With your words that made me fly somehow.
But hidden within ur innerself its always been your sweetest lie.
Talking bout your dreams devouring me like ashes twisted and slowly disappearing.
The truth acts like a spirited-away. Letting it fly back to its inside.
There's this always inside of you. Something hidden and somethng blocked. Stopping you from outpouring what's inside.
Mind and heart was in despair. They were always contrary but hearing all! With your honesty, i know there is all the droppin of everythng. All numb but eyes were all blown. I cant stop it.
But all a could say. Everythng was fragile.
Revenge has always been part of the human soul. not in its anatomy form or any interior or exterior aspects.
But functioning with its own parts.
Its the anger! Where it all starts. Jealousy and hurt were the main stream and always end to suffering.
Thats all for love. We'd all be needing for us to feel even.
Just a pinch of happiness just to get fair for someone that we love but did somethng wrong within us breaking us. Attacking every tiny vessels which in the end, Turning us into an evil creature.
It was a buss - telling me it was that simple thing. Not to make it more bigger. But lets end this up.
Still it hurts,... Still. Its another woman. Such senstivity arising.
You are an odd joy
whenever I see you
Your bottom lip
is quite the wonder
You
make
me
feel
like
liquid
toughness
Because
I can still fix
automobiles
and
work
machinery
Thank you
You are quite
the curiosity
you
wild
wonder
of
falling
hair
your voice
can do
wonderful
things
I love you because
of the way your eyes shine
when the light hits the blue
and sparkles when you wink at me.
I love you because
the smell of you
calms me down and sticks
to me when I spend too
much time with you.
I love you because
you say you think too much,
but the things that you think
are beyond your years.
I love you because
you're my shining knight
the one who protects me
when I've fallen into the dark.
I love you because
the words you write
take my breath away
every time I read your works.
I love you because
your smile is infectious
and makes me smile
every time I think of you.
I love you because
we made plans to
own a big house
with lots of books
just for me.
I love you because
you said you would
never leave
you said to take your hand
and hold it tight.
I love you because
your voice is intoxicating
to hear you speak
is a life's pleasure.
I love you because
that night in the car
you held me close
and played with my hair.
I love you because
you never fail
to make me laugh
when I've failed.
I love you because
you tell me not to
say you are perfect
even though I think you are.
I love you because
you tried to get me out
of my comfort zone
and make me less awkward.
I love you because
you said we were
a perfect match
and balanced each other out.
I'm trying so hard to hate you.
Father's Way: Tell me a story, Dad
What power we possess,
when the innocent demand,
at the time of cozy bed and sandman,
"Tell me a story,"
To gentle the monsters
in the closet of their heads,
grant them a peace naive that's lost after
they learn the D words, disappointment, death,
Till then, promises unfettered, the best yet to come.
The story, you, grantor, they, grantees,
Scent their dreams,
perfume their dreams,
sprinkle their safety net, blanky, rag doll:
- scent with mom's hairspray and dad's special smell,
musk, balsam, gasoline and body odor
- scent with cherrywood falsehoods to caress,
till morning's burnished glory ascends,
thru window, tenderize the cheeks of my babes,
prep them for the truths to be learned that day.
In tones most imploring,
glances fawning,
tis us, they do deceive,
for adult arrogance demands
in God we Trust, that they,
will believe our words,
will indeed, make them rest
till new day's slow and subtle dawning
Tis the same tomfoolery that leads us
to drink repeatedly from the trough of
best laid plans and self-deception
You believed your own narrative
will be the one he scripted,
while standing day-dreaming,
sweating on subway platform,
admiring beaches and beauties
from station walls lifted,
waiting for the train
that only eventually comes,
that train, that station, whose smell reminds you
of mom's hairspray and dad's special smell,
musk, balsam and motor oil, and body odor,
a cocaine reminder of dreams yet uncrystallized,
and stories your father told, unrealized,
tho train has come, they have not
Write me a narrative, Dad,
and please advise
if tinker or tailor will be my trade,
fix my details, dear pater, par example,
pick my institution of higher learning,
my future alma mater, on my day of birth,
promise me gentility, no harm no foul, mirth,
All the days of my life.
