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    • Bottle Rocket Series
    • Explosions In My Head Series (large)
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floating on a telephone,

answering calls.

talking to machines

mixture of tones, 

that confuse me.

what will I do today? 

then recovering,


by hiding in the water.

Tomorrow
Hat tucked,
Cold wind,
Bundled with care.
Ear phones, lines tones,
people watching in the night.
Travelled near, person pitched,
with eyes I want to touch.
Caffeine high, park bench,
drawing perfect circles.
Dead Grey,something bold,
to keep my mind at ease.
In the school, the heat is on,
I want the cold air.
Gravelled paint, clothes that shine,
help get me past.
At home
heat is on,
time to settle down.
Missing but escaping
wondering how I will handle tomorrow.

untitled
I was walking down the room.
But the room continued on.
Shoes were sailing, clothes were landing.
I was sitting, thinking, inhaling.

untitled
The days were so blindly bright.
I can see everything.
The motel washroom exposed 
all the dust,
all the food piled into my stomach
from the night before.
Now in the night I keep my eyes open, 
fiddling around till my patterns take control.
I will see it all in the morning

untitled
- every time i make it onto the subway, i am…  amazed.
- knowing when a hangout has reached its peak and is quickly nearing its end, I wonder how am i going to get home (if I am not already) and fall asleep.
- after getting groceries I wonder how I am going to make it last.  I usually pretend i am currently low on funds to make myself feel better.
- when I wake up I not only hug  my covers, but  I surround myself in them and pretend that time has paused with just the right amount of sunlight and responsibility.  I eventually breakout out of it but not without some level of concern and confusion.
- I lay everything I need on the corner of my bedside so i can take  a quick shower. Then before i am almost dry, i hop on my uniform to wander out there, needed more but needing less.
- being light headed seems to just bring more intense weight after it all settles.

t     e     x     t     u     r     e  

slush/thinking/sorting/feeling/where did my mind go?/fix that bed/fix it again before i leave/one last time/check/check/check/intense/nothing happens/relief with a mild sense of disappointment/body is getting fit but what can  i do with it?/try not to question too much/yes i use simple words so what?/no one cares/self headed but who isn’t?/this is currently my idea of working on something/helping hand but then i question what my hands are doing/yesterday I was moving, now i am lagging behind/did a mini workout here, the sweat cleanses my fears/I’m on the checking ways due  to over access to technology rather than looking out my window and seeing what's moving and what's not.

untitled
Why do I always have to be listening even when i am speaking?

untitled
What do you do 
when you easily fall for love 
but you are also terrified of it?
What do you do 
when you’re a part of love, you watch your every move 
but when you're separated from love 
you long for it so deeply it hurts?

bench
Hi to the guy on the bench does wonders to reach and turn the corner

notes
It seems like notes are not for sticks but for longing.

Place
Looking for that blissful place.
Sight and sound are curating 
and it's going very well.

Carry me
Desk in.
Seat back.
Let something happen.
without it happening,
until my eyes start to wonder and believe.
Let that carry me to bed.
Keep me going, into the night

​
Keep me going, into the night
Gazing downward,
shades and beaming noise.
Strangers and their multiple transactions
A dog moves me along
All the cars, 
i just want to skip it
and get to the root.
Turning around in the supermarket,
I can almost see my back.
Stocking up then looking for a 
friendly face to cash out.
When i head back should i eat all the  snacks
as a day of celebration and letting go?
Instead I preserve it as best i can,
leaving little pockets of surprises that 
keep me going into the night.

