What did I do?

Did I step on spilt milk,
then cry a big river
of shallow
words?,

or did I

Just ***** out another good thing,
end another good dream too early
before I could say I did anything
at all...

You've clothes that need to be hung out
And dried by the sun

The sun bakes away the rains
Regardless of the season

If it's cold, the cold winds that blow
Off of the seaside

May take them all away
And send them on high

Higher than the yard-lines
So high you'd think they'd fly away.

Oh, my.

Soon they'll come down
Like fashionable weather

Laid in disarray among
The lines to which they were tethered

You'd say you could've done something
To make things turn out better

But what else could you do, but
Put the two together?




Keep an eye on the weather
(Regardless of the season)
Invest in better pins
(Found by the seaside)
Plan ahead for the puddles to come
Made by the clothes to be hung

A word or two
For the sky so blue.

Just kidding, I lied,
That's four or five.

It must be true
About the lost and found
That get around,
Believin'

The green
Could be much greener;
The scenery
Just over there.

When hair
Begins to thin
And you can't start again,
Don't care.

The *****
Stuck to the thigh,
Hello, goodnight,
Sweet dreamin'.

When all that's left
Is the lost and found,
Wash it down
With the tears wept.

What can I dream, outside of a memory?
What can I be, without you?

All that has bitten has let blood
All that has struck gives in
All that has held lets go
All that has feared now loves
All that was lost now given
All that was stopped now flows

You are the center
Through the heart it will enter
Saturn's task to the sun

The spaces you carved out in me
left behind some figure
for the way I ought to be.

The traces of you, that fill me,
all I can remember,
leave me empty.

Despite the blood drawn,
In light of the stretching dawn
Souls are pulled under.

Under heaven, touch
the essence of who you are.
Under heaven, reach.

There is death for many in the past,

But not I;
I learned to turn upward the eye.


There is death for many in the grass,

But not I;
I climb the blade, and see far and wide.


There is death for many in the leaves,

But not I;
I breathe in their life to stay alive


There is death for many in the trees,

But not I;
I climb their length, and perceive from on high.


There is death for many in the water,

But not I;
I stay afloat and never capsize.


There is death for many where it's hotter,

But not I;
I bleed the waters from deep within my mind.


There is death for many in the teams,

But not I;
I grew silence, and I grew wise.


There is death for many in their dreams,

But not I;
My creations, all burn bright.


In the night,
In the dark wind,
Most send their intentions to the grave;
Slaves tied to the unspent sensations
Of being alive.

I stopped going with the waves.
I turned and let them crash against me.
I had my anchor, pulling up the ground.
You'd think it was an island in making.

We made this scenery.
The way you folded arms around me.
No contenders, by your spell I'm bound.
It was a dream we dreamed in waking.

I relive this forever.
A miserly toll.
To these waves, I would surrender
Everything I've known.

But there's a catch in me.
A ****** hook of reverence.
This isn't love, I know.

I can't help this reveling.
This decadence in limerence.
It pulls me down, fearful and spellbound.
If I'm ever found, will there be anything
Worth taking?

What I'd trade to
masquerade
this misery
as beauty.

It is all I have
as offering
to free me
back into the waves.

When my time

Blows out of my hands

Like the sands of some
Long-forgotten sea,

Scraping off ****** debris
Into dustdevils of misery

Poisoning my well-being,

I am afraid.




When my shine

Blots out my thinking

Like the hands of some
Long-forgotten deity,

Strangling my ill feelings,

I feel a little insane.

Deny it if you wish.
We all live for this.
It makes no difference;
Meaningful, meaningless.

To dissolve your walls,
To play with this trigger.
To let it go off,
Then return it to sender.

Call it a holy act.
Call it something sick.
It is still a fact:
You want it.

Steer clear from real fear, escape into the maw of your denial

You
Precious little thing,
You'll die, stuck here
In this honey.

Oh,
Poor little thing.
You won't even
See it coming.





