The hungry,
the sick
&
tired.
The lost,
battered,
beaten,
&
starved.

The streets sweat themselves clean
again & again
until
there is no
place
for a heart.

The forgotten - to be.
I see
them.
Everywhere.
Their faces
pass me
like an airliner
to a
bus.

Something grand will be crashing
and dwindlng in size
learning how
to live
with different sets
of eyes.

Staying up on nights that dont matter.

Listening to music that holds a key to forgotten locks

She breathes like an old flame.

Sings like the greatest of godesses.

I knew her then..

She had some temple to watch over,

be it in herself

or her lovers after me.

The road pulled her feet

not the other way around.

My one wish was that you’d someday

want me.

While I keep my soul somewhat untethered

and blowing in the wind..

I keep it on a first name basis

with you only.

But the reality is

is that

you get to become a movie

a poster encased in bright lights

- An overpaid actor who doesn’t

understand

the dialogue quite right.

You get to become

my favorite movie..

The one I never watch

again.

The one I memorize every

stupid

line

Just to make sure I

fall asleep before I feel

a thing.

My coursework printed self.
daily
wonderings
of things I don't really understand
but would like
to.
I never understood you.
Maybe that's
why
things escape me so.

You have your tangeant soul
and i've nowhere to go.
You and beautiful
(hand in hand)
the same thing to me.
This places a curse in my eyes
for every other dear in my headlight.
So i've found confidence in nothin'
to display myself for
all ears / all minds
yeah, i really
don't
mind.
but neither does anyone i've come across.

There are some
who
rejoice in the respect
of each others
emotions,
they
sip their drinks
&
they leave
early
sometimes.




There are some
who
die in the grace
of one another;
on a wednesday evening,
with
no fancy
speech,
no extra
jeweled up skin.
Just a bottle of gin
& the need
to empty
their
souls.


& there are
some


Who for
whatever reason
choose to stay
alone
.
They've cast
themselves
a long ways
from home
maybe they've
sunk
or
simply
let go
Maybe they
want to try
for a bit,
alone.

Today the ghosts in our lives aren't some old
forgotten spirit.
They are the lovers &
con-men
that we meet.
They are the people that once said
something
that made sense
&
you never got to
properly
thank them.
Another endless
explanation of
how
this
goes.

Today I sat forever in a coma,
locked away behind my thoughts.
I thought i'd lend my obvious arm strength,
I thought i'd lend my bleeding heart.

You were allowed to run around -
'my mother never spoke of luck.'
He tied his soul to old apartments.
This poem is ruined because i'm drunk.

Some things make you want to die.
Some things make you want to never go outside.
Tell tall tales of old times
Selling signs of the good life.

Creep inside the old mind
trap yourself in a contest of road signs.
Be the last one to find the real reason
that we all decide to be quiet.

Covered in frost from a storm too shy; Bits of you meet my eye

Telling truths from the gut, into the blender of the soul.

It’s just me here now and i’ve got nowhere to go.

All these doctors, all these people

never imagining ends by any means

although I prefer it when it rains,

you make the storm last all week.

Only fools allow puppeteers to negotiate their homes

from their beliefs to their thrones - you are the master of your own.

All a poisonous gas created from and by each other.

It’s a wonder we’re still here

blissfully blinded as the mother.

I am only shame without a number,
no parlour to your tricks & greed.
I hold within something that slumbers
and when i'm awake it tortures me.
This feast of heathenestic ideals
no room for sense unless it bleeds.
I am the fear of no tomorrow
and of no sleep until next week.
A place for counting all the numbers
add them up to feed the sheep.
Maybe Jim will go home early
or maybe Jak will sleep alone
Maybe all the things we think we know
we really,
truly
don't.

