and head hung forward
but my eyes stare ahead.
Nothing moves inside this night nothing except the spattered beauty of red lines,
slowly painting their trail of final absolution rolling downward unto the floor. The whispers talk amongst the shadows and among the trees outside my window the eyes peer in to look in at me.
All I only have is this wall of defiant beauty and that body that painted it for me.

-Armando Torres

That Cackle Laugh

2011-10-18T20:03:00.001-07:00

"That Cackle Laugh"

Oh how that sweet and contorted mess of jumbled flesh lies before me, smiling a final smile that will forever infest this mind of mine. In the darkness of pale gloom that face lingers above all else staring deep into me looming low from the darkest corner of every room, forever haunting me. In the throws of disparity a dark ambiance slithers over my ears banging deep rumblings of oscillation, over and over on empty lonely nights and only the deep voice of my greatest fears provides any kind of thought. Sitting inside the filth of perception I see it again, that smiling face again, laughing, looking, watching as the noises get louder and from far off comes a deep thud where my soul has finally dropped its salvation; leaving it all behind with one final echo of past. And the cackling begins, a vastness of black lay before me only I see, a deep cavity of emptiness only I feel and there at the beginning of my absolution of insanity the face lies there smiling as if knowing it knew, but I cackle that last laugh because I knew before that face ever did.

-Armando Torres

unraveled thread

2011-10-13T18:04:00.000-07:00

"unraveled thread"
I can only hope that somewhere inside the fabric of time exists some kind of line of cotton thread, unraveled and twine this line of thread ready to be pulled but tightens instead. Why do I prefer to live inside those dreadful memories entwined in cotton thread as a prisoner of time even though however I cry my salty reminders dissolving away this fragile mind of mine with lingering thoughts of her. Further along this loosened thread I find my way misled deep within a river floating on down the stream drowning forever, however hope is not lost when I always find my unraveled string ready to bring me ashore just to mislead me once more to these sandy banks hoping I drown again once more.
-Armando Torres

The Morning Mist

2011-10-10T16:07:00.000-07:00

"The Morning Mist"
In the morning mist that lingers around us without us ever really realizing it there lies in wait a beautiful sunrise although not yet. The dull blues and grays drip in from night to day and we see the morning mist, we see the gentle shade of waking day, the blended gray of a world waiting; it's here we are, it's here we lay dreading the day to arrive never realizing however the gloom beauty of this morning mist because we see only the sorrow and pain of a dreaded day, never looking past those dull monotonous but blended grays and into that shaded beauty of morning day. The blues get lighter and the cold gets warmer and the softness of the orange begins to rise over the horizon painting away with it all the morning haze. It's here in these moments where we never realize how easy it is to forget about that lonely morning mist where instead for a moment we feel the beauty of day never to look back, never to acknowledge the beauty before, forever to never be in that moment of morning mist although it's there in those lonely moments waiting for the sunrise that the brush strokes of a painting are created, where the tears of a memory are shed, it's here in this morning mist where we shed all the burdens of pain and sorrow just for that single moment of fresh air when the oranges come over, where the shaded mist of the morning takes all we are willing to give and forever accepts it is not beautiful like a sunrise because of the pain it sheds for us, but somewhere in the those morning moments we do see its beauty but forget in a moment of clarity, inside a tear gone, for a love of infinite gray, we forget and the morning mist accepts its not beautiful like a sunrise; however it looks on through shaded mists of gray and accepts because it knows more than we can ever realize how we are more beautiful than a sunrise.
-Armando Torres

one note ♪

2010-12-11T12:03:00.001-08:00

"one note ♪"
From out the darkness a musical note sang, a single solitary note nothing more, a note of melancholy banging deep within me, I stared long as if the source of this low lonely note would appear here right before me but only that which i could hear appeared and nothing more, i had forgotten only to have the sadness swim in on this single thing, low and long, to float very fine along nature's lines for me to hear, gone are the days where i sought for this note to slide into obscurity and leave me be, to become nothing more but a bad memory but alas all I'm left with is this low lonely hum from out the darkness, everything i ever reached for stripped down to a single solitary note and nothing more.

Why

2010-02-21T11:56:00.000-08:00

"Why"
When I think about why I find I've realized you are more than my reason why; why I don't know but somehow its become something more than just right now slightly hidden within the moments of small seconds right in between the tiny slips of time where why has become all mine to find. Its love some would say but the day seems to have become much more than what is shown, all has become open all the doors and for this I know, its much more than just love, why I don't know but when I think about why I find I've realized you are more than just my reason why.
-Armando Torres

Just for that Kiss

2010-01-04T19:21:00.000-08:00

"Just for that Kiss"
Its cold and my nose feels it, she grabs my hands with her warm ones and rubs them. I don't even realize it but she makes everything melt away and new again; she holds my hands cupped in hers up to her lips and blows into them, making them warm again, I forget again about the whole world again. I don't even see the snowflakes falling or the icy chill in our breaths, it all just exists to make this moment perfect. She wraps her arms around me and holds me tight and I can only just hug her like all the warmth of the world exists just between us. I can feel her warm breath on my neck as she brushes closer to me for a kiss on my cheek. She grabs my hand, one finger over the other and we turn to walk away from that moment, breaths still lingering in the air, intimate sweet nothings still on the edges of our lips and I turn to her one last time and kiss her just for the moment, just to exist for that kiss.
-Armando Torres

What You Do To Me

2009-12-31T12:08:00.000-08:00

"What You Do To Me"
My life is justified because you’re in it, its because of you that everything means more than just something, it means everything again. Every time I hold you I have my whole world in my arms cause you are my whole everything and no harm will ever come this way; the sun rises and the night drips away. I never thought I’d see my whole world so tiny and big inside your eyes but that’s what you do to me. I forget the rest of the world away just so I can exist inside those tiny moments that paint a whole world just for the both of us; I find I realize I found everything I was looking for inside those eyes of yours, its all I see, that’s what you do to me. I cant find the seam nor do I mean to, I found what it is to be alive. You to me are like my eyes a view its seen but unlike a warm sunrise or soft clouds in the sky, I get to take you home with me. But coming here at first felt so new to me, almost felt I had cursed myself to be far from what I wanted, forever forgetting and finding no solace; but then I found you and I forgot what lonely felt like; loneliness no longer finds the need because the best thing of everyday is you, I love you. This is what you do to me.
-Armando Torres

dedicated to Elisa, love ya babe.

...but I can't stop kissing you

2009-11-16T23:03:00.000-08:00

"...but I can't stop kissing you"
But I can't stop kissing you because somewhere between these moments of everything, I've seen what it is that makes you so special, I've seen that part of your eyes that has become so essential in saying that which requires that of only a look, that part that says its here where I need to be, you kissing me, touching your lips with mine and finding that slice of life that contains everything I've ever wanted. The moments these lips seem to share even when but a mere space away is exactly where my life should be, its here where my lips feel that flash of bliss that lasts for so long inside a single moment and I hope for it, long for it, wish for it and find I can't stop kissing you even when that moment has long sinced past. The long moments of life at long last have found a purpose with just a kiss, thriving in pure infinity inside a single solitary moment. I live, I die, I find life only to realize I can't stop kissing you.
-Armando Torres

only nothing

2009-10-27T21:55:00.000-07:00

"only nothing"
My necklace broke today and for a brief instant I lay there waiting for the meaning of this to dawn upon me like a fierce breath of fresh air. Instead only the echoed silence lingered and the ringing in my ears floated fresh for me to hear, only the dim glow of the morning seemed to be watching as only dead bewilderment froze upon my face. I found nothing in that moment, nothing upon it that said to me it was of significance, nothing in the cosmos noticed, nothing except for me. For it was me that made that moment exist, it was me that made it so, it was I and not fate, it was my face that watched and not God. I saw and therefore it was and for a brief moment found what I was looking for only for it to fold into infinity and exist as an instant of only nothing.
-Armando Torres

I know

2009-08-13T13:55:00.000-07:00

"I know"
The candle flickers, the shadows dance over one another and the coolness of the night settles in and then you begin to feel it even though there seems to be nothing more but a lonely dark room lifeless of anything except for those dark reminders that creep up and over your eyes leaving bloodshot stains and dark bags. Its here where I see you, its here creeping up with my eyes that I peer into what you show without you knowing. You sit there alone because I aint there but I still see you; as I hover over your shoulders I see you and what you do. So don't forget that when alone feels just enough where no one knows, I know because I can see you. I find your hollow existence and watch just so somehwere in this mess of existence something finds purpose to be even if its just you. Just so there will be a record of your insignificant blip in this floating abyss of everything that is because you are somewhere even if alone feels so alone, dont because I know.
-Armando Torres

as he forever forgets

2009-08-03T17:59:00.000-07:00

"as he forever forgets"
Gone are the days of now, however
he can only slide the knife back and forth
with every motion bringing him closer
to where he thought everything he forgot to see
would still be there, but as time sneaks past
only the ugly hollow remains of now stains his face.

