Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Sal Gelles Nov 2013
Unspoken adoration
for strength I can't see in myself,
that I see in you everyday,
and it builds, stronger and stronger.
I know if I couldn't hold myself up
you'd be glad to pick me up
and take me home,
and wash me off; revitalize me.
I can't see how you feel so vulnerable
and misunderstood,
when I've been watching,
silently, as you struggle to see it yourself.

*And as I struggle to ever get your attention enough to really tell you how remarkable you are.
Cases of beer costing $50, cartons of cigarettes, half-gone half-gallons of bourbon, and silence is all I was hoping for lately.  The dreams over, and I'm left still dreaming that one day all the right words will come back to me.
Oct 2013 · 430
cancel that last order
Sal Gelles Oct 2013
I'm sure I don't need another drink tonight,
seeing as I've consumed my fairer share
of spirits, fermenting grains, and *****.
I just can't have another tonight and I dare
try and not spill it out the way it went down,
as it's finally settled in, and I feel it all now.
It's sinking in, and the intoxication's bound
to drown me in something more than sorrow.
In fact, I may have another, but probably again tomorrow,
same time, same place, as per usual.  You should know me by now.
Oct 2013 · 452
(blank)
Sal Gelles Oct 2013
blank,
expressionless,
still and iridescent,
yet, motionless,
seen, heard;
inaudible
explanations
out of principle

to spread something you can't quite scrape across your face enough to show emotion;
unable to find words to use properly to ever say
what it is that haunts your beautiful mind.
Sal Gelles Oct 2013
you're all gone
or dead
one of the two
maybe caught
in limbo.

it bothered me
for a while
but days passed
and i've found
it hasn't phased

*every emotional problem i'd had with your lingering somewhere in my head.
i just hope you're doing well in whatever it is you're doing anymore.
i don't want any calls, texts, or salutations.  i just want you to know now you're gone,
and that i was there the whole time you were leaving, trying to pull you back in.
Oct 2013 · 592
matchsticks
Sal Gelles Oct 2013
i feel the flame,
closer now, almost burnt,
and it lingers there;
between my fingers and the fuel,
waiting to cause some real damage.

a shudder at some burn
throws it all out; extinguished
in a second, all from a thought.
the task it was to be used for,
now completed.  cancer's a ***** to get

*and an even bigger ***** to leave.
Oct 2013 · 919
inno-
Sal Gelles Oct 2013
if you've got the interest
well then i've got the investment,
granted, it's only time
but that's enough, isn't it?

we place so much value in seconds
as minutes pass us by hourly,
but we never find value where it belongs;
throughout life it's moments,
for you it's momentary, but endless for the rest.

if you've got the right idea
i've got the right way to shape it,
as it's got to be something more,
something material and meaningful.

otherwise, they'll never see it
in the light it deserves,
darkened due to size, it's variance
cannot go unnoticed for too much longer;
we know where it should shine.
Sep 2013 · 545
immaculate perception
Sal Gelles Sep 2013
you're blind, for the most part
to everything i'd had to say;
you'd done it to yourself,
all this is just another way
to figure out what i'm meaning in every way.

however, you're not stupid,
so you must know a good bit,
about my life, my loves,
and about how i've never given a ****
about how anyone but me has felt some bit.

so why even repent for this;
i'm without sin, i cast the first stone.
you're lost, little girl,
but i promise you, you're not alone
in the world you've created as your own.
Sep 2013 · 604
mental disease
Sal Gelles Sep 2013
i can't tell you why
i turn every fear into some out of body experience.
i can't explain
the ways my paranoia have left me broken in so many ways.
i can't get across
to anyone that i'm fine.  i've always been this way; it comes with the imagination.
i don't understand
why i ever had to spend those three days stuck in that hospital because of my head.
i can't ever know
the truth behind why i'm not really afraid of the schizophrenia running rampant in my mother.
i can't believe*
that one day it might come down to the fact that that's what it is that's wrong with me.
there is a gun to my back
and it's not just my imagination.
Sep 2013 · 641
subsistence
Sal Gelles Sep 2013
pass on through
like the rest; ignorant
in their bliss, they're gods.
just like the rest,
inconsistent and incoherent;
they're blinded, though,
as their lives, cast and molded,
fall into place as planned.
i'm shaping mine,
from scratches as i'm scolded
for simplicity as a need;
the finer things just aren't for me.
it's unnatural, impractical,
and utterly insane.
so instead of having someplace to be,
i'd rather have some substance
*and possibly half-a-brain
Sep 2013 · 707
viceroy
Sal Gelles Sep 2013
i use reality as a get-away
in my drug induced haze,
my dreams die off
and i’m left missing days;
counting hours, misplaced;
startled back into consciousness,
so this pill should ease me back in
but it’s really superfluous. i guess
we all have our vices,
although, most excessive; like most of us
it’s just a shot in the dark that again,
i’ll see some light and i won’t squint

