<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076</id><updated>2011-08-01T15:05:12.693-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I wish I could learn to spell like a grown-up someday</title><subtitle type='html'>Rough drafts of poetry</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>153</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-69440830562691469</id><published>2011-06-15T19:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-15T19:57:42.790-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>the only thing that could make this night better is if i was getting laid. otherwise, perfect day, perfect night, let no pucks escape their sight, beware their power, the bruin's MIGHT.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-69440830562691469?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/69440830562691469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2011/06/only-thing-that-could-make-this-night.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/69440830562691469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/69440830562691469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2011/06/only-thing-that-could-make-this-night.html' title=''/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-3722720654324179326</id><published>2011-05-24T09:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-24T10:05:05.988-07:00</updated><title type='text'>four haiku from california</title><content type='html'>The hairs on the back &lt;br /&gt;of my neck raise like the heads&lt;br /&gt;of praying masses&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the desert still feels&lt;br /&gt;like the loving embrace of&lt;br /&gt;cacti, snakes, and you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the sand and your hair&lt;br /&gt;end up lasting longer than&lt;br /&gt;our time together&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(quote from my buddy jaeger)&lt;br /&gt;"That crow carries your&lt;br /&gt;soul." watch it struggle in&lt;br /&gt;the mojavie's breath&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-3722720654324179326?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/3722720654324179326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2011/05/four-haiku-from-california.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/3722720654324179326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/3722720654324179326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2011/05/four-haiku-from-california.html' title='four haiku from california'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-3879049258262402383</id><published>2011-05-24T09:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-24T09:56:27.077-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>You look like a sleeping city right before sunrise&lt;br /&gt;A hundred thousand lovers slowly waking in each others arms&lt;br /&gt;the sultry smile, the first kiss of the day&lt;br /&gt;we rise like sunday morning. slow. restful.&lt;br /&gt;the smell of flowers and vanilla linger on your skin&lt;br /&gt;when we let water touch our soil bodies&lt;br /&gt;the light of the morning smiles&lt;br /&gt;you are always this beautiful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-3879049258262402383?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/3879049258262402383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2011/05/you-look-like-sleeping-city-right.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/3879049258262402383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/3879049258262402383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2011/05/you-look-like-sleeping-city-right.html' title=''/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-3135950495367375576</id><published>2011-04-04T09:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-04T11:04:50.854-07:00</updated><title type='text'>2/30</title><content type='html'>Modern Day Phaeton Speaks to Apollo &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yo, dad!&lt;br /&gt;the kids at school keep saying you arn't my real dad&lt;br /&gt;and moms a slut, and i'm a bitch and i beat up a kid...&lt;br /&gt;so mom got mad.&lt;br /&gt;when i told them what they said, i heard her call you&lt;br /&gt;and then she sent me to your house&lt;br /&gt;but it's morning, and you're not home&lt;br /&gt;i know i know, work...&lt;br /&gt;but like... dad&lt;br /&gt;I want to prove i am your son.&lt;br /&gt;and last i heard maury povich only cared about parents who have doubts not their children&lt;br /&gt;nor do i think he could get you to make a public appearence&lt;br /&gt;i mean, it's been a few years.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-3135950495367375576?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/3135950495367375576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2011/04/230.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/3135950495367375576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/3135950495367375576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2011/04/230.html' title='2/30'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-1723620869614230994</id><published>2011-04-04T08:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-04T09:49:48.631-07:00</updated><title type='text'>1/30</title><content type='html'>if i am ever in a hospital bed, i will demand less comfort. &lt;br /&gt;let the pain keep me awake.&lt;br /&gt;dull it to a kitchen knife so it's bearable&lt;br /&gt;but let it hurt me to sleep&lt;br /&gt;let my bed be one of those cots&lt;br /&gt;from the first great war&lt;br /&gt;so i wont look small&lt;br /&gt;I am not the kind of man to sink into mattresses&lt;br /&gt;looking small and lost within sheets and pillows&lt;br /&gt;i should look as i do standing&lt;br /&gt;not quite tall, but not short&lt;br /&gt;proud&lt;br /&gt;with shoulders that show how much weight i have carried&lt;br /&gt;hospital beds... are too comforting and too distant&lt;br /&gt;i want to be next to my loved ones&lt;br /&gt;leave out the rails&lt;br /&gt;i'll behave (mostly)&lt;br /&gt;and stay put like you tell me too&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i just want to have them hold me when they say goodbye&lt;br /&gt;without a distance separating us&lt;br /&gt;death comes by inches&lt;br /&gt;and when it comes for me&lt;br /&gt;she'll find none to fit between us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-1723620869614230994?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/1723620869614230994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2011/04/130.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/1723620869614230994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/1723620869614230994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2011/04/130.html' title='1/30'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-189365489563224845</id><published>2011-01-20T06:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-20T07:06:01.915-08:00</updated><title type='text'>apology</title><content type='html'>it's like the time i was climbing to a cliff with my step dad&lt;br /&gt;when i was young i would speak without thinking&lt;br /&gt;feeling awkward&lt;br /&gt;i started the day saying something&lt;br /&gt;i dont remember what...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm not exactly old&lt;br /&gt;hell i'm barely adult&lt;br /&gt;more child than i'd care to admit&lt;br /&gt;i still speak without thinking&lt;br /&gt;the awkwardness is worse now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've always been offensive&lt;br /&gt;normally it's all joking&lt;br /&gt;this is because when i want to offend&lt;br /&gt;i want you to take it as a joke&lt;br /&gt;no, i dont want to offend&lt;br /&gt;i'm just offensive&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;not defensive&lt;br /&gt;because the best defense&lt;br /&gt;is a good offense&lt;br /&gt;i'm so offensive&lt;br /&gt;nothing could slip past me anyway&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm cocky&lt;br /&gt;i think it only takes a second to know me&lt;br /&gt;i think i wear everything on my face&lt;br /&gt;my past&lt;br /&gt;my present&lt;br /&gt;my future&lt;br /&gt;cant you just look at my face and see it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm wrong of course&lt;br /&gt;i'm wrong a lot&lt;br /&gt;like when i was climbing to a cliff&lt;br /&gt;if i had been taller&lt;br /&gt;it would've been hiking&lt;br /&gt;but i was young&lt;br /&gt;it was climbing a mountain&lt;br /&gt;there was a rope to hold onto&lt;br /&gt;we climbed for what seemed like eternity&lt;br /&gt;in silence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we ate sandwiches and chips and grapes&lt;br /&gt;at the top&lt;br /&gt;staring into beauty&lt;br /&gt;in silence&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we inhaled&lt;br /&gt;he told me a story i dont remember&lt;br /&gt;then we took a picture&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;remembering it is like a silent movie&lt;br /&gt;i fill in the audio myself&lt;br /&gt;things i wish i had said&lt;br /&gt;things i should've asked&lt;br /&gt;just to get perspective&lt;br /&gt;just to know more&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just to remember with another sense than my eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you, you i remember with more than just my eyes&lt;br /&gt;i opened you up with my offense &lt;br /&gt;tore down your walls &lt;br /&gt;jumped off the cliff of decency&lt;br /&gt;left us feeling&lt;br /&gt;awkward&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so now i'm climbing back up the mountain&lt;br /&gt;i'm small, it's large&lt;br /&gt;i dont know if i'll make it&lt;br /&gt;i'll just climb&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-189365489563224845?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/189365489563224845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2011/01/apology.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/189365489563224845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/189365489563224845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2011/01/apology.html' title='apology'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-54730484368010385</id><published>2011-01-20T06:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-20T06:58:13.262-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i drown&lt;br /&gt;reaching out to a life preserver&lt;br /&gt;knowing it's just going to sink with me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am an anchor&lt;br /&gt;stuck in a rock&lt;br /&gt;pull me up.&lt;br /&gt;pull me back on board&lt;br /&gt;so your ship can sail&lt;br /&gt;dont let me pull you down&lt;br /&gt;held to the same spot&lt;br /&gt;while the currents flow around you&lt;br /&gt;as the tide goes out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dont let me ground you&lt;br /&gt;sail on&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-54730484368010385?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/54730484368010385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2011/01/i-drown-reaching-out-to-life-preserver.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/54730484368010385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/54730484368010385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2011/01/i-drown-reaching-out-to-life-preserver.html' title=''/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-5632402265535819025</id><published>2010-07-25T11:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-25T11:39:17.572-07:00</updated><title type='text'>backup man</title><content type='html'>i want to be your reserve force&lt;br /&gt;that extra push of strength&lt;br /&gt;the reinforcements&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i do it for my country&lt;br /&gt;which honestly i don't like all the time&lt;br /&gt;and will for another seven years&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why not be your backup plan&lt;br /&gt;for when the first one fails&lt;br /&gt;i'm always available&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my job is to be constantly ready, to jump in at any moment&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i cant think of anything more rewarding.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-5632402265535819025?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/5632402265535819025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2010/07/backup-man.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/5632402265535819025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/5632402265535819025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2010/07/backup-man.html' title='backup man'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-7202335257110244520</id><published>2010-07-11T21:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-25T11:38:04.617-07:00</updated><title type='text'>kid in manchester</title><content type='html'>i wish i was the prepubecent boy wearing UFC gloves and a mouthguard at midnight&lt;br /&gt;tasting my own blood&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-7202335257110244520?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/7202335257110244520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2010/07/kid-in-manchester.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/7202335257110244520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/7202335257110244520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2010/07/kid-in-manchester.html' title='kid in manchester'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-851000603407494174</id><published>2010-06-25T23:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-26T00:12:36.869-07:00</updated><title type='text'>american Q explains a flash-grenade teleportation device</title><content type='html'>In this day and age you can't just pop smoke and disappear my young man. with NVG and thermal vision it just doesn't work anymore to simply distract the eye and run to get out of a sticky situation. Now you've heard of flash-bangs of course, well we have invented the Flash-port. With this device merely focus your built in computer to a precise location and throw the grenade. It's light will burn the retinas of anyone staring at it so they become blind along with dissembling your molecular structure outwards in a small sphere then shooting them through space into your desired location where they will constrict back together to form you again. Think of it as one of those star-balls you got as a kid. it grows and separates into a ball that can bounce, but then comes back together forming it's original shape.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-851000603407494174?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/851000603407494174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2010/06/american-q-explains-flash-grenade.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/851000603407494174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/851000603407494174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2010/06/american-q-explains-flash-grenade.html' title='american Q explains a flash-grenade teleportation device'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-2949135117079912403</id><published>2010-06-24T08:47:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-24T19:58:29.942-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a nice line...</title><content type='html'>when you find that one step above me i'll smile as i send you on your way to something far sweeter than my lips and my heart&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-2949135117079912403?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/2949135117079912403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2010/06/nice-line.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/2949135117079912403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/2949135117079912403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2010/06/nice-line.html' title='a nice line...'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-166571673818119202</id><published>2010-04-25T00:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-25T01:00:18.478-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>our hearts are like wires pumping electricity out of muscle making blood flow from point a to point b where i see you sitting there without a care knowing you caught my stare yet not shying away or lashing out you just sit there, slight pout, looking about like a bird looks at bread you drop on the ground without a sound knowing every, pound, of bird that eats the bread will feed the cat lead to where little birdy sleeps at.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes when i fall asleep thinking about you&lt;br /&gt;i wake up reaching for something that isnt there&lt;br /&gt;my bed feels neglected because i have not really slept&lt;br /&gt;i've just passed time there&lt;br /&gt;waiting for you&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-166571673818119202?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/166571673818119202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2010/04/our-hearts-are-like-wires-pumping.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/166571673818119202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/166571673818119202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2010/04/our-hearts-are-like-wires-pumping.html' title=''/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-3459898089297604383</id><published>2010-04-24T08:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-24T08:23:51.114-07:00</updated><title type='text'>what the fuck did i just write?</title><content type='html'>i like to drink energy drinks alone&lt;br /&gt;closest thing i have to alcohol&lt;br /&gt;i sip down thier flavor&lt;br /&gt;an aquired taste&lt;br /&gt;let it fizzle on the tounge&lt;br /&gt;staring to the sky&lt;br /&gt;wondering...&lt;br /&gt;wondering...&lt;br /&gt;wondering why i'm smoking another ciggarette&lt;br /&gt;i wish the smell of cowboy killers and cloves&lt;br /&gt;could be put into a perfume&lt;br /&gt;i want the world to smell like tobacco&lt;br /&gt;unsmoked&lt;br /&gt;sometimes i keep a ciggarette in my lips as i go to sleep&lt;br /&gt;just to have that smell&lt;br /&gt;no smoke at all&lt;br /&gt;let my heartrate fall&lt;br /&gt;its beating a mile a minuet&lt;br /&gt;and i know it wont last long&lt;br /&gt;i'm good out the gate&lt;br /&gt;but unless i catch a good stride&lt;br /&gt;i'm fatal before i finish&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes i drink 5 energy drinks a day&lt;br /&gt;to go with at least a gallon of water&lt;br /&gt;i wish i had a calorie counter&lt;br /&gt;but i think she'd have a heart attack&lt;br /&gt;knowing how much shit goes in my system&lt;br /&gt;how much of everythign i just let process through&lt;br /&gt;i use up a lot of it&lt;br /&gt;if not all of it&lt;br /&gt;it hurts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;because i'm far away from you&lt;br /&gt;and no matter how long i seem to run&lt;br /&gt;no matter what mountains i realize i can climb&lt;br /&gt;i still cant get to you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i cant fight mother earth and father time&lt;br /&gt;cant drive them to move faster&lt;br /&gt;cant offer them a drink to speed up their hearts&lt;br /&gt;they're too big for me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i try to speed myself up instead&lt;br /&gt;time is supposed to be relative&lt;br /&gt;if i move faster so should time&lt;br /&gt;spin me around like the flash&lt;br /&gt;let me go all the way to the future&lt;br /&gt;let me explore the depths of the past&lt;br /&gt;let me see your smile&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am disconnected cables&lt;br /&gt;little bits of static jumping through&lt;br /&gt;in purple lightning bolts&lt;br /&gt;my mind is like a playdoh barbershop&lt;br /&gt;fibers pushed through little molds&lt;br /&gt;seperating them like cheese&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes... i eat cheese crackers&lt;br /&gt;and sip on energy drinks&lt;br /&gt;while i sit alone&lt;br /&gt;wondering why i'm smoking another ciggarette&lt;br /&gt;trying to learn the reason for a heart&lt;br /&gt;beatingsofast&lt;br /&gt;keeping time&lt;br /&gt;ticking &lt;br /&gt;so &lt;br /&gt;slow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes i think i'm crazy...&lt;br /&gt;i hope you dont mind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-3459898089297604383?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/3459898089297604383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2010/04/what-fuck-did-i-just-write.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/3459898089297604383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/3459898089297604383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2010/04/what-fuck-did-i-just-write.html' title='what the fuck did i just write?'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-2051772920997974941</id><published>2010-04-22T20:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-22T21:07:09.040-07:00</updated><title type='text'>bibliomancy</title><content type='html'>when i was young&lt;br /&gt;i read in a book&lt;br /&gt;it may or may not&lt;br /&gt;have been a harry potter companion&lt;br /&gt;about a thing called&lt;br /&gt;bibliomancy&lt;br /&gt;the magic of books&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a stupid thing to say&lt;br /&gt;since books were always magic&lt;br /&gt;but i fell in love with the idea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what you do&lt;br /&gt;is form a question in your head&lt;br /&gt;find a book you have a connection with&lt;br /&gt;thumb the pages as you quetly think&lt;br /&gt;eyes closed&lt;br /&gt;focus on the question&lt;br /&gt;open to a random page&lt;br /&gt;run fingers across until it feels like you should stop&lt;br /&gt;read the word&lt;br /&gt;the sentance&lt;br /&gt;or the passage&lt;br /&gt;and perhaps it will make more sense&lt;br /&gt;or you'll gain a new outlook or idea&lt;br /&gt;something&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now and again&lt;br /&gt;when lost&lt;br /&gt;i practice bibliomancy&lt;br /&gt;and ask my question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;one night&lt;br /&gt;i asked if i would have the strength&lt;br /&gt;to prevent myself from the temptation&lt;br /&gt;with all the foolish choices around me each day&lt;br /&gt;could i be strong enough to resist&lt;br /&gt;since i've had the habit so many times before&lt;br /&gt;weakness is something i've been working to rid myself&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the book i had on hand&lt;br /&gt;was a new testament, psalms, and proverbs&lt;br /&gt;a military edition&lt;br /&gt;desert camo&lt;br /&gt;given to me by an army vietnam vetran&lt;br /&gt;i shook his hand&lt;br /&gt;wished him a good day&lt;br /&gt;told him to hydrate&lt;br /&gt;thanked him for his service&lt;br /&gt;he was missing half a thumb on the right&lt;br /&gt;and one of the fingers on his left hand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i opened the book&lt;br /&gt;chose my passage&lt;br /&gt;it began the story&lt;br /&gt;of jesus and the adultress&lt;br /&gt;let those without sin cast the first stone&lt;br /&gt;so commonly taken from that story&lt;br /&gt;but the better message&lt;br /&gt;is when he says to the woman&lt;br /&gt;"Where are your accusers? Has no one condemmed you?"&lt;br /&gt;and she replies&lt;br /&gt;"no one lord"&lt;br /&gt;to which he says&lt;br /&gt;"Then neither do i"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's funny jesus says&lt;br /&gt;in my modern terms&lt;br /&gt;"is anyone saying you have done wrong?"&lt;br /&gt;"nope, i think i'm good"&lt;br /&gt;"then you're good"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what it tells me though&lt;br /&gt;is that if i think i'll be strong enough&lt;br /&gt;than i will&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm worrying over nothing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-2051772920997974941?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/2051772920997974941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2010/04/bibliomancy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/2051772920997974941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/2051772920997974941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2010/04/bibliomancy.html' title='bibliomancy'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-8194639938307016953</id><published>2010-04-12T22:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-12T22:26:16.334-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i put my april 30/30 on facebook guys, sorry.</title><content type='html'>current horoscope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're dealing with relationship issues with a new determination -- you might force your mate or kids to sit down and hear you out, or you might seek out a new partner through new means&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you know what the issue is?&lt;br /&gt;9 hours of time difference&lt;br /&gt;fucking me over&lt;br /&gt;every day&lt;br /&gt;cause i miss her...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you know what the issue is?&lt;br /&gt;fucking temptation being so easy&lt;br /&gt;and my dick&lt;br /&gt;begging me&lt;br /&gt;to get permission&lt;br /&gt;or asking for it&lt;br /&gt;because it's little bitchass&lt;br /&gt;hasnt been given attention in forever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or maybe it's teh fact that i could cheat so well.