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Hello Sayer May 2012
The snow melts to reveal sad assortments of garbage
Strewn along the sidewalks like a ***** bricolage
The geese occupy our emptying quad
Each is a blessed sign from your god

The early bird rises far before the dawn
Bragging in bird-tongue about his perfect lawn
Global warming shows its ugly face
And the weather becomes a temperamental disgrace

Moving trucks and vans headed toward the interchange
Each summer my peers look forward to happy change
To work or not to work, that is the question
But often work is more than just a suggestion

April is the time of transitions
The time of decisions
Move from brain to body
From student to entry-level nobody

It’s nice work if you can get it
But every year I forget it
Wait until the last minute
Get hired just in time to quit

Exams and singing
Farewells and resume printing
Interviews and bargaining
All these things remind me of spring

Longing glances across the fluorescent lights of the store
I long with everything I have for him to cross the floor
Every year we interact but nothing more
But every year I hope the power goes out so I can be his *****

Well, roll up your sleeves
It’s time to produce!
Five months away from the tuition-grabbing thieves
So there’s absolutely no excuse!
Hello Sayer Apr 2012
Cat call in the distance at three am
Someone far away is hot
And someone far away is *****
Decisions made with beer goggles
As you half-sleep in a bubbly, pleasant haze
There’s more evidence for evolution
Than skeletons and theories
I think as I hear a college girl
Shriek just like a chimpanzee
Below on Spruce Street
Far away noises sound so close
They are inside my tiny flat
Invading

How frightening it would be to venture outside so late
On a saturday night
And soak up the stupidity
Violence at the slightest provocation
Passive-aggressive friendliness
Walk past a bar
Would I make it home alive?

The city lights cast a morning glow
on the trees and the now-grey sky
It looks as if the sun is rising

But, no, I’m still here in my warm, fluffy bed
Half-asleep, half-awake like most nights
When will I escape this vampire’s schedule?
I long for the early mornings of my youth
Seven am, the darkness lingering
Birds chirping, parents yelling,
Reading on the school bus
Innocence, naïveté, thinking life was so difficult then
But it wasn’t
That was just the beginning

The **** population skyrockets after two am
Because nothing good happens then
Birds, maybe robins, singing at four am
Everything is backwards at this hour
And so much more frightening
Terrified of even leaving my room
Down the dark, empty hallway

Maybe I’m just jealous
I wish I had some friends to be stupid and drunk with
Some men and boys too
Even just some alcohol
A cold glass of beer
To help me sleep
To taste
So bubbly and bittersweet
Pop with a punch
I must imagine my glass of water as a mug of beer
And hope...
I wrote this at 4 am.  Yay insomnia and nocturnalism and inventing new words!
Hello Sayer Mar 2012
"****!"

She gasps, looking out at the people waiting for buses
She talks to herself quickly but loudly, turning away
As if she were reciting her lines for a play
A blonde woman
So neatly yet modestly put together

How could one bus stop be so full of crazies?
The old woman and her toddler granddaughter
With bright yellow hair
Get up from their bench and move away in fear
While I draw closer

She mumbles so fiercely and so quietly
That I cannot make out a word
She is so tightly wound
Like a broken watch
At a mad tea party

Suddenly she disappeared
And my bus came

What did life do to her?

As I ride down King
I see her again
Beaming as she walks by the skating rink
In front of town hall
Reciting her own world for herself

Why does God hate her?
About a mentally unstable woman at the bus station.
Hello Sayer Jul 2012
You strip naked and then
Display your protruding ribs and your gentle curves
Bask in the lust and admiration of drooling men
Glued to their MacBooks, fingers pressed to nerves

You think you are a *** symbol
Your beauty commands respect
Strong and nimble
Attention simply what you expect

But you’re wrong about your power
You’re weak, tied with a tether
A fragile, dainty flower
Crumbling under a feather

You do what they tell you to do

Tiny **** are better than sagging thighs
Body hair like buzzing flies
Cellulite
Overnight
You are a socialite

Swallow pills so hearty
Starve day after day as you become more vein
Stay up all night at parties
Prolong the pain

Hover over the toilet below
Half crying, half vomiting, hungover
Your guilty pleasures are reality shows
The Biggest Loser, Extreme Makeover

Love, *** and lust
Drive you to do this
Or maybe you just want trust
For someone to care instead of dismiss

The powder from the thick white sponge invades your nostrils
It is the bread, your red nail polish the wine
Vogue and Cosmo your glossy gospels
Your closetful of designer shoes a shrine

Cocktail dresses and Gucci are your new burger and draught
Finding nourishment in Martinis, icy words
Why do you think this will make up for your past?
All it does is make it worse
Hello Sayer Mar 2012
I miss you
You always smelled like flowers
Like a woman
I wanted that scent
so I could breathe it in every day and feel you
picture you
put in on and become you
I still want to become you
You're perfect
Your ***** blond hair
Your moon-shaped glasses
Your shoulder bag
Your salads
Your smile
Your quick wit  
Those rebellious ears that stick out
Just like you do
In a crowd
The freckles and tiny hairs on your arms
Your slim fingers
So perfect
So immaculate
So precise
Your forest green cardigans and white dress shirts
Your tweed jacket and pants
Your ancient blackberry
Your voice
Smooth as milk and honey
Your exercises
Your books
Your mind

