The morning started with a shower
Arms braced against the wall in a kind of supplication
Pushing hard so damn hard you want to fall
You let the water wash your dreams and pain away
The morning started with you leaving
Saying I'm so nice as you walk out the door
I know your tired cause we didn't sleep
I remember your whispered promises that were quickly disposed of
The morning started with you lying next to me
While I played Rilo Kiley
So close I could touch you but I could tell you didn't want to be touched
"Sometimes in the morning I am petrified and can’t move
Awake but cannot open my eyes
And the weight is crushing down on my lungs
I know I can’t breathe
And I hope someone will help me this time..."
I played it in a moment of honesty
My one true expression as I watched the distance grow between us
I wanted to fuck you again cause I hoped it would mean something
Thank you for teaching me that the third time is the charm and the fourth is for sleeping not fucking
It's hard to find this kind of rejection early in the morning. Thanks for staying open late to accommodate me.
The morning started with me laughing at you when you said where's the underwear?
Writers can laugh at painful parallels and prophesy true unintentionally but not uneventfully
It doesn't help me not want to fuck you again
So we fuck again for the third time. The last time.
You kiss less when your not drunk
The morning started with some smoke and water and generic Advil
Proscribed to all the fallen like vitamins
You look good naked
Next to me
I wonder what this morning will bring?
This morning started with me inside you the second time
You made me cum inside you like you wanted something that I had to give
Maybe love maybe pain -you did like to be hurt
You didn't remember that I said I want to hurt you less cause I actually like you
I choked you cause you wanted it more than me
I feel like Kriegers robot arm sometimes
Perhaps we could just affix a cock to the arm and I could be replaced
Go on vacation to the city of lost whore sluts
I hear the buffet there is wonderful
The morning started with me inside you
On the kitchen floor
I threw you up against the wall too hard
You fell down so I took you right there
On the linoluem Under flourecent lights
You were so tight and tender and tough
You fucked me desperately like you hadn't been getting enough
Sorry for banging your head up against the fridge
The morning started with you next to me
Both of us drunk
You kissed me right
Out of the many there are few that do it
It's a weakness for me and dangerous to believe in the power of knowing through a kiss
You dry humped me like a dog on speed
It felt good
That and the kissing
I said no
I wouldn't fuck you
Like I said before
You said it had been to long
That you never did this
I said I needed to wait
That I liked you
I didn't want you to be just a fuck
Not just for you
But for me
Sometimes even seasoned whores need to feel special
I said that I'd fall too quick
You can be very persuasive
The morning started with me on the couch with your friend
We had makers and he had Jameson
He called it neat but it had Ice
I didn't say anything
You told him that you knew me for a long time and that i was gay
In retrospect it probably helped that I talked about color and carpets and paintings and poetry
I tried not laugh as we tried to pass of our little deceptive parody
Sure it was successful but what does it really say about me that he'd believe it
Oh the irony of pretending to be gay to get a girl
The things we do
He left after a long soliloquy on decorating and fashion
I think you might be like me and sometimes confuse the facts of your friends and stories with your dreams
I thought your adept practiced and surreptitious deception was endearing
I wanted to kiss you all night so I was glad he left
After he was gone I told you in the bathroom that I wanted to kiss you all night and you dropped your pants and peed in front me
You looked at me like no big deal and said what I don't care
I really starting liking you then
The morning started at the bar the night before
You sat down and smiled and flirted with me
You told me I would have to wait a year and a half to fuck you
As we drank way too much and both grew more beautiful and gracious with every ounce of liquid forgetfulness
The morning started the night before at your work when I hit on you cause you were laughing and smiling and had a little halo
The morning started like any other morning
With lies and rejection and sweetness and passion and loneliness
If I knew I was going to be used like this
I would have used a condom
Not to just protect against the std's but to protect from intimacy
I hope I won't fail on both counts
A little worried
That's why I write this story
You are a slave;
To your own ideals
To your contradictions
To your actions
To where you stand now,
Where they make you stand.
