at night I have dreams of dancing with the dead
their eyes all turning skyward and holes all in their heads
the come and take my hand, lead me out to the floor
but the musicians have all gone home so there's no music any more
so we sway in silence to the beat of borrowed time
they're smiling with all their teeth and I keep losing all of mine
the moon comes through the ceiling and slowly it descends
it get down to the ground but still doesn't seem to end
it falls right on through the floor to back from wherever it came
so I dive down in right beside it hoping that I'll do the same
Jul 31, 2019
Jul 31, 2019 at 2:00 PM UTC
the waves crash upon the beach
but still the mountain grows
though patience is thin
a sparrow dips and dives above the crowd
singing all the while
it's the clearest sound in the world
the wind picks up
there it is
that old familiar
thick enough to taste
if things were only still
buried coals finally catch
with new light
flame spreads
there is death and destruction in the hills tonight
aren't we all just the same strays
old and worn out and lonely
castaways
what else do they have to lose
lets see what we can get
the world looks very different tonight
the cloven rejoice under torn banners
crow upon a mangled throne
maintain a tangled crown
as if that's all that makes a king
Nov 19, 2018
Nov 19, 2018 at 3:40 PM UTC
As the fire of knowledge grows, the more it illuminates all the things we have yet to know. It begins to seem that most preconceived notions are nothing more than petty misconceptions. Perspective is relative but not always relevant. And yes, sometimes it can be stupid and pointless and boring. But that doesn’t make it worthless. If it’s all a game anyways, a game you have to play, why not play to win? Accept that sometimes importance is self-fulfilled. It matters because it exists. It exists because it matters. So stop being afraid to admit when you’re wrong. Learn from it. Move on. Stop trying to be perfect and just try to be good
Nov 5, 2018
Nov 5, 2018 at 6:09 PM UTC
We meddle and blame the seed for being buried in the ground.
We built bridges! roads! schools! abroad
all the while we allow our own to ground to dust.
We spent billions on bombs
we drop on weddings
on the other side of the world.
All this, while allowing 1/6 of our kids to be "food-insecure"
whatever the **** that means.
Our courts are less justice and more criminal.
Our politicians base success on 're-electability'
not how they've improved our lives.
Our happiness is collateral-gain.
We tread on poverty while rejoicing among the virtues of the rich.
The most basic humanities are reduced to tired pawns
in the minds of millions
and we are the American dream.
Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 7:26 PM UTC
some days i don't feel like waking up. but i can hear you tell me to try a little harder. stop standing in my own way. it'll be better today.
it's been so touch-and-go, i don't even know what it's about anymore. so many words. not nearly as many meanings. pretending like i've ever learned anything.
just a time and a place and a name. a wooden frame and a photograph.
the candles have all burned out but the memory remains.
May 11, 2018
May 11, 2018 at 11:13 PM UTC
it can't ever be justice for all if you're only making amends with the things you think you love. when it's always up hill both ways. good luck, goodbye, good riddance. and the ground's always so littered with old thoughts and half-hearted prayers. some nights we gather and wonder if things will ever be the same again.
May 11, 2018
May 11, 2018 at 10:59 PM UTC
and it can't be justice for all if you only make amends with the things you think you love. for the rest, it's uphill both ways. good luck, goodbye, and good riddance.
you smug sonofabitch. i'll have you know my father died right along with the rest of them! wide-eyed and wild the day he was born! i think i've earned the right!
you're not righteous, or enlightened. nothing you love is original. you're a cynic, a parasite, a bore. a festering wound that should have long been a scar by now. you're only happy when you're miserable.
it's easy to draw them in, you know. even hold them for awhile.
eventually, the rot sets in. then it's as it ever was.
the flower may wither, my child, but the roots stay strong and deep. we'll be back. as it ever was.
Mar 10, 2018
Mar 10, 2018 at 12:24 AM UTC
it's okay to have feelings, but it's not okay to keep them all to yourself. stop viewing those tears as weakness; start appreciating them for what they really are: progress! forget all the ******** you've been through. remember that you're more worthwhile than ever. we love you, we're proud of you, and we appreciate you. and yes we will wait for you, no matter how long it takes.
Mar 10, 2018
Mar 10, 2018 at 12:12 AM UTC
and he wonders when this dream will end. he wonders if it's actually a dream, or just a particularly persistent fragment of a memory. "all is made to thrill," he thinks, "smiles are fleeting and beauty is still." and still, even if it'd all been done before, who wouldn't give their whole life to do it all again?
but he knows there's no time. the summer is already up and running and we're so tired and they're all so disappointed. people make promises that break all the time. although there's an assurance in assuming, at times he missed the simple comforts of being sad.
Mar 10, 2018
Mar 10, 2018 at 12:01 AM UTC
They drove out one night, on a whim. It was a sprawling thing; a shrine guarded by foreign collection, reconfigured and asleep on their feet. They crept through the open doors, tiny frogs and spiders and lizards littering every inch. A droning permeates from somewhere deep within. A discarded book upon the floor, not but records of sacrifice and lies to the dead. Suddenly, a spark. An inescapable glow, this mess of fire, growing brighter all the while. Now the tools, the taste, the tenor. A man gives what he can. The offering will take, or it won't. And you, with all those sticky fingers! They steal away again, homeward bound; the faintest remnants of that glorious spark dancing in their downcast eyes. It will take, or it won't. Everything is static, nothing stays the same. They know that nothing lasts forever.
Feb 16, 2018
Feb 16, 2018 at 8:45 PM UTC