Your ring
Which you no longer wear
What do divorced men do with their rings?
Do they make love to them?
Hello Sayer Mar 2012
Kinesiology is the new brain surgery
Preferential treatment
A Martyr for your sugar gene

Cat fights
Bud lights
Hookups and straightened hair
This is the new Jesus

Wouldn't you know
It's the jocks and the nerds again
Over and over until
you've lost all your friends

To a horrible incident
where you decided to be free
This is why you will always
Be better than me

Projectile *****
Thesis on emesis
I am so green
I am peridot and coriander

Caring about what they think
Watching all the popular shows

Does and stags
Waving flags
Pre-packaged beliefs
Artificial older sister
Looking down your nose

You are so humble
You are so polite
It's the other person's fault
When you get in a fight

But most of all
You aren't racist
You aren't racist
There's no way you're a racist
About a person who I think is more automaton than human being and who is seen as much better than others because of her artificial bland mainstream nature.  Might make this into a song.
Hello Sayer Mar 2012
Documentaries and conspiracy theories keep me awake
All the stories of the dead from the past make me shake

I lie awake hearing about cruelty around the world
It makes me shudder and squirm
I want to stop but I can't
I'm a morbid book worm

I want you here with me, Martha my dear
Make these visions of heads dissapear

I need to be with the ones I love
Even the ones I'm in love at
I'm so fond of sleeping
But I don't want to die for that

I watch you across the black jungle
Of lights and sound and drum and music
Wish you goodnight
Wish you would love me
Wish you goodnight

I wonder what demons will appear as soon as I close my eyes
Maybe some truths are better as lies
I find it hard to sleep after reading about conspiracy theories and the horrible things that are happening around the world.
Hello Sayer Mar 2012
A hat from the 'twenties
a slender form
a dark blur approaches
mumbled instructions
to himself
  
A pale face
and round glasses
a smooth, lazy voice
declarations of the mundane
walking down the hall...
  
A strong dose of TMI
with a hint of philosophy,
genius?
  
A cordial nod
My heart attempts to
strangle me
I want to leave...

That is how I know he is coming
That moment of joy and fear when you see the silhouette of someone you like (as in "amore") at the other end of a hallway.
Hello Sayer Mar 2012
Your voice was so cold
when I told you
Different, inhuman
I never experienced that
I guess I thought telling you
would change you
into a superhero
who would save the damsel in distress
The girl who lost her mother

Pitch black
But my eyes had adapted
I knew from the start
you were a ******
But I've become blind lately
It was just like
Just like you were
Talking to a patient in a hospital
at night
As if you were about to **** her
Maybe you're a vulture

But I don't think you feed on that meat
It was just so fake
And I regretted it
Thinking I could trust you
You don't care
I guess
Why would you?

I want to know
how you work
How you've become this
but it's too late
I leave tomorrow at eleven
No time
No time to even give you a chance

And we both say "you" so much
Me because I loved you
You because you wanted to lead me on

I guess that's all it ever was
just trying to catch a fish
And every time you asked me about school
it was just to know your fckng deadline

I still hope it isn't true
I pray for flowers or nice words
But I know deep down
nothing will happen tomorrow
Time will tell
Just prove it to me

Maybe I have to cry
I was really hoping not
But the way things are going
it probably won't take much

I loved you
It seemed you were the only one
who noticed my glasses or my hair
No boy ever could before
Now I know why your act was so important
Or do I?
What's in it for you?
I'll never know

And I still hope it isn't true
I wish for flowers or nice words from you
But I can tell you're bored stiff
You know all the tricks
and you just want the loot
you'd rather stare at my flat chest
And daydream until I'm through

Mom would never approve of you
Hello Sayer Mar 2012
I can cry whenever I want
It is an actor's dream
I can cry whenever I want
It's just coursing through my veins
That hurt, ungratefulness
Inner discord
It's calling to me
Let it out!
But I hold it in so well
I am a terrible actor
I have an unexpressive face
Or maybe just a lack of courage in expressing emotions
Tears are physical
Aren't they?
Or are they emotional?
I am a terrible actor
Because I'm so good at catching and keeping
What should be out in the open
I can cry whenever I want
Hello Sayer Mar 2012
I feel surrounded by countless fears
The world for me has nothing but hate
It's getting harder and harder to hold back the tears
For I have an infamous tendency to be late

And that's just how they would phrase it too
So holier-than-thou with their watches
In this world swiftly turned to zoo
Time is king and we are just the notches

My teacher felt the urge to inform me today
That I am late in every way
Late in my work, late in my location
Late in choosing my perfect vocation

And even if you try your hardest
Treat your task as a craft
If you were there the latest
Everyone will view you as daft

Well from now on I will try hard to be on time
I'll cut the corners and muddle through the grime
This problem brings me so much shame
And my peers always choose my head to blame

But never assume that I don't care
Do not believe I enjoy this flaw
For like all the great singers and witty writers rare
My punctuality will someday leave the world in awe
A poem about my dissapointing tendency to be late.
Hello Sayer Aug 2012
My love is a judge.
A cold judge with a heart made of stone.
You couldn't call it love.
The more appropriate word would be test.
My love is a test
Put forth by the judge.