This digital screen, these provisioned dreams for our collective conscious
What a glorified team, this planet
it's rulers
All painted and standing in blood coated sand
from conquests;
Met with unforgetting eyes
they birth wolves that howl in the day
only to speak their own name
as the world
and no one else

Cherish me
my hidden pride
I know you're there
beyond my self concerning sorry soul
and beyond my self control
as I was born
in front of this digital screen
as some dream of
myself
for myself
of myself
and unto thyself

Well,
it's time to cut that out

Some space in which I once resided - Some memory that overrides the rest
A lack of faith in myself at best - Some story that I couldn't finish
Allowed to prosper - Allowed to wake
& within my soul, something quivers & shakes.
Some friends I no longer have
Some diamond in the wind
left me hangin' by a feather
wishin' all of this had been.
wishin' all of this had been.
Alone and lost inside my head
wishin' all of this had been
different.

Can't count on diamonds to show

themselves-

Can't count on the ancient ways,

& you can't count

on it

to be raining when

you really need it.

You can't count on everyone to

stay.



You can't count on Christmas forever.

You can't count the hundreds

of

lights.



Similar

in which

I imagine you

&

I know

that maybe

you're right.



I count too much

I'm covered in rust.

But,

all apart from

fading to dust-



this

must

be

the next big thing.

This must be falling in lust.

I’d send out an s.o.s.

with no reply.

I’d endeavor the moons of my mind

between lunch and dinner-time.

I’d sail between forests of orange and green

just to hike back and see if I’d still believe.

Oh, hollow tunnels through the mountain of my heart.

bring me back to the winds that tore us apart.

Show me selfish sin and i’ll give you the rain

for lack of better man, i’d give you my name.

When you get older..
When you
get out
of
your twenties.
Your start to keep your hair closer to your skull
If you're me.
You start keeping your words closer to
your heart
in fear of
vanity.
You start keeping your self
closed a little bit
up.
in fear of fear itself.
When you feel old.
When you
grow in
to yourself
&
your love.
You start to keep your
sanity
closer
to
your
skull.

My father is a hypocrite, my mother was a saint.

My brother has his own life now

Myself? I need a drink.

My fathers father died a drunk

his wife buried with a bottle of wine.

My mothers mother died too soon

& now i’m worried about mine.

My aunts & uncles have their share

of wealth & poverty.

The wrong ones live while the good ones die

& I wonder how that can be.

My father became what his money attained

My mother let him go.

18 years of untrue love

with nothing left to show.

A son who couldn't stop lying

just to prove himself.

The other, simply trying

to make the best of Hell.

I've driven past occasion on the date of
my realization;
A loners state of walk-in fast food joints
just to sit & eat alone

Unlucky aged elders
tell you what to do
& how to live
while their bank statements hold on
for dear life
like it's nothing to be concerned about
just as long as we follow
the
rules.

Helpless identifying self;
spreads worth like carbon
to an unviewing populace
of buttered up *****
selfish & corrupt

Helpless,
don't think you are.
You do something with your voice
& you let them know
just what
you mean when you say
anything at all.

I ache as my ligaments ponder their course through the air
& the frozen little notions of when I used to care.
Any amount of volume given to the correct note & sound
would remind me of you
just the way you were found - When my eyes had set forth from being young
dumb & in love
we'd set the summer in sun
& across the street was November - How things do change
How things do change..

You say it’s funny that I couldn’t come through like I said

You said, “Yeah, you’re in luck, you’re just like the rest.”

Playin’ schoolboy loves schoolgirl,

but with a broken heart on the mend.

My stain on your staircase is forgotten at best.

Like that outdated invitation,

to your Halloween party.

Or the streets we used to walk,

and I’d constantly worry-

that you’d find somebody else, between then and now.

I guess I was right, and I guess things work themselves out

But for the most part, I feel like

I helped push you away.

I guess most of the time, I get the feeling

this is how things will stay.

I'd lost my way with words for a bit
to ever think i'd live with it
the fleeing summer
& love's final dream
It tears my soul
it rips and screams.
I don't know much of
what I think
but I know
I know
it helps to drink.

