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freds-not-deadPoems
Opens with some lucidity after the world has gone limp                            like marionettes slides up to a good posture and the everything rises                             and blooms All is well-enough Not to do any-thing Sit back a relax People crave the expected, Give em' the song and dance act: Unseal her, let the air out Pretend her hair is different Let the left-over shape mean something Make it the secret of Life Cue the yellow hue live your memories in a fuzzy lens Slow the images, it's raining sunshine Demi-god celebrities play your part you're the star be able to keep your heart                                                  in one place                                                           lock it up Take a pause. . . . . . Hit the spotlight, change the focus, transfer the weight                 shift                       the                             burden Wide     eyed     shot dark shadows back alleys open veins american pulp love with an insanity twist Make the events your life dislocate the easiness                      Cut to the bed                                 torn to shreds Blood slow on the back, warm wine on the wrist all reddened by friction Drop           Strange the angle change dunce cap and a corner prayer                         the catharsis framework Go back to the clear cut beginning-end                crawl through the webbed nothingness                             the vapor of conversation                                   reality pushed upon                                                    the drooling stranger through the bedroom window               eyes like a bone-saw, artificial Pity him Become him Time has been extended over the back-lit stage          a lucky break waking up with an adrenaline needle in your chest          a resuscitation                  Take the life from the shelf               Contradict yourself, very well, Contradict yourself     Make the impossible concrete, the unreal cities grow like roses               Cut to Black rip a hole for light, you're gonna need it                      Role the credits, see the forgotten names which mean forgotten faces you've hung on sit in the dark clap to yourself         to this far away distraction you're the hero and you've made it make sense in the rearrangement                               of                                                blood                                                love                                        and voyeurism
0
Apr 6, 2011
Apr 6, 2011 at 8:25 AM UTC
The Film Over the Eye
Opens with some lucidity after the world has gone limp                            like marionettes slides up to a good posture and the everything rises                             and blooms All is well-enough Not to do any-thing Sit back a relax People crave the expected, Give em' the song and dance act: Unseal her, let the air out Pretend her hair is different Let the left-over shape mean something Make it the secret of Life Cue the yellow hue live your memories in a fuzzy lens Slow the images, it's raining sunshine Demi-god celebrities play your part you're the star be able to keep your heart                                                  in one place                                                           lock it up Take a pause. . . . . . Hit the spotlight, change the focus, transfer the weight                 shift                       the                             burden Wide     eyed     shot dark shadows back alleys open veins american pulp love with an insanity twist Make the events your life dislocate the easiness                      Cut to the bed                                 torn to shreds Blood slow on the back, warm wine on the wrist all reddened by friction Drop           Strange the angle change dunce cap and a corner prayer                         the catharsis framework Go back to the clear cut beginning-end                crawl through the webbed nothingness                             the vapor of conversation                                   reality pushed upon                                                    the drooling stranger through the bedroom window               eyes like a bone-saw, artificial Pity him Become him Time has been extended over the back-lit stage          a lucky break waking up with an adrenaline needle in your chest          a resuscitation                  Take the life from the shelf               Contradict yourself, very well, Contradict yourself     Make the impossible concrete, the unreal cities grow like roses               Cut to Black rip a hole for light, you're gonna need it                      Role the credits, see the forgotten names which mean forgotten faces you've hung on sit in the dark clap to yourself         to this far away distraction you're the hero and you've made it make sense in the rearrangement                               of                                                blood                                                love                                        and voyeurism
freds-not-dead
Written by
freds-not-dead
Canadian
Apr 6, 2011
Apr 6, 2011 at 8:25 AM UTC
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