Please advise if I shall be a
wife abuser, communist, or a damn
junkie poet/user,
word rich and pocket poor,
stealing ideas from everyone,
red blooded or blue~green,
a true believer, a born again,
an agnostic, my own truths, to disabuse
tell me father, will I die warmed,
surrounded by generations of my progeny
or in pauper's grave, a life long ward of
one true mate, in loco parentis all of my days,
a child, a dependent, of noster paternal state?
Please Pop, pick wise,
the life and lies, the faces and disguises,
I will need employ to achieve success
in the eyes of my reading beholders,
who own the liens on my soul
because of the promises I believed,
when you sang me
glowing lullabies of my future days,
how everyone would love my stories,
my poems, someday...
June 11, 2011
Updated on Father's Day 2013
When we were kids some
told us that we were not allowed
to have an imagination, that it wasn’t
realistic.
Some thought differently, that
it was a place to make us
happy, a place to free our minds.
As we grew older we don’t know
who was right because our imaginations
only lead to disappointments.
We imagined we would be happy,
instead we’re more sad, angry
and confused.
We imagined people wouldn’t leave
but they do.
But it’s just our imagination,
It’s not realistic.
I Am The New Age Villain. No Masked Maccasurer, I Carry My Blades On The Inside.
More Terrifying Than Any Clown, Or Ghost Faced Monster With A Butcher Knife. I Am The Teenage Girl With Daddy Issues.
I Will Swallow Your Sons Whole. I Will Pull Them Under The Covers Until All They Can See Is Black And Blue. I Will Carve My Name Above Their Still Beating Heart, And Turn Them Ugly. I Am Their First And Last Love, Wrapped Up In Old Christmas Bows That My Mother Could Never Bring Herself To Get Rid Of.
With A Tongue Piercing And A Bad Tattoo Of A Rose On My Ankle, I've Got Problems With My Identity, Seems To Me I've Lost It On The Assembly Line Of You What You're Supposed To See On MTV , I've Never Been Given Anything To Really Stand For.
So This Means I Fall In Love Easily.
I Fall Into Bed Easily, Between Layers Of Needing To Be Needed, And A Bottomless Appetite For Hands Across My Flesh. Bruises Make It That More Much Worth The While, Because Hours Later The Marks Will Still Be There To Remind Me Of Just How Badly You Never Wanted To Let Me Go.
He Places His Palm To My Chest, Mine To His, Says "Baby We're Making Love." But How Do You Make Love When You Hate Yourself?
I Have Learned The Hard Way That Your Mother Doesn't Want You To Bring Girls Like Me To Christmas Dinners. I've Felt My Stomach Curl Up Around My Insides, Chewing Me Apart, From The Inside Out, I Am Empty.
So I Beg Them To Fill Me.
Pour Promise Between My Sheets, And Breathe Into Me. I Am Broken.
I Know You're All Afraid Of Me, And Thats Why You Hate Me. I've Seen The Sneer Across Your Lips, Spark Starving And Growling. You Want To See Me Fail. You Probably Don't Know How Often I Cry Myself To Sleep At Night. I Was Bred, Not Built, I Am Human Too. But So Much Less Real Than You, Because This Hollowness Is Like A New Anesthetic.
But Like Every Good Comic, The Villain Was Not Always The Villain. Some Sick And Twisted Past Has Ripped Him Apart At The Seams, Left Him Begging Desperate, Lonely And Fragile, Chasing Down The Kind Of Sweet Revenge That Rots Your Teeth.
I Wasn't Always This Way. I Was Delivered Into The Mouth Of Temptation, And Damn Did The Bite Hurt.
