She is the proof that's in the pudding
She is the meadow in the green
The very moment the I rely
The tree on which I lean
She will rise and be a blessing
She shares all that she is
And if there is any of her left
Gives away the last bit of it
She is one and she is more
She is all hopes and dreams
If your into keeping score
She is that and all of these
There is a movement to her walk
There is a softness in her touch
Where she is there is all
And all of her is in the love
She is the step outside the line
She is the peak you strive to reach
She is the laughter in the light
She is the hunger in the need
She is the one I'm speaking of
The deck of cards with jokers wild
The heartbeat of the kindred spirit
She is woman, tender child
i wake from a nightmare,
a nightmare where i was alone.
i was cold,
frozen to the bone,
and in a lightless place.
i feel my love behind me,
not quite touching,
but there all the same.
my heart flutters in happiness,
still recovering from the scare i got.
i can sense them like a detached limb,
i always know where they are.
they haven’t moved in a while,
they must be in a deep slumber.
i realize its freezing,
roll over and snuggle closer to my love,
a comforting smell,
a warm body.
i reach my fingers out further,
only more coldness.
i stretch my limbs out to resemble a star fish.
touching all corners of my bed.
my heart wavers,
they were never there.
i never had them beside me,
never had been in love.
it wasn’t a nightmare,
it was real.
There once was a man who said you could beat the world with your words. That you could conquer an army with the knowledge of a greater narrative and move the legions of many with the action of one verb. I want to believe who ever can recreate the frameworks our race. The foundational narrative of our moral ethic, the guidelines mankind has been leaning on for millenniums. I want to know a alternative story, with made up words and no respect for a-priori intuition or tradition but a legend of unabiding experience that is unlike any tangent or discourse known. I want to reinvent another codex.
I saw god as the architect I consoled in the grand tree house, with the grand green house sitting in a quaint english archway. The telescope room was laid with bricks and from it I could see all that made me content. I felt the time changing before my eyes. Whether I was in compromise or not was entirely up to the seasons of zeus.
I am now never afraid of myself, I almost died and I remember it all. I have known fear and still revere the quenching of it's animosity. I am only a swerving flake of inner rind. I am all that is exhausted of my honest dive for humanity. I am me finally, a shell no more! Man is the helplessness of lost spatiality in his own timid surrealism. I have never been satisfied with the explanations no matter how exhaustive! Revisited by the techni-color outlook of the turning millennium craze. The alleviation of all hopes when they turned out a dead end inthemselves, a lost avenue of my childhood.
I guess we all wanted that age-old rampant abuse of youth in ways that were neither aesthetically pleasing or unifying towards our own, best. I was tired of the beautiful sprites I grew up with. I was tired of locking myself in closets at nights and rubbing my face into the it's knotted carpet floor. I'm tired of the songs that advocated joyful frolicking into the drapped daylight. The oddities grow old and the used up phrase are clique now. I lost my mind seeing the years of my language frightened by the sound of my own breath. Grow into yourself. I am done with you anyways. I am done seeing them engulf a titanic drift of colorful intentions; flirting around the grand bonfire of the uncreated experience. I am lost with them. I question more than just our own value and I resign my thoughts on themselves for their own wealth and safety. When you want it said so bad but the forces of those unforeseen, creative hives oscillate and never stop it's steps into the night-legend. Then the world ends and was never in out of tension. I electrify my time and run into the a.m. frantic like a monkey, waving around and jesting my arms. I'm tired of the old music, in with the artifacts who architect the reverberation of my heart.
Your myth has lived into the century and I can see your ideas into the lives of all maniacs and the honest young, the deranged youth. We are amidst a heavy tension, i cry again. I want my mother's words three times a day and more on my weak hours. I am content in the alien maze of my music and want only the childhood campers to love me like a king. They gathered around at night, around the campfire. They initiated the song and dance with gaiety rhythm; that was the nights stars collided into bedtime. The same night I was torn by the dreams of an old horrid man who gave me no name and no rest from tear and horror. What evil is an anonymous the Will that censors awareness and knowledge. If it kills
So what then of the tribal pack psyche we all inherit. In days where beauty was up to chance. Our proximity to a woman was determined by breeding patterns and the realm of funds available for travel and food. What now in these days of the internet? When the whole world is at the tops of our finger tips and even more far away is the understanding we gain of our inability to have the cream of the world. We are in a great exaggeration of ourselves, of our will, and of our determined out-come. We have little but the pessimisme of our predecessors to guide our philosophies application. The translation of dream-world is perfectly out of reach for us and always for our posterity. From here on out we are a new age. A new age whose gates are christened by the ungenuine thugs and malevolent brand names of our civilization. We are faking it till the end. I am scared and drilled by horror and filled more with black premonitions. I wish I had eyes to see myself with a more generous charity but I don't and neither do you. What you see is an age of outward anticipation for the soring ribbons of undone realities.
The artist is the one who has seen the broad fleeting wisp of an out-of-world innuendo. It is the ethereal encounter with a cognitive defect that mimic as a supernatural sensation, this is seen by the artist as true humanity and rightfully so as it brings him to tears.
I always forget that we are always on the cusp. That we are simply a few bruised years away from reveling in the stained, sealed golden sunlight of the age that has came. What we do now is entirely crucial to our ability to be in unending sorrow and remorse. We see our people in a clearer way, for what they where struggling with, for what their reverie finally came to look like, ugly or gleefully self created, their vision of the world will always be our continual source of inspiration.
Even if i wanted to let you in, where would you go?
To which universe inside me would your consciousness reach?
Which pieces of my untrained past,
will you touch with your pointed emotions?
To which heart will you march?
