There's something so sick about
this emotional capacity
Before breakfast we plant atomic bombs in our neighbors yard
like bulbs of (glad)iolus
Haven't you noticed how much gardens look like graveyards
My cereal, ceiling, bathroom, and skin
All say Made in China
This homeland is looking more like that land
Ughhh and you can see the blood in my pink nail polish from that sweat shop girl
It's not supposed to be RED!
ooOooopps did we just learn how to commercialize genocide
I'm wondering when I'll wake up with a barcode
Will it be on my eyelids
my arms my soul
Maybe God was in the bees
Now there's no more honey, flowers, or trees
My brothers both went to war
It's not Wal-Mart
But it's open 24/7, checkout through Heaven
And I don't think they're coming home
Not without bones implanted in their brains
sharp, jagged, broken ones
That kind that make you uncomfortable with your memories
The one's that make it hard to sleep
Last week I found a dead cat
A dead bird in the snow
When I turned around the corner, I saw myself
I was lying in the street
And I felt nothing
Dome of the Rock,
walls worded with Koran,
1000 years later,
And we still fight the holy war in Iran.
We've seen Mohammed, Jesus, and Abraham too,
We'll kill to make one more visible,
But they never preached murder to you.
We're all just people,
Abe the father, Mohammed the orphan,
And Jesus teaching under the steeple.
They only thought of new ways to love,
But us humans love to hold back one another,
In the name of something above.
Her eyes are nothern stars guiding me
Her smile is wind in my sail bringing me near
My Magellan eyes scan her coast and sky
My words, a cartagrapher drawing her every curve and line
I sail an ocean of curiosity till storm of her desire
send me crashing ashore
Let my heart be run aground upon her chest
Let me be stranded upon her lips,
My hands castaway in her hair
And wander her silken seashore
Love has led me to New World
I want to explore every part
I have found the great fortune of my life
in her untamed, wild land
Like Cortes, I burn the ships
May I never be rescued
i fill myself up with liquor
only to find that i'm still empty.
people fill me up with expectations & every time they fail
they pour a portion of my soul out into the gutter
& i'm still empty.
lovers pursue me with sweet words & fill me up with dreams of a perfect romance & when it ends my heart breaks, spilling out the few drops left of my soul,
making me emptier than before.
i nourish friendships using the substance from my soul
only to watch them dwindle & die leaving my soul substance-less
& i'm still empty.
i write this poem with the hope that maybe, just maybe it can make me feel whole again but
i'm still empty.