Tick
Her eyes flash in my mind
Tock
Long hair flows in my memory
Tick
the laughter that lights up the sky echoes
Tock
My heart beats faster
Tick
Will I ever be able to love her?
Tock
Or am I just chasing mist?
Tick
She sings, and I melt
Tock
She speaks and I am weakened
Tick
Perfect lips curled into a playful grin
Tock
Emotion erupts from my soul
Tick
If only I had been faster
Tock
If only I had listened
Tick
If only I had been more decisive
Tock
Now I fear I've lost her

March in Minnesota
Still a solid four feet of snow
Two flipping inches of ice
On every flipping road

High school lunches
All the nutrients in the world!
For a six year old maybe
Or a terribly anorexic girl

Maybe I'm just looking in the wrong places
Maybe I'm looking for movement in stasis
Maybe I'm looking for life in ******
Maybe I'm looking for purity in the perverter
Maybe I'm looking for dust in the ashes
Maybe I'm looking for ice among matches
Maybe I'm looking for the truth in lies
Maybe I'm looking for hello among goodbyes
Maybe I just need to change my perspective
Maybe I just need to find a new prime directive
Maybe I just need to learn what it is to love
Maybe I just need to stare into the stars above
Maybe you are my release
Maybe you're my anchor
Maybe you'll help me find peace
Or help me find the maker

Spires of ice rise from the emerald sea
Pillars of stone reach out and scratch the slate sky
Black veins move life within her
Her black roots spread outwards
As tenticals in search of food

And within her
Life

A hundred thousand stories
Each one unique
Each one of the utmost importance
A hundred thousand people
With only one thing in common

They live to stay alive

They make art
They invent
They live
They die
They make a home in her

When I said wouldn't change for you
I didn't mean I'd stay the same for you
I'm changing 'cause I want to
I'm changing 'cause I've got to

The me I've been is no longer feasible
I realize now most people are seasonal

But it's not about other people
My priorities are wack
My motives are turning evil
And I need to turn them back

I ask you,
Please tell me,
If you know,
I have a question,

But the answer eludes me.

So you wonderful people of the internet,
(Oops, there goes the fourth wall...)
This question may not even have an answer.
Wouldn't that ****?

Ok, so the question.
To ponder of yourself.
Also, the only really poetic part of this work...
(Is critiquing your work in that work pretentious? I don't know. Anyway, back to the poetic crap. )

What world will will you find,
When you leave this world behind?
And what world will you leave behind,
When you run out of time?
What will children say of you?
What will your legacy be?
Did you use each day by day to do
Something worth memory?

I think I'm on my feet again
Can you feel it? Can you feel it?
Don't know how or why or when
Can you feel it? Can you feel it?
I think I'm on my feet again
Can you hear it? Can you hear it?
Tell me where do I begin
I can't hear it. I can't hear it.

What am I to do
Oh my fair skinned sister?
You are family to me
Yet I fear I may be forced
To bring the news
That I'll not be returning

I fear that if I do return
It will be on my shield
Not with it
As the Spartans used to say

Here I stand as Leonidas
Foolhardy and bold
I watch as I crumble
As my phalanx fold

So what am I to say
Oh my fair skinned sister?
How long will you mourn my absence?
Before you forget
And carry on?

What am I to think
Oh my dark haired sister?
What am I to feel?
You have been my guide

What am I to be
Oh my bright eyed comrade
My cheerful compatriot
My dearest friend?

Sing to me
Oh my fair skinned sister
Some sacred sonnet to save me
Play for me
Oh my fair skinned sister
Some long and lingering lyric
Some sweet melodic line
Some hypnotic harmony
To save me from my mind

Oh! The wicked webs we weave
When dire days demand dire deeds
As thicket thorned, and thoughtless thieves
When fire flairs and frost shall freeze

But stand ye strong, as solid stone
Thy noble name shall ever be known
Unbreakable bastion, ye bulwark broad
A formidable fortress needs not a facade

Only the dead have seen the end of war
Those that cross over to heavens eternal shore
Only the dead have seen the end of strife
And those that live on, live balanced on the knife

Only the dead can truly be at peace
In this world where the death will never cease
Only the dead can claim true victory
As death has brought an end to their story

Are not we all soldiers
In this war we wage with time?
Around us the whole Earth smolders
Yet we ever hold the line.