In your abandoned colony,
Your echo will mark tracks
Of these empty promises
You can never take back.

I knew a girl with strawberry-colored hair.
I knew a girl who smelled like mustard.
I knew a girl with golden eyes.
I knew a girl who wanted to be a guy.
I knew a girl who invited me ovuh,
just to entice me by doing yoga.
I knew a girl who obviously had cats.
I knew a girl who thought lizards wanted her ***.
I knew a girl who let spiders crawl on her.
I knew a girl who is still a mystery.
I knew a girl who showed me great jazz,
but also showed me I'm terrible, generally.
...
I knew a girl with crooked teeth,
and a baby one, so little, so sweet.
I knew a girl with infinite kinds of laughs.
I knew a girl with a pinched ear.
I knew a girl who understood, and was, "art".
I knew a girl with long fingers.
I knew a girl who didn't give *****, ever.
I knew a girl who loved the beach,
and it seemed the sea salt dried up to meet her.
I knew a girl with poopshoots for eyes.
I knew a girl with all my inside jokes.
(oh garby, oh sorry, oh im not angry)
I knew a girl who was made for me.
I knew a girl who was made for me.

'Right' being the word for
those things I never do.

'Right' being the word for
those things I choose to
ignore.





Write me up a story,
telling me about the world.

Something soft and cozy,
with a tinge of scorn.








Blinded by morning glory,
saved by a girl.

'Right' being the word for
those things I choose to
ignore.

Something tells me you bought it

Something tells me you got it
with Money

Something tells me you Got it with
Something

Other than

your Mind

Something tells me you've bought it
And you're trying to buy mine.

There's this particular palette of feeling I lost, and now must be satisfied to watch dry.

Plants of life, shouting death





Illegible and clear

Silent prayer heard,
The cosmic wheel catches gear
And away we go.

Pull the foliage;
Let the inner nodes get light.
Watch the plant prosper.

Damage the main line.
Like a twisted deity
Inspire instinct.

Care. Do not smother.
Give time and space to expand
The seed you planted.

I can't skip rocks over lakes or rivers.
I can't go down without the surface
coming down with me.

I can't keep talking and thinking I'm sane.
I can't see how others make the ripples
and claim to see clearly.

Restrain me with these fleeting moments,
hold me down by way of laughter,
so I can resist this death sentence,
and stay below the here-after.

I steal.
I barter.
I trade.
I'm not martyr.
I gamble, and
With a sleight of hand,
I hope to win my promised land.

I'm seeing things, I'm going crazy, maybe.
Perhaps it's the grounds, breaking for daisies.
Flowers I sniff, for walking I'm too lazy.
Lounging around in a plot like a snake,

Serpentine the bush shake, laying low.
Nadir of suffering; dark night of the soul.
My will and my desire perpetually unfold.
Unwound so many ties, I'm getting the flow.

"You are gonna die,"
Creation signs in braille;
Sun for the blind eye.

The terror begins when each foot,
falling in front of the other,
echoes eternity lost in waters
as shallow as the words
that first breathed the waves to motion.

The terror begins when you realize
there's no need to run;
You're walking slowly
but surely
towards the finish line.

Neither one can be too loud, no they can't let eachother know they're functioning.
Outside, there forms a crowd. You can't let them know you've been eating.

They both sit in silence,

Waiting.

Waiting on the other

to go.

I never knew a girl named June,
Never knew a girl named May.
The fourth of July was my baby's favorite holiday.
When explosions rocked the sky
With colors and festive flare,
And the smell of burning paper
Filled the nighttime air;
For her, this was the happiest time of the year.

This will be my last report
I've done run the course
Got buyers remorse

Cold    startin this *******
Just ain't worth it no mo

I'll pull up on the Saturday night
Park n **** the lights
It'll be alright

Let it rust   n turn to dust
No need to fuss or fight

It's all waiting on the flippity
That I'll never see
Oh woe is me

What a waste, gone without a trace
What a dull ending

Nostalgia of the pain,
Honeysuckle of emptiness.

