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Sep 2011 · 706
Out of Check
Joshua Gilton Sep 2011
We live in a society that treats us as Pawns.
I have no intentions in taking the bullet for the Kings of industry.
I take no comfort in the twisted words of the political Bishops sidestepping there way into power.
Noble Knights  follow the corrupt Queen to protect the interest of enslavement.
The Castle walls are built by the Rooks from the bones of the defiant.
There is no where to move or breathe but on this board of hardship.
( 9-22-11   8:08pm )
Sep 2011 · 776
I come to you now
Joshua Gilton Sep 2011
I come to you now, and I am drunk

Even though whiskey has slurred my words

My thoughts come still and steady

I come to you now with a body tired

I come to you now an ever so lonely man

I come to you now on the brink of tears and war

I come to you now afraid because I am without fear

I come to you swinging with closed fist and an open heart

I come to my senses but reality causes me to loose my mind

I come to you now to sleep on your couch because I am still very drunk

I come to you now to repay old favors and owe new ones

I come to you now to reassure my self that I will never need you

But I come to you now because I do

  
II.


I come again now sober

I have come to see drunken thought blatantly clear

I see sober words to hide thoughts away in riddles

But inebriation brings simplicity to this script

I go away from you now with a full mind and a confused heart

But I go to a bright outlook on a bleak future.
Sep 2011 · 1.1k
Dutch fields
Joshua Gilton Sep 2011
Burning leaves in a dark hour
From Dutch fields sweetest flower
In spire me, turn these tears of old
Into sweet rain that waters my soul
May death to peace never be uttered
Were befriending a foe cause discourse to flutter
Like the flicker of a dying flame
May self expression never fade me to shame
For my sad thoughts miss gives some
Empty peace, from whence they've come
Understand do I not, for I choose not
Some questions left to God that purpose forgot
I defy my tears
I defy my weakness
That I may break thought jagged fears
And overcome bitter bleakness

The scorn of my minds undying questions
Burns in confusion with each internal session
May my need to understand never be too much to mention
But now I must go, I have dropped a stone in this pool of reflection
Sep 2011 · 631
Ink
Joshua Gilton Sep 2011
Ink
Ink,
Precious liquid cloak of my heart

You babble with peace of a gentle stream.
You are the water that can revive me

You rage like blood poring from the veins on a battlefield.
You consume me as I lay bleeding waiting to dye the ground beneath.

You apply your stroke on the canvas, forming something beautiful, If even only to the artist.