In the midst of heartbreak
I find no tragedy
I look to the future
And though I feel sympathy
In truth I am eager
For the beauty awaiting me

Every muscle in my body
Begs me to run
To chase your car
But then your taillights crest the hill
And disappear beyond

My mind lingers on you

Are you wearing your seatbelt?
Are you alert and emotionally sound?
After all
A distracted driver is just as dangerous
As a drunk driver

And no
I am not ok right now
Fear and feelings and Hydrocodone
Cloud my mind
Every time I watch you leave
Hurts more than the last

But this weekend was amazing
I had so much fun
Felt so loved
So safe

This weekend was not wasted
On painkillers and platitudes
This weekend was real
Tactile and truthful

My love is relentless
And I will pursue you
To the end of the earth.

This place
This perfect paradise
This sweet oasis
Squandered
These people
These beautiful, wonderful people
The family I found
Squandered
These times
These glorious times
The memories of gold
Squandered
Tears freeze on my wind chilled cheeks
As I walk the asphalt warpath
My mind is in the days now past
And haunting laughter reverberates
I failed you all
I failed myself
And now my paradise

Lost

Through turmoil and tragedy
I am at peace
I float in a cleansing sea of crystal
Fed by the River
Which flows from the Bema Seat
I am washed
Red
The color of life
The color of death to myself
And life
I am at peace

Led to believe
These things that could never be
These steps not taken
Chip and tug and pull at me
These words unspoken
These promises broken
Was love just a token?
Like a puppet
Pulled at by strings
In the hands of a master
I don't control the way I feel, think, believe!
I'm not my own master
I'm not my own man
I'm not my own
These things I feel
My chest full of
Longing
Such longing
And pain
And fear
And from these
The stress.
The stress.
The stress.
It weighs me down.
Shuts
Me
Down
I can't function with all of this anxiety
There's just too much
Too much happening
I can't handle it.
The pressure is building
I have no release
I have no release
I have no release
I have no peace
I have no peace
I have no peace
My life seems like a trap
Iron jaws close around me
I'm
      Just
             So
                  Empty
The things that brought me joy
The things that filled me up
The things that I loved
                                             Do nothing for me now
The connection I have felt with life
I feel no longer
I'm
       Just
               So
                    Empty.

Dost thou even go here?
Can thou even read?
Doth thou know the website thou art on?
Poetry be what we breed!

Ye foolish man!
Ye simpleton!
From whom unrefinement flows!
Thou shalt not write,
On a poetry site,
A work of ****** prose!

Oh yeah? Watch me.

Hello beautiful people. I'm in the mood to philosophize. And this being a poetry site, let's make the topic poetry. (WARNING: this piece will be filled with opinions, personal beliefs, and probably a little butter. If you don't agree with anything I say, good for you. Way to have opinions. AND WHATEVER YOU DO. DON'T SUBSTITUTE MARGARINE FOR THE BUTTER!) Ok, so poetry. I like poetry. And since I'm the one writing this, I'm gonna tell you about my philosophy, and my personal style and influences.
My philosophy that I try to live by is minimalism. Which is NOT laziness! Minimalism is quite difficult really. Anyone can write a nice fluffy poem (and yes, nice fluffy poems can be dark pieces about death and the like.) What minimalism is to me,  is the stripping away of all of that fluff to get down to the raw emotion of a piece. An abundance of words pollutes the emotion.
Now, my stylistic mumbo jumbo. My aesthetic has gone through a few phases. A lot of my work is very modernist. What that means is that it deals a lot with... well with failure. Failure of the human race, failure of people, and my own personal failure. But also with separation. Some prime examples of my modernist works are  "here I lay a martyr" and "of my faults and follies"
The next phase is when I started writing music for my band (Bisclaveret Marie, we're on Facebook. Check it out.) I became enamored with a man by the name of Jack White. (yes, that Jack White. The one formerly of the White Stripes.) Also the source of my minimalist approach, Jack revived my love for the Blues. When that came crashing into my poetry, it was definitely for the better.
The next phase was surrealism. The use of images and metaphors and weirdness to paint a picture of the emotion I choose to write about. (I don't really know how to describe this, just go read Though There Be Dragons, A Journey Through The Mind of a Madman. It'll make more sense.)
And most recently the Blues have seen a renaissance in my work. The simple lyric structures and rhyme patterns tickle my inner minimalist.
Yeah, so that's my spiel. If you actually read this, you freaking deserve a medal

