This head on a spike
Well it's turning blue
Talking 'bout why I'd like
The splendor of his view
"From up on high"
he says to me
"All thing under the sky are mine to see"
And long and hard I sat and thought
of things for me my body got
and then I stood with my decree
and hoped he'd make good company
May 14, 2010
May 14, 2010 at 4:46 PM UTC
Introspection is cheaper than a horror film and its nightmares will chase you long after Freddy's hands are arthritic and the blades they operate are rusty and impotent. Here I am in this roach den with musty sheets and carpet stains. The place I retreat to in blind panic without considering escape. Here it is, peeling wallpaper and cigarette burns are the hems of skirts you tug and cry to, PICK ME UP PICK ME UP! Inside it is empty, truly empty, no trace of a whispering current in the draft or its cryptic revelations woven under the surface, no beetles scrambling around the corpse to tell its secrets. There is truly nothing and I don't know who called this vacancy "inner peace". It's a motel room with empty drawers and the water is some shade of red and every page has been torn from the Gideon's Bible to roll joints and make origami cranes and free throws into wastebaskets filled with scribbled poetry and compulsively written lists.
May 14, 2010
May 14, 2010 at 4:44 PM UTC
Your backseat,
that backward pickpocket,
that schemer taking cell phones and jackets and wallets
the pilfered seeds sewn, like lighthouses when they sprout
guiding me back again
back to you
back to that ******* backseat
May 14, 2010
May 14, 2010 at 4:43 PM UTC
I'm an infant
crawling with unformed senses from arm to arm
ready to be mystified if I knew the meaning of the word
Feeling the curves and dimensions of the world
of its curious things with lips and fumbling fingers
Green as a rye mold
and my dreams are hallucinations brought on by its consumption
May 14, 2010
May 14, 2010 at 4:42 PM UTC
A showdown on Sunset
At sundown the two met
A breakdown of Corvettes
Cellphones drawn by execs
From holsters, my wild west
On speed dial is the best
Lawyers to slow down, lay to rest
This showdown of suits neatly pressed
Mar 28, 2010
Mar 28, 2010 at 6:25 PM UTC
Oh, the ineffectual deluded intellectual
Cream of the crop barstool philosopher
Yes, you are included
Potential does not excuse the fool
Nor does a place at the top
In debates at coffeeshops
Indicate a prowess that places beyond school
Unbound by reality is your perception
Of yourself as some exception
Some paragon of cool
Please proceed with your perspective
Surely there is no source better respected
Mar 23, 2010
Mar 23, 2010 at 9:43 PM UTC
My mind it's bent and sanity spent
To stay I must pay rent each day
Too deep in debt I must invent
The tenents who president and sway
They're here and clearly won't relent
Grown fond of say in the events
They steer me into foggy gray
Veer from the sun, its every ray
Mar 23, 2010
Mar 23, 2010 at 8:59 PM UTC
A pale clouded gaze betrays his depression
To observers of his pained expression
The cast of ghosts in his stories
Are joined in morbid succession
By faceless names that tangle
In webs indecipherabley knotted
Seldom unraveled are histories
Of faces so wrinkled and rotted
The tragedy of burrowed dreams
The eye's gleam down below
When they've already spotted
A grave before it's body's has been plotted.
Mar 23, 2010
Mar 23, 2010 at 8:26 PM UTC
Refuge from reality
Neverland's necessity
Chasing the whims of Shadow
Crowing at the moon's sad glow
Freedom from monotony
A childhood philosophy
Perseveres in light of fears
Long adheres in spite of years
Flee the world of decision
Distance mistake's incision
A brash heart's circumcision
Nulls care of peer's derision.
"You gotta let go and crow!"
Mar 23, 2010
Mar 23, 2010 at 7:34 PM UTC
Lonely wrath flows undaunted.
Solitude grows intentions, haunted.
Warped by wayward wanting.
Cruelty sharpens savage impulse,
A call forever taunting.
Twisting, hardly resisting action,
Dark fantasies consume factions,
Of a psyche ripped in fractions.
Mar 23, 2010
Mar 23, 2010 at 7:27 PM UTC