As he forever forgets what it was that brought him to this place,
the soft slices of a rusty knife only remind him of a life once worth living.
The salty tears of his regret
hang above
as they watch over and only spill when he remembers.
Gone are the days of now, only the little sounds of night shine bright;
only the days of here pierce his soul
because now doesn't exist when all you do is split your wrists.
He forgot how now feels and only writhes in here
because gone are the days of yester year.
Gone are all the regrets
as he forever forgets.
-Armando Torres

I can't save You

2009-07-25T20:38:00.000-07:00

"I can't save You"
Gasping for its last breath, I grab onto salvation as it spits out its last utterances in moarnful goodbyes slobbering it out on the edges of its lips; forever painting the last pathetic pictures it will forever tell and yet I try with all I have to shove my breath of life into this dying piece of archaic regret. The deep ugly and awful moans cry out for it to be saved and as I lurch over to try and save that which I thought was worth saving, the awful magnitude of perspective wraps around me like a blanket and tears me away; and I finally say goodbye forever because I can't save you.
-Armando Torres

similar places of yore

2009-07-01T19:11:00.001-07:00

"similar places of yore"
I find myself staring daringly into the unknown for those whose eyes stab into my back piercing deep just to catch a glimpse of what I see. I cant ever find my way back and yet somehow I find myself in similar places of yore; we live-we die and we find that which makes us see what we really never left, so there you stay in yester year staring daringly into here and now and yet somehow only let your eyes pierce my back just for that small glimpse of what I see. So I find myself in days forever gone trying desperately to find that which I think I see, only to say I believe those days are gone, only to let the long circles of night grow and the sounds of relevance pass looking back only to find myself in the same place I never thought Id be but yet somehow catch a glimpse of things I forgot to see.
-Armando Torres

...inside forever

2009-06-18T19:06:00.000-07:00

"...inside foerver"
...inside forever however, we never remind ourselves of the blind temptations that linger on the edges of depression for it is we that lie at the center of what it is to be and never do we find ourselves where we should be except there in that moment that seems to last for nothing but as a memory of pure nostalgia, though amensia drenched insomnia forces us to forget as the dark rings crop around things we finally see and has eluded us for so long, we finally remind ourselves just so we can forget inside forever.
-Armando Torres

I'll be There Soon

2009-06-12T21:30:00.000-07:00

"I'll be There Soon"
Oh how the twisted and contorted pictures of the world before my very eyes have unraveled into the very words that my mind has painted alive. It must have been the beer; its clear now that it was the liquor; I'm sure it was the shrooms; I know now Ill be there soon but for now I ride the high tide through these strange rainbows and butterflies, these loud sounds and white lights. I sway off the walls and fall upward toward the heavens as my eyes roll backward, the world seems to be playing with me, the stars and moon, I know now Ill be there soon. Where is it that I find these wonderful places, in all the faces, in between the spaces, somewhere crazy because these little pills sit still until I find my third eye to solve my problem of balance, at first glance my first chance is walking sideways on my wall but just fall and crawl to where I end, cause I aint immune. I know now Ill be there soon.
-Armando Torres

another thing

2009-06-02T14:07:00.000-07:00

"another thing"
The same monotonous morning, the same damn buzzing of the clock, the same fucking feeling of falling in the same spot. I can't seem to find the meaning in my mornings anymore except for when I realize there isn't anymore; so there I stay as it comes to this and dissolve away another day tasting only the salty remains of another pointless day. I lose another part of me to the monotony of time, ticking the seconds away to a place forever captured by the meaningless reality of now as I do nothing but lie in bed unraveling the fabrics of my existence to reveal only that hollow part of me. The worn wear of my blanket and bed, the pillows and ringing in my head are all thats left of me here in these mornings. The crumpled mess of sheets and clothes remind me of another monotonous morning, remind me of all but another thing.
-Armando Torres

Pacing

2009-05-24T16:43:00.000-07:00

"Pacing"
The sound of that lonely hum outside reminds me of all those lonely nights, constantly finding myself inside pacing to the dark wonders of the night.
It all reminds me of all I've ever done wrong, it all kills me, buries me and nails my coffin shut because alone is as dark and desperate as six feet below the ground with only the muted sounds of screams falling on my own ears.
I can't, won't, and never will find or understand this man I call myself; life somehow has found a way to spit on this face everytime I look up, so I lose myself inside the lonely hum outside as I pace through the motions of my loneliness.
-Armando Torres

My Friend

2009-05-11T19:45:00.000-07:00

"My Friend"
Ancient dust, old rust, like a picture worn thin, I look back then to find my friend, somewhere rusted back behind the brand new, its there where I find you always, the tried and truest part of me, however and forever my friend because again and again its you I find in my weakest of moments, in my most cherished of moments, in those few seconds of brittle elegance, the delicate brushes of memory, the touches of back then that makes now so full of meaning, but however and where ever here leads I have found that which beats with me in the truest sense of what it means to finally have that one person that really and truly transcends a relation of end and will always be my friend. I again find myself somewhere back behind the new, right with the old rust, floating in the wind, gliding with the dust, looking back then to finally find that one true friend.
-Armando Torres

a birthday present; Happy Birthday Yessenia!

Painted

2009-05-10T21:11:00.000-07:00

"Painted"
I'm saving you in that kiss. I'm dying in this bliss, so as I watch you walk away from me I stand alone forsaken to myself and forever painted in anguish; there to stand frozen in pain there between that square frame, existing only for that moment, I hold it all in waiting for it to end but forge only the memories that will always stay painted, only to ever be. I'm saving your kiss inside this painted abyss only for it to exist as a moment of pure confliction, only so these eyes of mine can always say "I miss you" as they reminsce all the painful hurt. So I'm saving you in that kiss as I forever watch you walk away from me, forever painted in this painful anguish.
-Armando Torres

things we see

2009-05-02T11:49:00.000-07:00

"things we see"
my blood stained eyes hold weary the wear of the day and gaze out to the blur in between my face and space, only realizing for a moment existence is futile when you've forgetten about time, all the while line after line it snorts obscurity straight to the brain where all that matters fades and only irrelevance stays. oh yes, this place, is blessed, one less, thing for god and me to see, so I hang my head back again and find that place to look in and instead of finding the end, I do it all over again.
-Armando Torres

beautifully gifted

2009-04-29T21:14:00.000-07:00

"beautifully gifted"
There is something profoundly majestic in being so beautifully gifted in fitting with me, yet there exists a love note for no one but the empty air, the filling silence, no one and nothing but the stripped and bare reality that sits in front of my face. These emotions swirl around for nothing and no one and feels all too real even though however and perhaps because there seems to be nothing more but the breaths of whispers right in front of me, nothing more than an empty sore of self torn scabs; nothing more but the barren wasteland of an empty love that exists for no one but for the fact that its fabric of existence needs to be without end. I find myself writing an empty love note for nothing and no one but only for the feeling of finding it inside me without that which should be but isnt, that which should mean but is only meant. But for some other reason other than another, there is something profoundly majestic in being so beautifully gifted in not existing.
-Armando Torres

a perfect chance

2009-04-21T19:19:00.000-07:00

"a perfect chance"
A floating amalgamation of inspiration and chance inspires me to write with a fire from inside, a blunder in perfect chaos somewhere floating forever inside some perfect dance, a ballet of thought and glance but alas never touch but that of only a perfect chance. Somehow lost with purpose but found with irrelevance only to realize by chance the chaotically perfect design of simplicity, so these eyes close for they know somehow that in the beauty of that black a floating thought of absolutely everything I want floats inside a perfect chance.
-Armando Torres

dedicated to Kate, my amalgamation

"it aint done"

2009-04-16T00:14:00.000-07:00

"it aint done"
slosh it down till its gone, drink it down 'cause its there, gulp it down 'cause it aint done and now watch as the world doesn't care and wait for the room to tilt from side to eye and eye to side. watch as the ground feels like air and drink some more 'cause its there; now forget the day for the night and regret the night in the light as you drain your memories for all they're worth; as floating yellow vacancies. so slosh it down till its gone, drink so more with whores and be sure to gulp it open 'cause it aint done.
-Armando Torres

somewhere there

2009-04-07T20:27:00.000-07:00

"somewhere there"
Its there, somewhere right there that I find that moment of peace that lets me melt the rest of the world away. No matter how much happens throughout the day its there, right there that I find the world in a moment and I forget in a moment, the world away. The spring heat whistles outside my window and the soft caresses of warm light touch my face and yet its right there, somewhere away from all that where I forget and life seems to count for nothing other than for that moment.
-Armando Torres

my dichotomy

2009-04-05T10:29:00.000-07:00

"my dichotomy"
I hate how you have me, I hate how you love me, I hate that I love you and everything that you do. I hate how your eyes are the most beautiful eyes Ive ever tasted with mine. I hate how your lips taste like pure bliss and I hate how so passionately we kiss. I hate how perfect you feel in my heart and I hate how perfect you smile and I hate how apart we are. I hate how I cant walk away and I hate how I cant say goodbye. I hate how much I love you and I love how much I hate you. I hate this, I hate it. I hate how I can see you but only exist as your secret. I hate how much I love this; I hate my dichotomy.
-Armando Torres

