the postal service – TOKIDOKI (NOMAD)

SAN JOSE, COSTA RICA: WE WILL BECOME SILHOUETTES (the postal service, chet faker, alt-j)

Published on April 20, 2019April 20, 2019 by jacquelinemhadelLeave a comment

**you seem so out of context in this gaudy apartment complex. a stranger with no** ***door key explaining that i’m just visiting. and i am finally seeing why i was the one worth leaving.***

**and i have to speculate that god himself did make us into corresponding shapes like puzzle pieces from the clay.**

**smeared black ink. your palms are sweaty. and i’m barely listening to last demands. i’m staring at the asphalt wondering what’s buried underneath where i am.**

*last week i had the strangest dream where everything was just as it* *seemed*.

**don’t wake me. i plan on sleeping in.**

**i feel i must interject here. you’re getting carried away feeling sorry for yourself.** ***with these revisions and gaps in history. so let me* *help you remember. i’ve made charts and graphs that should finally make it*** ***clear. i’ve prepared a lecture on why i have to leave.***

and i want life in every word to the extent that it’s absurd.

**and i’m screaming at the top of my lungs pretending that the echoes belong to someone, someone i used to know.**

i wanted to walk through the empty streets and feel something constant under my feet.

**…until our shells simply cannot hold all our insides in, and that’s when we’ll explode.**

***i’ll be the fire escape that’s bolted to the ancient brick where you will sit and contemplate your day.***

**i’ll be the waterwings that save you if you start drowning.**

**i’ll be the phonograph that plays your favorite albums back as you’re lying there drifting off to sleep.**

**i’ll be your winter coat buttoned and zipped straight to the throat with the collar up so you won’t catch a cold.**

**i want to take you far from the cynics in this town.**

***we’ll cut our bodies free from the* *tethers* *of this scene.***

**start a brand new colony where everything will change. we’ll give ourselves new names (identities erased.)**

**now i’m a novel made resourceful. i start a chain with my thought.**

**cold pain. i cannot sustain it. that’s what i’m thinking, not what i’m drinking.**

***these thoughts are* *pervasive. it’s not a statement but peace can be evasive.***

**melt my happiness. some kind of fucked up mess.**

**i need a bit of coffee and the warm sun. and the dusty ideas only half spun.**

**i’m not the reason you’re looking for redemption.**

***is it absurd for me to hurt when* *everything* *else is fading?***

**i’m** ***walking through each smile.***

*she may* *contain* *the urge to run away but* *hold* *her down with soggy clothes and* *breeze blocks*.

***do you* *know* *where the wild things go?***

**she’s morphine, queen of my vaccine.**

***she makes the* *sound,* *the sound the sea makes, to calm me*** ***down.***

**we can’t lose touch, but we can let go.**

***the* *nights* *of all my youth pressed into one glass of water.***

**painless with a great** ***closeness.***

**legions upon legions of craftsmen handmade my feelings.**

mar2019. San Jose, Costa Rica.

KAMIANETS-PODILSKYI, UKRAINE: MY TROUBLED HEAD

Published on March 31, 2015October 16, 2020 by jacquelinemhadel1 Comment

I am thinking it’s a sign
That the freckles in our eyes
Are mirror images and when
We kiss they’re perfectly aligned

And I have to speculate
That God himself did make
Us into corresponding shapes
Like puzzle pieces from the clay

And true, it may seem like a stretch,
But its thoughts like this that catch
My troubled head when you’re away
When I am missing you to death

~The Postal Service “Such Great Heights”

29mar15. Kamianets-Podilskyi, Ukraine.

KAMIANETS-PODILSKYI, UKRAINE: STARING AT ASPHALT

Published on March 31, 2015October 16, 2020 by jacquelinemhadelLeave a comment

Unexpectedly alone and out of sorts exploring a foreign town, I felt compelled to listen to my favorite album of all-time over and over on the trip.

“Smeared black ink… your palms are sweaty
And I’m barely listening to last demands
I’m staring at the asphalt wondering what’s buried underneath
Where I am”

~ The Postal Service “The District Sleeps Alone Tonight”

“Choose familiar faces”