For there are many,
some cold, indifferent,
some calculating, tired,
and even some still flushed with naivety.
You can navigate my poisons,
creep through every ache I've known,
twisting into depths, i have yet to reach.
But you cannot fix me,
because a fundamental part of me is broken.
and one heart will always be irreparable,
because you will have faded away,
i will have lost you within myself
My mind is high up somewhere today.
In these clouds maybe, too far for me to reach.
It leaves me dizzy, desirous...
I feel so sleepy.
I crave sleep,
for a deep, still pool of rest,
in the arms of love.
To feel protected and safe.
I want to be guarded like a vast treasure.
Where is my knight, the one where I see my reflection in
his armor, where I see burning eyes and burning hands that
love throughout the night...
Where's someone to always be there?
And I know.
Believe me, I know.
I should look inside myself for these things,
create my own light for this
dark place inside of me.
But I don't want to become The Hermit,
and carry this flickering lantern in the dubious storm of myself,
where there's snow and sleet and
bone shattering winds, forever to wander alone.
I want to find my puzzle piece, my chemical solution.
There must be a cure to this plague of loneliness.
Someone to be the balm that eases the pain
"No more, no more.
You are safe here, with me."
(c) May 21, 2013
You’re a puzzle
Thousands of missing pieces
When I reach to hold you
I touch the missing spaces
You’re going nowhere
Pedal to the metal
Hope this high will last
“Do you see me?”
Your mother snaps.
Can’t hear. Ears
overflowing with schnapps
Addiction coded in genes.
Father to son it passes
The pattern continues
Passed along in vodka glasses
It was just a little test for myself
Sometimes I like to do that, throw little challenges here and there
I wanted to see if I could do what most girls fail at
I wondered if I could spend the night with the cutest guy in school and not get attached
A little drugs, a little drinking, the rest of the night together making memories he wouldn't remember
But I woke up in the morning and left, freaking out
I picked up my clothes and tried to put them on silently so I wouldn't wake him up
I didn't want him to be angry
He truly does have the most beautiful face I've ever seen
Before I snuck out the door left ajar,
I peeked back at him
I'd never seen his hair product-less and messy like that
I'd never seen his face so far away, thousands of miles in dreams and thoughts
This man who drank and swore and didn't seem to have any soul at all
Then looked to me like a beautiful, vulnerable child
I knew I had to get out before the feelings came so I ditched that room as fast as possible
I hopped over unconscious bodies still recovering from the haze of the previous night's party
I finally found an empty recliner
And dozed off
I woke up two hours later in a fright
I was in a room full of people I didn't even like
Why did I go to that party anyway
Those were not my people
Drugs and drinking were not my thing
Oh, now I remember
It was his birthday party
He who held me like a baby after a night of acts that would make any mother cringe
I knew this recliner was a bad idea and wondered if there was any way I could get back in bed with that beautiful boy
I knew I'd always regret it if I didn't
I opened the door as silently as possible
and crawled back under those thick white sheets
I tried to lay as far away as possible,
because people who don't have feelings for each other do not need to hold each other more than necessary
And he had none for me
And I could not have feelings for him
Just when I felt a hollow sadness strike
He reached out his foot and placed it adjacent to mine, a small gesture
I let his instep match mine and sighed inexorably with content
This little touch filled me with a happiness I'd never known
No feelings though, remember?
I chased that thought away and let my other foot get tangled up in his
My legs followed and soon we were cuddled up again
I peeked at him again and saw a trace of a smile on that (hungover and half-asleep, but beautiful) face
I wanted to kiss him but I wasn't sure if that was allowed
So I just pressed my smile against his arm
We laid there forever it seemed
Eventually though, he held me out at arms length and leaned away from me and began to cough
He coughed a few times and apologized,
then coughed just a few more
Then he went back to sleep
I can't explain the way I felt when those coughs hit him
I wanted to reach out and hold him
I know he smokes way too much
But I felt like it was my fault his lungs weren't perfect
I wanted to protect him from all things bad like coughing
All the signs were there before, now that I look back
But that's the exact moment when I knew feelings were going to be a problem
To see the sun, just one last time
Dawn forever breaking
To reach the stars and make them mine
The world forever shaken
To start a fire inside the heart
The reach the end, to reach the start
To find a home, a place to be
To lose your sight, to really see
To keep a lie and find the truth
To hold it tight, but let it loose
To find true love, to hear winds chime
To see the sun, just one last time
An evil green and yellow hand
Reaching from the closet
Drips and drops of drool
Are crashing the tense silence
Claws reach out from under the bed
Tortured faces loom
Wing flaps and screeches sound overhead
Echoing in the room
A scream tightens in your throat
And lunges through your mouth
Mom and Daddy come running
Lights click on, you can finally see
An ugly knitted sweater
The hanger topsy-turvy
The drips and drops aren’t drool
Unless the faucet is hungry
Every bear has its claws
But Teddy’s are first rate
Illumination from the nightlight
Casts shadows on the wall
And the ceiling fan is fast
Like the bouncing of a ball
The lights go out
Your parents leave
But another scream is building –
They each had three feet!
The leaves of my family tree are few but the vibrant color display scattered across its branches makes it reach incredible heights.
Some nights I think about how we all mesh together into this spectacular rainbow , yea I really love those nights.
Looking back I know my Momma had no idea how hard it would be having a family like ours.
Each child from a different man that didn't stick around,but in her eyes we were shinning stars.
Momma took in young souls that had nowhere to go and gave them a place to call home.
In my eyes it just made sense that they became family because it was all I have ever known.
Most families are bound by blood, while that was partly true about ours, it was also held together by something more.
As time went by we had lil ones of our own ,I wish more than anything Momma could see how our beautiful tree has grown.