Laughter of ancient jokes,
Transcendent punchlines.

Retrospect obsession,
Jagged edge reflection,

Crystal clear in the hollow nights of hurt.

Lofty existence, spent weighed.
Pounds of electric weather, paid.
Surreal ambiguity, made.
Clarity fades.

A personal ocean deep,
Tears for every wave.

Gritty, draining as the soil most inert.

I poison myself to see what waits for me
In the darkness of my mind. My body
Holds these chemicals tentatively,
Like an atom exchanging electrons
To see what else they could be.
Destroying is only the gates swinging wide
For creation. Creation is the tide
Lapsing into destruction. Elation
Follows when you begin erasing
The sickly world for which you've acquired taste.
I poison myself and let fall from the bones
Rotting flesh, slopping off in full ideas
Of gluttonous consent. My peers
Before me do the same, and will after
I'm gone to the here after, after here.
This figment of a collective imagination,
These walls towering over our conscious spaces;
I set the fire on my side of the fence:
I want to see where the birds went.

I'm your fly
With all my eyes on your shadow
As you go about your business
Collecting me

Stuck mid-flight
You hold me in time and space
And this dusty corner
Becomes my world

And you hold me here
Hung from your remains
No one dare come save me
I am preserved

I threw my gun in your river.

The reason is rather moot.

I laid in bed, put it to my head,

Pulled the trigger; it didn't shoot.


I tried
drying it in the Sun and it withered.

Crumpled like sheets under an apathetic Sire.

I laid in bed, put it to my head.

Pulled-  the **** thing didn't fire.

Waiting for passion,
Mountains crumble, oceans wax
With or without you.

Cans standing tall in a crowd of
this n that;

Saucers of lost time and their

empty boxes,

amidst

general

disarray.

Fearsome monument.
Terrorism, you call out.
Yet, terror, you spread.

Dear God,
Flowers need spit to grow.

Dear God,
Flowers need spit to grow.

Silence is silver in winter,
Green is gold in snow.

Dear God,
Flowers need spit to grow

I've grown tired of the clear cut clarity
endowed to this lower being of which
I am witness.

Rather I should say,  I await the day
this lesser of three rises up to meet
the highest.

It really is a drag to pack bags so often,
hoping it will end a little differently
this time.

Rather I should say, hoping for beginnings
with rhymes of the reason, yea the reason
of rhyme.

I stand still, getting buried, under pressure, by the sands of time, I am covered, remembered, unseen.

You are up there, getting scattered, over mountains, by the hands of life, you are stripped, made bare, cleaned.

It is my remains you pump to the surface, it is my dead fire that gives yours light.

It is your straining to make villains out of victims, your commitment to love crimes that keeps me reaching through the night.

Bodies fold in this smoulder, emptying the air from out their heads, evacuating the lingering dread that inside they're already dead.
Souls writhe in this disorder, touching anything that they can, reverberating the color red as the blue fire slowly gets colder.
From where
Did this
Empti  
             ness
Find
A wish
That arms
Could bear?
Every atom clashes, and in this disarray, ecstasy establishes a Winter King's reign.
As these fingers touch this skin, reason goes insane. Following the heat, as aimless as the rain.
How
Does one
Conjoined
Within
Reach  
            out
To heal
To mend?

Whispering denials in the grips of evidence,
The body draws to pleasures in lieu of spiritual penance

I pull these flowers far too late and out of season.
My pockets fill with the premature and the dead.
I kick these rocks I used to never notice.
I put them in my pocket, in the back of my head.

Once

upon a time,
this friend
told me
if I  keep
d e g r a d i n g myself
I'll come to believe it
and I believed him
and I believed  it
already,   so
it wasn't
shocking
or anything
, but

I was already doubting a lot of other things
at the time,
so I
decided
one more
couldn't hurt.

All I have to do is as important as a cat's to-do list, very remiss with every scratching of a check.

Where are all my hands, for they are not all on deck?