I never thought
i'd lie awake
to see the dawn
of an honest day
& the things you made
captured me so;
I could only find myself
in a portrait hung low
for no one to see.
So stay with me once
I promise you so
that any day now we'll go
to a place filled with snow
and a garden hidden well
but we know it to be there
in spring we'll find it sprung
in the earth everywhere.

Have I been compelled to tell you nothing?
Is such a word spoken that I leave here without..
Knowing whether or not you still care for I,
for I am alone in this thought,
or so
it seems.
Where are all my dreams and
the things you said I had?
-Where is my soul & where is my love?
Am I so void,
like some
un-blessed robotic voice.
Am I so obsolete?
Am I..
Am I in this alone?

Somehow, beauty
transpires the spine
leaving vertebrae singing in perfect
little lines
of intersecting joy
& order.

It's a mess
but to confess; I will
hold it to you & say
that babe;
"You didn't really wanna stay anyways."
so love of mine, go trip down those memory lanes.
I'll be lookin' as they wane;
Disappear and erase.

Pajama pants

milk in glass

watching clocks that don’t move fast

enough.

Leftovers

&

the same.

Microwave myself away

past the unsettling thoughts

into the very daunting forefront.

May I never sing like an angel again

For you, and no one else that cares

for more than a drink and a meaningful stare.

Simple patterns place the tune
into a new earshot of space every afternoon.
Withering and twisting it all looks the same
but it feels different on the inside
it knows its own name. The key and the flats
The vicious cycle of white, black
or both.
Some technicolor grey.

You've got to really accept it
that the heart knows what to do
if you don't, the pressure changes
and the your life ends far too soon.
Time will hit you like a brick
being thrown from
a hurricane
& in time, those of us who know our name
will still be somewhat sane.

I couldn't promise the plan
I couldn't promise anything.
But I could feel the way you felt
when you knew I was taking on everything.
Maybe you waited to watch as I tripped on
myself.
Stummbling through a violent storm of mind
My own Hell.

and
at that moment
there was a reason the fan was spinning
left to right
another instance of
highway driving
night time
no one in sight
front of you
behind you
cruise at
about
78.

my peaceful night.

Two hammers clashed to become something golden
I'd grow up feelin' old and I never told you.
I would say petty things and never forget them
& drink around fire like something was missin'

Apart from the steed that carries us 'round
we remember our legs are as good as the ground.
Nothin' short of the sea; Stretched out honestly
to a coastline gone missing;
Just like you & me.

Within my life, love has always gone away to die.

Whether it be between my Grandparents on my fathers side

or

the collapse of a middle class family in denial.

My mother, the saint

My father, the preoccupied.

I spent my whole life just watching them try.

I watched my extended family start to run dry

between every visitation & cancer

&

every divorce without answers.

The simplest thing I could do was sit by

& learn from the mistakes / the taking without giving.

The heartaches for no sake.

But still to come in my life is the difference I hope for.

The truth that I wish upon a ring to embody something more.

It could represent all that i’ve seen to forget.

& bring two stories together -

Neither in shame nor regret.

Nights filled with smoke
endless hours
spent
tidying up; leftover notes
on the bedroom floor
there is
something more
than a half-minded thought,
i'd forgotten you..
the ways you haunt.
You flaunt it; your love
The boundries we've become.
Our words will always echo
but never
leave our tongue.

I never had too much of anything
always a giver
gave my heart away

I never thought too ******* the future
always the past
that comes back
to stay

Every place that I go
is connected to no golden
road
no special meaning
just some cold wet
snow
& the kids coming home
for a week
or
so

Nineteen and alone
Surely it shows
Nineteen on the road
-Wherever it goes
Nineteen and alone

For now;

When the time for talk is past
statues of gold will realign their
stature,
their common focal point-
The place where
eye met eye
and I met you.
Sure, that place is long gone,
swallowed by the sea.
Sure, it's defeat,
yeah it's a symptom of the war
whether 'lone or groups between a storm.