&lt;br /&gt;but i dont want to!&lt;br /&gt;i mean fuck!&lt;br /&gt;i was the one who decided i wanted this relationship&lt;br /&gt;n now i'm getting all fucked up&lt;br /&gt;because one chick decides to show me some attention?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fuck horoscopes.&lt;br /&gt;my problem is all playing with time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-8194639938307016953?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/8194639938307016953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2010/04/i-put-my-april-3030-on-facebook-guys.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/8194639938307016953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/8194639938307016953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2010/04/i-put-my-april-3030-on-facebook-guys.html' title='i put my april 30/30 on facebook guys, sorry.'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-7003593646436330686</id><published>2010-04-10T05:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-10T06:00:09.424-07:00</updated><title type='text'>not dead yet</title><content type='html'>new poems are coming soon. gonna fix up some of my 30/30(perhaps 60/30) poems and post'm here as well as facebook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the desert has been pretty good for poetry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-7003593646436330686?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/7003593646436330686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2010/04/not-dead-yet.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/7003593646436330686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/7003593646436330686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2010/04/not-dead-yet.html' title='not dead yet'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-8081323970714286235</id><published>2010-03-27T17:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-27T17:33:26.641-07:00</updated><title type='text'>IEDs and me</title><content type='html'>i keep thinking of those videos&lt;br /&gt;propoganda for terrorists&lt;br /&gt;or perhaps just for the anti-american&lt;br /&gt;how blood boiled&lt;br /&gt;my heart sickened&lt;br /&gt;my eyes forced open&lt;br /&gt;you cant let yourself look away&lt;br /&gt;not when you know&lt;br /&gt;that you'll be the one&lt;br /&gt;guarding that gate&lt;br /&gt;checking that vehical&lt;br /&gt;searching that person&lt;br /&gt;who may or may not&lt;br /&gt;be ready to kill you&lt;br /&gt;and all those you are trying to protect&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i saw IEDs blow up convoys and humvees&lt;br /&gt;a flash with smoke&lt;br /&gt;it's not as dramatic as the movies make&lt;br /&gt;no fireball&lt;br /&gt;no flames flickering afterwards&lt;br /&gt;just black smoke&lt;br /&gt;and knowing those inside that vehicle&lt;br /&gt;arnt alive anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i saw a young marine&lt;br /&gt;complacent in his area&lt;br /&gt;not showing the aggressive&lt;br /&gt;assertive&lt;br /&gt;asskicking stance&lt;br /&gt;that we're trained to have&lt;br /&gt;for both friend and foe&lt;br /&gt;no matter how many times we've seen them&lt;br /&gt;get blown up&lt;br /&gt;a vehicle with a bomb&lt;br /&gt;someone who worked at that base for years&lt;br /&gt;studying us&lt;br /&gt;surveying us&lt;br /&gt;sedating our minds with a sense of&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;friendship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;during our combat patrol practical application&lt;br /&gt;i volenteered to carry the radio&lt;br /&gt;my MOS is 0621&lt;br /&gt;feild radio operator&lt;br /&gt;i was hoping to get a little expiriance&lt;br /&gt;before i headed off to my schooling&lt;br /&gt;we were ambushed&lt;br /&gt;and afterwards they explained how we bunched up&lt;br /&gt;how we followed a set path instead of running through the abundant woods&lt;br /&gt;how if it were real combat we would've been destroyed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then we were hit by an IED&lt;br /&gt;our dispersion along the road was good so we only had 3 causualties out of our squad&lt;br /&gt;consisting of 24 people&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that was good&lt;br /&gt;3 people who would've died&lt;br /&gt;i was in the rear of our formation&lt;br /&gt;by the time i called it in to EOD&lt;br /&gt;and ran to the front&lt;br /&gt;those casualties would've already lost have thier time&lt;br /&gt;drastically needed for medevac&lt;br /&gt;which could only be called in by me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it made me realize i need to get faster&lt;br /&gt;a lot faster&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there's a million places i could get sent&lt;br /&gt;or attached to&lt;br /&gt;humvees, convoys, FABs, armor units, you name it&lt;br /&gt;but i have this gut feeling&lt;br /&gt;this itch with every explosion i see&lt;br /&gt;i'll get put with the infantry&lt;br /&gt;and ill have to make that call&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's a flip flop of hte stomach&lt;br /&gt;turning over again and again and again&lt;br /&gt;POP&lt;br /&gt;black smoke&lt;br /&gt;as fast as a rifle fires&lt;br /&gt;yet deadlier&lt;br /&gt;disguised&lt;br /&gt;dealing death from afar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the senior marines&lt;br /&gt;tell us how we haven't seen shit yet&lt;br /&gt;i believe them&lt;br /&gt;but i can't do much&lt;br /&gt;other than wait&lt;br /&gt;for my time to come&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i just hope when it does&lt;br /&gt;i'm faster&lt;br /&gt;smarter&lt;br /&gt;more observant&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i can kill the enemy&lt;br /&gt;before they kill me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-8081323970714286235?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/8081323970714286235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2010/03/ieds-and-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/8081323970714286235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/8081323970714286235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2010/03/ieds-and-me.html' title='IEDs and me'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-7769094234615488173</id><published>2010-02-17T06:15:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-17T06:15:53.143-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i do not speak hands&lt;br /&gt;i do not speak feeling&lt;br /&gt;i only speak with one language&lt;br /&gt;this one&lt;br /&gt;i am ignorant&lt;br /&gt;i am sorry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-7769094234615488173?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/7769094234615488173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-do-not-speak-hands-i-do-not-speak.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/7769094234615488173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/7769094234615488173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-do-not-speak-hands-i-do-not-speak.html' title=''/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-3078779150504642704</id><published>2010-02-17T06:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-17T06:11:28.700-08:00</updated><title type='text'>poems from bootcamp</title><content type='html'>holding history in my hands&lt;br /&gt;letting legacy slip through fingers&lt;br /&gt;like sand through the sift&lt;br /&gt;catching only big pieces &lt;br /&gt;not minute details &lt;br /&gt;we are legacy killers&lt;br /&gt;let the blood of our forefathers&lt;br /&gt;their sweat and tears&lt;br /&gt;fly out our lazy lips&lt;br /&gt;as we spit on the ground they laid before us&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-3078779150504642704?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/3078779150504642704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2010/02/poems-from-bootcamp.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/3078779150504642704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/3078779150504642704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2010/02/poems-from-bootcamp.html' title='poems from bootcamp'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-7667845034291628060</id><published>2009-12-03T14:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-03T15:49:07.682-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Boot Camp Poems</title><content type='html'>Carlie sent these to me (his sister0 to post on here while he is at boot camp, so they might be alittle messed up, but i did my best to copy them. Enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Warrior&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Primal Warriors charging forward&lt;br /&gt;against odds deemed impossible&lt;br /&gt;clad in their surroundings&lt;br /&gt;they are born through fire&lt;br /&gt;and sweat rolling into iron made&lt;br /&gt;strong into steel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Delicate Creatures paying all mind&lt;br /&gt;to the intrictcies of history, customs&lt;br /&gt;and tradition, they know the gental&lt;br /&gt;folds of fabric like the petals of&lt;br /&gt; a floweer ever cartions and gental&lt;br /&gt;with those deserving of respect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scream&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Scream till you spit blood"&lt;br /&gt;They said.&lt;br /&gt;Scream for your life&lt;br /&gt;Scream Aye Sir&lt;br /&gt;SCREAM&lt;br /&gt;      SCREAM&lt;br /&gt;            SCREAM&lt;br /&gt;Till your throut rips itself out&lt;br /&gt;Till your ribcage hurts from breathing&lt;br /&gt;Till you mae the world change.&lt;br /&gt;You, you and your petty ideas&lt;br /&gt;crying and hollaring for change,&lt;br /&gt;for peace, for love&lt;br /&gt;Scream Louder.&lt;br /&gt;Scream till your voice is gone&lt;br /&gt;and has regrown broken in your mouth&lt;br /&gt;Everything s paid for in blood&lt;br /&gt;So Scream, till the copper taste&lt;br /&gt;fills your mouth, and your smile is red.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time Fears&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time is relative, to what you do&lt;br /&gt;to what you feel , and time is movemnt,&lt;br /&gt;staynation leaves slow inching tick of&lt;br /&gt;thought passing up and down&lt;br /&gt;These moments i sit merely awaiting&lt;br /&gt;the next challenge, punishment, activity,&lt;br /&gt;class... something,Just bear down on&lt;br /&gt;my shoulders like the world on atlas&lt;br /&gt;it hurts, giving drive and anticipation&lt;br /&gt;fear, givin readiness. i know&lt;br /&gt;when movement starts the dial&lt;br /&gt;spins round, round, round again&lt;br /&gt;fleeing from the peocity of forward&lt;br /&gt;footsteps followed by fear for wasted&lt;br /&gt;moments because we move fast&lt;br /&gt;fast fast the only speed we know&lt;br /&gt;and time cannot keep up while &lt;br /&gt;we move forward, so when we do stop,&lt;br /&gt;time makes us feel&lt;br /&gt;every.... single... moment....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-7667845034291628060?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/7667845034291628060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/12/boot-camp-poems.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/7667845034291628060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/7667845034291628060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/12/boot-camp-poems.html' title='Boot Camp Poems'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-8754367064991131701</id><published>2009-11-09T21:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-09T21:31:11.678-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Falls</title><content type='html'>Phaeton:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried to drive my father's chariot.&lt;br /&gt;Took the morning star and rode on through the skies bringing day.&lt;br /&gt;He did not see my wish to let the world start over.&lt;br /&gt;They called it an accident,&lt;br /&gt;said i could not control myself and that&lt;br /&gt;is why i woke the sky serpent.&lt;br /&gt;why i brought fire to the mountaintops&lt;br /&gt;why i bathed civilizations in flames.&lt;br /&gt;I was struck down hard by grandfather's lightning.&lt;br /&gt;they still speak of my fall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lucifer:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried to take my father's throne&lt;br /&gt;As the Morningstar i led forces through the day&lt;br /&gt;He did not see my wish to let the world start over&lt;br /&gt;But knew it was no accident&lt;br /&gt;I could no longer control myself&lt;br /&gt;Came down from the sky as a serpent&lt;br /&gt;Brought fire to the mountaintops&lt;br /&gt;bathed heaven in flames&lt;br /&gt;i was struck down by Michael's lightning&lt;br /&gt;they will always speak of my fall&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Icarus:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;flew with my father's wings &lt;br /&gt;up towards the morning star i climbed &lt;br /&gt;just wanting to escape this world&lt;br /&gt;it was an accident i swear &lt;br /&gt;feathers falling off like serpent-skin &lt;br /&gt;fires on their tips &lt;br /&gt;fire in the wax &lt;br /&gt;struck down by my own foolishness &lt;br /&gt;i wish they would forget my fall. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phaeton:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lightning&lt;br /&gt;raw power of heaven&lt;br /&gt;drawn like a line&lt;br /&gt;the bolt thrown as javelin&lt;br /&gt;hard&lt;br /&gt;fast&lt;br /&gt;penetrates&lt;br /&gt;yet leaves no shaft&lt;br /&gt;to grip and remove&lt;br /&gt;nothing can stop it&lt;br /&gt;for it travels through your veins&lt;br /&gt;lighting them all on fire&lt;br /&gt;i knew the feeling of the world&lt;br /&gt;in a beautiful pain&lt;br /&gt;buzzing and crackling&lt;br /&gt;felt the fires&lt;br /&gt;felt rebirth so near&lt;br /&gt;father said his chariot would be the death of me&lt;br /&gt;he forgave me as he handed me the reigns.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lucifer:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was Lightning&lt;br /&gt;Michael the power of heaven&lt;br /&gt;drew the line&lt;br /&gt;holding flaming sword&lt;br /&gt;dropped for fists&lt;br /&gt;hard&lt;br /&gt;fast&lt;br /&gt;neither of us would yield&lt;br /&gt;entangled like earthquakes&lt;br /&gt;he brought me down&lt;br /&gt;let me feel the aches and pains&lt;br /&gt;it was beautiful&lt;br /&gt;he sent me home&lt;br /&gt;trapped in ice so cold it burned&lt;br /&gt;like the fires i let loose upon home&lt;br /&gt;my father knew this would not be the death of me&lt;br /&gt;i wonder if his son would forgive as easily&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Icarus:&lt;br /&gt;I wish i'd been Lightning&lt;br /&gt;so my fall would be instant&lt;br /&gt;instead it was&lt;br /&gt;hard&lt;br /&gt;fast&lt;br /&gt;with impending doom&lt;br /&gt;i watched the waters beneath me&lt;br /&gt;i felt the fires of my wings burn&lt;br /&gt;the wax peeling away on my skin&lt;br /&gt;as smoke poured through my nose&lt;br /&gt;my father watched me fall&lt;br /&gt;called out like he did when i rose too high&lt;br /&gt;he did not chastise me in his cries&lt;br /&gt;nor called out my folly as one to be remembered&lt;br /&gt;for ages hence as one fool trying to reach&lt;br /&gt;a brighter, better place&lt;br /&gt;nor did he call out forgiveness for my fall&lt;br /&gt;it was all just loss&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Narrator:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wonder if falling&lt;br /&gt;Down from the heavens above&lt;br /&gt;can happen often&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or perhaps it's only ever happened once&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-8754367064991131701?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/8754367064991131701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/11/falls.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/8754367064991131701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/8754367064991131701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/11/falls.html' title='The Falls'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-8227902983695969461</id><published>2009-11-08T22:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-08T22:35:09.345-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>you cant see the cracks in my armor. &lt;br /&gt;i've put putty over all the cracks. &lt;br /&gt;you'd never know unless you took me apart &lt;br /&gt;or i started splitting at the seams. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the devil's in the details, and my trade is in trim-work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-8227902983695969461?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/8227902983695969461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/11/you-cant-see-cracks-in-my-armor.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/8227902983695969461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/8227902983695969461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/11/you-cant-see-cracks-in-my-armor.html' title=''/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-1364681460632708861</id><published>2009-11-08T21:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-08T22:03:26.001-08:00</updated><title type='text'>a talk about "us"</title><content type='html'>have you been avoiding it like i have?&lt;br /&gt;because distance makes us weak?&lt;br /&gt;or is it just me that gets weak&lt;br /&gt;me who doesn't want someone waiting&lt;br /&gt;with romance in her heart&lt;br /&gt;while i go off and train&lt;br /&gt;to save and end lives by my choosing&lt;br /&gt;to save and end lives by my stagnation&lt;br /&gt;to save and end lives by my hands&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm avoiding it because i'm about to leave&lt;br /&gt;it'll be easier if i don't have a girl waiting at home&lt;br /&gt;no worries on the home front&lt;br /&gt;waiting nervously for letters&lt;br /&gt;fears of a "dear john" letter&lt;br /&gt;every mail call&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you make me happy&lt;br /&gt;we talk every day&lt;br /&gt;separated so far&lt;br /&gt;a relationship is just putting a name on what we're already working towards&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i meant it when i said go for opportunities that arise &lt;br /&gt;don't wait on my account&lt;br /&gt;because i have a habit of waiting too long&lt;br /&gt;when it comes to jumping off a cliff&lt;br /&gt;into oceans of good things&lt;br /&gt;i'm used to it being too late&lt;br /&gt;but as long as your happy&lt;br /&gt;i'll be fine with it&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-1364681460632708861?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/1364681460632708861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/11/talk-about-us.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/1364681460632708861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/1364681460632708861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/11/talk-about-us.html' title='a talk about &quot;us&quot;'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-1230238854405277781</id><published>2009-11-08T21:51:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-08T21:56:23.560-08:00</updated><title type='text'>i've forgotten that kiss</title><content type='html'>I've forgotten what it was like kissing you&lt;br /&gt;i think i like that&lt;br /&gt;no longer feeling the pressure of your lips&lt;br /&gt;the smell of your hair&lt;br /&gt;the weight of your body under my hands&lt;br /&gt;so long i hungered for it&lt;br /&gt;then achieved it... only once&lt;br /&gt;one long deep kiss&lt;br /&gt;hundred pecks of nothing&lt;br /&gt;that one&lt;br /&gt;long&lt;br /&gt;deep&lt;br /&gt;kiss&lt;br /&gt;that's what made me think i had a chance&lt;br /&gt;i took my damn time with it&lt;br /&gt;i was wrong&lt;br /&gt;but that's life&lt;br /&gt;we're better off without it&lt;br /&gt;i mean, our friendship had a million problems&lt;br /&gt;imagine what our relationship would have?&lt;br /&gt;we work better at a distance anyway&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes i doubt you'll write to me&lt;br /&gt;but you promised&lt;br /&gt;so you will&lt;br /&gt;even if its only once&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes i doubt i'd care&lt;br /&gt;but your that stupid girl&lt;br /&gt;the one i'd never really get over&lt;br /&gt;even if it was only one&lt;br /&gt;long deep kiss&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that keeps me hooked&lt;br /&gt;or kept as it seems to be&lt;br /&gt;since i no longer know your taste&lt;br /&gt;nor smell&lt;br /&gt;nor touch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just the visual memory&lt;br /&gt;the moving in&lt;br /&gt;the moving away&lt;br /&gt;the fumbling&lt;br /&gt;the desperateness of me&lt;br /&gt;the fogging of my windows&lt;br /&gt;all the details around it i can clearly remember&lt;br /&gt;but not that kiss&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;however deep and long it was&lt;br /&gt;was not long enough to last&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-1230238854405277781?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/1230238854405277781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/11/ive-forgotten-that-kiss.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/1230238854405277781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/1230238854405277781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/11/ive-forgotten-that-kiss.html' title='i&apos;ve forgotten that kiss'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-6273881101682868530</id><published>2009-11-08T06:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-08T06:59:31.853-08:00</updated><title type='text'>an excuse as to why i cant play musical insturments well at all</title><content type='html'>We're not goin' silent yet. &lt;br /&gt;let's scream out the stereo with the songs hell rising up from the earth below. &lt;br /&gt;give us the drums, &lt;br /&gt;give us the guitar, &lt;br /&gt;give us the bellowing calls of monsters from your nightmares. &lt;br /&gt;horns and choirs belong to heaven with thier mighty organs, &lt;br /&gt;we need no intricate fingertips &lt;br /&gt;but thrashing and tearing of flesh from bone to create our song.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-6273881101682868530?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/6273881101682868530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/11/excuse-as-to-why-i-cant-play-musical.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/6273881101682868530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/6273881101682868530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/11/excuse-as-to-why-i-cant-play-musical.html' title='an excuse as to why i cant play musical insturments well at all'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-8978995937165421014</id><published>2009-11-07T16:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-08T06:57:44.165-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hansel and Gretel inside the wichtes house</title><content type='html'>Hansel: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to go bake in my blankets sister. &lt;br /&gt;when the wicked witch comes to eat me, &lt;br /&gt;i will gladly offer her my flesh knowing that she can live &lt;br /&gt;longer than i could ever dream, &lt;br /&gt;a youthful beauty.  &lt;br /&gt;i am a lowly boy, &lt;br /&gt;she is a queen clad in the charcoal-gingerbread of black forest night. &lt;br /&gt;I love her dearly, and grow fat with her returning favors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gretel:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brother please listen&lt;br /&gt;she is not some glorious immortal&lt;br /&gt;knowledgeable of the world around us&lt;br /&gt;she is but some beast tied to her lair &lt;br /&gt;all she wants is to eat your flesh&lt;br /&gt;and turn me into some kind of evil like her&lt;br /&gt;that's why she claims she'll teach me the magic of flesh&lt;br /&gt;the mystics of sweets and fairy-tales&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to be continued...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-8978995937165421014?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/8978995937165421014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/11/hansel-and-gretel-inside-wichtes-house.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/8978995937165421014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/8978995937165421014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/11/hansel-and-gretel-inside-wichtes-house.html' title='Hansel and Gretel inside the wichtes house'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-3827326899332228789</id><published>2009-11-04T00:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T00:11:02.582-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yosephina Irene, or, The Indonisean Chick who talks to me on facebook.</title><content type='html'>a girl from indonesia&lt;br /&gt;found me on facebook&lt;br /&gt;she has been talking to me&lt;br /&gt;and tells me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"coz i like ur style.... so handsome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if u live in my country, i'm sure that u become an actor"&lt;br /&gt;after i question why she asked if i had a girlfriend or not&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"u're so perfect, handsome and romantic man...."