and for once

somewhere, somehow, sometime (maybe)
i can find true delight. sans ignorance.
Sep 2013 · 285
kill 'em all
Sal Gelles Sep 2013
bleed me a little taste
out of your eyes
into your mind
and through the skin
so i can imagine what you really are

give me a little idea
of your life
throughout the years
where you've been
so i can draw up my own timeline

and give you a better feeling,
some security as to who i am

so i can give you a reason
to say you know me.
**** this, i quit -my favorite thing to say in any instance
Aug 2013 · 1.4k
passive manipulation
Sal Gelles Aug 2013
unwarranted threatening,
irrational processes of elimination,
and purposeless annihilation
of every last ******* morsel;
every last ******* bit and piece
you ever had to say
stings as it hits me
through the skeleton.  
you're a skeleton too, i hope you know.
Aug 2013 · 438
Untitled
Sal Gelles Aug 2013
it sickens me;
the lack of correction
in grammar,
in punctuation,
in style,
and in titling.

it disgusts me;
the apathy
and support
that go along with
spilling any idea
out; vulnerability
shouldn't be praised,
as it should be sculpted
and shaped, communally.
a sociopath's political piece
Aug 2013 · 600
forget my motives
Sal Gelles Aug 2013
when asked what i ever mean,
i can never answer honestly;
honestly, i have no idea myself,
but then again, who does?

to mean anything seems redundant;
purpose is given without hesitation
to everything we create, we are.
we're creating our own meanings,

*driven mad by our own motives.
Sal Gelles Aug 2013
should she ever listen,
the cosmos would play her a song
of stars dust moving along.
if she ever heard it,
the sun would hum her to her soon,
and the asteroids would pick up the tune.
had she ever caught it,
it would be sure to blow her mind;
the way things move out there in time
would catch her in key
and sway her with its beautiful melody.
~i'd chisel my proposal in the moon~
~and hope you'd look up one night~
~to catch my love, the shooting star~
~before it ever could get out of sight~
Aug 2013 · 1.1k
gas
Sal Gelles Aug 2013
gas
gas in the motorhome
just about ready to roam
where ever the catalogue says
and we fly around all the bends
                                                      heading to some sanctity
                                                       while the craziness takes over for a while.

comfort the pedal
as we meddle
with the ideas of prosperity
in another definition of integrity
                                                      *lost souls searching
                                                      for another reason to not drive us all off the road
Aug 2013 · 813
the last of my brandy
Sal Gelles Aug 2013
each sip, succulent, powerful,
until the finishing drops,
lingering, taunting, provocative,
all make their way to my mind.

each hit off this cigarette,
burning deeply, cancer-ridden,
deliciously curves my appetite
to the skew i've taken against myself:

    inhumane in the disdain for myself, my existential ideals push themselves through me.

every blink, second
brings about refreshening,
uplifting, unrelenting, and deathly
eye-opening thought processes.

the last time i tried,
passively, obsessively, partially
only half-heartedly, i was found
stuck with half of my heart gone.

    *i'd hate anything hateful you'd ever have to throw at me, but i'm willing to listen.
Aug 2013 · 849
conception
Sal Gelles Aug 2013
undeniably vast and gracious
the life ahead is better than that behind;
filled with moments of variety,
various times make various memories.
we're left with the best to remind us of the worst.
Jul 2013 · 621
my theory on strings
Sal Gelles Jul 2013
Can you move your limbs separately?
Are they pulled by some invisible string?
Do you own your own voice?
Or is it somebody else using it
every chance they can to just sing?

