there's the freedom
and then there's the silence
i could probably reach out
and break the silence
but it's taboo to tell the truth
except when it came to you

if i tell her i'm on drugs
it'll be oh poor child
announcing it on every tv station
every corner of the world will know
her daughter is better than me
(even though she sleeps with a different
woman every night)
but i'm the one on drugs

and then you tell
your friend and she listens
and she listens
and she listens
until the words float around her head
and stop meaning
and she goes numb
hasn't slept in days
and the words have
lost their meaning
you've repeated the same story
so many times
she'll hear it again
but you lost the impact
and
she won't say
you poor child
it's not what you want to hear
it's what you need to hear
maybe not

the rest of them
the rest of them are gone
and there's that one in the red shirt
but she's talking about knees and bees
and i don't think she wants to talk about me
but i want to talk about me
i want to tell someone how i feel
how the freedom lasted a week
then the silence
then the silence

now the silence

and you used to listen
to my stories of blood and roses
and somewhere in between
the lick of insanity which took away
your pain
and the lick of insanity
that brought it back
you found me
a mouthful of insanity
in a world of the sane
and i took away your pain
to give it back
harder
faster
you made me scream
harder
faster
you made me scream
it hurt
you hurt
you really hurt
but you were the pain
that reminded me
why i lived because
the freedom
then the silence
the silence doesn't feel
it doesn't hurt
i haven't cried in a week
you know?
i haven't cried in a week
and it's probably the drugs
but i haven't cried in a week

oh wait
no, i did cry
they were doing this workshop
and they talked about being forced into giving head
and i cried
i cried
infront of the crowd i cried because
i remembered
and i remember
and it wasn't all bad
it was kinda fun
but you know
the greatest things hurt the most
and i didn't like it very much

maybe it's the drugs.

Playing with words
Flirting with thoughts
Hiding behind metaphors
Seeking an expression
Prancing in the past
Down memory lanes
Reliving the joys
Relieving the pains
Painting a future
Winking at the possible
Gazing at the probable
Sighing at the impossible
Poet is at work
Creating a uni-verse.

the sky is pink in its glory
the foam is deep-blue in the sea
it depends on what you're riding
insane with an addict high
or a dream in your motorbike
take a risk
will it be the sunrise or the sunset
anyway, they're all fall-fall and falling
like the bricks blocks in tetris
where victories line up to disappear
and failures just keep on piling

do not let those thoughts escape
because one day
someday
you'll be riding those
above the clouds and
under the waves
over unconceivable hurdles
on the skyline that is purple

When I was eight
At the park

Playing football
Getting dark

Older kids
Stole our ball

I can't stand bullies
Not at all

Then out of the blue
Three more kids appear

Did I mention they're black
So now I felt fear

But to my surprise, they said
Give the ball back!

What's going on?
I thought they were black

This confused my young mind
From all I was told

Stay away from the blacks
Or you'll never grow old

That one little act
Fifty years ago now

Changed the way I see color
Changed my vision and how

Today I was out
With my eight year old son

God, how I love him
We're having such fun

Then I see someone starring
No, it's more like a glare

I can't be that ugly
It must be my hair

Then an old thought creeps in
From way, way, way, back

She's glaring at us cause
I'm white, and he's black

So my prayer for this world
And I hope you don't mind

Is the day we can say
We're all color blind!

Amen

For just a moment
Would you slip away with me
Into dark corners of anonymity 
Could we lose the fear.
The consequence.
Can you loop your fingers in mine with the simplicity of a lover 
And push aside the flush of watching eyes.
Be the steady tide in my ocean of melancholy 
And wash away these familiar faces 
With their poison darted tongues
Glass hearts overflowing 
With the bitterness of realism and lost ideals 

Can we lose our pretences
Our falsities and masks
And let our minds meet in serenity 
Sheltered from a world of turmoil 
From wars and tears
Outward pressures and inner conflicts.
Lets live instead within honesty and earnest hearts 
In hidden tracks and secret words 
Where we can speak our own truths in roaring solitude 
In silent riots that enflame my heart and remind my soul to sing

In this moment 
Can I be nameless
Faceless 
Can I disappear into the love behind your eyes 
And be remade inside the warmth of your opened arms 
Can I vanish from the humdrum 
From the familiarity of the accepted
And walk with you down foreign streets of passion and vitality 
Hand in hand 
Two beacons alight with fire 
Standing tall against an encroaching dusk of normality and routine 

Just for now
Can we be anonymous
Can we be unknown 
Maybe then we can learn to know ourselves

i could write about
a lot of things
like my day
or how the pavement
looks when it
rains slightly.

or how the parking lot
feels when it's full
of cars and void of people
or how i feel when i'm
surrounded and
afraid.

how i'm angry and
insecure and
i don't owe anyone
anything
not my friends
not enemies
or elders
not an apology
or a single
**** explanation.

but i think i'll just
forget about the
whole thing and
write about death
or something
nice like that
after all it would
weight less on me
then the words
on my fingertips.

i had assumed
that i was done
struggling with
all that identity crap
but now i've concluded
that everything we ever
fight is a battle for
our own lives.

and it's odd
to think that i can
have such a strong
sense of myself and yet
my personality can
be so unlike that self.

there are more layers
to a parking lot than
what you might
first expect.

i suppose at one point
there were grass
and trees and pure
unadulterated dirt
and then somebody
leveled it
maybe added a coating
of gravel and
paved over it and
put some vehicles on top.

but that doesn't mean the
layers aren't still there
under the asphalt
i mean.

and that's what i'm saying
is that i've got something
under the pavement
i just can't get the cars
to move out for long enough
to tear up the layers.

i feel other people's wheel marks
burned into my skin
and the signs and lines
that proclaim no parking
have been vandalized and
ignored for too long.

how do you tell a parking lot to stop
without looking crazy?

and there lies the
exact problem
i care
too much
what people think
i look like
and i don't mind if they
think i'm insane
but i mind if they don't
like me
there's a big
difference you know.

and there goes
another piece
falling into place
and the
puzzle not
yet completed.

.....Let your soul shed it's poetry.

if you say, "i'm right here."
when i tell you i miss you
one more time
i'm going to place my hand on your chest
just to see if your heart is still beating.

i bet twenty dollars that it's not.
i bet thirty that it is, just not for me.

if you say, "i know."
when i tell you i love you
one more time
i'm going to dust your heart for finger prints
to see if it's still mine.

i'll get a CAT-scan of your mind...
just to see if i'm still on it.

i'm tired of playing "go fish"
so i can guess what you're feeling
"got any love?"
because lately you won't show me your cards
but i'm pretty sure you still have my heart.

i look at your internet search history...
just to see if you're still looking for ways to make me smile.

there used to be something here,
alive and blooming and present;
it was beautiful.
the same way my mother's favorite vase was,
until it fell off the shelf and broke.

i check your mail box,
just to see if there are any love letters that you forgot to send.

there never are.