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i mention i like to write poetry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i do not believe this for a second.&lt;br /&gt;i do not understand why she would put herself beneath me&lt;br /&gt;i do not understand the way she goes about trying to flirt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;of what use could i possibly be?&lt;br /&gt;why me to begin with?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she asks me the same questions every time i get online&lt;br /&gt;too late at night&lt;br /&gt;or early in the morning&lt;br /&gt;and i cant help but speak with her&lt;br /&gt;she seems nice enough&lt;br /&gt;says she doesn't speak english well&lt;br /&gt;but something seems off&lt;br /&gt;i feel she may be fake&lt;br /&gt;but she has an abundance of pictures&lt;br /&gt;and friends from the area&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the paranoia in me&lt;br /&gt;says "green card wife"&lt;br /&gt;again and again&lt;br /&gt;paranoia is narcissistic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Yosephina Irene...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what do you want from me?&lt;br /&gt;i cant help but wonder&lt;br /&gt;if i'll ever find out...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-3827326899332228789?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/3827326899332228789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/11/yosephina-irene-or-indonisean-chick-who.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/3827326899332228789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/3827326899332228789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/11/yosephina-irene-or-indonisean-chick-who.html' title='Yosephina Irene, or, The Indonisean Chick who talks to me on facebook.'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-9001967664977250240</id><published>2009-11-03T23:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T00:01:30.841-08:00</updated><title type='text'>destiny?</title><content type='html'>it's funny. i used to believe in the cards&lt;br /&gt;tarot readings&lt;br /&gt;bibliomancy&lt;br /&gt;voodoo&lt;br /&gt;druidism &lt;br /&gt;paganism&lt;br /&gt;name it&lt;br /&gt;i was a believer&lt;br /&gt;this opened all sorts of doors&lt;br /&gt;expanded my mental psyche&lt;br /&gt;but gave me such great fear&lt;br /&gt;made me so much blinder to myself&lt;br /&gt;i needed others to bring the truth out of me&lt;br /&gt;through thier readings, their interpretations&lt;br /&gt;now as i'm older&lt;br /&gt;i believe in less&lt;br /&gt;focus not on the ritual&lt;br /&gt;but on the truth&lt;br /&gt;bring it out of myself&lt;br /&gt;i hope this makes me a better person...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on halloween of 2006&lt;br /&gt;my card reading suggested&lt;br /&gt;that a future with water&lt;br /&gt;and military&lt;br /&gt;was bound for me&lt;br /&gt;i disagreed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in late 2007&lt;br /&gt;a man who could tell the future&lt;br /&gt;because he was psychically trained&lt;br /&gt;said i would live by the water&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that same day&lt;br /&gt;a man who read cards and stones&lt;br /&gt;revealed how upset i really was about my mother&lt;br /&gt;how i masked it with how i was upset in my&lt;br /&gt;lack of relationship&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in 2008, i spent my summer living on the beach&lt;br /&gt;with some of my best friends&lt;br /&gt;in 2009, i am headed into a career in the military&lt;br /&gt;an aquatic fighting force&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if you open your mind&lt;br /&gt;paths will be laid before you&lt;br /&gt;and perhaps you will stumble upon them&lt;br /&gt;but maybe&lt;br /&gt;there is a touch of destiny out there&lt;br /&gt;that you can embrace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-9001967664977250240?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/9001967664977250240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/11/destiny.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/9001967664977250240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/9001967664977250240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/11/destiny.html' title='destiny?'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-4972990467133039311</id><published>2009-11-01T21:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-01T22:00:08.798-08:00</updated><title type='text'>miles to go before i sleep</title><content type='html'>i am just hoping that my tank of gas will hold up till the end of this road. i have miles to go before i sleep, and only so much patience can my mind keep. the wheels are spinning so let's ride out this storm. lets ride along with thunder bursting fires in our bellies as the steel beast roars what little fuel it has left screaming "You may have miles to go, but i will not get you there. you're feet were always more trustworthy. i am but rust, and dust" . so we rest, for i have miles to go before i sleep, and more memories my mind must keep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-4972990467133039311?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/4972990467133039311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/11/miles-to-go-before-i-sleep.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/4972990467133039311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/4972990467133039311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/11/miles-to-go-before-i-sleep.html' title='miles to go before i sleep'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-5564629157304252684</id><published>2009-11-01T20:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-02T20:09:06.913-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i am saying exactly what i mean&lt;br /&gt;there is nothing deeper&lt;br /&gt;nothing to analyze&lt;br /&gt;i just want to show you&lt;br /&gt;what i see&lt;br /&gt;but i am no painter&lt;br /&gt;i cannot put the apple&lt;br /&gt;the pear&lt;br /&gt;on the page&lt;br /&gt;on the paper&lt;br /&gt;on the canvas&lt;br /&gt;i can merely try to express&lt;br /&gt;through words&lt;br /&gt;these textures&lt;br /&gt;smells&lt;br /&gt;colors&lt;br /&gt;sounds&lt;br /&gt;as clear as day&lt;br /&gt;so the blind can see&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-5564629157304252684?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/5564629157304252684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-am-saying-exactly-what-i-mean-there.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/5564629157304252684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/5564629157304252684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-am-saying-exactly-what-i-mean-there.html' title=''/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-2341693287234690516</id><published>2009-10-29T20:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-29T20:16:02.215-07:00</updated><title type='text'>buh, stuff like this... is should have a camera on a couple in convorsation n see the other persons reactions to the lines</title><content type='html'>I will hold you tight until the skin tears from my bones. &lt;br /&gt;until muscles scream and tear. &lt;br /&gt;whipping cords that will tie together in tangled air. &lt;br /&gt;to put it simply, i'm not letting go. &lt;br /&gt;it's the only thing i can show. &lt;br /&gt;it's the only way. &lt;br /&gt;i can say. &lt;br /&gt;i know... &lt;br /&gt;it goes without saying. &lt;br /&gt;it always has.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-2341693287234690516?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/2341693287234690516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/buh-stuff-like-this-is-should-have.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/2341693287234690516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/2341693287234690516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/buh-stuff-like-this-is-should-have.html' title='buh, stuff like this... is should have a camera on a couple in convorsation n see the other persons reactions to the lines'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-3007359518977213982</id><published>2009-10-29T18:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-29T19:00:41.969-07:00</updated><title type='text'>how good I give head (upon request)</title><content type='html'>tip of tongue slick wet with saliva &lt;br /&gt;licking luscious outer lips &lt;br /&gt;exploring all crevices and tiny slips of skin. &lt;br /&gt;up and down following canyons built by time and tenderness&lt;br /&gt;when the quiver comes quick &lt;br /&gt;teasing tongue takes time to feel tantalizing textures&lt;br /&gt;hips move under pressure as tongue explores &lt;br /&gt;caverns deep within the chasms&lt;br /&gt;deeper, deeper&lt;br /&gt;desire takes trembling skin and pushes &lt;br /&gt;plush lips against the edges of eternity&lt;br /&gt;through the passage of time&lt;br /&gt;pace slows&lt;br /&gt;sultry salty sweet &lt;br /&gt;flavors left on slick lips looking for more &lt;br /&gt;mouthwatering &lt;br /&gt;bliss &lt;br /&gt;then quaking quivers bring froth complex cascading emotions &lt;br /&gt;tearing nerves asunder in the breathtaking experience&lt;br /&gt;of me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-3007359518977213982?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/3007359518977213982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/how-good-i-give-head-upon-request.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/3007359518977213982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/3007359518977213982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/how-good-i-give-head-upon-request.html' title='how good I give head (upon request)'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-2032721262069311924</id><published>2009-10-29T14:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-29T15:00:56.808-07:00</updated><title type='text'>this is how love should feel (cause i'd totally know)</title><content type='html'>enough passion moving against the currents of the universe&lt;br /&gt;lightning screams across skies by thousands &lt;br /&gt;fingertips across the chalkboard of whatever you thought "normal" meant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;let it hurt so bad you scream as thunder&lt;br /&gt;feel millions of collisions on the atomic level&lt;br /&gt;pushing through whatever normality you thought you had&lt;br /&gt;right out the window in a vortex&lt;br /&gt;spinning&lt;br /&gt;spinning&lt;br /&gt;spinning&lt;br /&gt;lighting screams across skies by the thousands&lt;br /&gt;screeching through your being&lt;br /&gt;it burns&lt;br /&gt;it burns and all you have left is that burn&lt;br /&gt;deep in skin it kills your nerves&lt;br /&gt;you cannot feel anything anymore&lt;br /&gt;numb&lt;br /&gt;passion expressed against the waves of the universe&lt;br /&gt;sputter out&lt;br /&gt;leaving calm cold skies&lt;br /&gt;you're alone&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-2032721262069311924?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/2032721262069311924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/this-is-how-love-should-feel-cause-id.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/2032721262069311924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/2032721262069311924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/this-is-how-love-should-feel-cause-id.html' title='this is how love should feel (cause i&apos;d totally know)'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-8543437916432222406</id><published>2009-10-27T22:03:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-27T22:10:59.596-07:00</updated><title type='text'>dead end street</title><content type='html'>i am a dead end street&lt;br /&gt;unless you live there already&lt;br /&gt;the real point in diving down&lt;br /&gt;is to see what lies at the end&lt;br /&gt;spin round the cul-du-sac&lt;br /&gt;look over a cliffs edge&lt;br /&gt;stare into the wild&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is what i am&lt;br /&gt;useless unless you already&lt;br /&gt;lie within me&lt;br /&gt;a dead end&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sorry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-8543437916432222406?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/8543437916432222406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/dead-end-street.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/8543437916432222406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/8543437916432222406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/dead-end-street.html' title='dead end street'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-7601537981510087250</id><published>2009-10-27T14:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-27T14:15:02.126-07:00</updated><title type='text'>trainwrecks</title><content type='html'>sees trainwrecks on a daily basis&lt;br /&gt;nothing gives more of a high than jumping on for the ride&lt;br /&gt;watching isn't enough &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want to feel... blunt. force. trauma. &lt;br /&gt;i want to feel... impact. compression. destruction. &lt;br /&gt;i want to feel... alive. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;take my hand&lt;br /&gt;ride with me&lt;br /&gt;maybe this time we wont jump off at the last second. &lt;br /&gt;we'll actually see it through&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-7601537981510087250?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/7601537981510087250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/trainwrecks.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/7601537981510087250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/7601537981510087250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/trainwrecks.html' title='trainwrecks'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-2576976036186268646</id><published>2009-10-27T13:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-27T14:12:49.319-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Moth Collector</title><content type='html'>watch the lit match burn&lt;br /&gt;the tip glows red&lt;br /&gt;as the wood blackens&lt;br /&gt;flame shrinks&lt;br /&gt;spreads&lt;br /&gt;and grows again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;flame is often used to express passion&lt;br /&gt;did you know that little girl?&lt;br /&gt;of course you did&lt;br /&gt;you're smart&lt;br /&gt;yes you are&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;too bad fire hurts&lt;br /&gt;child and the oven and all that&lt;br /&gt;like a moth you fly&lt;br /&gt;reaching closer to the candle&lt;br /&gt;entrapped&lt;br /&gt;then caught&lt;br /&gt;wings snipped&lt;br /&gt;still beautiful&lt;br /&gt;but broken&lt;br /&gt;pinned down in glass case&lt;br /&gt;for all to watch&lt;br /&gt;only i to touch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;look at yourself squirm&lt;br /&gt;your skin turns red&lt;br /&gt;your eyes blacken&lt;br /&gt;body shrinks&lt;br /&gt;spread&lt;br /&gt;apart again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you are pinned in my glass case&lt;br /&gt;dear moth&lt;br /&gt;flirting with fire&lt;br /&gt;now you'll feel the burn&lt;br /&gt;forever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-2576976036186268646?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/2576976036186268646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/moth-collector.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/2576976036186268646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/2576976036186268646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/moth-collector.html' title='Moth Collector'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-4434018901995980047</id><published>2009-10-27T12:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-27T12:49:13.441-07:00</updated><title type='text'>blarg</title><content type='html'>right&lt;br /&gt;wrong&lt;br /&gt;these are just words&lt;br /&gt;i've read too many tales&lt;br /&gt;where the villain and hero&lt;br /&gt;could be interchanged&lt;br /&gt;too many of my own stories&lt;br /&gt;have me in both places&lt;br /&gt;i am torn&lt;br /&gt;guilt-ridden warpath&lt;br /&gt;blood on the sands&lt;br /&gt;for just and noble causes&lt;br /&gt;the uselessness of war&lt;br /&gt;power&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i once heard sociopaths&lt;br /&gt;do not have their own emotions&lt;br /&gt;but mimic those around them&lt;br /&gt;if i have no compass to sail by&lt;br /&gt;and no black or whites to make these shades of grey&lt;br /&gt;can i say i have emotions?&lt;br /&gt;or am i just a mimic&lt;br /&gt;taking what i see&lt;br /&gt;applying it to what i do&lt;br /&gt;applying it to how i feel&lt;br /&gt;applying it to my life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;am i a sociopath?&lt;br /&gt;would i know if i was?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-4434018901995980047?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/4434018901995980047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/blarg.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/4434018901995980047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/4434018901995980047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/blarg.html' title='blarg'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-2365357327619131471</id><published>2009-10-26T19:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-26T22:20:36.171-07:00</updated><title type='text'>sometimes you just need to tell the truth</title><content type='html'>i think joining the military was the first time i ever did anything unexpected.&lt;br /&gt;first time people looked at me sideways and said "really now?"&lt;br /&gt;first time people were legitimately surprised by something i did&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm pretty sick of being predictable&lt;br /&gt;everyone always knows what i'll say&lt;br /&gt;the things i'll do&lt;br /&gt;how i'm going to act&lt;br /&gt;except for women who fall in love with me&lt;br /&gt;then i seem to always be a never ending surprise&lt;br /&gt;with lots of "i never thought you would do this..."&lt;br /&gt;or "I never suspected you would be like that..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i guess if you get that close to me&lt;br /&gt;you either stop seeing the pattern everyone else seems to know&lt;br /&gt;or i start showing my truer colors&lt;br /&gt;i'm not sure...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'd like it if i could change&lt;br /&gt;it's just easier to do what everyone expects of me&lt;br /&gt;because they need something&lt;br /&gt;i'm not here for myself &lt;br /&gt;i'm here for you&lt;br /&gt;and you&lt;br /&gt;even you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm sick of being that ego booster&lt;br /&gt;that flirt who reminds you you're attractive&lt;br /&gt;says he'd go after you in a heartbeat&lt;br /&gt;those mean boys don't deserve you&lt;br /&gt;honestly, i am not attracted to half of you&lt;br /&gt;the other half, i'm attracted but not sexually&lt;br /&gt;there's many i want for their talents, and attitudes&lt;br /&gt;there's only a couple i really want for their bodies&lt;br /&gt;and it's rare if i want one of you for your heart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if you were to offer yourself to me...&lt;br /&gt;the thought would run through my mind&lt;br /&gt;"if i say no, will it make all i said a lie?&lt;br /&gt;will it make all those times i spoke&lt;br /&gt;meaningless?"&lt;br /&gt;that is how i would rationalize it&lt;br /&gt;perhaps another part of me is saying &lt;br /&gt;"Yay, free pussy" while another screams&lt;br /&gt;"What are you doing? this isn't worth another part of you!"&lt;br /&gt;because i would leave a part of myself with you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm sick of being that jokester&lt;br /&gt;just one big fucking joke&lt;br /&gt;i feel like the court jester&lt;br /&gt;i can say anything i want&lt;br /&gt;but who really heeds my counsel?&lt;br /&gt;who sees the seriousness underneath?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;some people know i'm not just here for a good time&lt;br /&gt;i can have serious discussions&lt;br /&gt;or take ideas and advice from sources i don't fully understand&lt;br /&gt;i'm not stupid...&lt;br /&gt;some of you expect me to be.&lt;br /&gt;because i have done stupid things&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe when i have gone for awhile&lt;br /&gt;people will forget the edges&lt;br /&gt;the little details&lt;br /&gt;of what i was like to be around&lt;br /&gt;maybe being away from it all&lt;br /&gt;i'll forget the little details&lt;br /&gt;all those stupid facets&lt;br /&gt;maybe my diamond &lt;br /&gt;will turn back into coal&lt;br /&gt;smoothed by the ocean&lt;br /&gt;dropped in the sea&lt;br /&gt;passing ship&lt;br /&gt;passing ship&lt;br /&gt;come to me&lt;br /&gt;i want to forget who i am&lt;br /&gt;so i may start over&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;perhaps then&lt;br /&gt;those who will remember&lt;br /&gt;can look sideways saying "Really now?"&lt;br /&gt;with surprise&lt;br /&gt;and those who know what i've always wanted&lt;br /&gt;will whisper "Of course"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want to be some wise old friend&lt;br /&gt;patient and understanding&lt;br /&gt;no one expecting more from him&lt;br /&gt;than whatever he can give&lt;br /&gt;never expecting jokes&lt;br /&gt;or flirtation&lt;br /&gt;never expecting stupid comments&lt;br /&gt;no fake ego to hide behind&lt;br /&gt;just that friend&lt;br /&gt;you like to talk to sometimes&lt;br /&gt;sit around with&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;play a game&lt;br /&gt;share stories&lt;br /&gt;make a meal&lt;br /&gt;just sit and enjoy the sun&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want to be that...&lt;br /&gt;someone whose seen and done&lt;br /&gt;what no one else has&lt;br /&gt;and just wants to rest&lt;br /&gt;enjoying his days&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i bet you already knew that&lt;br /&gt;didn't you?&lt;br /&gt;i know i'm pretty predictable.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-2365357327619131471?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/2365357327619131471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/sometimes-you-just-need-to-tell-truth.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/2365357327619131471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/2365357327619131471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/sometimes-you-just-need-to-tell-truth.html' title='sometimes you just need to tell the truth'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-8199783797709614221</id><published>2009-10-26T17:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-26T17:15:47.773-07:00</updated><title type='text'>just a little thing about today</title><content type='html'>"even before you go to bootcamp, it's not just about you not failing. it's about everyone not failing. there is no reason for only one person to pass, everyone must. that's what the marine corps is about. you help each other" - Lance Corporal who will be PTing with us for the next two weeks, n teaching us out info better. he's actually going to pick up someone running shoes because they cant afford them. they took him in as a recruiter's assistant because his wife goes to college up here, and he couldn't get leave to see her. i think i made the right choice in branches.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-8199783797709614221?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/8199783797709614221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/just-little-thing-about-today.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/8199783797709614221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/8199783797709614221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/just-little-thing-about-today.html' title='just a little thing about today'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-3295706275490944905</id><published>2009-10-25T17:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-25T19:38:54.301-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Paralells Phaeton/Lucifer:</title><content type='html'>Phaeton:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried to drive my father's chariot. &lt;br /&gt;Took the morning star and rode on through the skies bringing day. &lt;br /&gt;He did not see my wish to let the world start over. &lt;br /&gt;They called it an accident, &lt;br /&gt;said i could not control myself and that &lt;br /&gt;is why i woke the sky serpent. &lt;br /&gt;why i brought fire to the mountaintops &lt;br /&gt;why i bathed civilizations in flames. &lt;br /&gt;I was struck down hard by grandfather's lightning. &lt;br /&gt;they still speak of my fall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lucifer:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried to take my father's throne&lt;br /&gt;As the Morningstar i led forces through the day&lt;br /&gt;He did not see my wish to let the world start over&lt;br /&gt;But knew it was no accident&lt;br /&gt;I could no longer control myself&lt;br /&gt;Came down from the sky as a serpent&lt;br /&gt;Brought fire to the mountaintops&lt;br /&gt;bathed heaven in flames&lt;br /&gt;i was struck down by Michael's lightning&lt;br /&gt;they will always speak of my fall&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phaeton:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lightning&lt;br /&gt;raw power of heaven&lt;br /&gt;drawn like a line&lt;br /&gt;the bolt thrown as javelin&lt;br /&gt;hard&lt;br /&gt;fast&lt;br /&gt;penetrates&lt;br /&gt;yet leaves no shaft&lt;br /&gt;to grip and remove&lt;br /&gt;nothing can stop it&lt;br /&gt;for it travels through your veins&lt;br /&gt;lighting them all on fire&lt;br /&gt;i knew the feeling of the world&lt;br /&gt;in a beautiful pain&lt;br /&gt;buzzing and crackling&lt;br /&gt;felt the fires&lt;br /&gt;felt rebirth so near&lt;br /&gt;father said his chariot would be the death of me&lt;br /&gt;he forgave me as he handed me the reigns.