If I move away,
If I speak quietly or
If I don't speak at all
It is all held against me.
Evidence for the other side.

My love seems so hopeless,
Like catching and trapping air
In my bare hands.

He wants me;
It seems like he really wants me
And I want him, so badly,
But I can't.
I've tried to speak up for myself
But my words travel to the back of my mind
Instead of streaming out of my mouth,
Like the butterflies always nestled
In my stomach.

Love is a risky thing.
I can't picture us being together
Without whispering and ridicule.
It's so beautiful
But at the same time so horrible.

Love is a drug,
An ecstasy.
So distracting that you forget your friends.
And for what?
One look.
A voice,
A gorgeous, but hesitant voice;
A mystery.
That mystery that pulls you out of bed each morning,
And brushes your teeth.
But love was,
Is
And will always be
Nothing.
Hello Sayer Mar 2012
I spend all my time thinking about him until I see him face to face
and suddenly he is absolutely repulsive
I can't look at him anymore
I find all his bad qualities
His bad habits when performing
Mistakes
And I wonder why I loved him

But my feelings don't change a whit
because when he leaves I can't bear to be separated from him
Not see him for another day, another week
And I feel a dagger in my heart
A kick when I'm sprawled out on the floor, bleeding
As he walks down the stairs with her
They hold hands in their minds
for even though they do not touch I can feel their bodies connect
Never think he is staring at you
Across the room
Unless it is obvious
Guy I like has a girlfriend or at least someone who seems like a girlfriend.
Hello Sayer Jun 2012
Cardboard and colour
Voices altered with equipment
Just paper and ink
But it is so special to me
I watch as he is assembled from raw materials
Black pen
Markers
Pro Tools
Adobe
Microphones
Cameras
Clicks of the mouse
They gain meaning in seconds
Create a life
Something so close to life
And truth
In the animation studio
They have no idea what they have done to me
How they have possessed me
Locked in my bedroom for days
He is ready to haunt my dreams
As I recreate the narrative in my head
Alter it
Play with my love object
The soundtrack softly playing in my mind
Every nuance replicated
More in love with him than any human
After all
Could any human ever be so perfect?
I watch his every move on screen
Drink up every detail around him
So it is locked in my memory
Every character in every book becomes him
Every situation, every plot described to me is tainted with his presence
He keeps me up late at night
I burn his face into my memory
My soul
About animated fictional characters and how people can become very obsessed with them.
Hello Sayer Mar 2012
Perverts
Perverts
Every single one of them
Their bright, lustful eyes
That needy, clingy smile
Desire reeks from every part of their body
Without them I cannot work
Without them I cannot sing for my supper
And yet I want to punch them all in the face
I want to disown them

I can't describe that awful feeling
That they don't want you for your voice, your musicality
They want you for that unnamed act
And although they've never tried
You are deathly afraid of giving them the opportunity
The polite consent

I wish I had the work ethic, the talent
To leave and find great work
Beautiful timbres and songs
New music all the time
Competence and prestige

I must endure their constant attempts to get closer
Even if just by a few steps
It makes my blood boil
My heart pound with utter rage
It's more than I can stand

And they flatter and flatter
Until their throats go dry
Until they can no longer hold their giant grin
I wish something would physically stop them

They know my insecurity
And they manipulate it
They invest
And they play the cruel game of time
Wait for their golden opportunity

When the time has come
I flee like a gazelle on the savannah
I'm tired of running
I'm tired of holding back the scream of rage
The shriek of frustration

Someday they won't be able to push me around
Hello Sayer Mar 2012
I know it inside me
And I can feel it
Everyone has it to some degree
A beauty about them
Everyone will be loved
Everyone finds someone
To love them

But I haven't found him

So much lust
From men with the wrong beauty for me
I feel just like them
Looking for the one
I want to love
But it's not returned
It's never returned

I can't wait
I can't wait

Is he brown-haired and tweed?
Is he a four-eyed blond?
Is he full of confidence?
I have so many hopes and crushes
Crushed

Is he perfect or almost perfect?
Or one of those men with the wrong beauty?
Will I settle?