only a tear away

2009-04-04T17:03:00.000-07:00

"only a tear away"
I was fooled by the lonely illusion of thought of actually finding 'you'; you were nothing more than a reminder of my lonely life, nothing more than an exercise in delight. We felt right together but the fabrics of responsibility seemed too much in our infant state and you became nothing more but my reminder that life laughs coldest when you cry the loneliest tears. I found you only to not have you because this glass wall is too hard and too high to climb. So its here at my crossroad of life that I find you only a tear away; I miss you I say and you can see it only a tear away.
-Armando Torres

the Kiss that never Ends

2009-04-03T21:00:00.000-07:00

"the Kiss that never Ends"
Even though I live most of the day without your kiss I find myself existing inside the small moments shared by our lips, wanting nothing more but to have those kisses to last for always. We kiss and we hold and waste the day with nothing more but the moments in between. I hold the air that lies intertwined between our tongues as we slide past one another until finally that air escapes our lungs where the moment finally lives its last seconds; and it is here at this time again that I start my fantasy again, where your lips contain the kiss that never ends.
-Armando Torres

through this pen

2009-04-03T20:49:00.001-07:00

"through this pen"
I have to find myself in the right state of mind to write these words that I find, so to cry my tears through this pen my lonesome thoughts forsaken from the world and forged of things not. I somehow found being bound by my despair keeps me bare enough only to stare away and find these words to say; the empty air hangs heavy inside my room because it is how I find those forgotten thoughts which hide behind all the distractions the world has brought. Somewhere in the empty light that lingers I daze into obscurity and lose my mind only to find it a lonely thought away, only to feel it one single tear away; and I cry, I cry these words through this pen all the thoughts of forsaken men.
-Armando Torres

Was Once but Now Just Was

2009-03-19T10:20:00.000-07:00

"Was Once but Now Just Was"
There in the tattered weathered walls, in between those fallen desolate halls, right there beside the peeling paint and somewhere inside this dreary place lies in a different time, in a different life what it was once but is now just was and because time has washed away and has left what is, its many moments slowly slide further from this abandoned place leaving only the hollow silence of forgotten whispers, just enough to remember life lived through, just enough to feel the desolate pull of everything that once was but now exists only as everything that just is and will never be again. So I walk through with echoed steps and the soft ringing in my ears, with the stillness of forgotten elegance and the secrets too soft to hear; looking for the tears this place has shed and find them in places no one would ever care to look because what once was is just enough to be remembered. My eyes find the forgotten corners, the crying walls, the fallen floors and the empty halls. They find the tears that were shed so long ago with no one ever to see them, to be as a ghost and find existence as a hollow reminder on the tips of whispers that it was once but now just was.
-Armando Torres

a pointless speck

2009-03-12T15:10:00.000-07:00

"a pointless speck"
I found the meaning of my life just to watch it erode right before my eyes to a pointless speck of pale light shining in the distance in a black sky sprinkled with countless other pointless points. I had found it just to be fooled once more by all my expectations and now find myself in a tender position. A dark sky hanging overhead peppered throughout with tiny specks letting through the faint reminder of everything Ive ever got wrong but shining down a flawless hope like the tip of a diamond only to be ripped away everytime I hang my head down so low, hung heavy because I watch my meaning erode into a pointless speck of pale light.
-Armando Torres

A Chance

2009-03-10T20:58:00.000-07:00

"A Chance"
I wanted a chance with you, just a chance. It was over before it ever started and thats why the tears fall on the inside. I wont let you see me cry, I wont let you see these feelings die, you will just taste the painful hurt on my face. Just the empty stare of a broken man, barren and bare, watching you leave with my smile hidden behind those sad eyes of yours because we both know all we needed was a chance, just a chance. I cant see you anymore through this foggy stare, they finally got out and you cant ever see them because your life doesnt need them, it doesnt need me. There's no longer room for that once beautiful secret you gave my eyes everytime I spoke a mile in words, no more room for your smile you hid away from the world and lovingly gave to me. No more and never because our chance is nothing and nowhere. All I ever wanted was a chance, just one chance.
-Armando Torres

I can still...

2009-03-03T12:19:00.000-08:00

"I can still..."
I can still taste you on my lips, I can still feel your hand rub mine, I do and still miss you. The day changes for night, the night for day and again we hold our breaths as the end approaches just so we can say goodbye again. We trade today for tomorrow, tomorrow for right now and a little later I can still taste you on my lips. The soft touches of your silky kisses, the shared seconds our lips share and I do still miss you. I close my eyes and lay alone and finally know where that big empty hole no longer is because there in those sensual seconds we shared, I can still taste you on my lips.
-Armando Torres

Its always been You

2009-02-28T22:51:00.000-08:00

"Its always been You"
Its you, its always been you and somehow I've been lucky enough to find you. Its in these moments that I can feel my life put together the pieces and get better; its in these moments I find myself again and say hello again and finally come up for air and breath again. I find myself everytime you smile and grin, everytime while I realize its been you and its always been you, everytime, everytime you smile again. Only for those lucky enough to find it I find myself today as you smile and say, its you, its always been you.
-Armando Torres

holding on

2009-02-17T10:39:00.001-08:00

"holding on"
there they are, existing fresh for the present glorifying the past with better times, trying to relive a moment in pure obscurity but find only the deep empty hole in your chest where your tears fall. not holding on you let go realizing the overwhelming hole of one and alone and finally grab hold a moment of pure obscurity.
-Armando Torres

That Life

2009-02-07T17:56:00.000-08:00

"That Life"
You said goodbye and closed your eyes
and faded away from that life,
You stayed strong for so long
and died a man with all wrong.
You lost everything at the end
just to find there was nothing left,
just to find the empty face of death,
just to finally realize all the wrong you had left.
We all walked that line in that life
to meet an end of demise
so to say that we died
at the end of our life,
but you saw it all for nothing matters
no regrets because nothing matters,
so you say goodbye and close your eyes
and finally fade away from that life.
-Armando Torres

my mistakes

2009-01-17T01:21:00.000-08:00

"my mistakes"
I woke up today smiling to the early morning never realizing the mistakes to come, never seeing the warnings to and from just forgetting and waking again hoping today brings another one just another one like this. I forget to miss the day and see the point of not knowing what to miss then somewhere I find myself smiling to the early forming day even when the dim glow of the softly lit crescent in the sky drips on only one side of my face, even when realizing those mistakes have come and gone and some still here I still just find myself here with sickness in my stomach smiling because today I woke up smiling to the early morning never realizing my mistakes to come.
-Armando Torres

it was a beautiful day

2009-01-10T11:39:00.000-08:00

"it was a beautiful day"
We locked eyes in that one beautiful moment and in an instant melted the rest of the world away and for that, it was a beautiful day. Clouds hung heavy overhead and gray seemed every which way but in that moment it was a beautiful day; we forgot about the icy roads and the snowy sidewalks, the bitter cold and the small sharp rocks, we forgot and found the day. Never noticed the cold breath lingering before our faces or the winter hues in between the spaces. Never noticed for your eyes seemed to feel me on the inside tasting my very core salivating on every flavor and in that moment we lost everything just to exist inside each other's eyes.
-Armando Torres

Separating Line

2009-01-04T23:00:00.000-08:00

"Separating Line"
The sky is oh so gray today and the hills so white its hard to find their separating line. It all hangs oh so low like milk poured from the sky, like white sheets draped over their separating line. Just a moment of pure blended shades of gray forever rubbed into obscurity behind those times whom have separating lines.
-Armando Torres

Placebo Effect: A Poetry Anthology

2009-01-01T22:16:00.000-08:00

Hello faithful readers. I know Ive been somewhat absent in posting but I cant force creativity.

Anyway, Im here to tell you that I published a book of poerty and if you would like to buy it, here is the link.

Placebo Effect: A Poetry Anthology

Its a collection of poems Ive shared with you on this blog and other pieces that Ive kept private but decided to include in this book. I didnt make the book to become rich or famous or none of that crap. I wrote the book as a hobby and would like to share my thoughts with you and if you feel like sitting by a fire or on a sunny beach or in your backyard and wander through my thoughts then this is the book for you.

Placebo Effect: A Poetry Anthology

I died again...