Life has hit me
Hard
It hits
Fast
It hits
Quietly

And you can't hit back
You can't trade blows
It's like a brawl with a phantom
A duel with a ghost

So you just take the punches
And learn how to roll with them
That's just how it goes
When you're punching at smoke

Don't knock what you've never tried
Lock box with a heart inside
Six shots from a forty five
Punk rock makes you come alive

Black-hawks in the clear blue sky
It's ad hoc but you can just get by
On Poprocks and cyanide
Tick-tock time to decide

What made you think that you could take me down?
The method's flawed, but the strategies sound.
What made you try to hold me back?
I hope you're ready for the counter-attack.

Backhand and you feel the heat
Grandstand 'till you take a seat
Kickstand just to keep your feet
Firsthand watch you admit defeat

No delusions of grandeur
No misconceived notions
But there's a thing that beats in my chest
Like the winds against the ocean

I don't crave glory, fortune or fame
I don't even care if you remember my name

I want to be there
On a brightly lit stage
Me and my guitar
Making art
Turn the page

Not in it for the women
(I'm happily spoken for)
I don't do drugs
(They're stupid, and make you poor)
I don't want to get rich
(Money corrupts)
I just love rock
(Stand back. Watch me erupt)

It's all about the music
And what it does for you
I don't write for me
That's for other musicians to do
So if you ever hear me playing
And it stirs something in your heart
I'm doing something right
I'm just doing my part

Life is a lifelong
Balancing act
Time that's wasted
Never comes back
But hear my quandary
It's really quite queer
What happens when my job
Conflicts with my career?
What happens when my schooling
Disrupts my education?
When federal government policies
Keep me from graduation?
What happens when my GPA
Keeps me out of universities?
What happens when what I need to do
Conflicts with my responsibilities?

I know what keeps me here
I know how to play the game
I know what rules to break
I know what keeps us sane

But here we go again
Sewing evil seeds
Till the fields of sorrow
With all our ***** deeds

I know what I want from you
I know how to live
I know when I should turn and run
I know what I can't give

I know you.

As I lay here on my bed
My soul is falling
Down
Into a deep deep pit

No

Not falling
My soul IS the pit
And I fall into it
I am not drowning in my fear
Rather I see it as a marinade
Of gasoline and gunpowder
I dwell in it, soak it into my skin
And wait for the match to light

As I sit here
My arms and head are heavy
Though my eyes leave the ground
They always return swiftly
I no longer can look into your eyes
With confidence
I feel I have failed you
More than the rest
More than myself

I see you
And my whole being shakes with envy
My stomach is twisted with jealousy
All that I desire in life
You have
I find no solace in slumber
No respite in my dreams
Night after night
Week after week
I dream of my failures
I'm haunted by the ghosts of my shortcomings
And wounded by your spectre of success.

Every ounce of me wants to write for you
But I can't
Something will not let me.
So I sit awe struck
Dumb struck
Love struck
And search and search and search and search and search and searchandsearchandsearchandsearchandsearchandsearchandsearch
My brain in a desperate, wild hunt for words worthy of writing in your honor
Yet I fear the well is empty.
I fear that the grand fount of creativity has run dry.
That this is what comes of an attempt to write of you is proof enough to me.
Where have you gone, oh Muse?