No, I won't back down.
I'm an idealist so I won't back down.
You can't make me settle
Like they did in 1391.
You can't make me settle
Like they did in 1391.
You can't make me settle.
Like Erin Everly.
Love... unrequited...
Hello Sayer Aug 2012
I’m singing his song.
I’ll be singing his song.
My lips are singing that song,
So why do I think this is wrong?

Yeah, my lips are singing
And the air from my lungs, like a
Sigh makes my voice start a-ringing
Why do you blame it on me?
It’s my lips, my lungs, my face,
My teacher that carry the music.

It’s not like I’m having your baby
(Besides, I’m too much of a lady).
I’m just singing that song;
Your song.

What’s the big deal?
It’s not like I’m a seal
And you’re the ringmaster.
I’m a sea lion woman
And no one can tell me otherwise
(Except *****).

No, no, no, no, no, no!
It’s just fear;
A simple word,
A simple anagram for fare.
Food isn’t bad.
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!
I’m afraid that the one moment I have
To show what I’m made of
Will just reveal
Cracked vocal chords,
Notes sung off-key,
Wobbling words,
A rushed rhythm, racing to
Finish the song,
Incompetence,
Failure,
And it’s all on purpose.

I don’t want to sing your song;
At least not well.
I don’t want to sing that song of yours;
The one you know you’d ask me to sing.
I don’t,
And I probably shouldn’t,
But I will.
If you want me to.
Written April 28, 2008, while I was in high school.  Someone asked me to perform (sing) a song he had written for music class.  I had a crush on him and, in my utter shyness and awkwardness, I found the entire situation uncomfortable and stressful.  It seems a bit whiny in retrospect.
Hello Sayer Mar 2012
Spain
France
Rain
Pants!
Pain
Can't
Hurt him.
Rain
Dance
Brain
Chance?
Gain?
Sham?
Flirting
Cane
Ants
Cain
Aunts
Pain
Who wears the pants?
Who wears the pants?
Insane
Disco Dance
Insane
Disco Dance
  
Spain
France
Rain
Pain
Rain
Brain
Gain
Cane
Cain
Pain
Insane
PANTS!!!!
This was just a fun and random poem that isn't really supposed to make sense. It's fun to gradually transform words. I think this poem has the potential to be the lyrics to a techno song maybe.
Hello Sayer Mar 2012
Like a holiday in a person
The ultimate diplomat
Gilded with tweed
Won the Euclid and the Fermat
Child prodigy
And a perfect gentleman
A perfect gentleman

You were Atlantis
when I first met you
I was so terrified
that I couldn't impress you
You were so perfect
So beautiful
You smelled like flowers

Had to know what the smell was
What flower?
Where are you from?
What are you?  Who are you?
A breath of fresh air?
An angel, a fairy?
A devil, a liar?

You packed up your Viper's tongue
Your lyre
Your childish analogies
It seems you have a taste for
skinny pale intellectuals
with unusual but not improbable hair colours
And now you're in Florence

Did I scare you away?
About a lovely person I will probably never see again.
Hello Sayer Jun 2012
Sky tinged blue and pink, clouds drifting high
Like a cheery pre-school
Walking under the nine o’clock cotton candy sky
I journey to the pool

So safe in the water’s arms
Techno music playing like the sound of an alarm
Water caresses my feet like silk
Tonight the dolphin is of my ilk

Humans so fish-like when they swim
Power and finesse, bodies smooth and slim
Quick graceful flips as they turn around for another lap
I long for the slippery speed of the swimming caps

I would be so naked on land
My fat thighs like a black brand
But in the water I am beautiful
Even the most vigorous stroke strangely blissful

Ten o’clock as the empty complex prepares to sleep for the night
Ten o’clock and fast food chains, cars, street lamps, cell phones provide the light
I have much longer to go
Before I rest my head upon the pillow

Inhaling the sweet smell of chlorine
As I pass by the pool like a patient full of codeine
Body so empty, purged of excess weight
Mind wondering whether it can still stay up late

Body so limp and useless after swimming
Eyes blurring, hair wet and ears ringing
The sky is dark blue like water twenty feet below the ocean surface
Blue half-obscured by black clouds and for once I am not nervous

Tonight life is a dream
I am covered with a shield, a stream
Of water, faintness and fatigue
Tonight I am infallible, full of intrigue
Hello Sayer Mar 2012
To be fair he doesn't know me
To be fair it doesn't slow me down

There's a chance
A possibility
You talk to me
How great is that?
You want to know me
But can't you see?
I hate to talk about myself

I'm the boring one
Who only talks about work
I'm the boring one
That means I'm practically a ****
I'm the boring one
Oh no!  How could this be?
I'm the boring one
I'm the boring one

You ask how I am
I ask you back
You say you're great
It's a repeated track
And then the weather
That's where we all can agree
It hurts to talk about myself

I'm the boring one…..

