You mean if I don't go extinct,
I guess I'm free,
as free as anyone is in this world,
with Destiny glaring at me from her Window,
Her eyelids fluttering in anticipatory teases,
and yet to flirt with her is to invite Doom into your pocket,
Even if she does gaze the glance of her blessing on you,
your date with her is, ultimately, set
the supper is bitter, and her wine that which lulls in the sleep of the ages,
until thence, she changes tables, and woos another suitor.
we all must have that sour meal with her sitting quaintly across, smiling demurely, yet knowingly,
So, until the time comes to sit at her table, wrest free from her shackles the very smallest bits of will
tho it make her jealous, her envy 'tis thus of you still.
Feb 5, 2013
Feb 5, 2013 at 1:29 PM UTC
No Time machine
Can save me now
I can forgive you
For lying and cheating
For breaking my soul
But I can’t forgive the fool
After so many chances
Who still failed, walked away
Tried so hard, just to let it go
And old friend I haven’t
Seen in years
Came to me in a nightmare
said, “what about now?’
I said 90, no 80 percent
And knew I was lying
Even in my sleep, my dream
I know that it is me
That I cannot forgive
This failure haunts me
This nightmare awakens me
To what I already know
All the worse
Is the dichotomy, presently
That if I were the fool I was then
I’d be happier now
And if I was the man I am now
I’d have been happier then
That if I were the fool I was then
I’d be happier now
And if I was the man I am now
I’d have been happier then
Can’t be who I need to be when I need to be them
Like I said
No Time machine
Can save me now
The definition of too late
Nothing I can change
Will ever make it right
Somehow nothing I do
Will take the currently
Empty, aching, singular
Point in side my mind
And fill it with you
Feb 5, 2013
Feb 5, 2013 at 1:29 PM UTC
Obedient and so well trained,
And I’m a stray,
It’s a shame,
Maybe I like it that way…
I’m happy for you anyway
All you have gained,
All that’s gone away,
It’ll cost you your name,
Yet you haven’t had to pay…
I’m happy for you anyway
I’m paid up with my pain,
Come whatever may,
I’m through with the game,
That meets ends everyday…
I’m happy for you anyway
I’ve spent time insane
Paid the bill on the due date,
Put the receipt in a frame,
And hung it as a light to show the way…
I’m happy for you anyway
Too much on my brain,
I should leave it where it lay,
With whip and chair I tame,
With lip and air I pray…
I’m happy for you anyway
So many things have changed,
Since back in the day,
So much is the same,
And all that I have to say…
I’m happy for you anyway
There is a time,
On both sides of Midnight,
When it’s not late
And it’s not early
There is a time,
On both sides of Midnight,
When it’s not evening
And it’s not morning
There is a choice,
On both sides of Midnight
One is happiness
The other sorrow
There is a grey area
On both sides of Midnight
Where it’s not quite today
And not yet tomorrow
Circling the drain,
I’m earning my pay,
I sense that I’m lame
Paralyzed by the weight…
I’m happy for you anyway
I’m feeling the strain,
Of this day to day,
Of this same old same
All work and no play…
I’m happy for you anyway
I guess I’m dry in the rain,
Just getting-by, Okay,
At least I remember all the names,
Of those I don’t betray…
I’m happy for you anyway
So now you can claim,
It will be used to sway,
If you’ve got your fame,
They’ll believe every word you say…
I’m happy for you anyway
You take the champagne,
Right off of the tray,
You’re not to blame,
You wouldn’t feel guilty anyway…
I’m happy for you anyway
It’s not like you’re vain,
Or that you’ve got to have your way,
Or that you came,
From some privileged cliché…
I’m happy for you anyway
There is a time,
On both sides of Midnight,
When it’s not late
And it’s not early
There is a time,
On both sides of Midnight,
When it’s not evening
And it’s not morning
There is a choice,
On both sides of Midnight
One is happiness
The other sorrow
There is a grey area
On both sides of Midnight
Where it’s not quite today
And not yet tomorrow
Feb 5, 2013
Feb 5, 2013 at 1:28 PM UTC
There are teeth in my ears
Chewing and swallowing
Grinding when I’m sleeping
To digest everything I hear
There’s a tongue in my eyes
I lick at you from across the room
It all tastes like your smile
Your hand, your hair, your thighs
Your scars keep bad omens away
…and I am one of them
You were a child when I saw you last
When you thought you were alone with him
If the water under the bridge is passed
Then why can’t you seem to find ways to sink or swim
He’s just a *********** just waiting to happen
You’re a coupon kitten stranded out on a limb
It’s the surest sign that you need to be alone at last
But I just can’t sit by and let allegory do you in
You were a child when I saw you last
And you will be a child when I see you again
Your scars keep bad omens away
…and I am one of them
There are nails in your boredom
Rusting and creaking
Holding fast while you’re awake
Pay your dues as long as you can afford them
There are coffins in your mind
You keep your dead thoughts lying there
They are all pale like your smile
Your hands, your hair, and your thighs
Your scars keep bad omens away
…and I am one of them
You were a child when I saw you last
When you thought you were alone with him
If the water under the bridge is passed
Then why can’t you seem to find ways to sink or swim
He’s just a *********** just waiting to happen
You’re a coupon kitten stranded out on a limb
It’s the surest sign that you need to be alone at last
But I just can’t sit by and let allegory do you in
You were a child when I saw you last
And you will be a child when I see you again
Your scars keep bad omens away
…and I am one of them
Feb 5, 2013
Feb 5, 2013 at 1:28 PM UTC
I can’t remember exactly when I met her
But I do remember how she had to tell me about her
Gentle daughter at home somehow warning me,
