Push is counter balancing pull
tearing down the strings
leaving the walls bare
bare and stripped
she lays by my side
eyes wide like the sun
on some summertime day
the wind blows sweet
the heat radiates from the street
my fingertips brush skin
the oil leaves a film
yes, there it is
in a note that is the rhythm of breathing
soft slow standing alone
like that sweet wind
or that hot street
bright sun
just give
Jun 28, 2013
Jun 28, 2013 at 2:07 PM UTC
I thought I was falling
turns out I was just running
I could not feel my legs
nor my feet
carrying me to a place
beyond the road
into the abyss
where I found solitude
where I found myself
in the mirror of a watery reflection
and there were no more questions
only facts
and as they bore holes in my face
ripped open my skin
allowed me to view my bones
i saw for the first time
something in myself that i understood
and from there
at the bottom
off the road
in a ditch
i rebuilt myself
out of the bones unburdened by skin
climbing out on the ladder made of femur and ribs
i let the sun bleach my skeleton
and the moon gave me new skin
Jun 8, 2013
Jun 8, 2013 at 11:32 AM UTC
allocation of supreme alliteration illustrates perpetual contemplation and concentration that dictates a maligned mastication of federal incarceration of elongated complementary probation leaving you cuffed and based on baseless accusations conducted in aboriginal abbreviations masked task force concluding a course of brevity conducted in coordination then coordinating and copulating condemnation for a homeostasis of thought bought scolded eroded and shot inefficacy perpetrating cultural holocaust irrelevance somersaults galactic static of mathematical bombastic smack addict glued shut in a craft attic floral resurrection gartered section of ****** selection she moves fluid through unaltered perfection of cosmic bypass past the point of extemporaneous infinitude reciprocating fortitude of sinews congregating fabricating visuals of vitality soldering axonal membranes on the cerebellum and cortex simulation of sensual vortex demented fusion more blessed I am that which stands to understand the incomprehensible unconsidered options of racial conflicts the screaming round of unaltered copper fiber severing life from the living only now can we debunk the years
Apr 17, 2013
Apr 17, 2013 at 9:01 AM UTC
There are two meanings of ****
one is to **** as a verb
the act of *******
the art of *******
a snapshot from our days as animals
bent over in a cave
covered in blood and excrement
*******
the other meaning **** is more ambiguous
**** this
**** that
this has nothing to do with fornication
but adds the emphasis desired
in order to prove a point
a provincial exclamation
a desecration of progress
of morality
of society
**** that
Apr 17, 2013
Apr 17, 2013 at 8:38 AM UTC
It is strange to see her heart break
knowing that I am the cause
knowing that is not the first time
but it will be the last time
and feeling almost nothing
do I have a soul
or has it been trampled and transformed
into something indistinguishable
her blue green eyes well
her face crinkles into that form
trying to hold back the tears
that cannot be stopped
it is strange to be this man again
this one I have not know for some time
bordering on freedom and feeling pain
but not for her, and that is the worst of it
for myself, from fear and anxiety
do I remember how to be that man
will I be better than before
or just as bad as I was
I know I will never be lonely
I hope that she will not be lonely long
It is strange to hope for her happiness
even thought I am now the source
of all of her pain
we are broken
and cannot
be fixed
Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 4:57 PM UTC
Today comes
with the sun
pulling over the darkness
of a midnight sky
I know in that moment
that we will be
no more
and
never again
because even though
there is love
that is not enough
and there is trust
that is not enough
because there needs to be
that extra spark
that thing
that brings
life
Mar 13, 2013
Mar 13, 2013 at 10:32 AM UTC
Outside my window
the world is wet.
this reminds me of something.
what it is?
I do not know.
It is something that has taste
and color
and shape
but no name.
such is life.
falling from heaven to earth.
the sound is like life
a tiny parade
the smell is like life
damp and sordid
the shape is like life
falling fast
to fast perhaps
falling in love
or falling into the bottle
watching the minutes
fall away from the clock
gathering after falling
finding a new home
not being alone
then drying up again
what does that mean?
what does that mean?
Feb 23, 2013
Feb 23, 2013 at 11:03 AM UTC
I can do this for hours
just let words pour out of me
good ones
bad ones
indifferent ones
I am like god
creating without any care
just for the sake of pictures
on this blank page
like how the sun rose this morning
filling the canvas with hope
the sun will fall
and **** all the color out
and all the while
through days and nights
I will just keep pouring
the words
and the whiskey
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 11:37 AM UTC
Crowds are made of people
willing to be in the crowd
willing to fly with the flock
I have never been willing
never been able
and I am happy about that
because when I look outside
and see the crowd
they seem like empty reflections
of what every one else is
or wants
the girls with their fake smiles
the guys with their fake confidence
i know you
you are still human beings
and when your fake fades
maybe years from now
you will read something like this
and wonder
who the ****
does that guy
think he is
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 11:35 AM UTC
I met a man once, drunk in bar, missing some of his teeth and stinking of death
he was a Vietnam vet, he talked a crazy kind of talk that made you realize why he was alone
his hands were hard as rocks when he shook mine, his eyes looked like burned out light bulbs
what he said to me, I cannot remember, but I remember what I learned from him
what is in your soul, manifest itself, unto your body
even though you may think it is hidden
it is there plain as day
in your burnt out light bulb eye
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 10:43 AM UTC