When I was younger
I stood there waiting.
I stood there,
Waiting for someone who would not come,
Against the cold damp wall I stood,
As an unwanted postage stamp,
Waiting to be remembered.
As I stood there.
now i see your bitters
mix up, keep it a away
you should know signs
as such are black eyes
fruitless, drama queens
you should know inertia
how it lurks, over some
shoulder of a cheap pose
she doesn't practice what
you so desperately preach
this city isn't made-to-order
she despises most partial
tossing them to the wolves
a tight checklist of foolish
power hungry antagonist
tiny names here in this city
it doesn't take one to no one
she is no one looking for her
brilliant time in the sunshine
tell your sob story to venus
Today. I was almost hit by a car,
wearing a scarlet dress
the way I least wanted to die
by the grill of an SUV.
The engine grinned hotly in my face.
the look on his face was priceless
I bet mine was better.
as I gasped, no room in
vocal cords for screaming
held my hands out
as if that would stop the metal from moving
I don't know why he turned so sharply
I don't know why I put my arms out
or had to walk that way
that particular day
my hands shook in line
at kinkos, holding back every chemical
saying please and thank you
for two sheets of paper
that could have mattered less
over my face with a case of the shakes
life just stamped me with an appreciation
only taught by almost getting hit by an SUV.
life went on around me, the workers in yellow on the corner
got a few moments of thrill.
the folks at Starbucks
the other people grinding their teeth at the stoplights.
a moment excitement.
I kissed someone in the night,
Then woke to moan my plight,
No one to sing my song with me,
But contentment soon the object of my sight,
The Maker is my might,
Who better to sing in harmony?
Than the one who gave to me?
The melody of soul.
He sweeps the stars in dulcet patterns,
And creams the clouds for frosting,
He bends the eyelash and reddens lips,
Adds all the sweetness to make our hearts dip,
Forward and fall in love with his own stamp of beauty.
The Stamper is the most beautiful;
No crafted canyon, or molded man can compare to the Maker of it all,
For he only takes what is his and gives it out like candy,
To the mouths of all his children, unaware of his hand.
I want to be aware, to see indescribable things,
To watch with inner eyes what few else have seen,
To hear a song of a different dimension,
Lovely amidst dissension, and run towards that which can,
Really, give me what I want,
Give me what I need.
the apple too.
on the blame scale
with Ever & The Serpent now.
I just want to go
All I need
is a steady pole
to dance on.
Hello, Wednesday nights.
Pass me the fifth
I wanna get belligerent & cocky.