Restructured
The fiber of my being
Reordered
The placement of my priorities
Reconsidered
The core of truths validity
Realigned
My moral compass and sense of duty
Rediscovered
The spark of my life and ingenuity
Recommited
                          Life

I'm not in control
This is no longer my story
May my hands do no work
Unless it brings You glory

I've turned over the reins
I let Jesus take the wheel
As the storm it swirls around me
I take my hands from the helm

This is my surrender Lord
Capitulation
Unconditional
Inexplicable

                          Real

I call her baby
she calls me my name
I don't let it phase me
'cause the meaning is the same

I know she can't treat my disease
but broken hearts will mend
This is our beginning
can the means justify the end?

And she said

Tell me
I'm not just another girl
Tell me
I'm not just a pretty face

And I said

Tell me, is it worth it?
To risk it on romance?
It offers no assurance,
No, all is left to chance.

I sit
Oh Lord in wonder
Within Your temple pine
And as I sit
In awe of it
I see Your great design

The slate grey clouds
Form arch and roof
The pillars
Rugged trees
The courtyard
Cobbled with grass
And leaves

I once met a man from Kalamazoo
Who bore on his arm an anchor tattoo
One day his lover
Ran off with his brother
Whatever was the poor man to do?

He sat down on a bus bound for Georgia
But somehow he wound up in Maine
And there he said "***** it."
He pretty well blew it
And got on a boat bound for Spain

When the captain was making his rounds
He saw the man grinding coffee grounds
And he saw the mans ink
And he stopped to think
"Is that man a part of the crew?"

That's when the captain's daughter came up
And asked the man if he could spare a cup
When the man met her eye
He nearly did die
For the beautiful woman he spied

He watched as she fell
He watched as he did what he had to
He watched as she hit the ground
He listened
There was no sound

He watched as their world split
He cringed at the spectacle
Unfolding before his eyes
He listened
There were no cries

He felt the shockwave
As her reality exploded
He marveled at the colors the wound
He listened
And then it boomed

Violent
                             Force
     Wreckage  
                                                   Shrapnel
            Fallout
                             Screams
Weeping
                                          Unrestrained
  ­                    Anguish
   Betrayal
                                    Hatred

But hold on child
This is not the end
This is just a pothole
On the Warpath of Love
So look to the Bittersweet Bystander
His hand extended now
Take the help he offers
You need it to continue

I searched beneath
The blood-splinter moon
For the man
Who knows my name
But I found him not
In the world about me

Look in

To the desperate broken corners
Of the soul

Look in

To the fears and demons caged
Or are they?

Look in

To the hidden regrets
The repressed memories
The guilty pleasures not forgotten

Look in

And when you find the man who
Sees this all
And still will know your name

There is only one

This is my crying out.
This is my final call.
This is my desperate shout.
Before I take the fall

This is my last hurrah.
This is my do-or-die.
This is the final straw.
This is our last good-bye.

I know what you're feeling
I've been there myself
I know what you're doing
But please don't shut me out
You say that you're done
You say you don't care
You're sick of everyone
And you feel so
Empty
Let me fill you
Let me be the one who pours
And though I'm confused
By why your anger came at me
I'm not about to leave you
So you're just stuck with me
I'm actually a little hurt
But I won't say that aloud
What happened to best friends?

I guess what I'm saying
Is that you can't face this alone
No.
You need support
You have friends
Let them
No.
Let US
Be therefor you

I find myself stuck.
Unsure if what I told you
Was a mistake.
Unsure if you really don't
Think less of me.
If you're just saying that so as not to upset me.
Oh well.
I can't change what I've done.

Love is an elusive beast
That can't be caught and caged
It makes its nest not in the tree
Nor in thicket, nor in cave

It makes its home in the heart
And dwells in it's lovely ways

But how can i find it?
Tell me where it hides
I seek this tender beast called love
That I may learn it's ways

I know that I had glimpsed it once
For a moment, nothing more
But now I must find this lovely creature
And live with it until I die

We cannot feel,
The heart grow old,
In the summer sun,
Or the winter cold,
We cannot hear,
The blowing wind,
When the devil calls,
From his cage within,

But you wear your scarlet letter,
On your sleeve like a badge of honor,
Tell your friends you're feeling better,
But your lies don't hold any water