2008-12-21T21:55:00.000-08:00

"I died again..."
I'm a hollow shell of what I used to be. Long nights is how I live with bloodshot eyes and empty rooms. Empty nights and full moons. I died and didn't even notice. I died and didn't even feel it. I'm somewhere between what is and was while will be is only something for those who haven't died. And there I forget where I am and become dead everytime I remember again.
-Armando Torres

Cigarette Tip

2008-12-19T10:56:00.000-08:00

"Cigarette Tip"
Steam rises from his lips like a cigarette tip amidst winter breeze. His eyes frozen solid inside cold hardness and his nose seized in icy chills that slice across his face. And yet he stands there like a burning tip amidst a winter breeze, like a red glow burning hot embers, a red slowly withering away as the silky lines of gray rise into the icy air and still he stands there. Somewhere hidden behind the falling white flakes lies what his eyes have found and thus have died a death frozen not in time but there where everything dies. The winter's knife edge pierces the very fabric of his reality as it slowly slides past cutting with icy precision that which he looks out to. Like a cigarette tip, burning not red embers but for today, just this December away.
-Armando Torres

Snowflake Splendor

2008-12-15T18:00:00.000-08:00

"Snowflake Splendor"
Sitting inside as it snows with windows closed outside, the cool breaths of winter hit the edges of her pane and there the soft fog forms. And somewhere in that December white she sits in silence shedding tears for something that feels so far away. The soft yellow glow of her bed side lamp glitters off her diamond-like teardrops as they roll to the curves of her face. Alone feels so alone this time of year when your face is all she sees. Pain feels so painful when she feels only the echo of touches. The sky slowly falls outside and settles softly on the cold icy ground. Crystals of infinite shapes crack the monotony of her window and the forever gray paints a somber white picture of her December winter. The bare trees back drop the falling scenery as her eyes look out to the dying light and she sits in darkness to shed tears of snowflake splendor.
-Armando Torres

Age of Innocence

2008-11-11T02:26:00.000-08:00

Forever Never Happens

2008-11-10T01:37:00.000-08:00

"Forever Never Happens"
There are no rainbows or butterflies in her beautiful lie only the long empty look of her eyes. She sits drenched inside lonely gloom dripped through her apartment window, crying for the day to return. The sounds of silence deafen her within the haunted echoes of muted seclusion. She is loneliness personified soaked in lugubrious despair. Forever never lost in the moments of here and then when the beginning is only her end. She is no longer eighteen forever. No longer that sweet girl she so remembers in those moments of hollow stares. The long shadows have grabbed at her heart as she clings to the soft gloom that softly pours through her window hoping inside deep tears everything will pass. She is no longer eighteen forever because forever never happens.
-Armando Torres

Somewhere

2008-11-03T02:51:00.000-08:00

"Somewhere"
Somewhere beneath these stars I stand a man looking back into the black that lay in between the pale specks of light spattered throughout the sky. Somewhere there exists a lonely point of pale light shining its whole existence into my eye in a flickering moment of irrelevance. And somehow I find those memories that add relevance to these moments under the dim points of flickering light. For my chest fills with something more than the cold night air and my eyes let fall something more than just tears. And somewhere beneath these stars I stand a man shining back his lonely point of pale light.
-Armando Torres

lonely road

2008-10-27T14:19:00.000-07:00

"lonely road"
Damn that long dark lonely road
for it makes him feel every second of every hour.
And somehow
the moon has found this lonely man
as he speeds through the loneliness
and drips away into the black that surrounds.
Seeing only what the light reveals to him
and following only what is given,
he finds himself lost
down that damn long dark lonely road.
-Armando Torres

I bore witness

2008-10-16T14:20:00.000-07:00

"I bore witness"
There on that throne of skin and bone
I dare to look that which I dare to see,
I bare witness and from the darkness
moans a voice "It has come to this,"
And stand where my feet should stay
I look upon that devil as it turns and says to me,
bare witness to this,
And a horrifying beast marched out from darkness
with pain and suffering in follow forged in the fires of misery,
And stand where my feet should stay
I look upon that beast as it snarls and says to me,
bare witness to this,
And a man from shadow comes forth draped in blood and sorrow,
Plagued by the haunting memories of man's thought
he rot as to cry those tears of things not,
There under that hood of blood and pain
I dare to see that which he cried to me,
bare witness to this,
And all those thoughts of mine
were plagued with stains
and I cried those tears of things gone
forever forgetting
I bore witness to this.

I look upon that devil
as I fall further into my own abyss,
forever forgetting
I had caused all this.
-Armando Torres

...looking back

2008-10-13T17:03:00.000-07:00

"...looking back"
All that is left is the echo,
the hollow shell of a past life I once followed.
All I have is darkness to drink
and sorrow to wallow in.
Now at my end I am gone, forever losing my view and sight,
forever in time but now nothing is left
but the looming regret
as it echoes continuously
throughout my head.
-Armando Torres

Waiting...

2008-10-10T13:07:00.000-07:00

"Waiting..."
He stands there waiting for you ever so carefully , just waiting;
There behind the shadows, back behind the cries of sorrow, just waiting,
Somwhere there right in front but hidden away from the sun,
Waiting for the day to grab the words you say and crumble your world away,
Just waiting there back behind the faces, there where a moment meets time
and a thought meets reality
He stands there waiting for you ever so carefully, just waiting.
-Armando Torres

2008-09-19T02:38:00.000-07:00

-Armando Torres

Dear Marie

2008-09-13T13:59:00.000-07:00

"Dear Marie,

Oh sweet Marie, I understand now why we couldn't be as I put this pen down to this sheet, its becasue I couldn't realize your sacrifice for me. I don't and won't ever deserve you so goodbye and be good as I try to let you fade as you let fade my 'I love you's'. The whispers of a past we once shared doesn't let me forget so easily and so there you stay in my faintest image. I realize now I postponed your life; realize now I was your lie and you were probably better off without us being You and I; better off without me by your side. But you were the only beauty in these sad eyes and I realize now you were better off. I understand now why we couldn't be, its because I couldn't realize your sacrifice for me. I don't deserve you so now I say I love you and goodbye. I now know I postponed your life and it kills me on the inside to know this was the way. I miss you I do but I have to look past these haunting memories that once brought so much light to my day. I miss you I do but I have to look past, so goodbye and be good. I love you."

empty tears

2008-09-08T01:20:00.000-07:00

"empty tears"
There in the dismal glow of the television screen he finds himself crying again not because it hurts but because its there again. He sits silently inside his chair lost inside his own mind as the tv spits its blues and greens onto his face. A bottle of Jack sits by his side as his arm hangs over the armrest and his fingers dangle but a mere space away. The ice in his glass has long since melted but he prefers his whiskey warm anyway when that pain has him so torn. His whiskey stained tears roll down his face as he searches for the logic of this darkness. Remnants of the day no longer linger on his walls but the wear of the night hangs low under his eyes. His lips have not tasted a sweet touch for so long but find the bittersweet company of a warm whiskey bottle every night. The thick smell of tears and whiskey and sweat hang heavy in his room as he sits inside his own stench of bitterness to question his darkness as it knows not of his pain. Drenched in his own depressing filth he grabs that empty glass again and pours his liquid destruction again not because it hurts but because that pain is there again.
-Armando Torres

the divide

2008-09-04T13:09:00.000-07:00

"the divide"
Its easier to see in the dark all those things that we find hard, all those things we would want gone but instead are there in those few moments that last for so long. Your eyes are lost waiting for past sweet things to come alive and remind you of a life once better than this.
Then the hardness of black starts to soften and you find your eyes lost again,
the reality of my life in this moment is not divided by the shutting of my eyes but instead is bled together
and somewhere the line between you and I lost its meaning and we became one in the same.
The endless abyss of all those things we missed now exists when I open my eyes and I no longer see the soft blue glow of moonlight, I no longer hear the gentle breaths of wind or feel the soft carress of things seen,
I no longer exist outside this endless darkness because its easier to see in the dark all those things we missed.
-Armando Torres

Those beautiful eyes

2008-08-27T02:40:00.000-07:00

"Those beautiful eyes"
The night silence surrounds us both as I hear nothing but my own deep breaths,
My heart jumps as it first feels your hand touch mine and I fight to control your opened thighs,
Somewhere in this soft darkness I feel your breath inch closer to mine as my hand so softly slides up your arm where it finds a comfortable home beside those eyes,
I look upon your face as the moonlight glitters inside your elegant eyes falling even more mesmorized with every moment fueling this arousing passion that I can no longer ignore,
Somewhere in those eyes, your beautiful eyes, I lost all self control and fell more in love with this feeling,
my hand continues to wander as I nibble on your ear whispering sweet nothings for you to hear, I let you feel my delicate brushes of my fingertips around your naval as I fall even more in love with this lust, under your blouse my hand has wandered and I'm too far in love to ever look back to ponder,
all over my body an uncontrollable shiver of desire has overwhelmed my senses and all I want is for our naked bodies to be against one another as we feel the silky sensation of our skin sliding against each other,
I want our lips touching with eyes closed so tight,
I want our breaths deep and long as we slide back and forth,
I want to feel you from the inside, again and again and again with
nothing but our sweat and soft moans for the moment,
I want it all but Im still only here staring into your eyes,
your beautiful eyes.
-Armando Torres

hollowed thoughts

2008-08-25T01:56:00.000-07:00

"hollowed thoughts"
I wait in so many ways for this pain to go away but everytime my mind touches them the misery becomes real again. Like when the light slips up over the dark and the veil is stripped away making me see what it is this darkness would have me live with. Why I say for I dont ask anymore, so why I say inside every moment of every day beside the lurking fear of finding it again today. There is no place left inside this hallowed shell of pain, nowhere left to go and nothing left to see but this empty shell of misery. Knowing not within time where other than here holds all I want to know, two places at once, nothing I can do so knowing nothing I lose all I once knew. I know not what you speak of and I dare not know that which I do not understand for there lies at my hands that which I cannot grasp just to haunt me in my face with all that I do not understand.
-Armando Torres

My Inspiration

2008-08-21T17:13:00.000-07:00

I don't do regualar posts on this blog but I have gotten a lot of questions asking me where I get my inspiration from to write my pieces. So I decided that I would just dive a little into my thought process so you guys can understand where my writing stems from. Firstly, not all my writing is pulled from personal experiences, its just that I understand personal issues real well and I can strip away everything with an unbiased perspective to the point where these ideas exist just barely enough where most overlook them. What I do is try to get in the right state of mind, I try to ignore distractions but I dont get rid of them because every little sound, image, or touch can evoke a certain feeling or idea that you may have otherwised overlooked.