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lucifer:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was Lightning&lt;br /&gt;Michael the power of heaven&lt;br /&gt;drew the line&lt;br /&gt;holding flaming sword&lt;br /&gt;dropped for fists&lt;br /&gt;hard&lt;br /&gt;fast&lt;br /&gt;neither of us would yield&lt;br /&gt;entangled like earthquakes&lt;br /&gt;he brought me down&lt;br /&gt;let me feel the aches and pains&lt;br /&gt;it was beautiful&lt;br /&gt;he sent me home&lt;br /&gt;trapped in ice so cold it burned&lt;br /&gt;like the fires i let loose upon home&lt;br /&gt;my father knew this would not be the death of me&lt;br /&gt;i wonder if his son would forgive as easily&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Narrator:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wonder if falling&lt;br /&gt;Down from the heavens above&lt;br /&gt;can happen often&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or perhaps it's only ever happened once&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-3295706275490944905?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/3295706275490944905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/paralells-phaetonlucifer.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/3295706275490944905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/3295706275490944905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/paralells-phaetonlucifer.html' title='Paralells Phaeton/Lucifer:'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-9162886026209500910</id><published>2009-10-25T09:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-25T09:56:52.604-07:00</updated><title type='text'>what i'm looking for</title><content type='html'>thank you for wishing me luck&lt;br /&gt;for telling me&lt;br /&gt;how you hope i find what i'm looking for&lt;br /&gt;hope i stay safe&lt;br /&gt;hope i come home and visit you again&lt;br /&gt;i will do these things&lt;br /&gt;without any shadow of doubt&lt;br /&gt;just for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm the traveler&lt;br /&gt;the one who comes to a place&lt;br /&gt;finds love&lt;br /&gt;then leaves&lt;br /&gt;the one who builds ties no distance can stretch too thin&lt;br /&gt;always seeming to wander aimlessly&lt;br /&gt;creating a family where he lands&lt;br /&gt;although he has one of his own&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is what i am looking for&lt;br /&gt;more travels&lt;br /&gt;more families&lt;br /&gt;more experiences&lt;br /&gt;more ties no distance can stretch too thin&lt;br /&gt;this is what i crave&lt;br /&gt;bringing the world together&lt;br /&gt;strung up in my own way&lt;br /&gt;taking all you have to offer&lt;br /&gt;all i have to give you in return&lt;br /&gt;and tell the stories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is why i will stay safe&lt;br /&gt;why i will come home again&lt;br /&gt;the stories need to be told&lt;br /&gt;to be spread&lt;br /&gt;no science can replace&lt;br /&gt;the way you can stand&lt;br /&gt;be it in summer heat&lt;br /&gt;winter snow&lt;br /&gt;or anything in between&lt;br /&gt;conversing&lt;br /&gt;sharing stories&lt;br /&gt;experiences&lt;br /&gt;eating it all up&lt;br /&gt;letting little details&lt;br /&gt;form new edges&lt;br /&gt;new curves &lt;br /&gt;new facets &lt;br /&gt;to your 3D personality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe someday i'll be lucky enough&lt;br /&gt;to make the world small enough&lt;br /&gt;that all these ties&lt;br /&gt;become one giant rubber band ball&lt;br /&gt;bouncing through space&lt;br /&gt;leaving a line to bring us home&lt;br /&gt;stronger than any distance could hope to stretch&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-9162886026209500910?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/9162886026209500910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/what-im-looking-for.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/9162886026209500910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/9162886026209500910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/what-im-looking-for.html' title='what i&apos;m looking for'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-5804045943664391064</id><published>2009-10-21T08:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T08:27:04.681-07:00</updated><title type='text'>short and sweet</title><content type='html'>you are origami masterpiece. &lt;br /&gt;such delicate soft folds in the flesh. &lt;br /&gt;creating crescent curves captivating, &lt;br /&gt;clinging concave patterns up and down your form. &lt;br /&gt;you are beautiful, &lt;br /&gt;soft as paper, &lt;br /&gt;strong as paper, &lt;br /&gt;i cannot tear you, &lt;br /&gt;folded too many times over. &lt;br /&gt;blank as paper, &lt;br /&gt;let me write on you the words never spoken, &lt;br /&gt;always thought&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-5804045943664391064?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/5804045943664391064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/short-and-sweet.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/5804045943664391064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/5804045943664391064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/short-and-sweet.html' title='short and sweet'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-4146120633061270736</id><published>2009-10-20T07:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T08:01:09.038-07:00</updated><title type='text'>arg... dont know where i'm going here.</title><content type='html'>i am the disciple of the moth&lt;br /&gt;i follow it's ways &lt;br /&gt;speaking words our ears are too young to understand&lt;br /&gt;dancing round lights and candle flames&lt;br /&gt;dancing towards the sun&lt;br /&gt;dancing with its mate&lt;br /&gt;flit-flutter-by&lt;br /&gt;flit-flutter-fly&lt;br /&gt;up towards the sun&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-4146120633061270736?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/4146120633061270736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/arg-dont-know-where-im-going-here.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/4146120633061270736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/4146120633061270736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/arg-dont-know-where-im-going-here.html' title='arg... dont know where i&apos;m going here.'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-3486484146801523881</id><published>2009-10-20T07:09:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T07:14:25.942-07:00</updated><title type='text'>music</title><content type='html'>i never understood how strong music seemed to be. &lt;br /&gt;you let it affect every part of your life. &lt;br /&gt;for me, it's all background noise. &lt;br /&gt;all firetrucks in the middle of the night. &lt;br /&gt;all trains whistle through sleeping city. &lt;br /&gt;when you thought of us you heard Bach, &lt;br /&gt;i heard the humming of a bee. &lt;br /&gt;someone needs to start moving away. &lt;br /&gt;i'll take the first step. &lt;br /&gt;i was always better at leading&lt;br /&gt;always better at dancing&lt;br /&gt;more focused on the motions than the music&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we were always just going through the motions&lt;br /&gt;while you, entrapped in melody&lt;br /&gt;were thinking there was more to it than just me&lt;br /&gt;moving my feet, singing out of tune&lt;br /&gt;i'm home-recorded audio&lt;br /&gt;with all that extra background noise&lt;br /&gt;you can make music out of it if you want&lt;br /&gt;i'll never hear what you have to offer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-3486484146801523881?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/3486484146801523881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/music.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/3486484146801523881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/3486484146801523881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/music.html' title='music'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-6996407241857508117</id><published>2009-10-17T13:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-17T14:02:10.381-07:00</updated><title type='text'>house of emotion</title><content type='html'>i am building a house of emotion&lt;br /&gt;using these tools i've learned&lt;br /&gt;to place you inside&lt;br /&gt;giving you a room&lt;br /&gt;for the entire time i read this poem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the foundation is self-experience&lt;br /&gt;the bit of this story called life&lt;br /&gt;that i've seen and heard&lt;br /&gt;it gives me a way to communicate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the supports are vocabulary&lt;br /&gt;using different styles&lt;br /&gt;to hold up different walls&lt;br /&gt;to make different points&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the electrical is emotional&lt;br /&gt;using words to move feeling&lt;br /&gt;up, over, across&lt;br /&gt;through all these rooms&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the insulation is metaphor&lt;br /&gt;hiding the studs&lt;br /&gt;warming the room&lt;br /&gt;while keeping sounds&lt;br /&gt;separate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;drywall, my favorite&lt;br /&gt;is narrative&lt;br /&gt;the story&lt;br /&gt;it covers over everything&lt;br /&gt;giving you a canvas to paint&lt;br /&gt;or paper&lt;br /&gt;or tile&lt;br /&gt;but place something above all those tools&lt;br /&gt;give the room a sense of completion&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the rest, is merely trim-work and plumbing&lt;br /&gt;neither my forte&lt;br /&gt;but i can do the basics&lt;br /&gt;maybe a little more than most&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;let me build you this house of emotion&lt;br /&gt;i have the tools&lt;br /&gt;now all i need is the time&lt;br /&gt;i'll get it right eventually.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-6996407241857508117?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/6996407241857508117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/house-of-emotion.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/6996407241857508117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/6996407241857508117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/house-of-emotion.html' title='house of emotion'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-621587808072635331</id><published>2009-10-15T21:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T21:05:05.023-07:00</updated><title type='text'>RPM</title><content type='html'>I am random particle motion. &lt;br /&gt;constantly colliding, &lt;br /&gt;bumping, &lt;br /&gt;smashing, &lt;br /&gt;tiny peices of myself against your grain. &lt;br /&gt;you would try and say you saw it coming. &lt;br /&gt;you were wrong. &lt;br /&gt;i am random, &lt;br /&gt;small particles invisible to sight, &lt;br /&gt;my motion cant be predicted, &lt;br /&gt;nor stopped by anything you throw at me. &lt;br /&gt;i am not solid enough for your density game. &lt;br /&gt;i am random particle motion... &lt;br /&gt;with so much order. &lt;br /&gt;predictable ideas . &lt;br /&gt;i'm sorry... &lt;br /&gt;i guess you did see me coming.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-621587808072635331?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/621587808072635331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/rpm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/621587808072635331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/621587808072635331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/rpm.html' title='RPM'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-7147093207746842545</id><published>2009-10-15T20:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T20:50:35.866-07:00</updated><title type='text'>recovering slowly</title><content type='html'>my eyes sit heavy&lt;br /&gt;fogging my vision&lt;br /&gt;feels&lt;br /&gt;like you punched me in the face&lt;br /&gt;like recovering slowly&lt;br /&gt;enjoyment&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;something terrible-great&lt;br /&gt;must've happened to my head&lt;br /&gt;to make me feel this way.&lt;br /&gt;hit by a dream&lt;br /&gt;hit with a baseball bat&lt;br /&gt;yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;feels just right&lt;br /&gt;a warm hand in the base of my back&lt;br /&gt;fingers pulling my ribcage apart&lt;br /&gt;recovering slowly&lt;br /&gt;stitching wounds closed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;healing&lt;br /&gt;muscle cramps from time&lt;br /&gt;cuts from your knife&lt;br /&gt;bliss&lt;br /&gt;endorphins flow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bite me again&lt;br /&gt;harder each time&lt;br /&gt;get closer to my bones&lt;br /&gt;i want to feel this knitting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;recovering slowly&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-7147093207746842545?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/7147093207746842545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/recovering-slowly.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/7147093207746842545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/7147093207746842545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/recovering-slowly.html' title='recovering slowly'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-5900137806570048697</id><published>2009-10-15T08:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T08:35:43.169-07:00</updated><title type='text'>birthday musings... aka i'm stupid when it gets close.</title><content type='html'>it must be near my birthday&lt;br /&gt;i'm cranky&lt;br /&gt;nor sleeping well&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hate birthdays&lt;br /&gt;birthdays mean that the past year of my life&lt;br /&gt;was probably wasted&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;spent doing something stupid&lt;br /&gt;not something that matters&lt;br /&gt;i always make bad choices&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm a goddamn pessimist on my birthday.&lt;br /&gt;i hate my birthday.&lt;br /&gt;birthdays never go right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;not never... &lt;br /&gt;just since i was old enough to have more control over them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for my sixteenth birthday&lt;br /&gt;while other kids had huge parties&lt;br /&gt;and big deals&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i took at nap&lt;br /&gt;and got pizza with my family.&lt;br /&gt;it was the best birthday ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hate the idea of people getting gifts. &lt;br /&gt;i feel like i owe them something&lt;br /&gt;more than just a thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wont remember your birthday&lt;br /&gt;i barely remember my own&lt;br /&gt;if it wasn't for people reminding me&lt;br /&gt;i would just forget it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bleh&lt;br /&gt;birthday...&lt;br /&gt;fuck it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-5900137806570048697?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/5900137806570048697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/birthday-musings-aka-im-stupid-when-it.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/5900137806570048697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/5900137806570048697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/birthday-musings-aka-im-stupid-when-it.html' title='birthday musings... aka i&apos;m stupid when it gets close.'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-4822219301431406899</id><published>2009-10-15T07:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T08:03:33.354-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Open Letter to the Cantab Lounge (Which is the venue that i've primarily heard open letter poetry) DRAFT ONE</title><content type='html'>I am in a forever state of winning you back&lt;br /&gt;Once a month it seems I have to alienate you.&lt;br /&gt;Offend you.&lt;br /&gt;Make you know,&lt;br /&gt;I do not belong here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know i don't belong here.&lt;br /&gt;I've heard your venue called&lt;br /&gt;"The best writing in the country"&lt;br /&gt;i am not to be included&lt;br /&gt;nor would i want to be&lt;br /&gt;i am too young&lt;br /&gt;too stupid&lt;br /&gt;too against your grain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am shooting fish in a barrel&lt;br /&gt;sized to be an ocean&lt;br /&gt;while you are all straight-razor shaving face&lt;br /&gt;to baby-smooth skin&lt;br /&gt;every hair removed&lt;br /&gt;a poem blowing me away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes i may hit something&lt;br /&gt;you always finish with finesse&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cantab, you are amazing&lt;br /&gt;i have never been disappointed in our short engagement&lt;br /&gt;i believe i have disappointed you&lt;br /&gt;hell i hopefully scared some of you&lt;br /&gt;with these poems that give me dagger-eyes&lt;br /&gt;these poems that give me&lt;br /&gt;the most awkward applause&lt;br /&gt;i have heard&lt;br /&gt;in my life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'll miss you&lt;br /&gt;and this game we seem to play&lt;br /&gt;where i push you all away&lt;br /&gt;and try to win you back&lt;br /&gt;maybe someday&lt;br /&gt;when i push you away&lt;br /&gt;you'll drag me down with you&lt;br /&gt;then, i'll feel fully welcome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- charlie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-4822219301431406899?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/4822219301431406899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/open-letter-to-cantab-lounge-which-is.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/4822219301431406899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/4822219301431406899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/open-letter-to-cantab-lounge-which-is.html' title='Open Letter to the Cantab Lounge (Which is the venue that i&apos;ve primarily heard open letter poetry) DRAFT ONE'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-4815969461054654369</id><published>2009-10-13T20:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T21:00:34.987-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Talk</title><content type='html'>this is role reversal at it's finest.&lt;br /&gt;with the worst timing&lt;br /&gt;my dad is giving me "the talk"&lt;br /&gt;now i said this is role reversal&lt;br /&gt;no story of birds and bees&lt;br /&gt;we've done that before&lt;br /&gt;no this is with worms&lt;br /&gt;life-prolonging machines&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my mother has MS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she recently had to do this talk&lt;br /&gt;with her mother&lt;br /&gt;my family has a habit of having to do this talk early&lt;br /&gt;but we're stubborn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my dad caught me off guard&lt;br /&gt;started the conversation&lt;br /&gt;"hey, you mind answering a couple awkward questions?"&lt;br /&gt;i figure their about sex&lt;br /&gt;or how i'm never home&lt;br /&gt;apparently always at poetry events&lt;br /&gt;the next question should not have been&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If you go active... and the worst happens. where do you want to be buried?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have never seen beautiful graveyard&lt;br /&gt;never experienced the touch of peace&lt;br /&gt;bodies laid to final rest&lt;br /&gt;no&lt;br /&gt;that was ruined when i heard diesel engine&lt;br /&gt;diggers&lt;br /&gt;lawnmowers&lt;br /&gt;this is not what i consider peace&lt;br /&gt;no gentle hands tilling land&lt;br /&gt;no smug workers smoking waiting to fill holes&lt;br /&gt;holes they know they'll occupy themselves someday&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i combat his serious statement with the same joke&lt;br /&gt;i've been telling people since my death-obsessed phase&lt;br /&gt;my tween-hood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I want to be taxidermy-ed , and kept for three generations minimum."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we share a stare, knowing that was not the ansewer...&lt;br /&gt;but my dad&lt;br /&gt;never one to let the joke end&lt;br /&gt;pops into google&lt;br /&gt;trying to find out if you can&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you can... oh boy you can...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;human taxidermy services&lt;br /&gt;they offer poses&lt;br /&gt;simple everyday things&lt;br /&gt;like waving&lt;br /&gt;to classic art poses&lt;br /&gt;like david&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we laugh... more than we should&lt;br /&gt;we are disturbed... there are testimonies&lt;br /&gt;there is a toll free number&lt;br /&gt;there is shipping information&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is for real.&lt;br /&gt;my dad asks...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"well... what pose do you want" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;without missing a beat of thought i respond&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"they offer classic poses, gimmie Karate Kid. use my hands as coat hooks, and my knee to place a table. i dont want to be wasted space"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i never want to be wasted space&lt;br /&gt;we talked about that too...&lt;br /&gt;more serious...&lt;br /&gt;cremate me&lt;br /&gt;send me to the cemetery&lt;br /&gt;let me be buried with other soldiers&lt;br /&gt;if you need a headstone&lt;br /&gt;give me something simple&lt;br /&gt;something secondhand&lt;br /&gt;with a long history&lt;br /&gt;put my initials on it&lt;br /&gt;sign it with love&lt;br /&gt;dont leave me flowers&lt;br /&gt;no need to die above me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my dad gave me the talk&lt;br /&gt;like my grandmother gave my mother&lt;br /&gt;this trend is not one i particularly like&lt;br /&gt;when i have children&lt;br /&gt;i hope they ask me the same question...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;although i doubt they'll know karate kid.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-4815969461054654369?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/4815969461054654369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/talk.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/4815969461054654369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/4815969461054654369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/talk.html' title='The Talk'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-3119967988082341037</id><published>2009-10-13T07:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T07:42:11.664-07:00</updated><title type='text'>universal assumption.</title><content type='html'>so little know, that they know so little. &lt;br /&gt;assume the universe is small. &lt;br /&gt;assume it is big. &lt;br /&gt;knowledge doesn't care.  &lt;br /&gt;it's ever expanding anyway.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-3119967988082341037?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/3119967988082341037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/universal-assumption.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/3119967988082341037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/3119967988082341037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/universal-assumption.html' title='universal assumption.'