All depressing tidings have washed away,
all seasonal blessings fade.
All apart came the threads of mind
All apart,
All in line.
You'll find me somewhere lost in mine.

What is it so that

shakes me?

Does no sleep invoke

such haste things?

& how is it

your eyes can wake me?

Maybe

somethin’ about them take me.

Something beautifully intelligent

&

kind.

Something,

in your eyes.

Dream of
a ****** thing;
The reason the wandering sing
The way in which a new year springs

Laugh at
any old scarecrow
too much time to take for granted
too many funerals to remind us in
due time

I sat outside of myself
I never really went back inside
I just kept walking.
Still am.

She passes by like wind I can't see
& i'm falling in love with every thought to be
like a cold winter snow in the middle of the room
or a step too far that had you landing on the moon.

Engrossed in context; May it never be sorted out
The lies and the truth will always accompany doubt
No wandering time bomb leaves gold in its wake
only silver or bronze to keep us running late for first place.

I pass her by like I don't feel a thing
& i'm falling in love with every dream that she sings
like a warm summers night on the outskirts of town
or a car that broke down without making a sound.

In haunted places

something lingers of former lives

sounds played but not recorded

but by nature & her guise,

& the stone in the floor.

The seasons that leave & come back;

something short of an anxiety attack-

-in nature.

The immortality of it all contained in

energy & vibe.

Postmortem spies. (Ghosts.)

Many strategically timed divisions of
bird and sky
and tourist trap
;
bad weather

If there are any leftover emotions
i'd be the first to let myself show it.

What I tried to say didn't ever make up the difference.

Pretended to live for myself-
how can you plan
on something to happen
if your hand is shaking all the time?

Tell me how many
years
are really
left.
For a bit of constant change -
- it's funny,
something
constant
can come in bits.

They say
that the old red thread connected
by the soul
of two lovers to be
cannot be broken, only
twisted,
never severed; as it would seem.
But please,
tell me.
If only it would allow us to see
just where that red thread leads

where has my heart gone to be
&
Will it ever come back to me?

Such the night,
The clouds and a 'lone tower;
in hindsight;
a moon and spring flower.
to begin with,
it was too beautiful
for
some spectre
not to
come crashing down upon
us.
& the days that would
let loose
and carry mud
to all the walls,
they'd remind us.
they'd remind us.

Timing takes away from us
the gold medals of our youth.
From plastic souvenirs that break
to
timeless records without use.
No overstylistic amalgam-
-just black or white to choose.
A safety blanket or mid-life crisis-
what's left of us to lose?

With imagined money
&
imaginary love
what good is "good"
for bargained luck?

- I spoke of dreams I could not see,
could not feel, nor breathe, nor touch.

- I used to feel what I may be,
now I wait around and rust.

Little
by
little

Pain enters within
& from within; of course
of itself
&
for itself

This constant pain
should have been long gone
but still I wonder how
such a thing can remain

Maybe she was engraved within my very lungs
Maybe I was wrong; A fool in dumb love.
Maybe i've paid the attention too much
& forgotten how to advance through this world by myself
I look at everything as if it was Hell
Self-aware of my sight
compared
to the real
Self-aware never helps
the way that I feel.

Tough guys act themselves as such
Just a rough spot - Insecure with blush
just a cover up
Skinny guys like me
don't pretend
can't even begin to think how such a thing would be
acceptable
Skinny guys like me
wear the heart on the outside sleeve
all pricked with holes and slightly bleeding.

Maybe that makes me tougher than I thought
and my silence is to show that I haven't forgotten
who I am.

Partial laundry
lazy thought
the whites and the colors
it begins with the spots
and we sort it all out
combing crumbs from our hair
and as we slide into our own
we start to feel the pinch of our stares

Never-weather will always be
and evidently you're still
unhappy.
Something close inside of me
begs the question of eternity
but something closer still to see
shines too bright for such a speech.