All I ever breathe in this post-dream reality is as a wish upon a star, unbelievably close and undoubtedly far.

I mean this most sincerely when I say it all has meaning, as our world is run by the remains of dinosaurs who got stuck in tar.

Have you ever thought ' what is this I put in my car? '

I try to hold on to a figment of imagination, as it flakes away like paint on absorbent severed trees.

It brings me to my knees when I admit I haven't hit the bottom yet, for all I feel is the certainty of sinking.

Chasing a fading note, the volume swells and a bad grounding wire is evident as the buzzing grows until the next track hits and I'm left alone in this
mirage of some meaningful nonsense I let

sweep me far away. What a game to play, tip toeing in a giant's nest!

I forgot what I set out to say, forgot the melody, forgot the meaning and yet I still hear birds chirping.

Settling in the moment with a sigh
The times I'm never here,  I wonder why
What could escape this day,
And be seen fondly by tomorrow?

What could a beggar to royalty bring?
What treasures has the infinite never seen?
I'll give it my best guess.
I'll give it everything.

Let it go, now.
Let the ship go down.
You were never the captain,
Only along for the ride.

The waves roll out,
Touching the clouds.
And heavens never knew how to touch the ground.
Yet, they tried.

Whatever is left of me,
if you can remember anything
I've ever said,
down any path I've ever
led you, or
wherever you've led me,
if you can see me,
I'm free now,
for this world that is
always taking.

There's no need to lie to me,
there's no need to comfort this
dying fool who
wasted his time, pining in his
prime for a
chance
he knew
would never come.
After all, this
misery was by
design, to save the one
I love.
It's over now, I'm giving up.

I don't want your
sympathy, your
thoughts or your
prayers.
I wish I could illustrate
what I've won from this dare.
How do you
describe something
that isn't
there?
I lean on the hope that
what's left of me,
you'll share.

I took
so
much
effort
bleeding out this
place,
I've
emptied every coffer,
every altar
defaced.
I
scraped
away
the pretty paint
looking for the
matter,
and there it was,
this emptiness, getting fatter.

Now I sink in,
once again,
to this bog
I've been
stuck in,
struggled in,
woke up in,
fell asleep in,
dreamed in,
broke free in,
feared in,
**** and ****** in,
got cleaned in,
once again,
it takes me under.

Overheat in sun, I am in idle, unable to

Run away from fears, lies and denials,  they catch on

Everything I do, all tests and trials, and they drag me

Toward

The sun.


-
--
---
Nowhere to hide.
I greet the serpent, coiled inside.
Striking my mind.
And my heart faithfully carries the bite.
Time and time again,
I am freed through this affliction.

Wind and unwind.
A towering knot, deeply entwined.
Wrapping my mind.
Finally, my heart is now blind.
Time and time again,
It beats through this decision.
---
--
-


The fever of life, unbound and wild, telling me to

Copy the path, be a child, and in time these

Serpents that bled me, will feel the heat, and hungrily

Come to

Consume

This pain.

Did you get your cake today?
Did you get a little money?
Did your family call and say
"Happy birthday, honey"?

Did you get your wishes sent
To be granted on a breath?
Did somebody ******* so good
It made you think of death?

Did you get a new tattoo?
Did you smoke some ****?
Or maybe now you huff glue...
Idk, happy birthday baby.

Winter comes sloppy;
A-Quality money shot
On the world's face.

Welcome to the wave, the fourth to come through.
The horror and the beauty, equally true.
In its death throes, a self portrait painted.
Kaleidoscope of worn hearts jaded,
Beating anew.
You'll have to choose.
Will you say you're grown or will you say you grew?

Welcome to the days they sang to you.
Where the bars in the cage suddenly move.
The clouds in your head, all but faded.
The flowers in the garden, no longer waiting
To bloom.

Truth be told, don't know where it's headed.
Think we're going up. There I said it.
Follow the current, set by the moon.
Giant for all, from a little by you.