Go
Info
bits and parts of light
maybe i will use what
i like.
pause
repeat
or do i bother?
bed has already been filled.
Time to
stack
press
and
shower
and
shower some more
look
tie
place and
go.

worn
clothes in heat,
worn again, 
stretched out.
its a strange comfort i like to wake up to.

certainty
grab me, push me, 
until all my senses are finally slopped all over 
the living room floor
I scatter about,
as you continue to grab me push me and pull me away
but i am ready to continue,
take the heat,
and try to neatly organize this mess 
into something i can feel with certainty.

walking
Tailoring my head up enough to see the sights
as i walk only to witness faces,  light and sound that flash with a punch
In a direction that never has one,
i wonder if this should be a spot or a continuation to my dorm,
especially if the music feels it is over.

an easy game
I was never into puzzle pieces 
so trying/having to fit them together 
continually over the course of a day
never brought me lego.                         
Sometimes I just want them to be singular; 
ready to be comfortably seen 
and understood.
How about a game or two 
without the competition?

body
Changes, mixed dry, rumbling about.
Contrast to, poured cereal,
separating slowly,
left for days.
Leave your environment,
you silly boxed crow.
You might as well use your cheap plastic sunglasses
over your tight roped body
so you can somehow shake a little
Level the field later
grab a quick water
ball up
and aim to please

point
Weekend, week to sliding under the room alone.
The TV set and DVD combo are set but what for?
Am I attached to the room for answers, or long ended time?

being there
Inward and below 
my pinched eyes are getting 
watered down,
soaped and wiped.
Still sleepy tied and bundled, 
the heads start chasing their minds,
running into clouds, wheezing for 
certainty, in their continuous search 
for rooms to be filled.
Particles are moving in and away 
from previous vacations.  
I wonder if their was comfort,
laughter and contentment during their stay?
This body just needs to carry on 
with the circus act of getting there
staying there, and being there.
  
sometimes not fully attached
What’s a body that’s not fully attached?
My heart sways back and forth.
I’m tingled with uncertainty that moves my glass pebbles of sensitivity.
Chores of living can reach their moments of joy,
if fluidity is attained and happy faces surround you.
But my body is not fully attached …
Thankfully I have my moments where i turn around and interact.
Being planted in my bed from the night before.
Now it’s the daytime but I want nothing more.
Trying to get started but my mind is not at ease.
Looping thoughts and worst case scenarios play around me.
It always leads to escapism, mindless entertainment,
and blankets that easily wrap around my body and mind.
I'm waiting for the sun to come down, to keep my eyes open, to
enjoy the levelness that constantly makes fun of me.
Do I want a dark hole or a nice, warm shimmering glow?
Its getting better.
Without questions.

grass are confident
walking pointed,
or running scared with scissors
eyes rolled,
or hidden in the pavement.
what kind of facial expression do i have?
do people always know theirs?
passing the lush grass that’s settling in comfortably.
easily fed, watered and replaced.
I wonder if they ever get uneasy from the blistering sun.
or the fact they can’t move away from anyone or anything.

mustered
locked in
tired sleep
cold water
fresh made
comfort talk
hiding in your body
wake up
clinch the blanket
look at the time
deep breath 
suns out
time to move

playing should be fun
typing away at the insides of my words.
i struggle to speak.
to figure out the timing,
the order,
the right approach.
it's so easy to pass and let someone else take the gun.
I am still learning to be human
so much to figure out,
to piece together.
seeing the puzzle pieces in front of me;
i get annoyed by their irregular
shapes
sizes
arrangement
its sometimes plastic makeup.
I have a lot to play with.
playing should be fun.

objects are people too
looking over at the dirty dishes, 
there are no hits and misses.
they have found their purpose.
nicely stacked.
not causing a lot of noise.
they are there to amuse.
to tease a little.
to toy with the idea of
washing them.
but they are also, perfectly comfortable
with where they are.
it must be nice to have confidence like that.
the old 
rusty fan 
on the other hand, 
gets all 
the abuse.
Its starting to put its frame down.
not even its nuts and bolts will help keep it from falling down.


​









all art pieces for sale are the original versions, i do not make copies.
all rights reserved. elevator boy (c)2015


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elevatorboygallery@gmail.com
  • Home
  • About
  • Visual
    • Bottle Rocket Series
    • Explosions In My Head Series (large)
    • Explosions In My Head Series (small)
    • No More Sessions Series
    • Pen Ink Series
    • Tender Tin Series
    • Unfit Series
    • We're All Moving Series
    • Miscellaneous
  • Audio
  • Written
    • Poems 1
    • Short Verses 1
    • Short Verses 2
  • Contact