No one wants your God and bread
No one needs your hand in hand.

The sorted and clean will find a way out;
a scapegoat and a martyr,
an election that doesn't count.
A breathless wonder standing taller than time
and in a few short seconds
&
a rev of the engine
Such a sight is simply lost
with no way to rewind.

It begins with the spots
and we sort it all out.
We fix things, we say
but we really tear them all down.

If I ever knew what to say
I'd of said it long ago
Just hopin' that
someday
you'll let your beauty really show
or didn't I know you?
Please say it's not so.
Oh,
didn't I know you?
It goes to show


that "somedays"
aren't always spent alone
and your favorite mondays
always ended in snow
when the bus took you home
when your father let you go
anywhere you wanted
but what do I
really
know?


Simple little thoughts never slept
just crept and crept
along the gate
- of my bad dream,
of this bedsheet
and I wept
like a sniveling child
with only a few thoughts to carry
on my back
through the dirt;
none of me
two of you
but somehow,
you know
-
i'm content with wishin'
on an empty old well
as long as my feet work
and my hands can stay still.

time places its test upon an atlas-like
shoulder
sound escapes
&
shapes the world.

theory proves only what we imagine
to be
the universal truths are still true, in that
everything we know
we see
& everything we are is
incomplete

sudden quakes of the short fused
heart
tear me down and pull me apart
then raise me back up
to the untitled locking of windows
& cars

they seal themselves away
little naysayers
looking for a place
too clean to be true
too shallow to acknowledge
that when all this is done we won't have a thing
& when i'm dead & gone
i'll still sing
i'll still sing
i'll still sing
i'll still sing

Suddenly
the world was just that
and
I knew too much
for
my own good

Space between a thought
the electrical signals that
become us
Do you ever stop one mid-cycle,
and say
"I will not."

It's a thing you would do.

I can't even imagine
to be a part of
your mind
these days

Suddenly,
the world
was
finally
quiet.

I don’t want to believe that I’ve wasted all your time.

Every set of lips that ever met mine

Every conversation past 3 am.

Contradicting vibes that color inside the lines.

I don’t want to know if you never really missed me,

Just wanna get through tonight without feeling tipsy.

Define a problem by the way that it lingers;

My problem is the way that my brain remembers.

How to go forward with so little truth?

Be it left lane

or

freight train.

Take me with you.

People say that

i’m fun

& i’m kind.

The kind of spirit they enjoy

I hear all the talks

friend vs friend

in different

housing

-they can’t

hear what each is saying

yet,

even after the badmouthing

the namedropping

the telephone calls still come in

clear as day

for them

but, people

say

that i’m fun

& i’m the kind of person

you can count on

when the sink stops working

or the cable goes

out.

but you don’t hear my phone

ringing.

Sometimes,
I repeat myself
and let things flow into the trash

& some days
I really am lost
on
what to say

I know
i've only learned
a penny on a planets worth
of will & words
but
some days
&
some things
just let you know
what your life needs to be
& to go searching very hard
isn't
always
the case.

My thoughts could be beautiful if not so skewed
untangible things in very lucrative views
unhappy me
meets
quite happy you
& the cycle continues as we make ourselves lose

The day could never do the job of the night
it would ***** all the time
about never getting things right
always lookin' in the dark
never findin' the right keys
to a door that's unlocked
but still won't open for me

If only the cat had a more noble speech
maybe then he,
could talk sense to me
and maybe
i'd listen
whole-heartedly
for once in my ******* life
i'd listen to the cat speak
and take what he means
about the good and the bad
or
the wise and the lost
and understand that he sees
what he wants to see
because he's a ******* cat
but
that's fine with me.

Every contender begins a beginner.

With wisps of gold passing through my essence

the dancers dance with no proper introduction; (unnecessary!)

For we see who they are

as they dance

in the shadows; with wolves

or in the light; rehearsed and uninspired.

Say what you will,

but

the wolves always sang more in key

and with more soul

to me.