Solemn hour
Yonder year,
Take the latter second,
A car in the distance of the road,
Fertilized with the scent of life
A light reflecting him, and a crow
Perched atop his shoulder.
He ventured toward the chateau,
Cars passing him blanked by countless efforts
Tripped inside, a maid approaches the door
She appears to be one-hundred,
The crow fell off the shoulder and dust remained
Where the maid cleaned up and left.
May 8, 2011
May 8, 2011 at 3:52 PM UTC
I sit inside a poets mind,
And mess with the machine,
Their stories pour and print on paper,
And it's not always clean.
A gear there and engine here,
Their clicking engines work.
The pen falls and fills the bottle
Of ink while it spills.
The story is done,
His work is gone,
But never is forgotten.
He resets the typewriter
And starts to write again.
Apr 23, 2011
Apr 23, 2011 at 7:53 PM UTC
As the windows roll down,
The wind blows in,
The cold crawls up my arm,
And spreads like butter,
Engulfing the surface of my being.
The wind blows in and freezes the car,
The time stops and the moment stands still,
The night is young, but eager
The moon and stars frown
As I tuck myself to bed at night,
It’s still young, and hungry for life.
Apr 14, 2011
Apr 14, 2011 at 7:26 PM UTC
It’s like standing on the edge of a cliff -
and looking down
a downward spiral into a whirlpool,
that drains your dreams delicately
into a sealed bowl.
it’s like staring into the sky, and falling
that feeling you get when you know what’s coming
a nauseous feeling in your stomach,
the tingling of your feet and the absence of feeling in your arm
it’s like a clock going backwards
as everything moves forwards
like a gesture made often but
frequently forgotten
it’s like sitting on the train tracks
waiting for it to come
to wake up and ride away
to steal pain and numb the sadness
it’s like waking up from a bad dream
into a nightmare - that sudden feeling of worry
that washes over and drowns
it’s like falling off the cliff
watching that whirlpool wait to consume
knowing what awaits and accepting.
Mar 26, 2011
Mar 26, 2011 at 6:19 AM UTC
I walk around with my label-gun
and stab you with your permanent mark.
You belong here, with them.
Sulking and alone.
Or you belong with them,
Rich and stuck up.
Or with them, synthetic beings
with synthetic organs.
Or with yourself, secluded and different.
Maybe you need no label,
Maybe just an escape
Mar 22, 2011
Mar 22, 2011 at 1:15 PM UTC
It’s funny, how we laugh.
A crippled man with a cane,
We laugh.
As he struggles, we laugh.
We laugh in the face of his trouble,
His struggle to survive,
and we laugh.
We chuckle at the mis-matched student.
Camouflage pants and corduroy jacket,
An orange hunting hat and tan shirt.
We chuckle at him, in his highest fashion.
As he walks proud at his creation.
We boo the gay couple, and shun them away.
We laugh and call them names.
They search for oasis and fall short often,
Their acceptance here will never be forgotten.
We laugh at the difference,
The ones on their own,
We do not like the change,
From our norm society.
We laugh in their face, in their struggle their grace,
Instead of giving them the hand they deserve.
We walk away and laugh with friends,
As they struggle with their crippled acceptance.
Mar 20, 2011
Mar 20, 2011 at 7:09 PM UTC
Here I am, I stand
for one thing
I stand tall and proud
and shrink -
It's like a magnifying class
being pulled away from an ant
as it grasps for its life
Here I am, falling
A simple hole in the ground
where I stomped angrily
the world spins with me,
the colors bedazzle and amaze
everything seems slow,
why is the clock broke?
Here I am, on the ground
now grasping for my life
here I am, an ant under a magnifying class
gasping for air
begging for life
the world spun with me
like a top that wont stop
and now it's fallen, and I am lifeless
Mar 19, 2011
Mar 19, 2011 at 8:08 AM UTC
In dreams, I create infinity.
I walk down Escher’s infinite stairs
and trip – as a board breaks.
In dreams, I fall.
I fall and land in the sand.
In dreams, I build buildings
Eight miles high.
Each floor a mirror of different sights.
In dreams, I create life.
I satisfy that which is not satisfied.
They breathe, they live and die.
In dreams, I cancel reality,
I find my escape, and break the ladder down.
In dreams, I create infinity.
I manipulate time.
In dreams, I live forever.
Mar 8, 2011
Mar 8, 2011 at 3:51 PM UTC
A mark of mastery, a degree of high status,
Atop a tall throne, spectre in hand.
Waving and yelling like the fools in grey.
This ink, which poisons his blood,
Paints profound pictures posing
A small threat to mind.
Feb 23, 2011
Feb 23, 2011 at 12:31 PM UTC
I stood there with open words,
A blank mind and colorful slate.
Free of prejudice, the glass seems clear.
A cheer here and there, a successful move forward,
A journey almost satisfied,
A night out alone ol' Luna in the sky,
A trip into roses, of all different kinds.
Recovery and some blood, the journey has just begun.
With birds on heavy watch, guarding their sacred forest.
Closed words and filled mind,
A grayscale slate was left.
Feb 23, 2011
Feb 23, 2011 at 12:20 PM UTC