You sweet release, you everlasting friend,
With your sweeping path left behind after your Journey across the pages, I am soothed and I am comforted.
Jun 2011 · 867
On the Road (Lyrics)
Joshua Gilton Jun 2011
I’m just sitting here in the dark, waiting for this life of mine to start.
Wondering before I leave this world, will I leave a mark?
Or is it true, and I’ve been doomed, from the start.
But I’m getting so tired of being so alone,
Take this burden off my back and leave it on the road
Got to leave this place before it swallows me whole
Find a little fresh air that really suites my soul
And I’m headin out  on the road,
finding that fresh air, that suites my soul
And I’m headed out on the road, were it leads I don’t know
Now I got some good friends, and there going to go with me
Like good old Jack Kerouac and Neal Cassidy
We headed out west till we found the sea.
Hoping on this journey we find the meaning of the word free
Cause we’re breaking those bonds of that mental slavery
That were given cause we live in this society
And we are all looking for a little something to believe
But my position on that decision is completely up to me
And we headed out on the road,
finding that fresh air, that suites our soul
And we headed out on the road, were it leads I don’t want to know
Now driving across the land, and sleeping in a van
Sweating in the dessert air, getting that beach sand our hair
Sleeping on misty mountain tops, getting woke up by the cops
Just going what we can, trying to find out how to be a man
Playing music in the street, for a little change and something to eat
Spending all you time and all your cash for a little bit of fun
and a whole lot of gas
When you heading out on the road,
finding that fresh air that suites your soul
And you head out, out on the road,
were it leads you ain’t ever going to know
And you head out, out on the road,
You find that fresh air and it suites your soul
And you head out, out on the road; you find it leads you home
(Zeus's Woodshed)
Jun 2011 · 1.6k
Bard
Joshua Gilton Jun 2011
Lonesome crusader and ancient gladiator,
He is taking love from the hater while being loyal to his traitor.
Constantly his own narrator, singing those old songs, on his path, as he walks along,
Looking for some forgotten town, with no one around who would try to bring him down.
Were he could not be found
Find his peace in the sounds, as his flesh fades back to dust back beneath the ground.
Jun 2011 · 1.1k
Summer Sweat
Joshua Gilton Jun 2011
Folding Foes, walk yourself down the Georgian line
Sweet savanna wrap around porches in summer sweat
Crushing companies sipping sweet tea on pedestals above me
Anchored at average is that old adage that it attached to the lattice that they try to get past us.
Nailed shoes to our feet and glued to our seat, living in lies and deceit, trying to force our defeat and to break the decree
Held solemnly,
And somberly,
By you
And by me.
Thee, the only lonely listeners of our own sweet soliloquies
In ripping tides of attention tearing through hate and affection,
Is found a pain never to mention for any chosen direction.
Now our learning gets lost in the lesson.
It started with tension, then moves to intervention, but ends with rejection.
Where now it lends to those friends that tend to your need to mend
Jun 2011 · 816
Fishbone
Joshua Gilton Jun 2011
Reach out with a fish bone finger to touch the face of youth.
Using the senses to recall what life once felt like.
Reach out with a fish bone hand.
Wrap it around the shoulder of death,
Make him a welcome guest, so that he may bring you peace and comfort.
Reach out your fishbone arms.
Embrace the soul of winter.
May its cold nature light a fire in your bones.
Lay down your old fish bones
Lay down that old skeleton, so you may find a new kind of skin
Jun 2011 · 1.2k
Emerald Diamonds
Joshua Gilton Jun 2011
Your Beautiful eyes, they can look right through me.
There is no lying when you don’t use words.
Still secrets can be passed in silence.
You weaken me, the only thing that can cut right to my core.
I may be a rock, but you used to erode me in beauty.
You were a sculptor.
You were a vision.
You were inspiration.
Now you are a diamond, harder than any stone cutting anything you wish,
But so beautiful, that you put envy in every eye.
A diamond made by the rough in which you are found.
You shine like a star that can never be touched.
But that is why I prefer the night sky.
Jun 2011 · 490
The Growing Sky
Joshua Gilton Jun 2011
The Sky is growling like a beast
Set upon stalking, hunting.
It is only heard,
Everywhere
All around and all at once,
But definitively being no where.
Breathing with a low rumble, speaking with a roar
Whispering secretes, screaming a soothing melody in the fire crack
Hazy reflections dodge there way through the skies tears,
Finding the dry space between.
Ripples in the road side puddles
Roaring waterfalls falling from the forest leaves
Single rain drops, peace full in solitude.
But together they cause the clawed creatures to cower,
The predators they feel as the prey
8-29-07 (6:30am)
Jun 2011 · 2.5k
Relices of Violence
Joshua Gilton Jun 2011
In a dream
I feast on frozen fields.
With the campfire fiend at the tree line, a place to sleep in the dirt below the frost line
The brazen and the bold dive between the arrows of a coward’s bullet
Cold steel from a hot barrel, seeks warm flesh to make a statement.
Bones rattle in anger as they lay upon the ground.
Relics of Violence,
A mosaic street made of bullet casing and blood soaked bandages,
A rich tapestry,
But a haunting canvas.
Sounds of horror lose there meaning when children’s tears only water next years crop.
Jun 2011 · 1.3k
Shattered
Joshua Gilton Jun 2011
Awake in a shattered window
Glass pain made of the Plain of Existence
Broken pieces of our lives upon the ground
Blissfully unaware of what has befallen
Shattered conception……
Complete with cutting sharp edges of reality
When you try to fix the pieces
When you try to pick them up
It cuts you,
Bleeds you,
Drains you,
When they fall, let them stay
Walk softly with a tender foot
Proudly with a callused heal
Craft a new glass with fingertips
Break the old with a closed fist

— The End —