Like Any Good Story, It Had A Begging Middle, And End, But Not Necessarily In That Order, Because My Beginning Was My Mothers End, And My Father's Story Seemed To Happen Without My Existence. Without My Permission
Because He Walked Out. Like Backlit Silhouette Of Shadows Against My Bedroom Walls, He Was Always Leaving In My Dreams.
He Met A Girl With A College Degree, Called Her 'Babydoll' And 'Lover', And She Gave Him The Gift Of Three Sons, Who Search For The Thread Of Meaning In Their Father's Speech When He Kisses The Tops Of Their Heads At Night.
He Made This Way. He Tore Our The Seems Of My Storybook And Left Me Screaming In My Sleep. This Lost And Angry Abandonment Couldn't Rest Any Longer, I Now How Streets To Chase Away And Hours To Destroy, And This Would Be The Time For Our Rib cages to Meet, In Hot Heat, And Spark Into Something Bigger Than Me,
So Yes, Call Me Your Villain.
Because Like A Villain, I Am Chasing A Revenge Deep Into Myself, Down Highways Called Veins, Where I Once Wrote The Word 'Happiness' In Blue Ink For An Older Me To Find Someday. I Am Waiting For A Redemption To Thread Its Fingers Into My Hair, And Tell Me I'm Literally Worth Fighting For. I Am Exhausted, Because I've Got Blooded Knuckles, And Broken Battle Hymns.
The Only Hero I'm Fighting Is Myself.
You are insomnia
during Winter Solstice,
a charcoal universe smeared
on my palms
and ground into my pores.
You are as close to me as Pluto
as far away as my on fingernails.
I cannot explain why
I ache for you;
the way I thirst for your skin on mine.
The distance of years between us make you
an impossible target to hit.
Technically speaking,
you are simply a moth in the light
of my phosphorescent teenage hunger.
And yet, this need
burrows beneath and through any simple explanation
and worms into my typewriter keys
and up my angel hair nerves to
my spinal cord, where
it festers and feeds.
And even though
you are eating me alive
from the inside out,
having you here with me feels
like fucking heaven.
They told me dip your toes into that hell
Go
and make a daisy chain as well
and each daisy represents a body slain
a bloody great big daisy chain.
So I went and built a wall of sweat and in it tied the lessons which I tried hard to forget
but as these flowers on the wall began to bloom
the chain wrapped me into the doom
I saw a mountain lit in blackened light and on a white horse
there sat
a knight of olde
Taking notes as if foretold a history would need be taken
of lost souls who
forsaken by their breath had daisy chained into their death.
No Camelot
No Camelot
King Arthur has forgotten us
as we forgot the writings in the book
and took it on ourselves to delve into the fiery hells
that live within the hearts of men.
When we learn to make a daisy chain
when we learn that each man or woman slain in the name of God above
will we ever learn of this thing called love.
If and when we start to live in peace again
I wonder if we'll begin to see
daisy chains are not all they're cracked up to be.
The mirror spoke before it broke of another reflection back in time
another line
another chain
another hundred thousand slain
and told of not who was to blame
but pointed wearily
at me.
Closing my eyes, I dare to realize, I have broken hearts and done so much wrong, if every tear was a wrong, then so many wrongs have been done, every laugh is just a lie, and every goodbye is a prick to my heart, just on chance to make it right but without you its just not right
I search and search every day
for that little boy who will play
the strings of my heart like
his favorite guitar
He says his dreams will take him far
as his lips press lightly
on the nape of my neck
He would trek 1,000 miles
just to make me smile
because he says I'm the only
thing that matters much
anymore
His past is pained but
that doesn't mean it has to mame
his future
FAME is not what he wants
His maturity never ceases to amaze me
A beautiful contrast to his constant
childlike ability to add light to any room
or give a smile to any star
It's sad that he won't go as far as he'd planned
I must condem him to memory
his freckles and the feeling of
running my fingers through his hair
It isn't fair that he was never there
in the first place