You were the worst one
Investigating my plight
You always asked me
What are you doing tonight?
Pathetic answers
Made me avoid you
It kills me to talk about myself
About a guy at my work that seemingly wanted to know everything about me. I was suspicious of him and I do not like talking about myself because I am uncertain of myself in general.
Hello Sayer Mar 2012
You can't write a song or a poem
without being a slave to its form
It is no longer an outlet like it used to be
It is just a place to copy the people who used it as an outlet
Or to challenge them
But nevertheless not just simply for expressing what is inside you

What is inside me
are visions of mocking faces
turned backs
Upturned noses
Shunning

I am the idiot
That is my archetype
I guess that would mean I act as a comic relief device
Except I'm not very funny
And I don't find it funny that people laugh at
someone struggling sizzling swerving crashing into the waves of misfortune
That didn't make sense
So now people will discount my poem
Because it doesn't make sense
It doesn't follow the ******* rules
And it doesn't make sense of not making sense
Everyone must draw within the lines
Move within the cookie cutter
Fill it

Soon they'll be discussing me
Gossiping
I'll never work with them again
Because I didn't do the work
Oh, could any words be more cruel?
But it's true
I deserve pain, death for betraying them so
But I did try to do it
Oh how I wanted to give a good first impression
But I didn't prepare ahead of time
I didn't manage my time
Such violent words
Blunt, yet sharp
I'm just so sick of all these rules - in poetry, in literature, in society. People are so obsessed with deadlines and it really annoys me.
Hello Sayer Mar 2012
The stress keeps me awake
My bedtime is pushed forward an hour
Three hours
At three thirty I admit defeat and rest my head
Or so I think
Gritted teeth and dry mouth
Growling belly
Arching back
Aching wisdom tooth
The pillow slowly slips away from me
I try to dream up horrible fantasies
Male vulnerability
Hostages and electrodes
Conscious becomes unconscious
While I lie awake trying to be as still as a wall
Instead I tremble like a leaf attached to the tree by a millimeter
I know in the morning my blankets will seem so much softer
My dreams absolutely captivating
I'll have regretted my time of cold feet and absolute terror
The next day will bring horrors unimaginable
Humiliation, fear, rushing from place to place
And without warning I achieve what I've been waiting for
I drift away
I'm in the room of my dreams
My room
I don't remember ever physically going there but here I am
And it is so familiar.
I see it every three years in my dreams
I must belong there in some way
It is the room of my soul
The place of turning points, perhaps
All-encompassing mahogany brown
Nineteenth century
A court house, a church and a mansion all in one
Justice, religion, riches
Do I believe in any of these things?
My eyes drink it all in although I've seen it many times without remembering
I think it is in England
This place
A long table at the front
And a pulpit and an altar
It is hard to remember
But so vivid in dreams
There are other rooms
Thousands
But this room stands at the top of the mansion
A square balcony in the middle of the room opens to the rest of the house below
It is filled with gold and brown antiques
They remind me of my bookish grandmother

I see a classmate of mine from university
I sang in Chapel Choir with him
An aspiring conductor now
Always taking things seriously and getting excellent marks
He greeted me
Seeing as it was a dream I expected some wise conducting advice
Since I have no aptitude for it at all
But suddenly a frightening brown-haired marionette was pressed to my face
Muppet-like in appearance with red lips and freakish features
Beckoning me to come to her
In some dark cabaret of the mind
But I was already there
My classmate's face was impossible to see now
She consoles and coaxes
Dances with me
I know he wants to manipulate me
His puppet tells me to relax and sit down
My pink roommate barges in and doesn't seem at all curious about what is going on
She looks on the ground for what she is missing
And speaks in short confused sentences
I feel uncertain, yet relaxed
I think I am safe since my roommate is in the same room
The puppet pinches my shin and injects a clear fluid into my leg
Then extracts the blood slowly and uncomfortably
I feel strange, more faint
I open my eyes and I am in my small dark room again
My escape was a success
I still feel the pinch of the needle on my shin
So I shake off the feeling
My first instinct is to try to continue the dream
I want to know what happens next
What happened and why
And yet it was so real
The thought of continuing seemed terrible
I tried and tried but it had stopped for good
For that short time I had completely abandoned my problems and responsibilities
For more frightening new ones
I felt like I was a fictional character
A much better embodiment than being a real person
But that room
Maybe I belong there
Maybe I am something more special than I am now
The room of my dreams, my soul
The room of my past, present and future
Maybe I will call it Court Church
I was left more tired than I had ever felt after a near sleepless night
A walking zombie
The curse of Court Church
Based on a place that keeps appearing in my dreams.
Hello Sayer Mar 2012
You're not a friend
who was certain I'd never be there
I didn't have a friend
to cry on my shoulder
I had a monotone, crackling wall for company
I was plastered to the wall
I believed it as eternity

I planned my escape:
How can I pull away?
but you, the wall, stood fast
You rejected my blood and tears
as I tried to saw my hand off to escape

You hated me
And as I shook your plaster off,
pulling away from you,
I found a tar fence
barbed wire
sticky teeth

You hated me
How I knew a few things that you didn't
But how you clung to me!
So tight that it became your revenge

