Cross My Heart and Hope to Write


Saturday, April 21, 2012

UPDATE: Death By Active Movement, A Place So Dark And Cold, and Self Portrait

    When I was 11-years-old, I envisioned someday having a band. The name of that band would be "Death By Active Movement" (D.B.A.M.), which some of my friends at the time pronounced "Da-Bam!" The idea was that we are continuously dying in every moment (perhaps this has something to do with my future fascination with death...). I began a project of working on songs for the first two albums of said imaginary future band, the first being called "Images Withdrawn From Blindness" and the second "A Portrait's Depiction Of Nothing". In hindsight, I realize the silliness of such aspirations, but, hey! I'm a silly guy!
    As I was oft to do in my childhood, I began to idolize the concept of D.B.A.M., eventually growing it into an entire mythos, chronicled on a now defunct webpage (which I have spent many Google romps attempting to rediscover). The webpage included a rather lengthy story - about a post-apocalyptic super-computer that powered an army of mechanical harvesters that gathered wandering herds of surviving humans and used them as fuel, while a very special little girl attempted to infiltrate and destroy the computer, thus regaining humanity (how this was at all connected to the concept of the name is beyond me) - covering the various characters, locations, and symbols (oh, those symbols of mine!) of the story. The exact details about the story are lost to me now, but I remember something about a card game (from which the symbol for this blog likely originated from), the "national color" being black or red, and the "national symbol" being an eight-ball. Man, I was a weird child!
    Though this band idea never really died out (I am currently working with some friends to make it a reality) and took on several other forms (as will likely be included here in a later post), some other things were birthed from its mythos, such as the mural I've included a few pictures of below. I apparently drew it on the wall in pencil behind my bed around the same time. I completely forgot about it until I found it behind my dresser while reorganizing my bedroom not too long ago. I've also included two "singles" from the two albums I thought up for the band, "A Place So Dark And Cold" from the first album and "Self Portrait" from the second. I hope you enjoy the lyrics. Maybe one day they actually will become singles... but I won't keep my fingers crossed.  

The mural is meant to look like a hole has been broken in the wall, revealing a little girl in a pink dress and bow standing on a ledge with her back turned to us. Her teddybear lies at her side. Scattered around her is a thorn bush, a pile of disemboweled books, and a huge block of melting ice. In the sky is a blazing eye where the sun is supposed to be.

A Place So Dark And Cold

As the inhabitants of this
Faceless existence
Wander aimlessly down darkened paths
I can't help but wonder if I'm really here
Or are these demons inside me just showing their wrath

Are they blinding my eyes from
The truth and despair
Or are they merely protecting me from

All the things that are evil
And ugly
And shameful
And all the things that have yet to come

Oh woah, oh woah, oh woah!

Why can't I deny you?
Why can't I define you?
Why can't I deceive you?
Why can't I please you?

My hunger for a place that is mine
(Place that is mine)
Is killing me slowly
It's awfully lonely
My chest it is dark and its hollow
It's getting harder to swallow
Help me!
I think I'm starting to suffer
Heading for somber
How long?
How long until the poison has
Entered my veins,
Ending my pain?

As I walk on in this
Faithless illusion
I'm forced to admit to the fact that I'm gone

My life, it is over
I'm finally sober
I cannot deny
That the demons have won

Oh woah, oh woah, oh woah!

Why can't I deny you?
Why can't I defy you?
Why can't I receive you?
Why can't I please you?


It's ending my pain (x3)
The blood in my veins
The thoughts in my brain
Leaving dark stains
They bludgeon
They maim


Self Portrait

This is my self portrait
(Painting my life and self)
I'm not worth it
(My face trapped within pastels)
I deserve this
(The words that pour from my mouth)
They're not worthy
Of virgin ears
I just let them fall out

I see these faces
Can I erase them?
I'm going to have to
Paint them all away, paint them all away!
I see my faintness
May I disgrace it?
I'm going to have to
Paint it all away!
What is the point of me?

Seeing all of my dreams drift apart
Killing all that I used to love
Wanting all of this pain to depart
I'm painting a portrait
Of my broken heart!

This is my disservice
(Hurting all that is in me)
I don't deserve it
(Blinding all that I see)
Abandoning the purpose
(This shit brings me to my knees)
I will dismiss
From this life
Please, God, save me!

I see the places
Can I replace them?
I'm going to have to
Paint them all away, paint them all away!
I see defacement
Inside the quaintness
I'm going to have to
Paint it all away!
What died inside of me?


This broken heart
(Beats inside my chest!)
This broken heart
(The pain within will infest!)
My broken heart
Screams with the sounds of all the things I've lost
Inside of me
All the things I cannot see!


My broken heart... (Fades)

I have chosen Death By Active Movement as the official title of my first book. You can order your copy by following the link above.

Saturday, April 14, 2012

Art and Paperclips Are For Bending

So, it has been some time since I included some art on the blog. Thus, I thought it pertinent to do so. Once again, you will notice the continuous use of the heart symbol mentioned elsewhere. Let me know your thoughts on these in the comments section:

Here is a rather primitive version of the polygonal heart symbol I use often. It is distorted as if swollen with "LOVE" within.

Here we have a more classic version of the symbol, rigged up with tubes and devices that make it seem like some kind of machine. Below, we have a detail of the sketch.
Again, the heart symbol here appears with a bullet home in the center and a smattering of blood that makes it seem like it were pinned to the wall. 

