The way it walls in thunder across the sky
Strikes in lightning crashing by
Cries in drops fall tward the ground
Just a sound
not a sound
Sep 17, 2013
Sep 17, 2013 at 9:57 AM UTC
Gasp for this thing you've never seen
scream for that life you never knew
cry for this hate you dont understand
pray for your life to be something
sing for everything else
sing me a picture ill paint you a song?
Do We Have A Deal?
yes yes mr. whatever you say, just please let me go...
sometimes life throws you a curve ball
sometimes life wont play catch
Judge me please
its what i begging
its what im calling for when i challenge life to entertain me
look at me, look through me, look to me, look past me and
scream
scream everything you cant see
scream everything you cant sing
cry the rest out for the world to see
and build you a bridge for
so why do you get a bridge
what makes you so ******* special?
your tears, the pain you've never felt
its stolen, all of it
cant you just ******* wait for it to come to you
you know it'll get there on its own
then who will you lament for
then who will cry and scream
who will sing a lulaby
too sweet to sleep to...
Sep 17, 2013
Sep 17, 2013 at 9:46 AM UTC
sanity is relative
it's a hidden amenity
some convenience of clarity
like the kleenex in hotel bathrooms.
you'll be fine without it
better even maybe
depending on how big a mess you like to make..
because toilet paper works just the same
only maybe not as nice
same principal really-
most people cant even tell.
or maybe they're too busy
trying to tell themselves
the scotty they're holding
isnt 2 ply.
Sep 17, 2013
Sep 17, 2013 at 9:42 AM UTC
Mapping the veins on eyelids
A subtle lattice work of blue life
softly breathing, indifferently beating
a gentle pulse lifting skin
a rare moment of honesty, deliverance
found only in the frame of a dream
An exchange of minds would leave us breathless
Speechless, for here words have no bounds
no meaning, other than that which we bestow
delicatelydownward
a path is traced
Along the creeping blue
past through the notches of your spine
a path well known
never to be lost upon
My child. My life
Deep in a wish of denial
what i wouldnt give
to trade with you
A gift i tried to give
.but i was never good at sizes
my darling.mydear
If only i could
exchange once more
i promise i would get it right.
Instead, they tell me
its time to let go
to you my child-
the first ill never know
and so she slept
in sweet fragility
almost breathing
and so i wept
with subtle bravery
almost living.
Sep 17, 2013
Sep 17, 2013 at 9:41 AM UTC
Another night
filled with men
Wearing those eyes
that look,
the predatory one.
Staring-
gorging
on imaginary flesh;
but hey
that's why they pay me
And that's how
in a few more years
I won't be here.
Replaced-
with a younger model
Maybe even,
that I've trained
in my likeness
Sep 17, 2013
Sep 17, 2013 at 9:26 AM UTC
Finding his ***** hair In my clothing
What is seven years but one of your lifetimes
Even the cats have nine
Faces that can't choose
between a smile or a frown
I can assure you
my heart is breaking
Fortunately
the lattice work of scar tissue
cradles the pieces together.
Eventually
they'll knit back,
still beating all the while
The beautiful things
or body does
Sep 17, 2013
Sep 17, 2013 at 9:18 AM UTC
Do not mistake guilt for affection
Its a worse way of getting your heart broken
Than confusing *** with love
Sep 17, 2013
Sep 17, 2013 at 9:11 AM UTC
Where the off keys are the subtleties
Missing symmetries linking beats
Rhythms rhyming daytime stories
With nighttime attitudes
Dudes and ladies
Going crazy in lime light
More impressed by concept than conception
Misguided perhaps
maybe blinded
Influenced so greatly
By something stirred gently
On the off chance
What they need to say
Matches what was heard
Wheezed into a microphone
30 feet away
Elevated, but not above
Their ability for connection
And desire for attention
Packed rooms full of people
Wanting a label
To cling to or sing to
Making it easier to declare with conviction
Instead of trying to stick out by fitting in
(Afruitless effort, except by the trend setters)
Mar 14, 2012
Mar 14, 2012 at 7:48 PM UTC
Nauseous again
Looking
Somewhere
Someone
Something
Situations
Horizons
Standing
Still here
Staring
Over there
Not mine
Its not mine
My place
My life
My friends
None of it
Is mine
Fakes
And liars
Lazy slight of hand
Kids
With big voices
Always drunk
Always drinking
Drink up drink up
who's in the cup
Who's turn
Who ****** up
Chewed
Not swallowed
Drank
And spat out
By kids
With big voices
This is not
My place.
Mar 14, 2012
Mar 14, 2012 at 7:44 PM UTC
poetry is meaningless
words are just the same
untouchable
by our own experiences
ungraced by that of others
there is an
infinite beauty
in the endless possibilities
but its nothing real
instead their own world
revolving
evolving
dissolving
into new connotations
to impact someone else
never less applicable
never more knowing
"tragically" unfeeling
words
they say anything you want
and tell them-
the audience,
what they need.
its not desire
for self exploration
they're looking for
Then they would write
instead,
they depend on you
the "poet"
to describe them
to tell them who they are
and how they feel
since beyond you-
it's a mystery
their mirrors are broken
covered in hairspray and cheap perfume
with all those moments of regret
clinging to the glass in faded memories
frosting it just enough
that nothing is clear
so its safe
and then
when you tell them
when you use these illusive words
to bring enlightenment
into everything they are
and ever will be
with a general abstract
they can relate to
they get the option
of becoming a connoisseur.
of speaking as though they know
because somehow its so familiar.
(Like the days at their granparents house
back when they were a child)
but because they know
even vaguely,
you've given them the right to rejection
to denial
and self righteousness
to civilized critiquing
when really
they're just missing the point
and honestly
im not angry enough to care
maybe later
but right now-
i just want the words
to speak
so that i
dont have
to say anything
Feb 16, 2011
Feb 16, 2011 at 9:41 PM UTC