You froze and became a block of ice
You hated me so much that you would release me
with a quick slide and slip I was free
but it was the most cold, painful freedom I had ever felt
I couldn't even return your rope
without slipping and falling

Now I can see through you
I can see the other rooms
I can see the people, the places, the world

With you I was bound and blind

But tonight I'll pass you by
And maybe, if I'm dreadfully unlucky, I will taste that frozen tar
and *****

Each gesture was an insult
A friend from high school who seemed to get madder and madder at me day-by-day for literally no reason and she expected me to figure it out. I never did figure it out and she hasn't talked to me since.
Hello Sayer Mar 2012
Words were never spoken or exchanged.
"The GO Train is here."
The only five words anyone there ever thought they needed to hear
besides
they weren't words
they were mentality
the briefcases
purses
newspapers
click-a-clacks of heels
rustling of zippers and keys
scrapings of sandals
rollings of bags
sharp noses
blank eyes
all pointed at their exact target
click clack
click clack
a steady stream
of everyone and anyone
men with full black business suits
girls in Gouci and jeans
ladies in Reitmans
men in checkered shirts and khaki shorts
like ants they piled into the
green and white
snake
dreading the fatal announcement
"last call!  Last call!"
they accelerated
full grown men and women
whipping and thudding and click-a-clacking
the wind pushed them back to their cars
the ground screamed "Stop!"
but they didn't listen
a woman
all in blue
who could raise the dead
with her clacking
daintily ran as fast as she could
"DOORS SHUT!" the conductor's voice was muffled
and he followed through
in a spurt of perseverance
soundlessly
the doors closed
At least the adults knew one thing
no amount of noise could open them
so they didn't try
the blue-clad woman slowed to a stop
the GO train had gone
she slumped in the middle of the station
the wind urged her
but suddenly
the train came again
always there
always gone
CLICK CLACK
the heels revived
click clack
click
clack
clack
About the GO-Train to Toronto. I've always felt bad for the people that have to commute that way, because unlike a bus that can stop for the people running to catch it, it is unforgiving and will not stop or open its doors. Also I think if you are in the way of the door when it's closing, it won't move back, so it could easily cut people's limbs off. Scary stuff. The GO-Train is fun to ride, but also kind of evil.
Hello Sayer Mar 2012
Verse:

Eleanor Roosevelt, Rosa Parks, Ghandi, Lucille Ball
Quiet and soft-spoken
Take the spotlight
Every bone in their body tells them not to
They took it not because they wanted to
Not because they enjoyed directing others
Not out of the pleasure of being looked at
Because they had no choice
Because they were driven to do what they thought was right

Chorus:

Roosevelt and Ghandi
Rosa Parks and lovely Lucy
Inner peace is what we all need
You're not a failure if you can believe

Verse:

Steve Martin, Ella Fitzgerald, Nicole Kidman, Lucille Ball
Shy actress was an oxymoron
In the so-called Golden Age
Let's make today the real Golden Age
And stop being so mean to each other
Take a walk in another person's shoes
Play the role of the person terrified to speak
Turn a party around so you can see it the way we see it
As a battleground
As a place of judgement and fear

Verse:

Einstein, Lincoln, Edison, me, you!
Laughed at in their classes and by the masses
When they had the ideas to change the world
If you would ever let them read their books
How many people have given up their dreams?
Just because they were shy?
There has to be a better way to deal with this
And someday I know you will get there
Touch the sky, touch our hearts
And find the love you always wanted


Bridge:

Solitude
Solitude
Inner peace is what we all need
The ability to be you
The ability to be the original
Not the knock off
This is inspired by Susan Cain's speech "The Power of Introverts." I felt so moved and uplifted by her words that I decided to write song lyrics based on some of the ideas in her speech.
Hello Sayer Mar 2012
The results are in
I couldn't resist
I had to find my future
So I opened the box
and had a little fun
All I ever wanted
was the narwhal and the walrus

I dusted it off
the plastic green box
from my days of innocence
full of tiny noble animals
from every kingdom
So precious to me
I couldn't ever give it away

I dusted them off
and put them in couples
everything in pairs
everyone in pairs
Just like our world
And I wanted the walrus
but what choice did I have?
So I added some consolation prizes...

I'm bound to get one of them
The Walrus who slouches
The Ant who never listens
The Turtle who talks to himself
The Whale with the deformity
The Praying Mantis (too religious!)
The T-Rex with the family situation
Or at least the Shark who seems a little gay
I entered with seven ballots

So I paired the world off
the animal kingdom
inter species was the point
but it couldn't work
I got the seal
Probably beautiful
but not who I want
Dissapointment ruled me
And I had to know what happened
Maybe I just wanted power?
Well they all found other species
Probably forgot about me
even the Walrus
he got an old Elephant

The feeling was dangerous
nostalgic
but all I ever wanted
was the Walrus and the Narwhal
A superstitious young adult pays a nostalgic visit to her dusty collection of little plastic animals.
Hello Sayer Mar 2012
Today is my last day
I having energy drinks
I am giving them hope
No one will see this
Who would know where I stole this snippet from?
Very vague
But I don't care
I have to write this poem
I don't know if it's a song yet

I stared blankly at the screen
for a couple minutes
What the hell does he mean?
Is it the last day... forever?
But maybe it's the last day
and then he has a big vacation
recovers from that back injury

Today is my last day
I am having energy drinks
I am giving them hope
Drugged up like the guy
who went to Vegas
How could you understand me?