Once I find that one feeling or idea, I strip everything away from it leaving only the very essence of what makes it real and I try to understand how its real. I look at the very building blocks of an emotion or feeling and I look at it like a stone in my hand. I see it from all angles and see it for what it is. I am now free to add any situation to it, free to fabricate its existence and create the feeling.

Its easy to get lost in an idea and we do it all the time when we daydream. Sometimes I get so lost in a thought, I go blind to the world around me and venture into this fabricated realm that I have created just to fine tune the feelings one would feel in a certain situation, almost to the point of having to live it. And for me, inspiration can come from anywhere, a song, a person, the sound of the wind blowing the leaves outside my window, the clouds looking down on me, the way the grass feelings against the palm of my hands, everything evokes a certain feeling and most ignore those feelings where I try to realize they are there and understand what my mind is feeling when it happens. Its those little things that really build the complicated mess of emotion and thought a person is encompassed of because everything stems from somewhere. You take it back to the most basic of things and you realize the beauty of how intricate an emotion can be and its butterfly effect.

I try to think about the things people are scared to acknowledge or just dont realize that are there. I try to find the things that have fallen in through the cracks that leave only the emotion. I find the feeling behind the emotion. I see the little pieces inside the machine, I see the intricate and complex beauty of a distorted, jumbled mess of thoughts and sort them out. One at a time.

pictures from deviantart

Thick Blanket

2008-08-16T11:48:00.000-07:00

"Thick Blanket"
On a lonely quiet summer night I sit in silence waiting for that slice of time. My wandering eyes find their way around the tiny sounds of midnight and ponder. The soft gurgling of the stream grabs hold of my ears and I listen; I listen to the deepest thoughts of where there is nowhere left to go. The night is the thick blanket that accompanies me when my mind is cold, it is the companion to dark thought; the darkest thoughts of night. Waiting for that thin sliver to call my own inside the cesspool of lonesome questions that live inside shadow, I wander about only to find that I exist to cause myself pain and I lose myself again. I lose myself every time the night grows dark.
-Armando Torres

A single solitary tear

2008-08-13T12:37:00.000-07:00

"A single solitary tear"
I live with the pain inside everyday of my life and everytime I stare at the ceiling lying awake at night I drift away from everything that is and was and realize the early morning frost forming on my window, staining my eyes with what seems like forever and falling into that single solitary moment where time seems to count for nothing. All I feel is the emptiness before my eyes, the hallowed out memories of a life not worth living and yet the early morning frost forms. The droplets streak down the glass leaving their trail for my eyes to follow, not waiting for the world to notice, just waiting for my eyes to hallow. Everytime the night grows long the pain inside streaks down may face leaving a trail for no one to follow and still the early morning frost forms. The thin crystals of ice await my eyes to find that single solitary moment, existing for that one brief instant to stain my mind as I watch here in this mirror my single solitary tear. To drift away from everything that is and was and realize here in this mirror all my pain poured into this single solitary tear as it holds the truth of how vain it really is. These eyes stare into my soul as my tear rolls downward to the end of its existence, to finallly let go crashing unto the floor to nevermore be a part of my soul.
-Armando Torres

a feeling?

2008-08-09T22:51:00.000-07:00

"a feeling?"
Here I am feeling it again, a feeling from so long ago felt for someone whom had no face and died a death only as memory but here it is again, felt again and still waiting. I can feel it creep up again long after what was deemed the end and yet this moment still exists waiting for the right alignment. Still lingering to find a moment cut from time, to exist forever folded upon itself never to let go and to always have that moment. You remembered me before you knew me and I longed for something I never knew was there, you felt the touch of my memory in a brief moment of alignment before we ever met, wandering leisurely with only those moments with no space in between to ever know we were ever together in a tiny slice of time cut away from the rest. In that moment we saw only the best thats why the pain is so real, thats why the pain is so deep, because I can feel it creep up again long after I thought I had left it behind, but I lied, I saw it again somewhere in those eyes, and in the end there to stand alone am I because I saw it again somewhere behind those eyes.
-Armando Torres

Good-bye?

2008-08-05T17:38:00.000-07:00

"Good-bye?"
When will that last goodbye escape my lips? Those last words I hope to say and yet here I stand above your grave. I say it everyday and mean it in a moment. I walk away everyday and the remnants of those dead days lingers on my face. When will that last goodbye escape my lips? Like the moment you drift to sleep, never knowing when it happens; you just fall into the darkness in a peaceful tumble, sinking away from reality, resting peacefullly until those dreams remind you. When will that last goodbye escape my lips?
-Armando Torres

Bum

2008-07-28T00:57:00.000-07:00

"Bum"
I sit here alone,
For I know no one
and no one knows me
as I sit here alone in these streets,
no one can see me
and no one wants to see me,
so I constantly sleep
in these shadows,
having the darkness all to my own
to sit in all alone
with dirt on this face and raggedy clothes,
these weary eyes have seen the dark
and this lonely mind has been lonely for a very long time;
In the shadows I stay
to die alone
away from a world I was never a part of,
I die and the world will never know
never to show-a tear,
or grow
to embrace me,
For no one can see me,
Nothing is all I can be
in a world that has forgotten me,
to sit alone in these streets
to die alone where no one will see
to leave this world
and have no one ever remember me,
Because I know no one
and no one knows me.
-Armando Torres

that old wooden wall

2008-07-25T15:50:00.000-07:00

"that old wooden wall"
He sits in the corner inside that old wooden house, inside that old wooden chair staring into that old wooden wall; he remembers with eyes glazed over looking back on this warm summer day as the warm rays pour through the window warming his old weary face. The dust dances slowly through the thin yellow lines of light shining through that barren room of wood and walls. Those eyes have lost all meaning no longer seeing that worn wall but into something that fills his face empty with despair. Nothing remains in that room but a man and a chair.
-Armando Torres

The soft light

2008-07-17T13:10:00.000-07:00

"The soft light"
This soft gloom exists only for what I can find to write
as it fends off the looming shadows,
I see those steps extending upwardly into the sky
as they hide behind those devious white clouds,
and somewhere between the lines I can feel it,
and somewhere underneath the sounds I can hear it,
and somewhere in the darkness I can see it,
This soft gloom exists only for what I can find to write

Writing in the dark in so many ways
brings all that I'd rather forget
but instead its where its all I can see.
Somewhere in the darkness lies everything I am,
waiting for that one moment for me to realize
so to fall deeper into the darkness,
to look forever and never find that soft light
that I had to write in,
that I had for anything and everything

Somewhere behind my closed eyes
there in the almagamation of thoughts and darkness
lays in wait that one moment of my life where I realize
that I am no longer alive,
that one moment where what I find to write
is never found by that soft light.
-Armando Torres

lost and never found

2008-07-13T13:53:00.000-07:00

"lost and never found"
I searched for something to hold on to, grabbing wildly and finding nothing
and I searched for the seperating line for where the day ends and the night begins,
I searched for the air to breath as I felt my life drip out of me, gasping uncontrollably and breathing painfully
and I searched for the upside down mountains as I circled around again,
I searched for the strength to keep my eyes open, blinking wildly and finding nothing to see
and I searched for the vertical horizon that stretches from below and back up to the sky again,
I searched for the words to become the last words I would ever say, moaning deeply and finding nothing to say
and I searched for someone as I laid there alone, looking wildly and finding no one,
I searched for that one person who would watch me fade and found only the last breath I would ever take,
I searched and found no one and nothing to say,
I searched and found nothing and no one...
-Armando Torres

Miss me?

