It beats, and rumbles, and breathes;
like the roar of an irrepressible beast
our lust and desires shake the earth below,
fracturing the dusted dirt of our hearts.
Cherished hopes become slow dancing trees
we burn to feel warmth
as we chase after an unsustainable beauty.
Then with an abrupt ebb,
our intrepid recklessness sobers,
So we turn to jesters and alleyway fools
to learn how to quit.
Jun 15, 2013
Jun 15, 2013 at 12:50 PM UTC
I've heard that on chilled August nights,
If you roll down your window,
Put away your sorrows,
Put on your best Neil Young,
And allow your lungs to take in the late summer air,
Your truck meets heaven,
Somewhere along Highway 101.
Mar 8, 2013
Mar 8, 2013 at 11:43 AM UTC
With the sweet melancholy of time
comes the beautiful notion of nostalgia.
We grasp moments of shared joy and freedom-
beacons of hope that forever altered our souls.
And with such recollection
we finally fathom the value of those around us.
And we realize
it is our souls who must surrender
when our bodies are broken and worn.
Dec 29, 2012
Dec 29, 2012 at 8:03 PM UTC
There are people in the world,
Who will test your most confident convictions,
And your deepest faith.
Their words and stories spark embers within you,
That illuminate the tangible darkness,
Of your close minded thoughts.
There are people in the world,
Who will shake your being,
People whose own love and hopes,
Cause you to question yours.
You will find that these people,
Are the most wonderful to know.
And maybe,
If we look close enough,
We can find a glimpse of them,
In a little of you
And a little of me.
Dec 9, 2012
Dec 9, 2012 at 12:24 AM UTC
Their breath clouds the air,
Like the smoke from a cigarette,
And so that is what they pretend to do.
They laugh at themselves lightly,
Both thinking that this youthful innocence,
Will always be apart of them.
They are naive and in that,
Beautiful.
They have few worries or cares,
Just worn shoes,
And an itch to continue walking through the silent streets.
One of them suggests
They should lie in the road,
And search above for constellations.
The other agrees with excitement,
And finds comfort on the pavement.
But as they look up,
They can not help but realize,
The city lights dust the evening sky,
Masking all of the speckled stars.
So heartbroken they rise,
And continue on forward.
Never bothering to look for silly things,
Like constellations,
Again.
Dec 1, 2012
Dec 1, 2012 at 11:14 PM UTC
These ideas of Limits and Ties,
Infect the brain.
Their murky ink spreads and soils the neurons,
all while polluting the soul.
We imagine such boundaries will fade,
And say words like,
"When I'm older, wiser."
"When I'm more educated, cultured."
"When I'm free to do as I please."
That is when,
These ideas of Limits and Ties,
Have finally swallowed you whole.
Dec 1, 2012
Dec 1, 2012 at 5:11 PM UTC