Tears are bound to fall in the winter time.
When thoughts becomes frosted over, frozen,
outside of the primordial locus
of fleeting, flashing feelings.
Dew drop diamonds on cheeks,
Become icicles,
That stick out like vampire teeth.
Painfully piercing through the gums.
Early morning cigarettes leave a permeating sting.
Icy thoughts of weakness,
How we won’t make it through
this frozen tundra,
winter,
with its thrashing and bludgeoning.
Yet,
Hopeful for spring,
That icicles will crack their caterpillar cocoons,
And our tears will ride bicycles
on sunny days,
and board wayward trains
to far away destinations.
But For now it is December….
Fading into a soon forgotten January.
Dec 21, 2021
Dec 21, 2021 at 3:54 AM UTC
San Fransisco, I’d been here plenty before, but the embers of the city that glowed faintly in mind we’re made up of imagined scenarios I’d lit in my head, a bonfire glowing in the future I dreamed existed outside my parents house.
Now July has come, and I had long ago left the room of my parents house behind, and I had spent the last year experiencing dreams in my waking life in a mountain town.
But in July, the bonfire of San Fransisco, that had become embers in my mind, roared right before my eyes and I walk the city streets, awake in a world of made up dreams, that keep me thinking I’m asleep, and waiting to awake, standing knee deep in my waders, in a river or stream in the mountain town I had to let go.
Jul 27, 2021
Jul 27, 2021 at 5:36 PM UTC
Living feels like I’m constantly raging against the nothingness of existing,
like I’m living with all the bounds of humanity, that mean nothing,
to find a purpose to waking up, and breathing and being, other than slowly dying along the way.
And I spend all my energy trying to build a bridge between the duality of life and death, that constantly keeps me a raging builder and an awful architect.
Jul 24, 2021
Jul 24, 2021 at 2:39 AM UTC
Please no more sunlight.
Bring your thunder,
Make the sky quake with your wonder.
I am your earth to Pilage and plunder.
Jul 23, 2021
Jul 23, 2021 at 11:35 AM UTC
We rock off the socks of all the kids down the block, who come out to the shows to get away.
and we play music sweet like honey dew but our instruments don’t talk the way money do.
We play sounds that pack a punch of the kid who’s parents don’t love him enough to make him lunch, so he hits the kid just doing his best until his stomach is fed and his starving heart is all that’s left.
And when the man with the sweet tea smile walks in to collect, he will line his pockets and pat us on the back with the hand that just stole a nights meal cause what left will go to the rent.
The starving artist will die by a needle tip, because he tied off his urge to eat with a band on the arm. Said he was injecting inspiration into his veins so he could write a new song to play and cover up his hearts hunger pains, and feed dying dreams.
But Look mom Im in a band and well rock your socks off down at the local club, and feed the hungry pigs that keep us as pets, cause they make good company for starving artists that live for dreams and fear dying of regret.
Oct 18, 2019
Oct 18, 2019 at 4:17 PM UTC
Moonlit skin,
reveals exoskeleton.
All the Words kept hidden,
And I want to read more.
Aug 14, 2019
Aug 14, 2019 at 2:53 PM UTC
My flesh,
carnal,
coursed with Fire.
No shame in desire.
Aug 14, 2019
Aug 14, 2019 at 2:53 PM UTC
When you feel buried under cosmic expectations, just remember that stars burn out too.
Aug 12, 2019
Aug 12, 2019 at 1:15 AM UTC
Go in the direction your heart pulls; resistance is pain.
Aug 10, 2019
Aug 10, 2019 at 1:53 AM UTC
Dizzy from energy spilling,
pulling towards unknown paths,
and yet I’m holding back.
Dizzy, she stands feeling the eyes of strangers peering into her soul,
when they will never know her past steps and her regrets.
She spins in the sea of sentimentality’s and reality’s.
Jul 12, 2019
Jul 12, 2019 at 12:55 AM UTC