You are a fucking robot
They gave you batteries for your beating heart
Recharging you day by day,
Filling you with the nonsensical bullshit you believe to be a pulse
Be free from their obscenity
Free the robots
I can't take your calls anymore
Something's just not right with your mind
I can't stand the way you try to control the things you can't help in your life
Because even when the skys are blue
Your still living in a tragedy
And even when its going good
Your still impossible to deal with
I wish you could see yourself
Take a good hard look
I wish you could just be yourself
Your trying to impress the world
But your just another mindless, failing robot
Circling the depths of nonsense and chaos
You're a product of the dogma that comsumes the currupted mind
One that stabs uncertainty with darkness instead of light
But somethings are not exactly what they seem
Sometimes I'm forced to drown in echoed bloody screams
And pretend to be somewhere else in this misery
I'll pretend you were only trying to protect me
As I wish upon another hopeless, dimming shooting star
Concentrate on anything else but this headache you make pound on my brain
If only magic exsisted
And I had it in me
To just fly out of this nightmare and into the sky
Would you leave me alone and stop calling
Because I can't take your phone calls anymore
You know it's not just me
We all voted and the consensus was apathy
Paper-maiche homogenized politicians are so transparent
We just couldn't fake it without an alternative to replace it
So we collectively sighed stayed at home and shook our heads
Whatever if this is the best we can do it's better to do nothing instead
So we dig for books about faces drink tumblers listen to the sound of clouds too
Any sense of distraction after a fashion to run away from truth
You see we have cheap beer fast food pizza delivery
We can find adult friends online and watch porn for free
It's easy to miss love truth kindness compassion integrity
It's blinking on our screen but the notification is so annoying to me
So let's all gorge on twittering wings drowning in endless hours of shows videos and TV
Let's all fuck each other senseless in hollow loveless robot abandon
It seems we may have seen too many apocalyptic zombie war vampire movies
We're all terrified certain the end is soon so what's the point of making plans then?
By the way I'm no better and am ruled by nagging gnawing knowing doubt
I have no contributions or solutions just problems to bitch about
Can we both just quiet our dreams gently and promise not to discuss
Why we accept fate sadly and settle for the substitutions of happiness passed to us
Azrael Always James
© Copyright 2013
Life with the Ponds
There was a girl
that I knew for years
When young, she was strong
And had little fears.
When older, she engaged
to a man with such glory.
But she waited so long
to tell me of Rory.
Then we started, with time,
to bring him along.
And in less than a minute,
her Rory was gone.
He vanished from time
and Amy forgot.
While, as my curse,
I sadly did not.
But then with a bang,
the boy did return,
when he was desperately needed,
when life wouldn't burn.
A brave soldier he was
with little to no fears.
He sat there with Amy
for 2,000 years.
Then we saved the world.
Reset, it would be,
but, in return,
it would lose me.
On my way back
through the turning of time,
I took notice
of this cursed life of mine.
Soon through the flashback,
which showed little glory,
I stopped in my path
to tell Amy a story.
It brought me back
into the world.
In time for a wedding
of a boy and a girl.
I had a calling
from the groom's bride.
"Oh Doctor, my doctor,
you cannot hide
You're not imagined,
you are so real.
Come back through the crack
so that it can heal."
And soon I did
as the wind blew
I arrived in a tux,
and brought something blue.
After awhile,
we set off again
Me, happy as ever,
with my two best friends.
And, after that,
It didn't take long
til we went to war,
til they had River Song.
Her life was confusing,
and converged into mine
I didn't realize
she was a lady of time.
When young, she was stolen.
Being trained, was she.
All of that work
just to kill me.
She almost succeeded
but it wasn't too late.
She gave me her lives.
She'd never regenerate.
Later, we'd marry,
when I was to die.
That's what earth needed
to move forward in time.
But yet I survived
in a robot of me
"Oh, clever Doctor,
how could this be?"
I know it confuses,
but one must not know.
It could fill up your brain
so much it might blow.
Now, on with the story,
it's soon to end.
I do not like it,
but it's hard to pretend.
We found Dinosaurs, cowboys,
we held the power of three,
but then came the angels.
They took them from me.
My sweet little pond,
and one of her boys.
I was so broken.
I lost all my poise.
Before all of this,
we ran, and we ran
But now there's no running
"Goodbye, Raggedy Man.
Thomas O’Keene, like most little boys, imagined great things when he played with his toys.
In the big room that he shared with his brothers, he would make a big tent with all the bed covers.
Inside his great castle, he played and he dreamed, of far away places and fabulous things.
He played giant robots, who came from the stars, with swords made of lasers and dinosaur cars.
He’d pretend to be heroes from his video games, who ate yellow flowers and then shot out flames.
Thomas told tales of all that he saw, like the one-eyed stink monster with the big yellow claw;
a creature to others unseen, but was always around when Thomas ate beans.
