
Love is not a call and response song
the refrain is not memorable
Love is a burst of cacophonous notes
that when put together in the right manner
make a beautiful composition
No two pieces are the same,
melodies are unrecognizable
and the song will never stay
all efforts to write down every note
are made in vein,
for the beauty,
and power
is in the improvisation
in the existence of mistakes
The places to grow and be
as wild as the voice
and mind will allow
No composer can interpret the things
you've told them of this music
or comprehend the words
but having fleeting bursts of the tune
is enough ,
to keep the music alive
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 7:51 AM UTC
Two of us
going nowhere
in a box
on a wheel
crammed in
waiting to go
we chat
about nothing
I can remember
coming to the end
we realize our
mutual enjoyment
you give me your name
which
I slip it into my pocket
anxious to see you
though we have not parted
gone
from my pocket
from my memory
griffin?
taylor?
only me , ****
Jan 7, 2011
Jan 7, 2011 at 3:18 PM UTC
like black charcoal smudges that turn soft
the two of you blend together
he is the romantic
not attacking you with love
but knowing when you need it
his vintage porsche in the shop
but he'll go home on the train
to work the grave shift
again
just to be with you
to make cookies with you
to see "the family"
and you are the girl
every art school boy noticed
the magenta, blorange, and
jet black
who somehow calms in his presence
it amazes me but I welcome it
and he is welcome too
i approve
Dec 22, 2010
Dec 22, 2010 at 5:17 PM UTC
is drinking not one but three mugs of ghiradelli hot cocoa
is putting the heat on 73 degrees
is thinking on tuesday about friday
is hitting the snooze button yet again
is getting a full eight hours of sleep
is turning red while sledding
is staying up on hello poetry
is not thinking about the "should haves"
Dec 14, 2010
Dec 14, 2010 at 6:45 PM UTC
I saw you
in my dream last night
we were sitting one seat away
from the end of the row
I carefully sat next to you
nozy,
I looked at your book
I complimented you ,
the book was in german
you smiled at me
perfectly
your short black hair
and bits of stubble around your jawline
that was all
but I loved it
and I want you back
Dec 9, 2010
Dec 9, 2010 at 12:20 PM UTC
If you don’t stop running with that gang
The gallows is at the end of the road for you
Traveling boy
Fear
His courage to live depended on how successful
It was hidden from his consciousness
They had never held up a white man before
He
Hated
His family
He knew they were suffering
It maddened him
He did not have a wider choice of action
Alien white world
They get a chance to do everything
They don’t let us do nothing
White folks
Nothing ever happens
Quit thinking about it
Every time I think of em’ I feel em’
It was a game and all white people knew how to play it
Eyes
Pensive, brooding, amusement
Rhythms
Of life
Indifference
Violence
Intense desire
Moment s of anger
Of
I don’t give a ****
His interest was caught
He leaned forward
A sense of excitement about his new job
His body hungered for keen sensation
Just keep laughing
Just keep laughing
Trying to defeat or gratify powerful impulses
In a world he feared
Why did he come to take this ******* job?
confused emotions.
Dec 7, 2010
Dec 7, 2010 at 2:39 PM UTC
you've always been
quick
to make friends
a social butterfly
but about you latest one,
I must question you , Why?
the more time you spend together
the more it ***** you in
you don't give a ****
that you've confessed
but I still have an shred of hope
that you'll give up that b.s.
I won't rat you out
make the decision on your own
yet so far deep affection is all you've shown
put down the malboro
that dreaded cigarette
i know you love attention
but its the cause of this dissention
please stop this terrible affection
Dec 5, 2010
Dec 5, 2010 at 3:05 PM UTC
too much thinking
work
no time for onself
fun? what does that mean
depression
you should see a counselor
too long
waste of time
expensive
shut up
and get it
done
emotions
too many
shut them
out
do what you are
told
no
questioning
anything
look where that
got us
don't dwell on the
past
or the
present
May 18, 2010
May 18, 2010 at 4:41 PM UTC