2008-07-07T03:28:00.000-07:00

"Miss me?"
You would turn twenty-one today and I remember the way you would say that today was the day; that today was your day. As I look back that way into that gray haze I try to remember through the mist but I'm lost. As I look back through my fog I don't want to leave you but I'm lost again today and no longer can I see past this fog. You would turn twenty-one today and I can remember your face and the way you taste, I remember that today you said those words on your death bed now forever repeating inside my head and still I refuse to listen. They echo forever inside my mind and every time I hear them I can see you. I remember seeing that last breath escape your lips as the life left your eyes and still I won't listen. You would turn twenty-one today and I remember the way you would say that today was your day to die. I look back that way into that gray haze to hear your words; "don't miss me on this day" you said. "Don't miss me today."
-Armando Torres

Those Eyes

2008-07-03T00:17:00.001-07:00

"Those Eyes"
Into those gleaming eyes I see the misery of your life; I see all those things in your dreams all the secret little things kept in secret from everything, but in those eyes I can see all your lies. You have no feelings but the pain where it stains your feelings for evermore. Leaving you so empty inside with eyes that seem to die everytime the light touches them. No longer open to see all those things you swore you saw but never seen. Swore to never miss but missed all there is to miss, saw all there is to see but never saw all that you missed. I left a hallow shell of me inside your memories, to be destroyed in a dance of thoughts and memories to finally die a death only darkness will see.
-Armando Torres

Bluebird by Charles Bukowski

2008-06-28T16:43:00.000-07:00

"Bluebird"

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I'm not going
to let anybody see
you.

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I pur whiskey on him and inhale
cigarette smoke
and the whores and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks
never know that
he's
in there.

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say,
stay down, do you want to mess
me up?
you want to screw up the
works?
you want to blow my book sales in
Europe?

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too clever, I only let him out
at night sometimes
when everybody's asleep.
I say, I know that you're there,
so don't be
sad.
then I put him back,
but he's singing a little
in there, I haven't quite let him
die
and we sleep together like
that
with our
secret pact
and it's nice enough to
make a man
weep, but I don't
weep, do
you?
-Charles Bukowski

Tupac Shakur: "Only God can Judge me"

2008-06-28T13:46:00.000-07:00

I took the liberty and edited it as to only include Tupac's parts.

"Only God can Judge Me"

Only God can judge me, is that right?
[synth voice] Only God can judge me now
Only God baby, nobody else, nobody else
All you other motherfuckers get out my business

[Verse One: 2Pac]

Perhaps I was blind to the facts, stabbed in the back
I couldn't trust my own homies just a bunch a dirty rats
Will I, succeed, paranoid from the weed
And hocus pocus try to focus but I can't see
And in my mind I'ma blind man doin time
Look to my future cause my past, is all behind me
Is it a crime, to fight, for what is mine?
Everybody's dyin tell me what's the use of tryin
I've been Trapped since birth, cautious, cause I'm cursed
And fantasies of my family, in a hearse
And they say it's the white man I should fear
But, it's my own kind doin all the killin here
I can't lie, ain't no love for the other side
Jealousy inside, make em wish I died
Oh my Lord, tell me what I'm livin for
Everybody's droppin got me knockin on heaven's door
And all my memories, of seein brothers bleed
And everybody grieves, but still nobody sees
Recollect your thoughts don't get caught up in the mix
Cause the media is full of dirty tricks
Only God can judge me

[Verse Two: 2Pac]

I hear the doctor standing over me

screamin I can make it
Got a body full of bullet holes layin here naked
Still I, can't breathe, somethings evil in my IV
Cause everytime I breathe, I think they killin me
I'm having nightmares, homicidal fantansies
I wake up stranglin, danglin my bed sheets
I call the nurse cause it hurts, to reminisce
How did it come to this? I wish they didn't miss
Somebody help me, tell me where to go from here
Cause even Thugs cry, but do the Lord care?
Try to remember, but it hurts
I'm walkin through the cemetary talkin to the, dirt
I'd rather die like a man, than live like a coward
There's a ghetto up in Heaven and it's ours, Black Power
is what we scream as we dream in a paranoid state
And our fate, is a lifetime of hate
Dear Mama, can you save me? And fuck peace
Cause the streets got our babies, we gotta eat
No more hesitation each and every black male's trapped
And they wonder why we suicidal runnin round strapped
Mista, Po-lice, please try to see that it's
a million motherfuckers stressin just like me
Only God can judge me

[Interlude: 2Pac]

That which does not kill me can only make me stronger
(That's for real)
and I don't see why everybody feel as though
that they gotta tell me how to live my life
(You know?)
Let me live baby, let me live

Red Paint

2008-06-25T02:41:00.000-07:00

"Red Paint"
The echoes sway back and forth inside my head and yet all I can hear are the soft slaps of the droplets of rain. I can no longer hear what was said and instead see your red lights driving away. I wanted to say the right thing but my lips now only let out the last soft breaths these ears will ever hear and somewhere lying inside the drenched darkness I stay watching the rain as the droplets drop onto my dying face. As my gut painfully paints the road red the pain inside my head slowly melts away and the echoes of your last words sway back and forth. But somewhere between the cool wetness on my face and the hard sting above my waist I find my calm. The pain of your life streams from my eyes as I realize why I died for you. I wanted to say the right thing; I wanted to say so many things but your eyes painted in red laid to rest all we had. The sharp cold gray stained of deep crimson now lies by your side to which it left me to lay eyes upward lost in the falling rain. I'm sorry I wanted to say but the pain of your life now paints red my eyes as I realize why I died for you.
-Armando Torres

The Death of Silence

2008-06-23T01:49:00.000-07:00

"The Death of Silence"
The midnight chirps of the crickets outside reminded him of the dark summer night that surrounded him. It’s in this darkness that he lays to hear the midnight sounds where he found the death of silence. The night swept in on a hot summer breeze and he was somehow perplexed by the idea of thought. Something outside the window pane began to move when the thoughts started to drip in. His eyes were wide as they darted around the room from one sound to the next as he tried to piece together the shapeless void that lay before him. What else was moving out there, he wondered? Was he alone? He didn’t know. The soft chirps of the crickets seemed more purposeful now as they had more meaning in their rhythm. Something was moving in his closet, he was sure of that. He could hear the soft steps of someone inside that door, the whispers slipped in through the slits and somehow he knew the voices would subside.

He had stacks of books piled in the corners, mounds of newspapers scattered on the floor, an over-used computer on a worn-out desk sitting next to his window that looked out to the street and sidewalk. He could hear people talking as they passed by, sometimes about their droll lives but sometimes about him. Somewhere mixed in with their pointless banter about their dead end jobs and cheating bitch wives he could hear pieces underneath their jabber like a chair showing through a covering blanket; certain words would stick out. Every third or fourth word contained something he had to write down, a message, a plan, something hidden and he had to find it.

His face showed the reality of age from worrying about the whispers planning something against him. His weary eyes had painted deep black recessions around themselves from the long nights he spent working on his computer. He wore an old blue moth-ball infested robe, long dark hair draped over the collar as it hung open loosely. Long nights he spent hunched over his keyboard typing away at his thoughts that seemed to peer over his shoulder from every dark sound that crept around his room at the moment. Something about the night quieted the loud voices and let the whispers be heard. He would listen and with every noise that seemed suspicious there his eyes would lay, red with wear over his shoulders and bugged out. Every blood vessel ready to erupt and bleed crimson tears and he wouldn’t care, he would let them fall where they may, to leave their blood stained path along his face. He didn’t care; he had no time to occupy with the appearance of his face. He would rarely see his face in the light anyway. The only mirror he had was a broken piece of shit in the bathroom. Broken from when the faces started to taunt him, when they started to haunt him.

His life consisted of nothing more than what his mind could conjure and as he stared into the dismal gray glow of his computer screen he realized the inevitability of his life. A soft creek crawled to his ears and his eyes darted over his shoulders where they would stare glazed over as if his eyes were the ones to hear the sounds. He wondered for a bit who would find him and came to the conclusion that it wouldn’t matter because after all, he would be gone. What could they do to him? He would show them that they couldn’t mess with him; he would beat them to the punch.

As he wandered about his small confined area he knew it had to be done. His head contained too much information for them to have; he had to leave or else it would be too dangerous to give them the opportunity to have it. Just then a banging on the door began, bang bang bang! It was them! He knew they would come. He had to hurry they wouldn’t give him much time. He ran to his computer and destroyed all his encrypted information he had gathered over the years. The banging got louder, he had to hurry! All the preparations had been made, he wouldn’t let them get him that easily. He was ready. He stepped onto a stool in front of his door as the banging became more violent and methodical. He stood there staring for a second as the door shook from the pounding it was receiving. The hinges on the door were ready to break off. Finally, he closed his eyes and took one last breath and realized he was ready. He tipped over his tiny stool and hung there for a moment. As his eyes faded to black the banging had stopped. Nothing was left but the sound of swaying rope being stretched tightly.
-Armando Torres

Dying by Emily Dickinson

2008-06-22T14:44:00.000-07:00

"Dying"

I heard a fly buzz when I died;
The stillness round my form
Was like the stillness in the air
Between the heaves of storm.

The eyes beside had wrung them dry,
And breaths were gathering sure
For that last onset, when the king
Be witnessed in his power.

I willed my keepsakes, signed away
What portion of me I
Could make assignable,-and then
There interposed a fly,

With blue, uncertain, stumbling buzz,
Between the light and me;
And then the windows failed, and then
I could not see to see.