Or how purple aliens had taken his juice, it was to fuel their invasion, of this he had proof.
His mother would scold him, “Thomas stop telling stories.” How many times had she told him?
She sent him to bed, and away slunk poor Thomas hanging his head.
It was only ten past eight, and he never got to stay up late.
Then Tom had an idea; he knew just what to do. He’d show them that all of his stories were true.
He would build a machine, so they could all see the wonders known only to he.
He found a box, some stinky socks, parts from a clock and a few small rocks. Some peanut butter, a toy boat rudder, a number 2 , his brothers shoe, and about two bottles of school glue, a broken video game controller, wheels from the baby stroller, some batteries from the remote, a rubber ducky swimming float.
He pulled and stretched, pushed and vexed, hammered and rammed, and screwed and jammed.
Finally complete, though not very neat, he sat down for the start of his job and slowly turned a big red knob .
But nothing happened. What could be wrong? He didn't know why it wouldn't turn on.
The machine was no good and this made Thomas sick. Frustrated, he gave it a kick.
The machine came to life. It shimmered and whined, and gave off the faint scent of pine.
Then there was a rumble that shook the whole room along with a great big kaboom!
Thomas covered his ears and shut his eyes tight, and what he saw when they opened was quite a strange sight.
There crouched down in his room was a giant robot from an alien moon!
Then right beside it, as big as a could be, was his dinosaur car the T-rex X3.
But this was not all that came from inside the machine, other things began to be seen.
He had done it, they were all here, in his room so perfectly clear.
“You stay right here,” he said with a cheer.
Now he ran to get his mother and father and brothers to show them that these were not make believe others.
Then he heard a loud crash that came from his room.
He stopped in the hall and then came the boom.
Thomas rushed back and found a smoking hole in the wall almost 10 feet wide and 8 feet tall!
His robot was gone and so were the others, and then he heard a call from his mother.
“Thomas, what was that noise?!” Thomas thought quickly. “Nothing mom. I'm just playing with toys.”
“Put those toys away and get back in bed!” was his mothers reply to what was not really a lie.
Thomas was scared and didn't know what to do.
How could he fix this, he was all out of glue.
Then he saw a blue crayon and snatched it up quick.
He hoped this would work, it must do the trick.
On the cardboard box side he scribbled "reset".
then drew a big circular button pressed it.
Thomas held his breath and thought as he did.
Why oh why had he not built a lid?
He waited there silent for a moment or two,
then opened his eyes and just saw his room.
No holes in the wall, no great robot man,
just bunk beds and toys and the lamp on it's stand.
He looked down before him and beheld his machine.
"Never again..." thought Thomas and went off too his dreams.
This trail leads to the animal crossing
It fails to accommodate intrepid adventurers,
Bushy tailed explorers, mountain climbers,
Talkers to squirrels and chewers of pine pitch.
The divine medicine denies us the headspace to believe we're really dead,
The reclined estrogen felt good against twenty million years of insecurity
Golden-layered, factually flawed
It lay exposed for decades
Rusting innards and misfiring sparks
None of the heavy equipment does what it says
Robot arms move with intensity
No programmer yet programs tenderness
The limiting factor has always attracted the acting crowd
Always desperate for theatrical work they magically appear
When it's clear that they're needed
But heed the warnings, they're known to be cheaters; the people who say so could also be wife-beaters
No need to wait for a stereotype
Follow the one you haven't lost touch with
autism to blame
for the white in white
male
(I blame)
sex
for shared abstinence (I blame)
my former self for my
former
transference my baseline
jumper on
poverty the gnome
in your front yard on tough
interior
art
1). If you want to you can fight time
and it takes no time at all.
2). When you want to run
stop and think about it more.
H E L P ! it does not, and won’t at all
for you are just a ROBOT and nothing more
then go> to stop.
3). After ten years or so repeat
step 1).
Made up
Of smut
Dim luck
And fucks
Not given
With a finger
In the air
The wild
In the air
Lingering
In the fair
Weather
Friendships
In pairs
I'm here
And i'm not
I'm a fearless
Robot
When i plot
What is to be
What is to not
Hell is cold
And heaven hot
But none can be
Anything
With logic
Dropped
On fairies crops
I'm high
But low
Always on top
I lurk
In shadows
Smirking
Not
Love me
Love me not
Fuck me
Chuck me
Reluctant
To even
Stop
Stab you
Strangle you
Ease you down
Love you
Tangle you
My love
Is profound