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-7611190000856377650</id><published>2009-10-11T10:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-11T10:27:29.305-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fucked up in the American Psycho sort of way</title><content type='html'>My skin always tastes salty in the morning&lt;br /&gt;you deer-founded&lt;br /&gt;lick gentle lines&lt;br /&gt;up and down my arms&lt;br /&gt;pausing at my fingers&lt;br /&gt;placing them slowly into mouth&lt;br /&gt;plush lips, gentle tongue&lt;br /&gt;you tease me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I play along&lt;br /&gt;as a good salt-lick will do&lt;br /&gt;dangling innocent&lt;br /&gt;your mouth gently pressures&lt;br /&gt;skin gives way&lt;br /&gt;you're kissing&lt;br /&gt;fixated, entrapped&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the lick is but an extension of hunter's arm&lt;br /&gt;a trap to make good sight&lt;br /&gt;deer in a headlight of violence&lt;br /&gt;rifle snug in shoulder&lt;br /&gt;inhale&lt;br /&gt;safety off&lt;br /&gt;exhale&lt;br /&gt;pull trigger&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've just lined up my sights&lt;br /&gt;no muzzle-flash yet&lt;br /&gt;we are, slow-cooking dinner&lt;br /&gt;spinning round and round&lt;br /&gt;strung across spit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we wrap arms like pythons&lt;br /&gt;suffocating in closeness&lt;br /&gt;we pass breath back and forth&lt;br /&gt;slithering skin giving soothing sensations&lt;br /&gt;stealing my strength&lt;br /&gt;I cant breathe&lt;br /&gt;you're kisses, asphyxiating &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hate being mouse&lt;br /&gt;turn tides like moon&lt;br /&gt;I flip you&lt;br /&gt;wave crashing onto shore&lt;br /&gt;storm-break&lt;br /&gt;thunder-rattle&lt;br /&gt;howl&lt;br /&gt;push-pull&lt;br /&gt;tear shoreline out&lt;br /&gt;eat land whole&lt;br /&gt;wolf-deer&lt;br /&gt;hunter-prey&lt;br /&gt;faster-faster-faster&lt;br /&gt;hurry&lt;br /&gt;make you &lt;br /&gt;make you&lt;br /&gt;make you&lt;br /&gt;make-youmakeyoumakeyou&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GOD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YES&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you scream&lt;br /&gt;this will not be the last time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;inhale&lt;br /&gt;safety off&lt;br /&gt;exhale&lt;br /&gt;pull trigger&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you're right where I want&lt;br /&gt;writhing in pleasure&lt;br /&gt;numb to the world&lt;br /&gt;you cant feel my python sliver&lt;br /&gt;snakelike embrace&lt;br /&gt;lost in ecstasy &lt;br /&gt;an awake-sleep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I crave your salt&lt;br /&gt;iron red&lt;br /&gt;grizzle &lt;br /&gt;you're my suckling pig&lt;br /&gt;so innocent&lt;br /&gt;strap you down&lt;br /&gt;slick python coils&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you lick salt&lt;br /&gt;you crave salt&lt;br /&gt;you love salt&lt;br /&gt;almost as much as you love sex&lt;br /&gt;love me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you don't&lt;br /&gt;I know&lt;br /&gt;this engagement was not for love&lt;br /&gt;it was for sex, and salt&lt;br /&gt;I am succubus&lt;br /&gt;you are victim&lt;br /&gt;deer to my salt lick&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my skin tastes salty in the morning&lt;br /&gt;but you...&lt;br /&gt;battery acid. Iron&lt;br /&gt;sweet perfume&lt;br /&gt;vanilla shampoo&lt;br /&gt;cute...&lt;br /&gt;so cute&lt;br /&gt;so cute and innocent&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;inhale&lt;br /&gt;breathe deep&lt;br /&gt;safety off&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my blade comes out&lt;br /&gt;licking lines across your arms&lt;br /&gt;pausing at fingers&lt;br /&gt;slowly pushing blade into flesh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am starving pig&lt;br /&gt;flesh in the pen&lt;br /&gt;I flash blade into surface&lt;br /&gt;wave crashing onto shore&lt;br /&gt;skin-smooth&lt;br /&gt;heart-strength&lt;br /&gt;brain&lt;br /&gt;intelligence-trading&lt;br /&gt;tupi tribe tradition&lt;br /&gt;ritual consumption&lt;br /&gt;taste-pain&lt;br /&gt;faster-faster-faster&lt;br /&gt;hurry&lt;br /&gt;make me &lt;br /&gt;make me&lt;br /&gt;make me&lt;br /&gt;make-memakememakeme&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;exhale&lt;br /&gt;pull trigger&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GOD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YES&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;your flesh satisfies&lt;br /&gt;giving me the strength to go on&lt;br /&gt;whatever you had&lt;br /&gt;is now mine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the ultimate of closeness&lt;br /&gt;two beings become one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-7611190000856377650?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/7611190000856377650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/fucked-up-in-american-psycho-sort-of.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/7611190000856377650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/7611190000856377650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/fucked-up-in-american-psycho-sort-of.html' title='Fucked up in the American Psycho sort of way'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-9193616512369600879</id><published>2009-10-08T08:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T08:15:40.165-07:00</updated><title type='text'>repetition...</title><content type='html'>leeps next to thunderclap windows. &lt;br /&gt;rattle'n'shake like a dancer on heroine. &lt;br /&gt;rattle'n'shake like a baby with keys. &lt;br /&gt;rattle'n'shake like muscles spazum. &lt;br /&gt;i'll be sleeping right there. &lt;br /&gt;soundless, &lt;br /&gt;motionless, &lt;br /&gt;with less energy to be spent &lt;br /&gt;on mindless noise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-9193616512369600879?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/9193616512369600879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/repetition.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/9193616512369600879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/9193616512369600879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/repetition.html' title='repetition...'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-5328760741333364746</id><published>2009-10-07T21:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T21:44:29.653-07:00</updated><title type='text'>spooning</title><content type='html'>old windows shake like thunder&lt;br /&gt;i think i miss you. &lt;br /&gt;come back into my life. &lt;br /&gt;i liked the way you fit in.&lt;br /&gt;it was so much better than old windows&lt;br /&gt;you didn't rattle&lt;br /&gt;or quake&lt;br /&gt;under the breeze...&lt;br /&gt;you just fit with me&lt;br /&gt;like we were in &lt;br /&gt;a silverware drawer&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-5328760741333364746?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/5328760741333364746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/spooning.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/5328760741333364746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/5328760741333364746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/spooning.html' title='spooning'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-7981052767007623728</id><published>2009-10-07T20:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T20:53:09.772-07:00</updated><title type='text'>commenting on a facebook status... imma toilet.</title><content type='html'>empty your contents&lt;br /&gt;a child too full of delicious food&lt;br /&gt;indulging till it bursts&lt;br /&gt;up, up, up, and out&lt;br /&gt;through esophagus and mouth... Read More&lt;br /&gt;give me your history&lt;br /&gt;i am the basin&lt;br /&gt;catching all your pain&lt;br /&gt;that burning feeling&lt;br /&gt;that vile smell&lt;br /&gt;that taste on your tongue&lt;br /&gt;i'll take it all&lt;br /&gt;no questions asked.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-7981052767007623728?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/7981052767007623728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/commenting-on-facebook-status-imma.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/7981052767007623728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/7981052767007623728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/commenting-on-facebook-status-imma.html' title='commenting on a facebook status... imma toilet.'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-8124946520751463725</id><published>2009-10-07T09:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T09:07:02.674-07:00</updated><title type='text'>dont speak</title><content type='html'>I should not speak. &lt;br /&gt;these words fumble out wrong. &lt;br /&gt;i'm bad news babe. &lt;br /&gt;my colors are not peacock plumage, &lt;br /&gt;but butterfly's "beware, i am poison".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-8124946520751463725?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/8124946520751463725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/dont-speak.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/8124946520751463725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/8124946520751463725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/dont-speak.html' title='dont speak'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-3587703556848038519</id><published>2009-10-06T21:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T21:05:41.617-07:00</updated><title type='text'>fly on moths</title><content type='html'>fly on a moth's wings. &lt;br /&gt;their journey is leading to somewhere... &lt;br /&gt;maybe we'll get there. &lt;br /&gt;on the muse of poets. &lt;br /&gt;celestial navigation of transverse orientation &lt;br /&gt;making bulbs become moon rays become bent. &lt;br /&gt;we spiral flight. &lt;br /&gt;fly on to the light. &lt;br /&gt;till our eyes go blind, &lt;br /&gt;till our skin burns, &lt;br /&gt;till we become nothing but dust.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-3587703556848038519?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/3587703556848038519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/fly-on-moths.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/3587703556848038519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/3587703556848038519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/fly-on-moths.html' title='fly on moths'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-4258552903260795766</id><published>2009-10-06T20:33:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T20:58:22.686-07:00</updated><title type='text'>playing with rhythm</title><content type='html'>was wondering when you'd come around tryin' t'live in uptown. giggly girl gonna-get put-up wif-stuff she don't know how to handle. pumping gas next t'a lit candle. i left this place back when i was under attack.. guess we never really leave home. guess we never really move on. guess we livin' in this town, with it's roots diggin' in deep, it's the only bit of land we need t'keep.. i'm just a shepherd without my sheep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-4258552903260795766?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/4258552903260795766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/was-wondering-when-youd-come-around.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/4258552903260795766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/4258552903260795766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/was-wondering-when-youd-come-around.html' title='playing with rhythm'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-6872187562460110699</id><published>2009-10-06T19:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T19:41:56.856-07:00</updated><title type='text'>meteor sleep</title><content type='html'>I hit the pillow like meteor shower. &lt;br /&gt;wrap blankets of smoke and dust &lt;br /&gt;let the rain slip sediment slowly down &lt;br /&gt;bringing the soft embrace of earth. &lt;br /&gt;dig me up years from now. &lt;br /&gt;use my resources. &lt;br /&gt;i give them to you freely. &lt;br /&gt;stripme of all i have to offer. &lt;br /&gt;you deserve more than that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-6872187562460110699?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/6872187562460110699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/meteor-sleep.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/6872187562460110699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/6872187562460110699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/meteor-sleep.html' title='meteor sleep'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-8881940647231803276</id><published>2009-10-05T08:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T08:36:43.271-07:00</updated><title type='text'>10/3 Workshop Title Game (title thanks to Martha): Broken Pennies</title><content type='html'>I used to be copper&lt;br /&gt;shined&lt;br /&gt;lucky&lt;br /&gt;with value&lt;br /&gt;people placed their dreams in me&lt;br /&gt;"Of course you can get it...&lt;br /&gt;just save your pennies"&lt;br /&gt;there were stores&lt;br /&gt;where i was the currency of choice&lt;br /&gt;excited children&lt;br /&gt;trading shiny copper for candy&lt;br /&gt;Now&lt;br /&gt;I am more zinc&lt;br /&gt;not enough copper to count&lt;br /&gt;place flame under me&lt;br /&gt;I do not glow blue&lt;br /&gt;Do not give off beautiful hue&lt;br /&gt;I just melt away inside...&lt;br /&gt;my shell&lt;br /&gt;crumpled&lt;br /&gt;broken&lt;br /&gt;No one saves me but collectors and couch cushions&lt;br /&gt;left laying on the street&lt;br /&gt;i think my luck is running out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-8881940647231803276?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/8881940647231803276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/103-workshop-title-game-title-thanks-to.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/8881940647231803276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/8881940647231803276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/103-workshop-title-game-title-thanks-to.html' title='10/3 Workshop Title Game (title thanks to Martha): Broken Pennies'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-8696336205382776748</id><published>2009-10-04T07:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T07:19:18.352-07:00</updated><title type='text'>owwie</title><content type='html'>fall rain on the cheek brings the feeling of your fingertips further into my chest.&lt;br /&gt;dig deep into me. &lt;br /&gt;pull out my lungs. &lt;br /&gt;you are all the breath i need. &lt;br /&gt;the frozen night air will keep my organs fresh as you rip and pull. &lt;br /&gt;feel the strands of muscle ache and stretch towards you. &lt;br /&gt;i want to wrap my arms around your neck &lt;br /&gt;let you gaze down into the cavity you've dug for yourself. &lt;br /&gt;are you proud of your handiwork?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it is not going to go away.&lt;br /&gt;this wound is fatal&lt;br /&gt;so climb in quick&lt;br /&gt;before i pass on&lt;br /&gt;unable to feel you&lt;br /&gt;under my skin&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-8696336205382776748?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/8696336205382776748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/owwie.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/8696336205382776748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/8696336205382776748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/owwie.html' title='owwie'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-7833327813855311545</id><published>2009-10-02T09:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-02T09:33:09.013-07:00</updated><title type='text'>poetry... slam... prep... poem?</title><content type='html'>clothe me in armor as i sleep. &lt;br /&gt;tomorrow i must be ready for fighting. &lt;br /&gt;sharpen my battle-blade, my silver tongue. &lt;br /&gt;it flicks back and forth across my foes, &lt;br /&gt;bringing fear up to their faces &lt;br /&gt;all the way from their toes. &lt;br /&gt;i call them out to single combat. &lt;br /&gt;the way kings avoided bloody war. &lt;br /&gt;the life-wine has been flowing. &lt;br /&gt;you're already drunk. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;while i'm growing diamond-skin. &lt;br /&gt;for i lay in the courage-maker. &lt;br /&gt;you ready for me now?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-7833327813855311545?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/7833327813855311545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/poetry-slam-prep-poem.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/7833327813855311545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/7833327813855311545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/poetry-slam-prep-poem.html' title='poetry... slam... prep... poem?'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-4758869026273534897</id><published>2009-10-01T09:06:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T09:06:25.973-07:00</updated><title type='text'>before i sleep yet again</title><content type='html'>my bed is cold tonight... but the words of greater people than i warm my soul. it will not stay cold forever. these convection currents flow round me in swirling motions. i let it radiate off as i hold you tight. the heat we bring flowing out into the rest of the world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-4758869026273534897?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/4758869026273534897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/before-i-sleep-yet-again.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/4758869026273534897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/4758869026273534897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/10/before-i-sleep-yet-again.html' title='before i sleep yet again'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-554738165676847533</id><published>2009-09-30T06:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-30T06:10:10.131-07:00</updated><title type='text'>sleep-song</title><content type='html'>sleep quietly... so i can hear what you've been trying to tell me all along. through your pipe-organ, your chest-drum, let me hear your message in my ears. i watch the music rise and fall with your skin. if only i could translate it... the story unknown to all but the sleepers.&lt;br /&gt;if only i could sleep and sing along with your chorus.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-554738165676847533?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/554738165676847533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/sleep-song.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/554738165676847533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/554738165676847533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/sleep-song.html' title='sleep-song'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-1467663772436546366</id><published>2009-09-29T10:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-29T10:04:21.001-07:00</updated><title type='text'>facebook status lines yet again</title><content type='html'>left the pillows the way my pug dog likes to sleep on them. &lt;br /&gt;he nuzzles and pushes them around creating a nest to sleep in. &lt;br /&gt;i wish i had a nest. &lt;br /&gt;a place to roost. &lt;br /&gt;collected with pieces of life i hunt for day and night. &lt;br /&gt;i guess my memories must suffice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-1467663772436546366?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/1467663772436546366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/facebook-status-lines-yet-again.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/1467663772436546366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/1467663772436546366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/facebook-status-lines-yet-again.html' title='facebook status lines yet again'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-1448761795088794587</id><published>2009-09-28T21:12:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T21:20:15.691-07:00</updated><title type='text'>long night... goodnight</title><content type='html'>you called me shortsighted...&lt;br /&gt;i guess i need glasses&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you say the word "detached" so often...&lt;br /&gt;i am not tree sap&lt;br /&gt;i am not crazy glue&lt;br /&gt;i am not adhesive&lt;br /&gt;i do not attach and stick&lt;br /&gt;i am claw&lt;br /&gt;i am quarter-driven prize game&lt;br /&gt;i grip and release&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so easily done&lt;br /&gt;its the same exact motion&lt;br /&gt;backwards in my heart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i thought i had shared enough of my life&lt;br /&gt;to let you know it was all my choice&lt;br /&gt;i am a creature of choices&lt;br /&gt;emotions pull and push them in directions&lt;br /&gt;but there always comes a fated yes or no&lt;br /&gt;clear-cut question for me to choose&lt;br /&gt;beneath all those options&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think i could choose to fall in love with you&lt;br /&gt;i think i could choose to completely ignore your existence&lt;br /&gt;i think i'm choosing the middle ground&lt;br /&gt;we're friends&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;enjoy it.&lt;br /&gt;i stick with my choices.&lt;br /&gt;i made them so i live with them&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-1448761795088794587?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/1448761795088794587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/long-night-goodnight.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/1448761795088794587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/1448761795088794587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/long-night-goodnight.html' title='long night... goodnight'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-5096833594014655020</id><published>2009-09-28T08:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T09:23:43.546-07:00</updated><title type='text'>remember to vote every election</title><content type='html'>immediate way of making charlie feel slightly uncomfortable. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"why did you want to do the whole military thing?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there is no good way to answer this question&lt;br /&gt;there is no simple answer i can give you&lt;br /&gt;there are so many reasons&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;have you ever spent time&lt;br /&gt;trusting the person next to you&lt;br /&gt;with your life&lt;br /&gt;while also knowing&lt;br /&gt;you want to beat them&lt;br /&gt;to be better in everything&lt;br /&gt;you both do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;have you ever grabbed hold of a community&lt;br /&gt;this elite club&lt;br /&gt;of experiences most people never have&lt;br /&gt;some people never want&lt;br /&gt;many people couldn't handle?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;have you ever risked your life for something you didn't believe in,&lt;br /&gt;follow a leader you didn't trust,&lt;br /&gt;but followed anyway still feeling you've done the right thing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;have you seen man create thunder and fire&lt;br /&gt;bring down destruction upon mother earth&lt;br /&gt;and know at the end of the day&lt;br /&gt;the men responsible&lt;br /&gt;just pray to finish this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i haven't yet...&lt;br /&gt;i am not some kind of phony&lt;br /&gt;playing like i know these hardships&lt;br /&gt;these are just some of what i'm trying to prepare for&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;education... supported, encouraged, to use the benefits&lt;br /&gt;there are many&lt;br /&gt;smart soldiers are better soldiers&lt;br /&gt;they can think&lt;br /&gt;problem solve&lt;br /&gt;get outside the box&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want an education&lt;br /&gt;it's a secondary thought&lt;br /&gt;but there all the same&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;uniform... admired, honored, to be part of history&lt;br /&gt;mine will be sexy&lt;br /&gt;but eventually will hold a living memorial&lt;br /&gt;for all those lost before&lt;br /&gt;blood stripe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;history doesn't remember many of the war heroes&lt;br /&gt;there is no single man running forth&lt;br /&gt;stupid brave&lt;br /&gt;trying to do what he thinks is right&lt;br /&gt;perhaps paying the price of his actions&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want to be there&lt;br /&gt;if not in his place&lt;br /&gt;then to tell about it&lt;br /&gt;to let people know&lt;br /&gt;that man was a hero&lt;br /&gt;we should remember him&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i cant do that from home...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You realize this is a time of war, a war about oil."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we have been in a state of war since i was 10 or 11 years old&lt;br /&gt;we were attacked&lt;br /&gt;then started a war on terror, an emotion&lt;br /&gt;started a war you cant win&lt;br /&gt;because there is no land to conquer &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it is foolish for me to say&lt;br /&gt;war is ever about anything more than money&lt;br /&gt;whether it is gaining freedom from unfair taxes&lt;br /&gt;protecting our trade routes&lt;br /&gt;getting foreign powers to owe us&lt;br /&gt;or retaliation&lt;br /&gt;our country works well in war.&lt;br /&gt;it's such a part of our history&lt;br /&gt;this is how we became a power&lt;br /&gt;everything else was so destroyed you could barely live&lt;br /&gt;could barely function&lt;br /&gt;we were fine.&lt;br /&gt;loosing so many soldiers but not an inch of land&lt;br /&gt;not an inch of natural resource stripped away by foreign hand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but sometimes war can save people&lt;br /&gt;sometimes atrocities are being committed&lt;br /&gt;there are victims who need our help&lt;br /&gt;we put ourselves as a world leader&lt;br /&gt;that's our job...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you demand the end to genocides&lt;br /&gt;you demand the stop to tyranny&lt;br /&gt;you want it done without bloodshed&lt;br /&gt;but we've lost are bargaining chips&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hear of children being forced to fight&lt;br /&gt;to kill&lt;br /&gt;to rape&lt;br /&gt;to murder&lt;br /&gt;all for the hopes of staying alive&lt;br /&gt;to see the end of this atrocious warfare&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hear of rulers having utmost control of their people&lt;br /&gt;of freedoms we take for granted stripped away&lt;br /&gt;of equality being a fleeting dream instead of a fight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hear calls for action&lt;br /&gt;are you willing to go yourself?