-Emily Dickinson

My faintest image

2008-06-20T02:29:00.000-07:00

"My faintest image"
There you are in my faintest image, in the corner of my mind. There you are smiling back at me forever forgetting me and the life we were once supposed to have; nothing more than a ghostly image of memories. They haunt me so deep. I fight back my sorrow filled tears just to remember them. I want to say I miss you but I would be the only one to hear it. Though, there you are in my faintest image missing you and your smile, the touch of your lips against mine, the comfort of your arms around me. I miss you I do but I'll never say it. Everything we had in a life that once existed between you and I has fallen into the water; with every passing moment it sinks deeper further from me. I have fallen in too it feels. I watch you as I drown away into the infinite darkness fighting just to be remembered. I miss you I do, but I'll never say it. I will forever have your picture in my faintest image, haunting me, making me cry the tears that I should have shed so long ago. Now all that is left is the haunting echo of your sweet "I love you's."
-Armando Torres

My Cosmic Trip

2008-06-02T16:46:00.000-07:00

"My Cosmic Trip"
Something plays on the T.V. but I'm not watching. Its dull blues and greens are spat on my walls dripping to where the cool darkness watches from outside the window as the crickets play my elegy; I've gone. I see something else in the empty space before me. The gentle daze of night covers my eyes where I rise above the midnight clouds to fly with the moonlight; I exist in the endless cosmos and catch the passing wave to ride through the stars as the dogs howl in the distance, the moon bathes the grass in a deep blue and my eyes soak themselves inside it to which I then remember. The feeling washes over me and covers my every inch of existence where I fall ten million miles and crash back to my television.
-Armando Torres

To The Whore Who Took My Poems by Charles Bukowski

2008-05-23T17:18:00.000-07:00

"To The Whore Who Took My Poems"

some say we should keep personal remorse from the
poem,
stay abstract, and there is some reason in this,
but jezus;
twelve poems gone and I don't keep carbons and you have
my
paintings too, my best ones; its stifling:
are you trying to crush me out like the rest of them?
why didn't you take my money? they usually do
from the sleeping drunken pants sick in the corner.
next time take my left arm or a fifty
but not my poems:
I'm not Shakespeare
but sometime simply
there won't be any more, abstract or otherwise;
there'll always be mony and whores and drunkards
down to the last bomb,
but as God said,
crossing his legs,
I see where I have made plenty of poets
but not so very much
poetry.

-Charles Bukowski

A poem by William Carlos Williams

2008-05-23T17:11:00.000-07:00

As the cat
climbed over
the top of

the jamcloset
first the right
forefoot

carefully
then the hind
stepped down

into the pit of
the empty
flowerpot.

-- William Carlos Williams.

5/23/2008

2008-05-23T13:07:00.000-07:00

"5/23/2008"
It was 3:30am on the dot when I heard gun shots outside my window. A deep bass and crack from somewhere filled the silent night. I sat in my room wondering who was shot and if there was a dieing man at that very moment taking his last breaths. Violently gasping for air, gargling and choking on his own blood as it filled his throat. I heard police sirens in the distance and some more gunshots, so I knew there was a fire fight. What were they using? Shotguns, glocks, .357 magnums, they had to have been using something with a punch because after a couple of moments of silence a final deep drum like thud rushed into my ears and I knew it was over. I imagined that last shot to be a desperate man's escape from a justice system that would have locked him away forever. A shotgun to the head I imagined, leaving nothing but a bloody mess and a haunting image for whoever was unfortunate enough to witness it. After that last shot I could hear dogs howling in the distance, some barking in the wake of the chaos and some howling to the moon. What happened out there in that night? There must be a bloody crime scene out there waiting to be investigated, dead bodies lying on the ground in unnatural poses, brain chunks sprayed around sparatically, empty shells sprinkled over the ground, dead faces waiting to gaze deep into someone's subconscious. Whatever happened was no business of mine but that fear ran down my spine because I knew it could have easily become my business. Someone died that night and I heard the sounds of that death. A double barrel grinding against his teeth and then click, nothing left but a disturbing image ready to keep me awake at night. For me the night rushed back as soon as silence filled the air but out there, the night had just begun.
-Armando Torres

Malevolence

2008-05-20T16:41:00.000-07:00

“Malevolence”
In the darkness that lingers around us all there exists something that tells us, tempts us, chooses us, and crushes us inside a paradox of sweetest things. He knows when you think of him and pounces all at once to where ever welcomes him. He sits in your room looming ever closer as your mind wanders towards him. Knowing the very moment to engulf your reality, overwhelming your eyes in horrors you never wanted to see. Granted all you know has some truth for there would be your proof to believe because in all that was misleading in his words there would be a base to fake his truths to you. But as your strength falters nothing you knew would hold true when the temptations overwhelm you. You would never know you gave in so long ago. Beginning your own demise in your eyes of a few moments before you so blindly gave away all that was of worth. His words have burned through your soul tearing apart your mind leaving the shell of a man, lifeless and hallow. A man who will never understand all he wanted to know. A man in eternal damnation burning in the fires of misery never knowing the lies were the only truths he realized.
-Armando Torres

Those ominous gray Clouds

2008-05-20T16:26:00.000-07:00

"Those ominous gray Clouds"
I chased you, ran after you, followed you but I couldn't keep up. I lost you and there I stood under those ominous gray clouds looking up teasing me to give up but everytime I gazed above I could see your face only a distance away. So I ran, I ran until the air in my throat burned and my lungs pushed out against my chest, until the very tissue of my muscles tore away and my legs collapsed; there to lay under those ominous gray clouds with sweat dripping from every pore. I stood with the fire burning in my legs as they begged for no more but I couldn't stop. I saw nothing ahead of me and nothing behind but I continued to try and find you. But here I now lay eyes upward toward those gray ominous clouds watching for your face and I see it only a distance away. I lay here a tattered tired man who has given up running and has found you only a distance away.
-Armando Torres

The Dead Night

2008-05-17T02:54:00.000-07:00

Here is my piece that was a finalist in the Wordclay writing contest. I have posted this on my other blog; After Dinner Mint but I thought I should share it here as well.

"The Dead Night"

There I sit in the quiet darkness of it all wondering how it came to this; hearing the tiny chirps of the crickets outside the window seal and the soft midnight breeze brush against the leaves. Nothing is left but the calmness of the night; the dead calm of it all. The night sky sitting above watching, with thousands of eyes, the things we do to satisfy that moment of urge. There I sit in silent darkness with my witness above and my eyes below; there I sit to wonder how it came to this. I sit with my head hung low inside my chair whose squeaks are the only other noise to slice the dead silence of this night. I rock my chair this night like never before and for the first time, I can hear the silence of black, the calmness of night; I can feel the cold chill of darkness. Drip dripping the cold blood on my hands; trickling to the floor staining a deep red. Drip dripping the cold blood not of my own. Drip dripping this silence of night off my hands. I stare with my head hung low by the window seal at the dead calm of it all. I sit in darkness wondering how it came to this but realize the silence of my answer. Nothing is left but the calmness of this night.

-Armando Torres

Devolutionist

2008-05-17T02:32:00.000-07:00

I entered the Wordclay seasonal writing contest for poetry and was one of 100 finalists chosen. I, along with all the finalists and the winner were included in the Best Modern Voices: A Poetry Anthology. I just thought I would share one of the poems I liked from the anthology, this one was the runner up. It's a very well constructed piece and resonates far after you've finished reading.

"Devolutionist"
I used to be an ocean vast and filled with life. I could account

for everything, for I'd been there for all time. I used to stretch

for miles; I used to take up all the earth. I used to be everyone's

everything; you'll just have to take my word for it.

I used to be a great lake. I used to be the biggest one. I was the

womb from which the moon was birthed when the sun had finally

gone. I used to glitter all the time, rain or shine, and day or night.

I was the place you brought your girl to ask her hand in marriage.
You used to contemplate your days at my water's edge.

Then I turned into a pond perfect to sail upon. The best of friends

spent many times together, fishing and laughing until the day was

done. I used to be the spot you watched fireworks burst on the

fourth of July. And I froze up in December when you learned your

best friend had died. I even used to hug the ground where your

family dog now lays.

And then I was a river, quickly flowing over time. I used to carve

sharp rocks into perfect skipping stones. I used to breathe a

constant pace. I used to carry my own beat. You used to come to

me just to wash your dirty feet. We watched the stars together; we

used to spill the same amount of tears. I watched you bloom and

grow; together we shared the best of years.

But now I am a creek, under a bridge somewhere unknown. Time

has shrunk me down, and I am here to rest alone. Some days are

better than some others; my water flows and then dries up. It

would help to have some company; it would help to have my friend.

But I just don't really know when I'll ever see her again.

