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Blaine Genson Mar 2014
fails to grab me
and keep hold of me
the way he does
Blaine Genson Oct 2013
I will ask, but I dare not speak;
for to hear my own words would break me.
Where I cannot go I send my heart;
and in those places he finds not
what the soul seeks.
As the lofty dreamer leaps out into the grey hazed dusk
I call after him; to cry out for his safe return.

Treading the black waters of the devil's sea
called resentment, he spites me as the tow drags him down.
If ever he should return, another request
like this I will not make.
Treasure unfound is not worth
the loss of the heart.

I must ask, and be shattered
by my plea.
Blaine Genson Jun 2013
both heaven and hell surround me
coexisting in my kingdom
the throne sits full
of false idols and imagined gods
the true king bows down
or runs from his own authority
i blindly pray to him
and make offering
he is indecisive
and insincere
unknowing and powerless
for all his shortcomings
there still is not one more fit to lead
Blaine Genson Mar 2013
in the end
it comes down
to wasted time
long nights
sweet whispers
soft lips

it all comes down

stop throwing logs in
and the fire might go out
Blaine Genson Mar 2013
he is many things
a musical
on a
self loathing
train to nowhere
and though it may have crossed his mind
he did not wish to die
but rather
he wished to live forever
and his greatest fault
was that he thought he could
and among the space
between sleep and wakefulness
he envisioned a happy day
he knew would come
and even if it did not
he would still rise the next morning
to meet the day with enthusiasm

some days it is all he has though
to write it down
Blaine Genson Mar 2013
even a dull razor cuts
but a wet match won't light
the birds will return in the spring
and be gone by october
the point is
we all want to be understood
but poets muddy the water
with beautiful
but needless metaphors
maybe it is difficult
to see what i mean
maybe i like it that way

never heard
are the loudest screams
Blaine Genson Mar 2013
too eager you say
i feel something
not knowing
what your lines might read
i've made my exit
but the rest is unwritten
so they tell me
if i have another cue
i don't know about it
and the critics can't understand
that i write not for them

as the walls close in
and time slows down
i miss your frame
hovering elegantly
over mine
perhaps you're my greatest critic
and so these words are not for you

infected though my mind is
the sisters have no pity
reality will not bend for me
so i run from her
as i run from him
without the eagerness i need

we cant all win the race
and i never was very fast
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