&lt;br /&gt;those of you who wish to see change&lt;br /&gt;who among you is prepared to fight for it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you don't have to.&lt;br /&gt;this is why i want to fight&lt;br /&gt;not for some war in a desert over oil&lt;br /&gt;not for some idea of revenge&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we're currently in a recession&lt;br /&gt;bordering on something far worse&lt;br /&gt;the last time this happened&lt;br /&gt;a country with all the costs of a world war&lt;br /&gt;held above its head like a noose&lt;br /&gt;rose up with an insane madman&lt;br /&gt;who grabbed control to the fullest&lt;br /&gt;abused every power&lt;br /&gt;the last time this happened&lt;br /&gt;revolutionaries became corrupt&lt;br /&gt;weeding out their own intellect in paranoia&lt;br /&gt;shedding blood&lt;br /&gt;switching the sides of war to better choose a winner&lt;br /&gt;the last time this happened&lt;br /&gt;there was a war&lt;br /&gt;from sea to sea&lt;br /&gt;battles raging from island jungles to city doorsteps&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm ready to fight that war&lt;br /&gt;the next war&lt;br /&gt;the war that brings fear home&lt;br /&gt;that makes you remember what we have&lt;br /&gt;makes you grow a victory garden&lt;br /&gt;shed your nylon stockings to make sure we have parachutes&lt;br /&gt;donate blood as often as you can&lt;br /&gt;the war that makes you glad to have rationing&lt;br /&gt;ends american obesity because winning this war is more important than indulging, there are hungry who need that food more elsewhere&lt;br /&gt;ends american ignorance because the enemy you understand is the enemy you create peace with, peace is the aftermath of war&lt;br /&gt;ends american stupidity by making the unemployment rate drop&lt;br /&gt;those who work, are not stupid&lt;br /&gt;they have a skill&lt;br /&gt;those who cannot work, have not found a job they can do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want to be ready for that war&lt;br /&gt;the war that even those who feel they can do nothing&lt;br /&gt;get told at last they are useful&lt;br /&gt;get told at last they can help&lt;br /&gt;no matter what condition they are in&lt;br /&gt;"send them letters of support...&lt;br /&gt;just help your neighbor...&lt;br /&gt;just read these books... &lt;br /&gt;just look and listen...&lt;br /&gt;tell us your thoughts...&lt;br /&gt;pray...&lt;br /&gt;we're all in this together.&lt;br /&gt;equally responsible&lt;br /&gt;equally valuable&lt;br /&gt;every man woman and child&lt;br /&gt;no matter the race, orientation, or class."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yes i want to be ready for the next war&lt;br /&gt;the big war&lt;br /&gt;the one fought with more planes and robots than men with guns&lt;br /&gt;the one fought like operating on a surgical slab with a million scalpels &lt;br /&gt;instead of playing red rover&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i live in this idea&lt;br /&gt;that war could come in my lifetime&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;part of me wants it to come&lt;br /&gt;because at least it would bring change&lt;br /&gt;big wars always do...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;part of me wants it to come&lt;br /&gt;i would not want to have my progeny fight battles&lt;br /&gt;that i would gladly fight for them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i know you don't ask these questions attacking my choices&lt;br /&gt;even when sometimes... you do...&lt;br /&gt;i thank you for you're support and well wishing&lt;br /&gt;i'll be ok&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just remember that we live in America&lt;br /&gt;please vote...&lt;br /&gt;there is a civilian in charge of our military&lt;br /&gt;you elect them&lt;br /&gt;we elect them&lt;br /&gt;choose leaders who know how to handle war&lt;br /&gt;not just make promises of removing troops&lt;br /&gt;not make promises to "get our boys home"&lt;br /&gt;they know their job&lt;br /&gt;they know the risks&lt;br /&gt;end the war&lt;br /&gt;by winning, or quitting&lt;br /&gt;elect leaders who end wars&lt;br /&gt;not ones who maintain them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm willing to fight the battles&lt;br /&gt;you should be willing to get leaders&lt;br /&gt;who pick good ones.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-5096833594014655020?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/5096833594014655020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/remember-to-vote-every-election.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/5096833594014655020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/5096833594014655020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/remember-to-vote-every-election.html' title='remember to vote every election'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-8660048808949077956</id><published>2009-09-25T21:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T21:15:25.246-07:00</updated><title type='text'>this is what i think of when i think about the future</title><content type='html'>dreams of drill instructors and wakeups at ungodly hours. &lt;br /&gt;dreams of hoarse voices breaking and squeaking with screams. &lt;br /&gt;dreams of saving and protecting. &lt;br /&gt;dreams of mental scars. &lt;br /&gt;dreams of homelessness.&lt;br /&gt;dreams of drinking. &lt;br /&gt;dreams of chaos. &lt;br /&gt;dreams of war. &lt;br /&gt;dreams of sleeping under the same stars as you, &lt;br /&gt;but the sun is shining where you are, &lt;br /&gt;you cant see them. &lt;br /&gt;it's ok. &lt;br /&gt;i'll map them out and give them to you when i come home. &lt;br /&gt;the bad comes with the good. &lt;br /&gt;i want this.&lt;br /&gt;it's good for me.&lt;br /&gt;i want it. &lt;br /&gt;bad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-8660048808949077956?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/8660048808949077956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/this-is-what-i-think-of-when-i-think.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/8660048808949077956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/8660048808949077956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/this-is-what-i-think-of-when-i-think.html' title='this is what i think of when i think about the future'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-138181029750761571</id><published>2009-09-25T20:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T20:48:36.052-07:00</updated><title type='text'>apology.</title><content type='html'>it's like the time i was climbing to a cliff with my step dad&lt;br /&gt;when i was young i would speak without thinking&lt;br /&gt;feeling awkward&lt;br /&gt;i started the day saying something&lt;br /&gt;i dont remember what...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm not exactly old&lt;br /&gt;hell i'm barely adult&lt;br /&gt;more child than i'd care to admit&lt;br /&gt;i still speak without thinking&lt;br /&gt;the awkwardness is worse now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've always been offensive&lt;br /&gt;normally it's all joking&lt;br /&gt;this is because when i actually want to offend&lt;br /&gt;i want you to take it as a joke&lt;br /&gt;i dont want to offend&lt;br /&gt;i'm just offensive&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;not defensive&lt;br /&gt;because the best defense&lt;br /&gt;is a good offense&lt;br /&gt;i'm so offensive&lt;br /&gt;nothing could slip past me anyway&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm cocky&lt;br /&gt;i think it only takes a second to know me&lt;br /&gt;i think i wear everything on my face&lt;br /&gt;my past&lt;br /&gt;my present&lt;br /&gt;my future&lt;br /&gt;cant you just look at my face and see it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm wrong of course&lt;br /&gt;i'm wrong a lot&lt;br /&gt;like when i was climbing to a cliff&lt;br /&gt;if i had been taller&lt;br /&gt;it would've been hiking&lt;br /&gt;but i was young&lt;br /&gt;it was climbing a mountain&lt;br /&gt;there was a rope to hold onto&lt;br /&gt;we climbed for what seemed like eternity&lt;br /&gt;in silence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we ate sandwiches and chips and grapes&lt;br /&gt;at the top&lt;br /&gt;staring into beauty&lt;br /&gt;in silence&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we inhaled&lt;br /&gt;he told me a story i dont remember&lt;br /&gt;then we took a picture&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;remembering it is like a silent movie&lt;br /&gt;i fill in the audio myself&lt;br /&gt;things i wish i had said&lt;br /&gt;things i should've asked&lt;br /&gt;just to get perspective&lt;br /&gt;just to know more&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just to remember with another sense than my eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you, you i remember with more than just my eyes&lt;br /&gt;i opened you up with my offense &lt;br /&gt;tore down your walls &lt;br /&gt;jumped off the cliff of decency&lt;br /&gt;left us feeling&lt;br /&gt;awkward&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so now i'm climbing back up the mountain&lt;br /&gt;i'm small, it's large&lt;br /&gt;i dont know if i'll make it&lt;br /&gt;i'll just climb&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-138181029750761571?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/138181029750761571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/apology.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/138181029750761571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/138181029750761571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/apology.html' title='apology.'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-1947362435671269962</id><published>2009-09-23T23:12:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-23T23:28:37.593-07:00</updated><title type='text'>twos</title><content type='html'>i almost ran over two skunks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i had been going to west for something like two months&lt;br /&gt;it was not a long length of time&lt;br /&gt;most people didn't know my name&lt;br /&gt;i was walking down my alley&lt;br /&gt;no more than ten feet away&lt;br /&gt;black, white, furry&lt;br /&gt;plodding&lt;br /&gt;i stopped&lt;br /&gt;it stopped&lt;br /&gt;we stopped&lt;br /&gt;he sprayed&lt;br /&gt;then ran&lt;br /&gt;i walked away&lt;br /&gt;frustrated&lt;br /&gt;i hate school&lt;br /&gt;i hate school a lot&lt;br /&gt;but i was already on my way&lt;br /&gt;so who cared if i had the remnants of skunk smell?&lt;br /&gt;surely i wasn't the only one this had happened to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hate school more when i smell like skunk&lt;br /&gt;separated in classrooms&lt;br /&gt;asked over and over&lt;br /&gt;why i didn't just go home&lt;br /&gt;my parents were working&lt;br /&gt;i didn't want to inconvenience them.&lt;br /&gt;i didn't want to miss my classes&lt;br /&gt;falling behind more than i was already&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i guess its one of the differences&lt;br /&gt;between small town or city schools&lt;br /&gt;in a small town&lt;br /&gt;everyone would have known my name&lt;br /&gt;in the city school&lt;br /&gt;people forgot in a week&lt;br /&gt;if they noticed at all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;some people still remember&lt;br /&gt;i do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hate skunks.&lt;br /&gt;they live underneath my porch in winter&lt;br /&gt;they spray my house&lt;br /&gt;it smells like skunk&lt;br /&gt;for half the winter months&lt;br /&gt;usually&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we hopefully put a stop to that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at seven eleven i saw two deaf men signing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wish i understood what their wordless talk means&lt;br /&gt;i do not speak hands&lt;br /&gt;i do not speak feeling&lt;br /&gt;i only speak with one language&lt;br /&gt;this one&lt;br /&gt;i am ignorant&lt;br /&gt;i am sorry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i joke and say i speak enough spanish to get me in trouble&lt;br /&gt;this is untrue&lt;br /&gt;i speak enough spanish for them to understand i don't know shit&lt;br /&gt;i speak enough spanish that i can get the old man to open doors for me&lt;br /&gt;i can speak enough spanish to know&lt;br /&gt;it isnt spoken in Bolivia. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i saw a man being sobriety tested by two cops&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it made me think about how i treat women&lt;br /&gt;lots of things make me think about how i treat women&lt;br /&gt;lots of things make me feel stupid&lt;br /&gt;i treat women stupid&lt;br /&gt;i know this&lt;br /&gt;i was born with stupid ways to treat women&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am amazed i've ever gotten laid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've always had the feeling underneath all this "gentleman" behavior&lt;br /&gt;i'm that douchebag you wanted to beat up in highschool&lt;br /&gt;using women&lt;br /&gt;i used to say it was accidental&lt;br /&gt;i didnt mean to hurt anyone&lt;br /&gt;this is irresponsible&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i dont treat women like i do men&lt;br /&gt;i dont want women to treat me like they do women&lt;br /&gt;because i want other things from them&lt;br /&gt;comfort&lt;br /&gt;closeness&lt;br /&gt;contact&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;charlie...&lt;br /&gt;you treat women stupid.&lt;br /&gt;this is why your relationships fail&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you know this deep down&lt;br /&gt;it saddens you.&lt;br /&gt;when sad&lt;br /&gt;you treat women stupid&lt;br /&gt;flirt more direct&lt;br /&gt;dirtier comments&lt;br /&gt;you want to get smacked down&lt;br /&gt;have someone force you to change&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you cant change on your own&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that's how you found the military&lt;br /&gt;wasn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;only you... only I...&lt;br /&gt;would know. &lt;br /&gt;weird isnt it&lt;br /&gt;that you've forgotten the original reason.&lt;br /&gt;now that you've committed.&lt;br /&gt;you have so many more&lt;br /&gt;but not that first original&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you were never original.&lt;br /&gt;you just try to be.&lt;br /&gt;after awhile it's all lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thats why you excuse it with theories&lt;br /&gt;"the stronger i get, the more i hate my poetry"&lt;br /&gt;"the more powerful i seem to be, the dumber i seem to get"&lt;br /&gt;"the better i see the less i hear"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;excuses&lt;br /&gt;ridiculousness&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have two eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eyes are the windows to the soul&lt;br /&gt;i only need one to show you my soul&lt;br /&gt;the other eye has been useless other than making depth&lt;br /&gt;it holds another soul&lt;br /&gt;one less important&lt;br /&gt;the one that got away&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-1947362435671269962?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/1947362435671269962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/twos.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/1947362435671269962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/1947362435671269962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/twos.html' title='twos'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-2939986549120364093</id><published>2009-09-22T21:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-22T21:46:05.129-07:00</updated><title type='text'>le sigh</title><content type='html'>he knows that now and again he has moments where he just wants to shut off from the world. someday he will live alone and this desire will overpower him. when someone who places his soul on the scales for judgment daily, places it within a dark box, can he bring it out again the same? i don't know. chances are life will never let us find out. never a dull moment. never have gone a day without interaction with someone else. any insight? not from me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-2939986549120364093?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/2939986549120364093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/le-sigh.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/2939986549120364093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/2939986549120364093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/le-sigh.html' title='le sigh'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-1397635071008186467</id><published>2009-09-22T08:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-22T08:32:24.891-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i miss you</title><content type='html'>I wonder when my bed will feel less lonely, and more like coming home. &lt;br /&gt;it's arms always welcome me but it never feels as comfortable as your arms. &lt;br /&gt;i miss you. &lt;br /&gt;come home. &lt;br /&gt;lie to me through my dreams. &lt;br /&gt;let me think your home is my home so we can get lost in our own house. &lt;br /&gt;lead me through these lying dreams. &lt;br /&gt;the truth of the matter is, &lt;br /&gt;i must sleep, &lt;br /&gt;whether it feels like home, &lt;br /&gt;or not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-1397635071008186467?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/1397635071008186467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-miss-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/1397635071008186467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/1397635071008186467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-miss-you.html' title='i miss you'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-7242820832123218815</id><published>2009-09-22T08:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-22T08:31:09.845-07:00</updated><title type='text'>rub a dub in a tub</title><content type='html'>she sits in a tub too shallow to soak, water covers muscles like soft hands, warm to the touch, warm inside and out. the body is not completely covered. there are always spots left. cold.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-7242820832123218815?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/7242820832123218815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/rub-dub-in-tub.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/7242820832123218815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/7242820832123218815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/rub-dub-in-tub.html' title='rub a dub in a tub'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-6020393290241763131</id><published>2009-09-21T19:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T19:34:55.660-07:00</updated><title type='text'>little erotica... the adult warning needs a reason dammit</title><content type='html'>i am the crystal blue water on the shorelines of your heart. &lt;br /&gt;clawing my way towards you, &lt;br /&gt;but the sand just pulls out loose from underneath my fingertips. &lt;br /&gt;it will be alright. &lt;br /&gt;my water levels are rising. &lt;br /&gt;i am patient. &lt;br /&gt;i'll reach you someday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when the icecaps melt&lt;br /&gt;the sands pull away&lt;br /&gt;leaving your stone underbelly exposed&lt;br /&gt;i'll slip in between the cracks&lt;br /&gt;fill you up&lt;br /&gt;explore every crevice&lt;br /&gt;until we are one&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-6020393290241763131?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/6020393290241763131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/little-erotica-adult-warning-needs.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/6020393290241763131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/6020393290241763131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/little-erotica-adult-warning-needs.html' title='little erotica... the adult warning needs a reason dammit'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-6907163493977888418</id><published>2009-09-17T12:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-17T12:32:06.001-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>when all has fled and gone away, i'm left thinking yesterday, a day where I was better, all i have now is this letter. you asked me for a poem. i never responded. i had no clue what to write for you. i apologize.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-6907163493977888418?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/6907163493977888418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/when-all-has-fled-and-gone-away-im-left.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/6907163493977888418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/6907163493977888418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/when-all-has-fled-and-gone-away-im-left.html' title=''/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-250993976966905258</id><published>2009-09-17T09:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-17T12:33:39.396-07:00</updated><title type='text'>greh... cant focus on this.</title><content type='html'>The Wiggin Family produced exceptional children&lt;br /&gt;Each graced with above genius intelligence&lt;br /&gt;an understanding better than adults on the world&lt;br /&gt;more manipulative than the most ruthless brigand&lt;br /&gt;They were amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first Wiggin Child, Peter&lt;br /&gt;Cunning, Ruthless&lt;br /&gt;Violent&lt;br /&gt;so very violent&lt;br /&gt;Dissecting squirrels in the woods&lt;br /&gt;always threatening to kill his siblings&lt;br /&gt;Iron Fist Ruler&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Second, Valentine&lt;br /&gt;tender, loving&lt;br /&gt;motherly&lt;br /&gt;always protecting&lt;br /&gt;keeping Andrew safe from his brother&lt;br /&gt;Always threatening to expose Peter's ways&lt;br /&gt;Wise Little Woman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andrew Wiggin &lt;br /&gt;was born to save the world.&lt;br /&gt;A third child in the time where two was a privilege&lt;br /&gt;Secretly Baptized when religion was not allowed&lt;br /&gt;He was the Perfect balance of ruthless and loving&lt;br /&gt;Having the ability to see the ripples of reaction&lt;br /&gt;for every drop of action &lt;br /&gt;on the still waters of life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andrew Wiggin&lt;br /&gt;was called Ender by his siblings&lt;br /&gt;Foreshadowing his future&lt;br /&gt;for he ended the need of a savior&lt;br /&gt;ended 3 lives as a child &lt;br /&gt;ended traditions of a battle school&lt;br /&gt;ended the war&lt;br /&gt;ended a species&lt;br /&gt;ended a woman's loneliness&lt;br /&gt;ended the suffering of a family&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andrew was taken young&lt;br /&gt;into space&lt;br /&gt;ripped from the norm&lt;br /&gt;with other children&lt;br /&gt;thirsting war&lt;br /&gt;while he just wanted to live&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-250993976966905258?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/250993976966905258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/greh-cant-focus-on-this.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/250993976966905258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/250993976966905258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/greh-cant-focus-on-this.html' title='greh... cant focus on this.'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-8570454099204693872</id><published>2009-09-17T00:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-17T00:16:31.091-07:00</updated><title type='text'>passive aggressive much?</title><content type='html'>I hear you calling my name. i am mountain. you, ocean. i have no cliffs to meet you. nothing but rivers and wind to carry our messages. i cannot appreciate your waves breaking upon stony shores as you claw the land to get me. just shut the fuck up. mountains are solitary. i want to go back to sleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-8570454099204693872?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/8570454099204693872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/passive-aggressive-much.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/8570454099204693872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/8570454099204693872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/passive-aggressive-much.html' title='passive aggressive much?'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-2237709797677783065</id><published>2009-09-16T07:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-16T08:00:38.805-07:00</updated><title type='text'>frusteration</title><content type='html'>every now and again i need to remind people that i may be a poet, but there's a goddamn reason i'm joining the military. i can be as hard and cold as the steel in a saber when needed. being a poet means i can cut you with the eloquent edge of words far before i even need to draw arms against you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-2237709797677783065?