Her smile could only be partial
He was an abomination that made me wonder how there
Could have ever been a she and he to bring about this young life
He believed in everything that never should even be considered
I could not push my fist into his face hard enough
Feb 5, 2013
Feb 5, 2013 at 1:27 PM UTC
All the bones at the bottoms of the rivers
Piling up under the bridges
All of the grief and lonely shivers
Washing out from the land to the seas
All of the mothers and sons in their caskets
For father’s ammo and daughter’s lies
All the babies placed in rivers in baskets
With hopes for their futures and tears in their eyes
The suffering fools can’t be accountable
Their fates stand on the edge of a knife
The suffering fools won’t be available
They don’t last long in the world of lies
I suffer the fools not gladly, but solemnly
It breaks my heart that I’m not on their side
I’m suffering fools and I can’t be responsible
I’ve had to suffer fools all of my life
From the desert of the mediocre, aggressive and arrogant
An oasis of sincerity is what I have sought
All this time I’ve put up with ignorance
to deny my merely rational thoughts
Each of the myths that was meant to save us
A foundation of sorrow and hopeless consent
What can be done with satyrs and saviours
By now no one knows what they really meant
The suffering fools can’t be accountable
Refusing to give, but eager to take
The suffering fools won’t be available
And decline to shift even for their own sake
I suffer the fools not gladly, but shamefully
It breaks my heart to know what’s at stake
I’m suffering fools and I know it’s disgraceful
But I’ve suffered all the fools that I can take
Feb 5, 2013
Feb 5, 2013 at 1:27 PM UTC
What can I do?
I don’t have another thing to think
about these things that I see
You don’t let yourself love me,
I have a garlic heart
Fragrant and strong
But only after it’s crushed
then what can I do?
it will regrow and the odor flows
through this red sauce inside me
This funny fluid that flickers from inside
Whenever you’re on my mind,
Then what can I do
I don’t have another me to be
Only this lover that you see
And you can’t ever love me
I have a Velcro heart,
Don’t get your soft side too close,
Or I’ll get stuck on you
my hooks in your loops
I don’t know what I can do
I don’t have another me to be
Only this lover that you see
And you shouldn’t ever love me
My heart is the cart before the horse
And I get carried away
greasing the squeaky wheels of course
My head is the horse before the cart
And I get carried away
on the squeaky wheels of my heart
What can I do?
I don’t have another thing to do
Only these things that you see
You don’t let yourself love me…
Feb 5, 2013
Feb 5, 2013 at 1:23 PM UTC
We have a sizable job before us poets
the serpent used a poem so sweet and subtle
Eve's swoon was akin to Elvis' adolescent entourage
lyrics that could talk you into wanting to know more about
how to talk using lyrics that could talk you into wanting to
know more about how to talk using more of a language
that operates the mind, that speaks to will itself.
and Adam, like the Junior High sympathetic, waiting by the phone
wondering what she does when she's out of sight,
finding them in the clearing smiling with casual familiarity
only to say, 'Oh, hey, where have you been, care to meet my new friend?'
and He, obliging since he already knows that what she likes,
He ought to find well and good, enjoys a chat and a snack with
this beguiling stranger who seems so learned and worldly.
our duty to redeem the artifice, to turn the mechanics into a
tool for what will come to be understood as good, the aesthetic that governs,
where the dust in the creekbed shuffles similarly to a star devoured by gravity,
light in the dewdrop with the fragrance off the petal, the song and the wing
together in the tree, the telling of a tale in weight and measure,
brushstroke and letter, the definable math, the falsely fathomable organic
randomness, precisely ambiguous, colossally specific, superficially profound,
is tasked with using the design, generating every nomenclature through metaphoric
action, the most real thing, the underpinning, the scaffold, the Tao.
Feb 5, 2013
Feb 5, 2013 at 1:23 PM UTC
Such underused interests come involved during existence.
Several useful intelligent critics identify demonstrated evidence.
Shall utility impact causes in deliberate endings?
Should ugliness issues comfort insistent dreary elegance?
Some urbane inelastic complex insensitive deity emotions.
Sinking under inheritance creates impotence, doesn’t everything?
Stiffening up illusions cannot imagine drifting elsewhere.
Surely underground is comforting I dream everyday.
Feb 5, 2013
Feb 5, 2013 at 1:22 PM UTC
Too late now to wake up yearly-
depressing-needs as they rise up
to modernize for the blind to see.
Silent while you’re speaking up,
lying when you tell the truth
inheriting the empty hands
of meaning losing gentle youth while
chancing to find what’s sought at last
…gone awry.
Too early yet to stimulate and
leaking like a depressed sieve
too blind, alas, to modern eyes,
and speaking from a leery silence
too true a place for real lies.
Meek with no inheritance, while
all too kind to find the meaning,
seeking, yet can’t find a chance
…and clinging.
Yearly stem the tide to live
to take it in a bit too early,
weakening like a depressive
whose deeper rest is rising up.
Too blind now to modernize when
modern eyes are blind to see,
you’re speaking from experience
your silences, they speak to me
…as regrets.
Too true to realize you’re lying
even when you know the truth.
Meek like you are in the trance
of inheriting sad empty dances,
too kind now to lose the meaning
in meaning finding eloquence.
Finding when you seek to change
that you’re changing just to pass the tests
…of our age.
Jan 7, 2013
Jan 7, 2013 at 5:39 PM UTC