Woke up this mornin'
With a case of the chills
Mama was snorin'
Daddy was takin' his pills

I called the old man in
Said I ain't feeling too well
He said just try stan'in
And down to the floor I fell

I got those
I got those Stayathome Blues

Confined to my bed
But that's ok
I don't really wanna get up
And move anyway

So I lay here in my blankets
A cold pack on my head
With a big ol' box o' Kleenex
Sittin' empty by my bed

I got those
I got those achy breaky ickly sickly Stayathome Blues

In morning light so radiant
As spears cast from the Sun
As glimmering shafts of daybreak fall
The blanket fog of cool of night
Is pierced and soon is gone

May my love to you be Sun
And my words be to you light
And may they pierce your shadow shroud
And bring your soul to life

The body is weary
The spirit is drained
Lord sustain me
Set my heart aflame
Guide my hands
In every act I do
Let me work
As though I work for you
Lift my thoughts
To dwell on higher things
And let the words of my mouth
Be like the song the sparrow sings
Lord the mind is willing
But the body
Is
Weak

Let me into your head
Let your thoughts wash over me
Like waves
Let me live on, for eternity
Share with me
Your ways

Take me beyond the iris
Past the pupil's supermassive black hole
Let me soar behind your beautiful eyes
The doorways to your soul

Let me touch your imagination
Let me feel the creative burst
Let me wrestle your fears
Let me sail through your tears
Let me live here, in your mind, immersed

Stand with me now in my wonder
In this place you alone understand
Though far off I do hear the thunder
Let me stay, let this be our wonderland

Is

I watch through windows of stained glass
As Venus dances
In awe at the beauty just beyond the pane
How long will I be able to live behind the pain?
For Venus?
Forever.

I was not prepared for this
My position so flawed
Fatally overlooked
I was not prepared for this

My broad bravado
Now enfeebled
By harsh realization

My situation is untenable
The force against me
Is greater than  anticipated

I am called Tiberius
I have sold my foe short
I have little doubt
Of that which brings me down

I came here sure of success
I came to make war
To conquer all that is against me

Yet

My head hangs low with defeat
My spirit is weak
My morale in shambles
I am broken

My arms
Once readied for battle
Hang limp at my sides
My hands
Once armed for war
Now empty and weak
I am broken

My eyes
Once alive with passion
No longer leave the ground

The battle is lost on all fronts
I am surrounded by defeat
I watch as the line crumbles
No match
For the force brought against it
I am broken

I hate mornings
Said the boy to himself
And then he rolled over
And fell from his shelf

Let's see...
Ooh! No...
What about...?
Nah...
Maybe if I....
Nope...
I could probably...
Ew.
Hmmm...
Ah ha!
Frick...
Let's try...
Never again.
For the love of!

I will watch until the candles fade
As you stand and stare into the skies of gray
And I will dance until the lights come down
Until the kingdoms fall like water on the ground

I will watch forever pass away
Pass away
I will stand and watch them until they fade
Until they fade

I am weary
From early morning
And night so long
I am weary

I am weary
In
Body
And
Mind
And
Soul

Won't you give me strength?

What's a man to do?
When he takes no pride in the work of his hands.
When the things he creates are a pungent, noxious fume.
What's a man to do?

When all falls into shadow
And fire burns the sky
When smoke and blood
Stain sky and stream
Still I will be at your side

When war comes crashing on the door
And battle scars the land
When fear and death march from their gate
They will march upon us
Hand in hand

When monsters bellow from the depths
When all seems lost to fear
Should armies surround and besiege
When the sun goes black with arrows
I will hold you ever near

I remember days
When I was inspired
By the beauty of a rose
Or the agony of heartache
But now my muse is stagnant
I hear no sweet sweet songs
I hear no soul rending cry

No breeze caresses my face here
No harsh wind blows against me
The air moves as a man in a cell
A slow, putrid circle of apathy

No great loneliness afflicts me
No great host accompanies me
Yet no sense of community is upon me
I have no connection between souls
Yet here I am
Yet I am here