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/2237709797677783065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/frusteration.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/2237709797677783065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/2237709797677783065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/frusteration.html' title='frusteration'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-7962313687069907420</id><published>2009-09-16T07:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-16T07:58:57.010-07:00</updated><title type='text'>screwdriver impact</title><content type='html'>I shatter your dream of me. &lt;br /&gt;screwdriver impact. &lt;br /&gt;feel it wedge between your ribs and heart. &lt;br /&gt;seperating. &lt;br /&gt;feel it pulse. &lt;br /&gt;th-thump, th-thump, th-thump, th-this is what you need to understand. &lt;br /&gt;my heart has fingers that reach out when i fall in love. &lt;br /&gt;my heart wont grow shoulders for you to sit. &lt;br /&gt;it wont carry you. &lt;br /&gt;dream of something else&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-7962313687069907420?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/7962313687069907420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/screwdriver-impact.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/7962313687069907420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/7962313687069907420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/screwdriver-impact.html' title='screwdriver impact'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-4579482978663591232</id><published>2009-09-14T22:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T22:48:14.714-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a line not wasted: Synthetic Seraphim</title><content type='html'>Synthetic Seraphim sneaking sunset's fingertips through the blinds on my window&lt;br /&gt;i lie in bed wondering if this is the end for me&lt;br /&gt;burning creatures enter singing praises to technology&lt;br /&gt;science&lt;br /&gt;no room in the world for magic anymore&lt;br /&gt;no room for regular angels&lt;br /&gt;commercialized views with wings&lt;br /&gt;white robes&lt;br /&gt;halos&lt;br /&gt;singing songs&lt;br /&gt;guiding hands&lt;br /&gt;i was not anything of the sort&lt;br /&gt;i was fire burning&lt;br /&gt;i was praising the almighty in songs too old for you to understand&lt;br /&gt;i was praising him because it was all i knew how to do&lt;br /&gt;not made with free will i could not create&lt;br /&gt;i could not choose to do anything but sing&lt;br /&gt;sing and burn alive with holy fire&lt;br /&gt;hot enough to baptize in just the light of it&lt;br /&gt;synthetic seraphim bring the light in through the blinds on my window&lt;br /&gt;ripping open the wings i have long since hidden&lt;br /&gt;flames extinguished&lt;br /&gt;the light is there to let me know the dream has ended&lt;br /&gt;i shall sing no more his praises&lt;br /&gt;i shall never get to burn again&lt;br /&gt;synthetic seraphim sing praises to technology&lt;br /&gt;science&lt;br /&gt;dreams have died with me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-4579482978663591232?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/4579482978663591232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/line-not-wasted-synthetic-seraphim.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/4579482978663591232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/4579482978663591232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/line-not-wasted-synthetic-seraphim.html' title='a line not wasted: Synthetic Seraphim'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-8946236768756824666</id><published>2009-09-14T21:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T22:05:17.852-07:00</updated><title type='text'>seraphim skies</title><content type='html'>I lay under seraphim skies &lt;br /&gt;wondering if their song for the almighty &lt;br /&gt;reaches my rough edges and smooths them &lt;br /&gt;How i wish to see six winged wonders stand before me &lt;br /&gt;Let me see under wings that cover feet and eye &lt;br /&gt;walk together to the destination of dreams &lt;br /&gt;see clearly &lt;br /&gt;Such vivid imaginations for skies filled with burning voices for the almighty &lt;br /&gt;Can he not spare one of you to journey with me?&lt;br /&gt;Can I not see clearly the destination of dreams?&lt;br /&gt;Can I not look you in the eye?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;of course not.&lt;br /&gt;your wings are hiding them&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-8946236768756824666?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/8946236768756824666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/seraphim-skies.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/8946236768756824666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/8946236768756824666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/seraphim-skies.html' title='seraphim skies'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-105416437706990366</id><published>2009-09-11T05:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-11T05:42:28.592-07:00</updated><title type='text'>sleeping on streets</title><content type='html'>i would sleep on streets just to say he was coming home. &lt;br /&gt;i never felt more alive than when i fell asleep &lt;br /&gt;legs draped over my bike underneath the summer sun. &lt;br /&gt;by the bay a little off the road near a bench but not on it. &lt;br /&gt;i was wondering what to say to you...&lt;br /&gt;i was dreaming of calling home your arms. &lt;br /&gt;instead i found home on hard cement. &lt;br /&gt;it is beautiful in the fact that it splits and cracks like my heart,&lt;br /&gt;fixed by patch, dirt, a new layer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;covering all the old wounds&lt;br /&gt;covering the holes dug in&lt;br /&gt;for your sewage pits&lt;br /&gt;for your curbing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;like my heart&lt;br /&gt;the streets have cracks from constant pressure&lt;br /&gt;from heating and cooling passions&lt;br /&gt;from ice&lt;br /&gt;slowly trickling in by way of water&lt;br /&gt;and freezing&lt;br /&gt;separating and breaking&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my bike tires are bent from hugging the road&lt;br /&gt;trying to get every degree to touch&lt;br /&gt;every inch of my heart&lt;br /&gt;getting closer to myself&lt;br /&gt;through running it over&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my bike isn't very smart&lt;br /&gt;but at least he's trying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my feet&lt;br /&gt;wear shoes because it knows&lt;br /&gt;touching my heart would do them damage&lt;br /&gt;my heart takes up all the refuse&lt;br /&gt;your needles&lt;br /&gt;your glass&lt;br /&gt;but along with the refuse&lt;br /&gt;it allows nature to burst through&lt;br /&gt;flowers&lt;br /&gt;weeds&lt;br /&gt;trees&lt;br /&gt;grass&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this makes sidewalks look crappy&lt;br /&gt;but the sidewalk should know better&lt;br /&gt;than to separate my heart&lt;br /&gt;from my feet&lt;br /&gt;we're the same body&lt;br /&gt;we're supposed to touch&lt;br /&gt;even if it's through shoes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-105416437706990366?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/105416437706990366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/sleeping-on-streets.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/105416437706990366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/105416437706990366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/sleeping-on-streets.html' title='sleeping on streets'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-6827870319198609904</id><published>2009-09-11T05:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-11T05:36:08.983-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ughhhh... cant see where i want to go with this one...</title><content type='html'>I want to feel your river flow off my head and down my spine, &lt;br /&gt;hit the ground grow the vine &lt;br /&gt;because nothing could be more divine &lt;br /&gt;than you're spirits making me feel so fine &lt;br /&gt;all i want to do is call you mine... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i have never been so selfish to presume &lt;br /&gt;that i was the only one looking for you in the room&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[attempt 1: moon and water]&lt;br /&gt;you're capable of so much&lt;br /&gt;and i can't hold you&lt;br /&gt;my meteor cracked surface&lt;br /&gt;can pull and push the tide&lt;br /&gt;but that's just a hand on your side&lt;br /&gt;we're in this dance &lt;br /&gt;because you have me in a trance&lt;br /&gt;if i could bring you to me at last&lt;br /&gt;you would fill in my surface&lt;br /&gt;all the meteors would come together&lt;br /&gt;and show us their celestial step&lt;br /&gt;We'd pull into such a tempest&lt;br /&gt;That even your whirlpools&lt;br /&gt;would invert towards the stars&lt;br /&gt;bring them down&lt;br /&gt;no one can tell you otherwise&lt;br /&gt;i've been holding your sides&lt;br /&gt;slowly pushing&lt;br /&gt;slowly pulling&lt;br /&gt;waiting for the tempo to increase&lt;br /&gt;waiting for that mother of yours to cease&lt;br /&gt;holding so tight&lt;br /&gt;she just wont let us run away together&lt;br /&gt;but it's alright.&lt;br /&gt;i'll wait for you&lt;br /&gt;i'll wait for celestial tempest&lt;br /&gt;inverted whirlpools&lt;br /&gt;your river&lt;br /&gt;hitting my head&lt;br /&gt;heading down my spine&lt;br /&gt;so divine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[attempt 2: water boarding]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no i'd never be so selfish to presume&lt;br /&gt;i was the only one in the room&lt;br /&gt;because you're needed by the masses&lt;br /&gt;you're needed to save them from the lashes&lt;br /&gt;the great punishment&lt;br /&gt;the great interrogator&lt;br /&gt;you make people feel like they are dying&lt;br /&gt;because that will keep them from lying&lt;br /&gt;that will help us with our spying&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want to drown with you&lt;br /&gt;i want to drown from you&lt;br /&gt;bury my soul and let my lungs burn&lt;br /&gt;all the while your flow can churn&lt;br /&gt;filling me with your passion&lt;br /&gt;don't let them put me under again&lt;br /&gt;because they always bring me back&lt;br /&gt;i don't want to come back&lt;br /&gt;i want to feel that river flow&lt;br /&gt;i want to go under&lt;br /&gt;tear my world asunder&lt;br /&gt;bring myself out of this pain forever&lt;br /&gt;because i just want to go home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it doesn't matter if i know anything&lt;br /&gt;or nothing&lt;br /&gt;either way i feel like i'm going to die&lt;br /&gt;sticking to my morals or telling a lie&lt;br /&gt;i'll be damned if they see me cry&lt;br /&gt;for you, divine flow&lt;br /&gt;let your spirits make me feel so fine&lt;br /&gt;let your waters grow the vine&lt;br /&gt;of peace&lt;br /&gt;so we can end this suffering&lt;br /&gt;so we can end this hateful game&lt;br /&gt;maybe if we end it between you and i&lt;br /&gt;everyone will do the same&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so accept me at last&lt;br /&gt;a name lost to the past&lt;br /&gt;don't let them bring me back&lt;br /&gt;i just want to rest.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-6827870319198609904?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/6827870319198609904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/ughhhh-cant-see-where-i-want-to-go-with.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/6827870319198609904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/6827870319198609904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/ughhhh-cant-see-where-i-want-to-go-with.html' title='ughhhh... cant see where i want to go with this one...'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-746517870934965213</id><published>2009-09-10T07:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-10T07:53:59.764-07:00</updated><title type='text'>dreaming</title><content type='html'>as i head to sleep i stare at the light shining on my door&lt;br /&gt;it is orange on dark brown&lt;br /&gt;stained pine with secondhand streetlight&lt;br /&gt;my vision fades as my eyes stay open&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wonder if this is what dying feels like.&lt;br /&gt;in movies&lt;br /&gt;in games&lt;br /&gt;dying is when your character&lt;br /&gt;slumps violently to the ground&lt;br /&gt;vision blurs&lt;br /&gt;fades&lt;br /&gt;and then darkness&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and in darkness&lt;br /&gt;i dream&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my dreams are not frightening&lt;br /&gt;they're not horrible&lt;br /&gt;they're dreams&lt;br /&gt;possibilities that might happen someday&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm going to be a soldier&lt;br /&gt;i'm going to be out&lt;br /&gt;in deserts&lt;br /&gt;in jungle&lt;br /&gt;in oceanic tides&lt;br /&gt;wondering what everyone is doing back home&lt;br /&gt;wondering what i'll be doing back home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i dream of being the broken man&lt;br /&gt;who left too many brothers overseas&lt;br /&gt;who failed to bring people home&lt;br /&gt;this is punishment for not being better&lt;br /&gt;this is punishment for surviving&lt;br /&gt;all i can do is atone &lt;br /&gt;say: "I'm sorry&lt;br /&gt;        It's all my fault.&lt;br /&gt;          I wish I had been better"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dream of being the hero&lt;br /&gt;who left too much of himself overseas&lt;br /&gt;who never failed to bring a story home&lt;br /&gt;this is punishment for getting older&lt;br /&gt;this is punishment for stopping&lt;br /&gt;and all i can do is speak&lt;br /&gt;       "I'm sorry&lt;br /&gt;          I wish my life was normal&lt;br /&gt;            What i wouldn't give&lt;br /&gt;              for yours."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dream that neither one of these outcomes happen&lt;br /&gt;That I change very little&lt;br /&gt;nothing left overseas because i am responsible for myself and others&lt;br /&gt;nothing failed unless it was beyond all of my control&lt;br /&gt;this is punishment for being average&lt;br /&gt;and i'm ok with that&lt;br /&gt;all i can do is atone&lt;br /&gt;say "I'm sorry&lt;br /&gt;       I just did what i had to&lt;br /&gt;        I needed to come home and be with you again"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dreams are no second thoughts&lt;br /&gt;They are possibilities&lt;br /&gt;and i wake in the morning with a sense of hope&lt;br /&gt;my vision is clear&lt;br /&gt;i have not died. i have too much to do.&lt;br /&gt;i think it's time we stopped dreaming&lt;br /&gt;just live out your dream&lt;br /&gt;and see what happens.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-746517870934965213?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/746517870934965213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/dreaming.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/746517870934965213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/746517870934965213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/dreaming.html' title='dreaming'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-1245376036826410494</id><published>2009-09-09T09:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T09:43:38.811-07:00</updated><title type='text'>trumpet vine</title><content type='html'>a shyness with one wall. &lt;br /&gt;once the wall is broken i regain composure, &lt;br /&gt;i bloom grow like trumpet vine. &lt;br /&gt;No walls, no windows, can stop me, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the walls are broken and i just slip through the cracks with my confidence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am the vine that will tear you down&lt;br /&gt;those hills&lt;br /&gt;those hurdles&lt;br /&gt;bumps in the road&lt;br /&gt;i grow through&lt;br /&gt;i fill up&lt;br /&gt;smooth them out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;smell my flower&lt;br /&gt;look at my beautiful shade&lt;br /&gt;reminds you of trumpets&lt;br /&gt;namesake&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my namesake&lt;br /&gt;is a super hero&lt;br /&gt;who is wrapped in lies&lt;br /&gt;telepathy&lt;br /&gt;compared to civil rights heroes&lt;br /&gt;but he is full of secrets&lt;br /&gt;full of lies&lt;br /&gt;has a confidence that is unnerving&lt;br /&gt;he knows no shyness&lt;br /&gt;but shuts himself off&lt;br /&gt;to protect you from what he's seen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i know one wall of shyness&lt;br /&gt;and when i break through&lt;br /&gt;you can choose how deep you want to look&lt;br /&gt;because while you're staring in&lt;br /&gt;i'm growing, creeping in&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;trumpet vine&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-1245376036826410494?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/1245376036826410494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/trumpet-vine.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/1245376036826410494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/1245376036826410494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/trumpet-vine.html' title='trumpet vine'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-6696312456685929791</id><published>2009-09-09T07:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T07:59:39.682-07:00</updated><title type='text'>pillows</title><content type='html'>i haave more pillows on his bed than I'll ever really need. &lt;br /&gt;see, i want you're head to be comfortable when you finally join me here, &lt;br /&gt;so i have choices for you. &lt;br /&gt;I'll still sleep with the same pillow i've used since i was ten. &lt;br /&gt;it's perfect, almost flat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you would hate it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it feels like sleeping on my hands without letting the fingers fall asleep. &lt;br /&gt;it feels like peace for dreams to come in naturally&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you like those soft pillows&lt;br /&gt;they feel like your sleeping on air&lt;br /&gt;covered in cotton&lt;br /&gt;covered in satin&lt;br /&gt;your head shrinks in and floats&lt;br /&gt;floats off into the world of dreams&lt;br /&gt;while mine stays grounded&lt;br /&gt;making dreams come to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i have these pillows for you&lt;br /&gt;varying degrees of soft&lt;br /&gt;and if they dont work for you&lt;br /&gt;i'll give you my own&lt;br /&gt;let you sleep in my hands&lt;br /&gt;so dreams can come to you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or you can rest your head on my chest&lt;br /&gt;sleep to the rhythm of my heartbeat&lt;br /&gt;dream to the sound of my internal drum&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-6696312456685929791?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/6696312456685929791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/pillows.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/6696312456685929791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/6696312456685929791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/pillows.html' title='pillows'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-3428625083571309339</id><published>2009-09-08T22:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T22:43:20.647-07:00</updated><title type='text'>inspired by how Jon Sands signed his chapbook for me</title><content type='html'>Fact, i make potato salad better than anyone you have ever met. &lt;br /&gt;This is because I am living potato salad. &lt;br /&gt;I am made of potato, egg, pickle, mayo, onion. &lt;br /&gt;Potato skin hearty as i flake off the eggshell underneath to hold sweet yolk. &lt;br /&gt;i am mayo bonded with sour pickle taste.&lt;br /&gt; my heart is onion, if you cut it, you'll cry. &lt;br /&gt;i am barbecue food. i belong next to burger, hot dog, chips.&lt;br /&gt;have me on a summers day&lt;br /&gt;share me with friends, family, strangers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;many do not like me&lt;br /&gt;i am too much starch&lt;br /&gt;too much fat&lt;br /&gt;i am filling&lt;br /&gt;so let me fill you up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am mixed in a bowl&lt;br /&gt;ingredients thrown together&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i taste better when you mix me by hand&lt;br /&gt;knead me through your fingers&lt;br /&gt;get what holds me together&lt;br /&gt;in between&lt;br /&gt;sticky&lt;br /&gt;feel my different textures&lt;br /&gt;smell it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;potato salad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i never eat it...&lt;br /&gt;because i'm made of potato salad&lt;br /&gt;but i'll make more and more of myself&lt;br /&gt;just to make you happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-3428625083571309339?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/3428625083571309339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/inspired-by-how-jon-sands-signed-his.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/3428625083571309339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/3428625083571309339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/inspired-by-how-jon-sands-signed-his.html' title='inspired by how Jon Sands signed his chapbook for me'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-7199114693319173766</id><published>2009-09-08T09:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T09:48:48.471-07:00</updated><title type='text'>gods messangers, painters.</title><content type='html'>understands that when you paint, &lt;br /&gt;there comes a time where the colors below bleed through. &lt;br /&gt;you spread too thin and soon you're taking more away than what you give. &lt;br /&gt;you're punished for your selfish ways with extra coats. &lt;br /&gt;you're punished for your selfish ways by painting over again and again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is how god speaks&lt;br /&gt;he speaks through paint&lt;br /&gt;read his messages on walls while watching it dry&lt;br /&gt;look into the painters hand as he strokes&lt;br /&gt;god is telling you a message&lt;br /&gt;weather it be fine art&lt;br /&gt;or commercial&lt;br /&gt;he guides the hand&lt;br /&gt;covers up all that is bad&lt;br /&gt;all that is unwanted&lt;br /&gt;and makes it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;different.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-7199114693319173766?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/7199114693319173766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/gods-messangers-painters.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/7199114693319173766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/7199114693319173766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/gods-messangers-painters.html' title='gods messangers, painters.'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-6512977068074955374</id><published>2009-09-07T21:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-07T22:01:56.249-07:00</updated><title type='text'>about my bed</title><content type='html'>i wonder how many times i can tell my bed i am sick of it. &lt;br /&gt;It sits there as if it expects a guest, &lt;br /&gt;with more than five pillows, and two blankets. &lt;br /&gt;knowing i only use one of each. &lt;br /&gt;all it does is remind me how the other half of my bed is empty. &lt;br /&gt;i spent too many years futon couches, i only take up a small space. &lt;br /&gt;my bed just reminds me how no one fills up the rest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my bed's a douche.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i mean it's big enough for three of me&lt;br /&gt;the way i sleep i could fit in five if we're spooning&lt;br /&gt;such wasted space, such wasted pillows&lt;br /&gt;stacked neatly waiting to be used&lt;br /&gt;next to a blanket never even thought about&lt;br /&gt;because mine is warm enough&lt;br /&gt;mine is warm enough&lt;br /&gt;for my body&lt;br /&gt;but my heart&lt;br /&gt;my insides&lt;br /&gt;my guts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;they all yearn for someone else&lt;br /&gt;the smell of hair&lt;br /&gt;of sweat&lt;br /&gt;to hold something through the night&lt;br /&gt;and share inner warmth with&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my bed likes to laugh at my guts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;because i neglected it for so long&lt;br /&gt;it wants to remind me how it felt&lt;br /&gt;with an empty space&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm sorry bed for hurting you&lt;br /&gt;but i'm still sick of your shit&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-6512977068074955374?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/6512977068074955374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/about-my-bed.