But that woman said she missed working with him
Does that mean he's gone?
Does that mean he's leaving?
Leaving me?
How could he?
My heart is crumbling
I wish this was a bad dream

I used to long for Today
Today is the last day
I am having energy drinks
I am giving them hope
I'm sure it has nothing
nothing, nothing to do with me

Feeling hollow inside
I have to stop caring
about that nerd
with hidden depths
hidden depths
he's a puzzle
I'll never finish
never finish

Today is my last day
I am having energy drinks
I am giving them hope
When there is none
And I'll miss you (you don't miss me)
I'll miss you (you can't miss me)
I'll miss you (you never kissed me)
I missed you (you never missed me)
I guess I missed you
You never missed me
You never missed me
Have a good one
About a guy from work that I had/have a crush on.  In song format.
Hello Sayer May 2012
Ben Kowalewicz (spoken): Hi, my name is Ben Kowalewicz and this is Billy Talent.

Well I tripped, I fell down naked
I drank from a cup of lead
I hugged a skunk, it peed on me
Yesterday I joined Scientology

Steal a Camaro, then **** Jack Sparrow
Try stupid ****, try stupid ****
Jump in a dump truck, smell **** and get stuck
I cannot read, I cannot read
**** on computers, then drink some pewter
Die sanity, die sanity
Marry a cheapskate, gain ninety pounds weight
I'm really dumb, I'm really dumb

I'm stupid, it's my fault, so daft
I like to play in the garbage shaft
The best sport is Parkour, **** straight
I arrive at work five hours late

Drink a deep fryer, eat some barbed wire
Try stupid ****, try stupid ****
Sleep in a fireplace, burn your entire face
I cannot read, I cannot read
Cinnamon challenge, go on a chalk binge
Die sanity, Die sanity
Bike into traffic, pose pornographic
I'm a *******, I'm a *******

I ate some poo!

I'm stupid, it's my fault
Try
I'm stupid, it's my fault
Lie
This bad song don't make sense
Pie

Get a Prince Albert, snake blood for dessert now?
Drink some Everclear, cut off your own ear now?

Go back in time to, forties as a Jew
Try stupid ****, try stupid ****
Do *** and rip off your right knee
I cannot read, I cannot read
Find the KKK, put on some blackface
Die sanity, die sanity
Locate a pervert, then take off your shirt
I am a twit, I am a twit

I am a twit, I am a twit
Try stupid ****, try stupid ****
I am a twit, I am a twit
Parody of Billy Talent's song "Try Honesty."  About people who do really stupid things.  The first line was added by me to poke fun at *******.
Hello Sayer Mar 2012
She always sits in front of me
Face full of zits
Frizzy tight curls
Tacky clothes
Thin as a pencil  
You're so greasy
You're pizza
You're macaroni and cheese
  
Why are all the girls in this choir so hideous?
I get sick to my stomach
when I look at you
you are the smell of sickening sweet
an arts major
insecure
fishing for notes
following the leader
  
And worst of all
you're blocking my view of him
You negate the bliss I feel when I see his face
He's looking at me now
But you can't let him see me
I think he loves me
But you're blocking his view
  
Who else would he want in this section?
And then I glance behind me
  
Big ***** girl
Blond greasy hair
Bangles
Eighties chic
Blue eyes
Brown coat
*******
Red pouting lips
She's not ugly
But by logic she should be
  
And I realize I'm a fool
It's her
He can't stop looking at her
  
I'm getting annoyed
He can't control his head
Always turned to my corner of the room
What does she think of this?
  
But she's gone
I won't see her until tomorrow
Was he looking at someone else?
At me?
I ponder the mystery
Leaving choir and the pizza-faced girl
with a smirk on my face
  
Maybe I'm not an ugly choir girl
The psychological dance that goes on during a boring choir practice (or even, God forbid, an interesting one)...
Hello Sayer Mar 2012
Slowly unravelling

I'm a useless mess
Under duress
So spoiled
I aimed so high
When I deserved so little
So spoiled

I aimed too high
I'm not good enough for a stable job
Or even peanuts
Unless it is Wal-Mart

All her passive-aggressive talk
I'm not organized enough
When half of it wasn't even my fault
It was the last straw

I need to see a shrink
Or I won't be able to blink
Ever again

She sawed me in half
And I stood there unable to control my tears

It's so hard to cry in public places
Come to think of it even my room is a public place
One little noise that could only mean one thing
And you're finished
Soaked in false affection that makes one feel so guilty
And like such an awful human being

I don't know how to reach out
I don't know how to do anything
Except be the happy child I used to be
I'm not ready to grow up!