We have here two praying hands held together with nails, sutures, pins, and stitches. It meant to draw criticism to the "obligation" of prayer, as it we have no choice. (I must admit, however, my fondness of prayer). 

I have several versions of this figure, which I will most certainly include in the future. This was the first version I drew. They are very emaciated in appearance and evoke various "senses". This one rings of sadness.

Here we have a withered tree with the last of its fruit expunged, laying in a pool of blood at its foot with a drip suspended in air. This piece is unique because I usually do not sketch in pen (due to my many mistakes), but this one came out wonderfully. Above, we have a close up of the apple.

This is an example of my more surreal pieces. We have a ball of yarn shining like the sun with an unravelled string hanging down and forming a noose. In the center of the noose is a tear drop, with the paradoxical words "HeeD The Silence" labeling the piece.

Here, the peace sign has grown to include three protruding blades, each stained with blood. It meant to evoke the fact that many have fought and died for the attainment of peace, a rather silly fact if you ask me.

To conclude this blog post, I've added a rather old poem of mine, "Paperclips Are For Bending". As with many of my pieces, the title does not fit the poem itself. Once more, the style resembles a run-on sentence, moving from one though to another. I hope you have enjoyed the post, and please feel free to send me an email or leave a comment with your thoughts.

Paperclips Are For Bending

Crush the chalk between your hands, 
So you can trace the accident
Profoundly blind 
Is that all you wish to see?
All is beyond your comprehension 
Am I too much for your soul's discretion? 
Let me take the fall
Crayons on the wall 
For these balls have been broken 
And its time I bent these bones
The bars are breaking
And I let it go
Wigs for the wearing 
Pigs for the caring 
Bread for the sharing of poisoned mead
Dead from Death's commitment 
For the one to shape the sides of this barrel 
Shoot off a round in my direction 
So I can catch some sight of death
Evade the breath
Invade the breasts for hibernating 
Call to me
Call me out 
Take me down
Or drag me around 
Ribbons choke the childish throat 
A goat who milked its soul dry 
Pry, try 
I beg for you to lie 
Disregard the only thing I have left 
Charter a cart for the cancer 
Or a fart for the zephyr 
Heftier, for the better 
Butter me up
Prism built from the fission
Make clearer this vision
I can't seem to reveal 
Feel you floating farther 
Further from the one thing left that's real
refract the light that's growing dimmer in me
This seed
Feed or bleed
Is blood the love I longed for
Or need?
Want in me
One for the lost 
One for the lonesome, too
The last is for what I love 
And that one isn't you
I felt some sorrow
But I borrowed it from the truth 
Cruel for the cold relief 
A relic left on the wall of my mind
Set there by a hand 
A hand I kissed, but never will again
The solemn vow 
The crusted crown I don for you
And no one else 
I try to answer
But Death's sight caught the bullet for me 
Because I shaped the barrel 
Bent the corners inward
All for you
Go on
Rub the chalk around your linger tips 
And trace the line around my body 
Around where I fell
For you 

Oh, and one more thing: I have recently taken up a new project. Some of you may have heard of diptics or tryptics, two or three pieces of art or photographs meant to be viewed together. Well, this is a similar notion, something I'm calling a "Sextic". It consists of six painting that can be viewed separately as individual pieces, each uniquely designed. However, when brought together and arranged precisely, they form a whole image. I have included a preview of the project (which should take a significant amount of time) below. I hope you're all as excited as I am.     

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Haiku and Senryu

I have officially updated "The Hearts Series" with some new photos, some of which come courtesy of some friends (I'm loving the enthusiasm). Which got me to thinking... maybe this can become a joint effort between myself and others. So, consider this an invitation: If you stumble upon any heart images in your wayward travels, feel free to send them to me at with your name (first name or moniker), age, region, and a little bit about the photo. I can't wait to see what you guys have for me! I will place your photos here, on the blog, as well as on the Facebook page. Don't hesitate to send me anything you feel is heart-esque.

Anyway, I was recently made aware of a contest being hosted by yet another local poetry organization. The Performance Poets Association is currently hosting their third annual haiku contest for residents of Long Island and Queens. Though haikus are not something I wrote often, a group of friends and I have been carrying on a haiku battle for just about a year now, so this contest comes as sort of an omen. I like the simplicity of haiku, (which generally refers to short poems of seventeen syllables about nature) though mine usually take the form of senryu (which is generally used to refer to those about human nature). Considering most of the images in "The Hearts Series" are of natural phenomena, and to commemorate this contest, I have included a few of my haikus and senryus below. Let me know what you think of them and maybe I'll draft you for the haiku battle. Enjoy!

Dry, empty cocoon
lies withered on the concrete:
New life is naked. 

Running water coos,
Like the child in my arms.
I hold him under. 

A glossy seashell
washes up on the shoreline:   
An abandoned house.

I probe the hole with
my finger; cold crimson walls.
The gun is still warm.

He slid his gentle 

finger across her lips, "Please,

Don't say, 'I love you.'"

Tear rolls down my cheek.
Dry eye blinks, quite perplexed.
Rain from skies above. 

Love will set you free,
if you believe in yourself

and the love you have.

Smooth, sexual skin,
perfect, erotic, a tease:
God damn I look good!

She wanted something

beautiful for Christmas:

She got a mirror.