We are the fine cut...line cut..
..potatoe face on Irish lace.
We are the here..we are the place.
And just in case
You fail to understand.
We have become the wall art..the new start..
..the baby grand has grown.
We are the music you've never known but you know it now.
The anyway we can be anyhow.
This is the step that walks out on the street
Get out and meet it...it's something you cannot ignore
Not something you buy in a la de da store
But the free in your ears and the world in your eyes.

Prise yourself away from the dusty thoughts of yesterday and look
This is today and a new kind of book has evolved.
That talks as it turns and revolves as it burns and the ash of the script..
..strips layers off your skin..and should you want to dive in..
..Go ahead.
The start of a thread of whatever you've ever read disappears
And the years drip away.
This here is the place and today it's your face on the pack
Get up on the stage and attack..
Lay them flat on their back with a salvo of sound
Bring it down to the ground.

A penny buys a pound..we'll be outlawed
They'll call us flawed characters..
..embarrassing chapters.

But let's capture that thought..write stuff and not like you've been taught..
..but be brazen and ***** to the 'Man' who tells you.."OH NO"
He just ain't got the rollocks to be in the show.
Let it go and you're lost
You'll be reading shinola that you bought at cost from the stall in the mall.

Be a pal..break the mould..don't do as you're told but do as you do
Look inside of the you..and bang it out..put it down on a sheet
Spill out your words to those people you meet..you've got one chance..
..which is no chance if you don't take it.
Get out there and
Make it
Happen.

i'm the cinnamon star-struck lotus-eating speck  
on your windshield... driving out the demon
in your blind-spot
guess you can see me too... but you'd rather not yet
that'd be too real... diving like walking
is what  'other people'  do
but we're not... anything less
at all the
parties

kiss me and i'll be fine.
but if i
know you -
and i think
i do
then this
don't mean i love you
( Love You )
it only means
i could

Eternal...like fruitcake and the sky

please
  scream compliments that feel like daisies tickling my
cheeks
please
  feel my inhibitions dissipate you rogue aristocratic
tease

I saw you at the club tonight,
Dancing with girls that everyone knows well,
You seemed to be enjoying yourself,
Drinks in your hands,
Turning them back like no tomorrow,
Stumbling into guys twice your size,
Hitting on girls who look just like me,
You kept yelling out my name over the music,
Everybody just ignored you like they always do,
For a moment you stopped,
The crowd just danced around you,
You fell to the ground,
Nobody stopped to see if you were okay,
Or even noticed you at all,
If it would of been a few months back I would of been at your side,
Helping your drunk *** to the truck,
However you picked the drinks over me,
But they aren't helping you get home.

treat this as a warning label
stop, warning, harmful, toxic substance
this won't be a fruitful endeavor
turn around, and don't look back
running from a pillar of salt

It would be foolish to think
that i'm not selfish
people just don't understand
the difference between
nice and selfless
But I would swallow you whole
most comfortable when we
are not comfortable
when the ceiling is crumbling
I'm at my best

I will take you
and claim your humanity
for my own
using it greedily
turning it into words
packaging it
and shipping it off
to millions of fast thought
word joints

warning, explicit content
harmful if swallowed
too far regressed
a stubborn child
in need of saving
too proud to be saved
the Surgeon General recommends
not even taking the time
Just turn around
truly not worth it

It's not too cold of a night for a walk
Even if this one was not by choice
I'm not sorry for being so drunk
I only ever wanted to hear your sweet voice

Even if the only words it told me were,
"*******!"
Sometimes it's the little things that mean so much

Your spirits weren't as bright as I remember
I suppose my own had something to do with that
I'm not sorry for losing your number
Just kind of sorry that you won't give it back

But I'm never sorry for the things that I do
I just wanted to see how things were working out
Sometimes I really do worry about you
You said that I'm the one I should be worried about

Your hair color has changed
Your pajamas said "Somebody Loves Me"
That might be true in more than one way
More ways than you seem to need

I tried my best not to look back
But I know you stood in the doorway as I walked off
Sometimes it's the little things that mean so much
Sometimes a walk in the cold is enough

Yesterday I sat on your porch,
and drew pink chalk hearts around
your doormat.  You asked me if I
wanted sweet tea and I said yes,
though all I really wanted was your
lips against my ear.  Whispering how
much you missed the smell of
my perfume on your pillow.

And sometimes I take snapshot of my
face when I cry. I mail them to you
in a grey envelope and on the back of every
one I write down confessions about
what animals I'd run over in the
road that day, and how they all made
the same loud thump under my wheels,
no matter how hard I pushed on the gas
pedal, or how much I turned up the stereo.

Occasionally you bring the pictures
back to me, telling me everything you
know about radio waves, road ****, and how
they relate to the tread on my tires.  You tell
me things I won't ever need to know, but
will never be able to forget no matter
how many times I try to burn the memories
of you from my frontal lobe.

I guess that's another reason why I love you.
Because no one's ever told me how
they make the colors in my favorite
fourth of July fireworks.

a white picket fence
bordered the backyard
of my childhood home,

a neatly trimmed hedge
my father planted himself
framed the front,

there used to be a pine tree,
it was replaced with an artificial
fish pond a decade ago,

the house was yellow,
not musty or vibrant,
but like a sunflower

with a dark green door
atop seven steps
leading to the front porch

that used to leak rainwater
into our pots and pans
whenever a storm came.

i used to have a telescope
stationed in my bedroom window
to observe the bank across the street,

there were two lenses,
one magnified the zoom
while the other inverted the image,

i remember watching people
work at their desks attached to the ceiling,
but it just made my head hurt.

when the bank would close at dusk
i would tilt the telescope
to glance at the night sky.

i always searched for Mars,
i sometimes claimed to have found it
but it was probably just space-junk.

that same telescope now rests
collecting dust in my basement,
searching for stars amidst forgotten treasures.