I don't know how to make money
Especially not in a respectable way
Society has so many rules
And if you don't follow them you're an outcast

And as fun as that sounds
It really isn't

People say I take myself too seriously
But is it really that funny to see yourself,
a girl with a four-year university degree,
Standing at the check-out counter?
Wouldn't it just be better to **** yourself
than to go through that?

I don't even know how to be a student anymore
I've run out of reasons to even try

I feel like I will explode
I need that warm room with leather sofas
And pens and pads
Where I can scream, cry as hard as I want
As long as I trust
Trust that I will get a nice, big, comforting label
And a cute little jug of pills
Tell them everything
Absolutely everything
Things I wouldn't even put in a poem
that no one will ever see
The things that I lock away
That eat at me, begging to come out
Until I am the rotted core of what used to be a person

Why can't I trust?
No matter where I go there is no one to help me
I am nothing but an annoying little *****
Let it out
Let it out

Please Reason, Science, Mother Nature, God!
I wish things would get better
Feeling hopeless...
Hello Sayer Mar 2012
Take me back to when top hats were like business suits
When the white moths had become black with filth
When the Thames was brown like the rotted teeth of beggars
And not just because of the mud
When the Irish and the Slavic were exotic
When London was Birmingham
When Birmingham was Liverpool
When Liverpool was a country village
When there were millions
And yet they were still so innocently oblivious
Take me to the city clothed in black
For there was always a funeral somewhere
London
The noisy factories
And crowded slums
The fear that the cold brings
The pain that disease brings
The real London
The honest London
The dark, deadly London of my nightmares
Every narrow, dimly-lit alleyway dripping with **** and blood
Full of criminals and drunks
Ominous dark brown bricks
The suffocating stink that follows you wherever you go
Cursing, begging
Lifting, cuffing, gaffing, looting, nicking, pinching, swiping, thieving, pilfering, pillaging
Hundreds of words for stealing
Where the poor are painfully poor
Where every woman that smiles at you is a *******
Corpses lying in the streets
Next to gas lamps
The only beacons of light
People packed into bedrooms like chickens
Sleeping on the string

Highly disturbing
But it's best not to interfere
For someone else will deal with it
Industry and decency will save us all

There is no trace of that now
Except the noble stone buildings
Commissioned by the corrupt

This is my fear and obsession
For some reason I am fascinated by this particular time and place: the slums of Victorian London. I'm talking Whitechapel in 1891 or Spitalfields in 1888 or something. That's where it's at!
Hello Sayer Mar 2012
Little wallflower at the back of the room
Sitting pretty, waiting to bloom
Watching the others in their gaiety
Dreaming of tiny steps to spontaneity

If you have something to say, say it
But even when you do, you delay it
Sitting in the back all alone
Where have you hidden your backbone?

You wait it out until that perfect silence
The challenge, the defiance
Of delivering the right answer
When everyone else just stands there

But it seems it will never come
You'd rather they think you were dumb
Instead of watching the heads turn
And feeling your throat burn

And it has to be something meaningful
Something wise, beneficial
Because this is the leaf upturned
This is the incense finally burned

You must be wise and reveal a profound truth
Or the silent one will be seen as the dumb mute
But not too weird and different either
Or you might as well be having a seizure

As you speak there is such an unjust silence
And as you finish an applause and laughter like raw violence
For despite your careful wording
They will never pay attention to anything but asserting

Asserting, asserting is gold
Asserting yourself and being bold
Being confident, being ****
Being exposed, being rude

Even if you proved the professor wrong
Even if in three seconds you wrote a song
Even if you recited a hundred digits of Pi
All they care about is that you are speaking and that you were once shy

And that
my friends
is a spectacle
About being shy in a school setting. It ***** sometimes.
Hello Sayer Mar 2012
I sat down by the piano at the back
He passed me by
The look in his eye said he would be sitting beside me
I prayed he would change his mind
I bent down to get a book from my backpack
Not wanting to find out his decision
He sat down right in front of me
His Stratford shirt mocked me with it's writing on the back,
"What you wish may not be what you want"
Seriously?
Stretching inches away from me
Uncomfortably close
A complete freak
No one else would want to be closer
I haven't been this close in a long time
And it occurred to me,
despite the sneering T-shirt
that he might actually like me
that maybe that smile I flashed him in the hallway last week
actually didn't look like someone trying to throw up
that he's taming me
like the little prince tamed the fox
moving closer and closer every day
that something might happen
and it terrified me
I couldn't handle it
I haven't found out who I am
I'm not ready
Ah the joy of having one of your crushes in your class. I believe that was the only reason I took that class. And I ended up nearly failing it.

— The End —