-Daniel Bristol

those Glowing eyes

2008-05-15T15:08:00.000-07:00

"those Glowing eyes"
I sit and write my very last words; for these words have come on their own accord to describe the hidden horror that surrounds me this very moment. I cannot escape anymore for the darkness surrounds me all around. The voices whisper deep as my eyes bleed those invisible tears that burn away any hope of sleep. The voices tell me the darkest thoughts of night singeing my mind and burning deep to where all exists as a distant memory. It says nothing less in a cesspool of lonesome questions and there I see those glowing eyes. They burn with red inside my head for those eyes live to haunt me this night. The darkness of black drips on the walls and the silent moans of the wind creep in; the trees whisp back and forth outside and the howls of lurking creatures are heard in the distance. The suffocating night makes louder the sounds as the soft gloom of the moon hides behind dense black clouds, tis all for the hidden horrors to find their way back. I wait for the chirps of singing birds and the morning chill of day but my eyes are blurred in this cold stillness of gray. It says nothing less as I see those glowing eyes, for the darkness has me deceived that I cannot leave. I hope for something more but see only those glowing eyes. I wait for something more but see my haunting lies.
-Armando Torres

The Genius Of The Crowd by Charles Bukowski

2008-05-14T15:03:00.000-07:00

"The Genius Of The Crowd"

there is enough treachery, hatred violence absurdity in the average
human being to supply any given army on any given day

and the best at murder are those who preach against it
and the best at hate are those who preach love
and the best at war finally are those who preach peace

those who preach god, need god
those who preach peace do not have peace
those who preach peace do not have love

beware the preachers
beware the knowers
beware those who are always reading books
beware those who either detest poverty
or are proud of it
beware those quick to praise
for they need praise in return
beware those who are quick to censor
they are afraid of what they do not know
beware those who seek constant crowds for
they are nothing alone
beware the average man the average woman
beware their love, their love is average
seeks average

but there is genius in their hatred
there is enough genius in their hatred to kill you
to kill anybody
not wanting solitude
not understanding solitude
they will attempt to destroy anything
that differs from their own
not being able to create art
they will not understand art
they will consider their failure as creators
only as a failure of the world
not being able to love fully
they will believe your love incomplete
and then they will hate you
and their hatred will be perfect

like a shining diamond
like a knife
like a mountain
like a tiger
like hemlock
their finest art

-Charles Bukowski

That Blue Glow

2008-05-14T03:40:00.000-07:00

"That Blue Glow"
He sits by the window, moonlight dripping on his face from the soft blue glow resonating from the crescent moon. He plays his guitar as the world sleeps and cries for those who do not weep. She wipes the tears from his face in elegance and glides to his window; she glances to the crescent moon to smile for those who cannot. He drips his tears onto his strings and sings their song as she can only smile into his eyes. Her haunting blue eyes hide the melancholy of her smile and his tears show the joy of his music. The softness of the night is hardened as the extravagent blue glow drops into the horizon. The night becomes a little more quiet and somber as the music and smiles are lost in the sea of darkness that washes over the world, a little more quiet and alone.
-Armando Torres

Red Wine

2008-05-14T02:50:00.000-07:00

"Red Wine"
I poured you my finest red wine as your eyes pierced deep into my soul and we sat there among the candle lit flames. Your lips glistened in the gloom as the deep red of your lipstick burned inside my every lustful thought and we kissed.

As your soft lips caress mine I lose myself inside my closed eyes. Strong shivers run up and down my spine as our lips begin pressing in mounting passion. The night lay silent leaving only our long deep breaths and the soft sounds of our skin sliding against each other to break its stillness. The wine sits still inside its glass and the candles burn slowly; the house lay quiet except for our moving bodies slowly moving inside the candle fire casting our shadowy shapes onto the walls. In the midst of our ballet of lust you ignore the ringing of your phone; we can't hear anything but the next deep breath we take. Nothing exists for us except the next deep thrust as the phone keeps ringing. On its display it reads 'husband' as our bodies keep moving under the candle fire. We ignore as our shadows cast our lust on the walls and floor. As the mounting pressure, ring! of every moment, ring! piles on, ring! my eyes close tight and the uncontrollable shiver of pleasure shakes me to my spine. I lose myself everytime and this time I lost myself again. I lose myself inside you and this time I lost myself again.
-Armando Torres

Too Hard

2008-05-14T00:00:00.000-07:00

"Too Hard"
Its too hard sitting outside with the sun overhead with it so bright my eyes cannot comprehend. The warm sting of its rays blankets my face as I look up into that yellow ball of flame. Today is warm like yesterday, I can't remember it but I know it; today is warm like yesterday. The sun is overhead with the hot sounds of heat making their way to my ears, the sweat drips from my brow and I imagine tomorrow to be like this. Its too hard to see the clear blue sky and the warm green grass, too hard to feel anything but the hot sting of the sun. All I feel is the burning concrete ground against my feet and the thick hot air wandering in front of my face. Thick heat waves rise from the ground, my nostrils fill with hot air and it seems I can't get away. I run to the cool escape of the sprinklers trying to elude the summer dread but its too hard to escape. Too hard to feel anything but the hot sting of the sun overhead.
-Armando Torres

Cool drops of Water

2008-05-13T15:34:00.001-07:00

"Cool drops of Water"
It’s that time of year again and I fight not to remember. But the December white brings oh so much and the cold grey that lingers above seems only to accompany that memory. That unnerving pressure behind these sad eyes is present again but never do I let that tear remember you. I look out at the blankness of it all; it lets me remember, lets me fill the space with whatever I want and the one piece of my life I’d rather leave behind is the only thing I can see in this vast white canvas. Swallowing the knots in my throat seems like tradition this time of year just like the big boulders of every shade of grey the kids make. I just linger away and disappear into the seemingly endless cold and fight that one tear that cries out but I will never let it remember you. Anxious for the moment when it all starts to melt away, waiting for those warm rays to touch this vast white blanket that has overlaid itself on me. Watching as those drops of cool relief drip away this white December. I look out at the warm yellows and reds from over the horizon and feel the cool water droplets of my winter stream down my face. I remember you, so goodbye finally.
-Armando Torres

In a moment

2008-05-13T14:02:00.000-07:00

"In a moment"
Oh so softly touching your sweet skin; there's something in the way you move, in the way your curves play to my most primal desires. Feeling our skin touch, wanting my hips to fit in between your legs and my lips to brush up against yours. There's something in the way we move, in the way our bodies play to our most lustful desires. I can feel the warmth of your breath upon my lips and it uncages those carnal cravings I had locked away until this moment, where I'm rubbing up against you this moment, touching you, feeling you, locked until this moment. Forbidden until this moment, wanting you, lost in you. Watching your eyes glow in the soft light that blankets us, looking deep into mine; feeling complete trust in those eyes I lose my most sound reason inside you in a moment. Feeling you in that moment, loving you in that moment.
-Armando Torres

Pray

2008-05-13T13:59:00.000-07:00

"Pray"
Awake again in the middle of the night with the soft glow of the television spattered on her face. Dark rings have found a home around her weary eyes and the droopy bags under them are just another reminder of her dreary life. Sitting alone in the dark trying to sleep she searches for the strength to keep hoping life will get better. Wrapped in one of her few ragged blankets as she tries to fight the chill that creeps into her small apartment every night, she prays. Her tired eyes finally find that slice of sleep she's been waiting for and a familiar image waiting in that darkness re-opens them and she cries. Staring down so low the salty reminders stream down her tired face and she remembers. She remembers the way she felt when she held her in her arms, the look of her tiny face and her tiny mouth. She remembers again and stays awake watching the dismal glow of the television screen. She couldn't do anything about what happened, there was nothing she could do when she had nothing. No money, no insurance, no friends, no family. She did all she could with all she had. She prayed everyday as she watched her baby die. She prayed everyday.
-Armando Torres

Last Thought

2008-05-13T13:54:00.000-07:00

"Last Thought"
Silently sitting inside that chair staring blankly into the blue glow of the television burning against the backdrop of darkness. Specks of color are splashed on his gray unmovable face. The blues and reds and greens dance on his empty walls and he just stares blankly into the dim glow of the television set. He pictures himself hanging from the ceiling and wonders what his last thought would be.

A meaningless thought forever trapped in that one moment, no where to go but into the endless abyss awaiting all that he is. That last thought forever telling him in a moment, you will never forget. Like that last conscious moment before the veil of darkness drips over your mind and you drift to sleep. A meaningless moment forever existing.

Stepping up on that chair he slides his head through the loop; just like falling to sleep he whispers. Looking to the television set, he knocks over his goodbye and a flash of better days appears before his eyes and a hint of regret streams down his face as everything fades to black.
-Armando Torres

The Knife of Love

2008-05-13T13:49:00.000-07:00

"The Knife of Love"
Carefully slicing away tender tissue, ripping apart muscle and cutting pass bone until the tip finally reaches the one place this knife should never be. As the blood flows out of your body and the tears in your eyes roll down your cheeks, the knife carefully cuts and makes your heart in two. The final piece of warm flesh and tissue holding it as one rips apart; your eyes glaze over, your warm tears turn cold as ice and your blood dies at it touches the air. Your mouth stays slightly open as if to say something it once said but now will never say again. The thought of it dies in your mind and behind your eyes where it once lived no longer can it be seen because your eyes have glazed over with dead pain. Those three precious words that meant so much to you and I no longer have meaning. They were weapons of deception but sweet deception to the bitter end. I would have loved you through anything and beyond any limit that you could have imagined but now that knife has killed you and you can never come back.
-Armando Torres