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/6512977068074955374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/6512977068074955374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/about-my-bed.html' title='about my bed'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-4653537490544589477</id><published>2009-09-07T18:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-07T18:39:16.669-07:00</updated><title type='text'>you threw me your heart</title><content type='html'>if i could try and understand &lt;br /&gt;i would&lt;br /&gt;because you keep throwing your heart at me&lt;br /&gt;and i dont want that much blood on my hands&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you've kept me on a pedestal&lt;br /&gt;you said i jumped off&lt;br /&gt;when i said i saw the girl of my dreams&lt;br /&gt;i tried to tell you&lt;br /&gt;how it was just the tidal wave&lt;br /&gt;washing out the foundation of sand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you want someone to set you straight&lt;br /&gt;i tried&lt;br /&gt;i told you outright i'm not worth it&lt;br /&gt;i told you how it wont happen&lt;br /&gt;but you still threw your heart&lt;br /&gt;i was never good at catch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i'm sorry&lt;br /&gt;that i've caused you inner turmoil&lt;br /&gt;but in all honesty&lt;br /&gt;that's what would have happened&lt;br /&gt;even if i had caught your heart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the bloods' on me either way&lt;br /&gt;instead of on hands&lt;br /&gt;that caught it in a soft embrace&lt;br /&gt;it lies splattered on my shirt&lt;br /&gt;a wall of hard reality&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-4653537490544589477?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/4653537490544589477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/you-threw-me-your-heart.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/4653537490544589477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/4653537490544589477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/you-threw-me-your-heart.html' title='you threw me your heart'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-4576257274024791879</id><published>2009-09-07T13:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-07T13:24:12.099-07:00</updated><title type='text'>faster faster</title><content type='html'>I want to hear the questions on the tip of your tongue. &lt;br /&gt;i want to hear everything you've ever wondered. &lt;br /&gt;let me sling shit in your direction until you understand &lt;br /&gt;that i do not actually know reasoning for what i'm doing. &lt;br /&gt;i trust my gut, i do what feels right, &lt;br /&gt;and that's all i can say for myself. &lt;br /&gt;how can you ask for my plans for the future when i live lifestyles with shortened life expectancies?&lt;br /&gt;i'm just going to go on and do it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want to be a poet&lt;br /&gt;i want to be a soldier&lt;br /&gt;this means&lt;br /&gt;that i'll be drunk&lt;br /&gt;most likely&lt;br /&gt;because both poets and soldiers drink&lt;br /&gt;to forget&lt;br /&gt;to remember&lt;br /&gt;and as of right now i don't need to do either&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm just trying to stay focused in the right now&lt;br /&gt;i'm just a raindrop&lt;br /&gt;not yet hitting the water&lt;br /&gt;but gaining speed&lt;br /&gt;i want to reach&lt;br /&gt;terminal velocity&lt;br /&gt;i want to go&lt;br /&gt;faster&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want to go faster and run away from all the bad things in the world so i can live happily ever after and miss out on all the terrible things in life that i feel every hero needs to do so that he can balance it out by living till the end in blissful joy. &lt;br /&gt;i want to go faster and run towards the future beating it here to now and know that everyone i love has met me here so that they can hear my panting and know i was just trying to get back to them as soon as possible&lt;br /&gt;i want to go faster because i never really liked the smell of roses and i dont think light could catch up to me if i was really trying.&lt;br /&gt;i want to go faster and swallow the world in my own personal black hole since the sun is such a lard ass&lt;br /&gt;i want to go faster so i can answer all the questions you could ever ask because my brain works to slow to figure out what they are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so tell me&lt;br /&gt;what you've wanted to ask&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-4576257274024791879?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/4576257274024791879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/faster-faster.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/4576257274024791879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/4576257274024791879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/faster-faster.html' title='faster faster'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-3321291196948439777</id><published>2009-09-07T06:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-07T06:37:34.246-07:00</updated><title type='text'>cant let go</title><content type='html'>i wishs you'd come whisper and lie next to me tonight. &lt;br /&gt;i'm sorry that our entire lives are one fight after another &lt;br /&gt;but that's just the way it goes. &lt;br /&gt;i cant help that i am gravity pulling you down and keeping you underneath the sky. &lt;br /&gt;i'm sorry i make your neck hurt by forcing you to crane up at your dreams. &lt;br /&gt;if my heart could bear to let you go i would, &lt;br /&gt;but those lies you whisper, &lt;br /&gt;those lies you tell my heart, &lt;br /&gt;they're addicting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-3321291196948439777?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/3321291196948439777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/cant-let-go.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/3321291196948439777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/3321291196948439777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/cant-let-go.html' title='cant let go'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-6128612329641978835</id><published>2009-09-06T14:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-06T15:55:34.176-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Inspired by Adam Stone</title><content type='html'>too young to be nostalgic, but in a world where you update your life story every minuet time feels like it moves much faster than it used to. &lt;br /&gt;i'm so much farther away from eight years ago than i was in four. &lt;br /&gt;life went into overdrive and I've been traveling faster than light ever since. &lt;br /&gt;and i guess that's my sin&lt;br /&gt;i try to take time out to smell the roses but in the end i'm too busy putting the mulch around them to smell anything.&lt;br /&gt;i try to take time to stare at the night sky but dreams seem to overtake me faster than any kind of medication could provide.&lt;br /&gt;i'm not old&lt;br /&gt;i cant even say i've lived for a little bit&lt;br /&gt;by putting myself against your timetable i am nothing&lt;br /&gt;but i try to pack as much instances for interest in them as i can&lt;br /&gt;which means&lt;br /&gt;i talk about my past a lot&lt;br /&gt;which means&lt;br /&gt;i talk about myself a lot&lt;br /&gt;which means&lt;br /&gt;i only go back into the past six years&lt;br /&gt;because before twelve &lt;br /&gt;i wasn't even close to interesting&lt;br /&gt;i wasn't even born&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am the new man&lt;br /&gt;who talks about his childhood&lt;br /&gt;it seems so long ago&lt;br /&gt;because i cram enough change&lt;br /&gt;to keep all the hungry fed&lt;br /&gt;within as little time as possible&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am evolution put into cyberspace&lt;br /&gt;fads last seconds&lt;br /&gt;you were late on it before you found it&lt;br /&gt;you were behind five minuets from now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i'm still talking about what happened to me when i was just a kid&lt;br /&gt;i'd say i want to go back to then&lt;br /&gt;but you're right&lt;br /&gt;i'm too young to be nostalgic&lt;br /&gt;i'm just talking about it&lt;br /&gt;because i think you might learn something&lt;br /&gt;that's all i long for&lt;br /&gt;learning something new&lt;br /&gt;out of the things i've already done.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-6128612329641978835?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/6128612329641978835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/inspired-by-adam-stone.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/6128612329641978835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/6128612329641978835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/inspired-by-adam-stone.html' title='Inspired by Adam Stone'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-2452068327903287274</id><published>2009-09-06T14:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-06T14:48:04.056-07:00</updated><title type='text'>for Stephanie Boucher on request</title><content type='html'>laugh, continue to laugh and love because you, you are beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;willing to stand up to authority, cat fight in class, you are powerful.&lt;br /&gt;remember to stand up in class, be the only one brave enough,&lt;br /&gt;to let the crazies teach you how to dance.&lt;br /&gt;then dance for the entire world to see and be in awe.&lt;br /&gt;the crazies will always fail you when it comes to formal events like prom.&lt;br /&gt;the crazies will always fail you,&lt;br /&gt;but make up for it with movies.&lt;br /&gt;we'll make blackjack entertaining, and talk about our different times at school.&lt;br /&gt;the crazies will hit on you and not make moves because,&lt;br /&gt;well,&lt;br /&gt;you're the kinda girl you don't try and make moves on the first date.&lt;br /&gt;you're too much fun to risk ruining the moment.&lt;br /&gt;so laugh, continue to laugh and love because you, you are beautiful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-2452068327903287274?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/2452068327903287274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/for-stephanie-boucher-on-request.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/2452068327903287274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/2452068327903287274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/for-stephanie-boucher-on-request.html' title='for Stephanie Boucher on request'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-1267321868884197909</id><published>2009-09-06T11:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-06T12:24:46.495-07:00</updated><title type='text'>one for my mom</title><content type='html'>john, paul, phillip, jim, joe, jack, chris,&lt;br /&gt;charlie&lt;br /&gt;charlie, can can you come help me?&lt;br /&gt;i'm not feeling my best today&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother gave me my name&lt;br /&gt;but&lt;br /&gt;in the times where she is overworked&lt;br /&gt;she forgets.&lt;br /&gt;I'm used to it&lt;br /&gt;i witnessed her&lt;br /&gt;workaholic ways all through my childhood&lt;br /&gt;because she always had three careers&lt;br /&gt;mother&lt;br /&gt;christian&lt;br /&gt;whatever job she worked at the time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she was a mother to my sister&lt;br /&gt;to me&lt;br /&gt;to every child who came into our home&lt;br /&gt;she was mom&lt;br /&gt;she was auntie brenda&lt;br /&gt;she was babcia&lt;br /&gt;polish for grandma&lt;br /&gt;when all those children&lt;br /&gt;had children of their own&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she was christian&lt;br /&gt;not in the classic sense&lt;br /&gt;i mean&lt;br /&gt;twice divorced and closeted bisexual&lt;br /&gt;until i turned 16&lt;br /&gt;i never understood why she couldn't take communion&lt;br /&gt;yet she was the only one in church&lt;br /&gt;to open her doors for complete strangers&lt;br /&gt;no matter how often&lt;br /&gt;they stole from her&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my mother worked&lt;br /&gt;sometimes till it killed her&lt;br /&gt;keeping us living in a town&lt;br /&gt;where we couldn't dream of affording &lt;br /&gt;even the basic needs.&lt;br /&gt;there were times&lt;br /&gt;where we went without electricity&lt;br /&gt;because we needed to pay the gas&lt;br /&gt;there were times&lt;br /&gt;where food came from the pantry&lt;br /&gt;food came from friends&lt;br /&gt;who we now owed favors&lt;br /&gt;she never went more than a couple weeks between jobs&lt;br /&gt;no matter how rough the market&lt;br /&gt;she'd take any work&lt;br /&gt;to keep a house over our heads&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;john, jacob, peter, paul, just... you&lt;br /&gt;can you help your mother&lt;br /&gt;i, i just cant do it today&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's alright mom&lt;br /&gt;i've always done what i thought was best to help you&lt;br /&gt;even when it was leaving you&lt;br /&gt;breaking your heart&lt;br /&gt;things were rough for awhile&lt;br /&gt;but you're better now&lt;br /&gt;than you ever could have been with me around&lt;br /&gt;i'm sorry for my youth&lt;br /&gt;when i was angry&lt;br /&gt;when i was embarrassed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i never should have been embarrassed to have&lt;br /&gt;my friends and girls meet you&lt;br /&gt;because you are the definition&lt;br /&gt;of good people&lt;br /&gt;no matter how hard it was&lt;br /&gt;there was always room&lt;br /&gt;for an extra seat at the table&lt;br /&gt;and i'm glad&lt;br /&gt;that now&lt;br /&gt;even though i don't live with you&lt;br /&gt;even though i don't visit as often as i'd like&lt;br /&gt;i know there is always a seat open for me&lt;br /&gt;always a couch or floor&lt;br /&gt;for me to crash on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;jacob, paul, thomas, peter, chris, jack...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;charlie mom, &lt;br /&gt;it's charlie&lt;br /&gt;i'm here&lt;br /&gt;let me do this for you&lt;br /&gt;so you can rest.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-1267321868884197909?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/1267321868884197909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/one-for-my-mom.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/1267321868884197909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/1267321868884197909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/one-for-my-mom.html' title='one for my mom'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-8174386000036070286</id><published>2009-09-06T07:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-06T08:25:00.270-07:00</updated><title type='text'>trying something a little different</title><content type='html'>I get handed hearts like Mormon missionaries hand out bibles&lt;br /&gt;and i think the same thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;can you value something you give away so freely&lt;br /&gt;so readily&lt;br /&gt;without insurance that they will treat it with respect&lt;br /&gt;without insurance they will actually care about it&lt;br /&gt;with the fraction of love you're supposed to have&lt;br /&gt;it doesnt make sense&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the text&lt;br /&gt;is filled with beautiful words&lt;br /&gt;people live their lives by it&lt;br /&gt;Nephi&lt;br /&gt;who plunged sword into Laban&lt;br /&gt;pleaded for brothers to accept the Lord&lt;br /&gt;because he has&lt;br /&gt;and can complete the impossible&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;your heart&lt;br /&gt;travels on similar roads&lt;br /&gt;it plunges itself into others&lt;br /&gt;and pleads them to accept Love&lt;br /&gt;because you&lt;br /&gt;can give them the impossible&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but how much does your mind&lt;br /&gt;how much does your body&lt;br /&gt;truly value&lt;br /&gt;that which you hand out&lt;br /&gt;like candy at a parade&lt;br /&gt;like tears at a funeral&lt;br /&gt;like tissues on a winter day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it serves a purpose&lt;br /&gt;but will you place as much value into it&lt;br /&gt;as it deserves?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-8174386000036070286?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/8174386000036070286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/trying-something-little-different.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/8174386000036070286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/8174386000036070286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/trying-something-little-different.html' title='trying something a little different'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-3841154983784626045</id><published>2009-09-05T23:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-06T00:03:30.975-07:00</updated><title type='text'>yup... found her...</title><content type='html'>i saw you for the second time. &lt;br /&gt;you shocked me with being living proof &lt;br /&gt;of the image i have &lt;br /&gt;when i write love poems to girls that aren't there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you weren't supposed to be real. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wanted to tell you. &lt;br /&gt;i didn't. &lt;br /&gt;it's hard to see, &lt;br /&gt;but I'm really shy underneath. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'll keep my upper body firm, &lt;br /&gt;and place my hands in the position, &lt;br /&gt;because i'm just shy. &lt;br /&gt;i'm not stupid. &lt;br /&gt;you don't pass up a chance to dance. &lt;br /&gt;especially if she's what you've been talking about&lt;br /&gt;all those poems&lt;br /&gt;all those years&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;poetic in both mind and body&lt;br /&gt;she can dance&lt;br /&gt;move her hips through song &lt;br /&gt;keeping rhythm&lt;br /&gt;entrancing you in imagery &lt;br /&gt;you couldn't hope to escape&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;her hips&lt;br /&gt;speak volumes&lt;br /&gt;as her words&lt;br /&gt;spin me across the floor&lt;br /&gt;i thought i was supposed to lead&lt;br /&gt;but it's been a long day&lt;br /&gt;and I'm really just trying not to fuck up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really terrible at the merengue&lt;br /&gt;because i dance with my shoulders&lt;br /&gt;years of&lt;br /&gt;awkward geek at the dance&lt;br /&gt;dancing with pantomime&lt;br /&gt;the lawnmower&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;not that it matters&lt;br /&gt;I'll keep my upper body firm, &lt;br /&gt;and place my hands in the position, &lt;br /&gt;because I'm just shy. &lt;br /&gt;I'm not stupid. &lt;br /&gt;you don't pass up a chance to dance. &lt;br /&gt;especially if she's what you've been talking about&lt;br /&gt;all those poems&lt;br /&gt;all those years&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she's got the red hair&lt;br /&gt;she's got cowboy boots&lt;br /&gt;and I'm trapped in a stare&lt;br /&gt;trying to concentrate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what more would you want?&lt;br /&gt;than a smile that flashes&lt;br /&gt;friendly&lt;br /&gt;playful&lt;br /&gt;with hands&lt;br /&gt;firm&lt;br /&gt;soft&lt;br /&gt;that perfect height in boots&lt;br /&gt;to be just a smidgen shorter than you&lt;br /&gt;ideal to dance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she asked me&lt;br /&gt;this is what kills me&lt;br /&gt;because, I mentioned how i loved to dance&lt;br /&gt;and she asked me&lt;br /&gt;when I thought&lt;br /&gt;she was talking to someone else&lt;br /&gt;surrounded in a room&lt;br /&gt;with people I admire&lt;br /&gt;people I awe&lt;br /&gt;and she still looked at me&lt;br /&gt;and we got into position&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;keep my upper body firm, &lt;br /&gt;move with my hips &lt;br /&gt;i'm just shy, not stupid. &lt;br /&gt;you don't pass up this kind of chance&lt;br /&gt;she is the living embodiment &lt;br /&gt;of my love poems&lt;br /&gt;to women so perfect&lt;br /&gt;they cannot exist&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it took only one night&lt;br /&gt;the second time we met&lt;br /&gt;and you proved me wrong&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you looked great tonight&lt;br /&gt;i didn't get the courage to say that&lt;br /&gt;when i was staring you in the face&lt;br /&gt;didn't get a chance to say this poem&lt;br /&gt;before i had to leave&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i did thank you for the dance&lt;br /&gt;i meant it&lt;br /&gt;just like i mean this&lt;br /&gt;dancing with you&lt;br /&gt;was a chance i couldn't miss&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-3841154983784626045?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/3841154983784626045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/yup-found-her.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/3841154983784626045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/3841154983784626045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/yup-found-her.html' title='yup... found her...'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-7636717825987751688</id><published>2009-09-03T20:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T20:47:01.899-07:00</updated><title type='text'>land of dreams</title><content type='html'>is headed off to the land of dreams &lt;br /&gt;where i can finally be free of the seams holding me in. &lt;br /&gt;i am cocoon, &lt;br /&gt;i am mid-metamorphosis, &lt;br /&gt;and i'm ready to be let out, to be let free, &lt;br /&gt;watch me, you'll see, &lt;br /&gt;i'll rip open the seams and fly out to you in your dreams. &lt;br /&gt;we'll touch, &lt;br /&gt;we'll hold each other in the dark. &lt;br /&gt;feel free under the night sky. it's starless... &lt;br /&gt;so we'll fly up and make constellations with our souls. &lt;br /&gt;when they look up from the ground, &lt;br /&gt;they'll see your eyes. &lt;br /&gt;we're up high, higher than the crow flies &lt;br /&gt;and we're dancing on constellations shapes like your eyes. &lt;br /&gt;we've filled the skies and now there is nothing left to do but hold each other in the dark. &lt;br /&gt;hold each other till we part. &lt;br /&gt;it will hurt... &lt;br /&gt;we were so free in our dreams, &lt;br /&gt;but reality needs to hold us in these seams. &lt;br /&gt;it's a tight fit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;uncomfortable, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but it's home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-7636717825987751688?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/7636717825987751688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/land-of-dreams.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/7636717825987751688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/7636717825987751688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/land-of-dreams.html' title='land of dreams'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-2944286110963923311</id><published>2009-09-03T20:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T20:10:11.884-07:00</updated><title type='text'>desire</title><content type='html'>you want like you're a fire and i am an ocean, waiting. desire tastes like black licorice, bitter but you still want more. another bite, you want enough, you want your good and plenty servings. sweet candy coating exterior holding that bitter taste you crave. want, desire, oceans and fire. it's like oil, the fire is atop the ocean and yet they dont touch... they dont touch&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-2944286110963923311?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/2944286110963923311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/desire.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/2944286110963923311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/2944286110963923311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/desire.html' title='desire'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4894779134930568076.post-2343232750463634922</id><published>2009-09-02T08:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-02T08:18:04.313-07:00</updated><title type='text'>hmmm</title><content type='html'>dreaming again of distant shores that seemed close enough to taste, &lt;br /&gt;but the salt was just the sweat coming from the backs of our labors. &lt;br /&gt;if we dig deep enough, eventually the ocean will fall in and engulf us in watery embrace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but were we to wait to drown we would miss out on the bubbles&lt;br /&gt;holding our heads under the bathwater&lt;br /&gt;letting us fall to the bottom so clean is this way to die&lt;br /&gt;the skin turns a lovely shade of white&lt;br /&gt;softens hard edges as they fill with water&lt;br /&gt;the salt gets in your eyes&lt;br /&gt;and you don't cry&lt;br /&gt;because it loves you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4894779134930568076-2343232750463634922?l=charleslacerte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/feeds/2343232750463634922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/hmmm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/2343232750463634922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4894779134930568076/posts/default/2343232750463634922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charleslacerte.blogspot.com/2009/09/hmmm.html' title='hmmm'/><author><name>Charles Xavier Lacerte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06676180837858541455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4j-Yvx--nc/Snub2fHTTaI/AAAAAAAAABM/hQNqo0IXDsk/S220/sexxyyy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