Have you ever felt truly freed?
Were you ever able to think on your own?
Are you the one working every digit,
every finger, every push, and pull
to that person you’ve been trying to phone?

What will you say finally,
Once they pick up on the other end?
Is there any specific reason you’ve called?
Or were you just bored, tired,
and looking for somebody you’d believe was a friend?

Are you free?
Have you freed yourself?
How did you do it?
I’ve tried for years and can’t find the scissors
To cut the strings I’ve tied to myself.
Jul 2013 · 823
let me paraphrase
Sal Gelles Jul 2013
the whole idea
that you'd had
in three lines
or less
is much less
than a whole
thought.

so don't waste my time
don't waste my space
don't waste my life
waste your own
in lesser thought
and in lesser
idealism
than what's real poetry.

i've never thought
i'd read more ****
posted about some idea
than what i've read
on here
in there
just to pump some ******
deeper into my veins
to calm my nerves
and calm this pain.
******* over-analyzed thought patterns and less-thought out ideas.
i've had enough of this *******.  i've read better **** on bathroom toilet bowls.
Jul 2013 · 1.2k
to sleep with pocahontas...
Sal Gelles Jul 2013
it's been eating away at me for days
and days and days on end
until it's come down to this,
and it's made its way to spend
                                            time.
burning through my head in seconds,
in minutes, hours, and in space
i feel i could've used more wisely
than the space left for me to face
                where to put my books.


                                                             everything has its place,
                                                          and everything has a home.
                                                       everything lives, dies, is reborn,
                                                        so how're we ever truly alone?
Sal Gelles Jul 2013
there's more.
there has to be.
i want more,
but i don't see
why you talk
about life
and the walk,
the knife,
and the key
to really begin seeing.
seems freeing.
shackles and chains.  CLINK CLANK CLING.  shackles and chains.
Jul 2013 · 503
hole
Sal Gelles Jul 2013
the hole
in your filter
let's you speak freely;
ambiguously slandering,
cursing, and hurting
every person
you know.

the hole
in our friendship
isn't going to get smaller;
it widens as you speak more
and more of the disgust
and anguish
i had to go
through.

the hole
in your guitar
is a sure place for my foot;
its destiny's been written again,
and broken,
it shall ring the tunes
i'd tried to get
you into
before
it
all
fell
through
all
the
holes
in
our
friendshit
Jul 2013 · 3.1k
interpersonal
Sal Gelles Jul 2013
extroversion and furtherment
of inner realism.
left to drum
right on the funk
flowing, growing
in supplies
and in the eyes;
straight
to the soul
and back up the brain
for interpretation;
annihilation
of any idea
left overlooked,
and now hooked
on something else -
internal shift
in perception,
through productivity,
and out of longevity
this shall rise.
Jul 2013 · 473
Resonance
Sal Gelles Jul 2013
some other "yeah whatever"
and  the morning's on
another sound forming
in hopeless retribution
for a simple solution
to just any drag you find
Sal Gelles Jul 2013
outside ourselves:**

in the few, brief moments,
staying inside the outer edge
of this webbing we've woven
for the the sake of this game
that's created in itself.

for the spider,
as he calms the tension
across his line
as the wind blows,
swaying him sideways.
driven practically by survival
hopeless in a world made by others
he's getting caught-up in his own web;
he's never seen,
but not seeing through just his lenses
that cover the top of his head.

over, calmed now,
the tension's applied tenderly.
the treacherous passing of past
passer-bys past his masterwork,
the unluck ones
only eaten, digested,
and then forgotten.
horrifically in complete sync
with the idealism
that had dulled
every subjective idea he'd had,
the spider found what he'd needed;
some calming peace and serenity.
From the 'Memory Books:'  "Vol. 4, Speculation on this Perspective (and possible prospects)"
Jul 2013 · 509
waaaavvvvvveesssssss
Sal Gelles Jul 2013
the waves coursing through the air;

they'd always been felt,
always existent; known.

the waves flowing through space
had finally shown themselves;

seen now, felt now, coursing
further and further through
to my spirit.

it'd been the first time for them in disambiguation.
it'd been the first time so much had come to a realization.


it'd been the first time
i'd ever felt everything so true,
so real; impartial to others' ideas
and finally at peace with the waves.
i watched them move through the dark
i watched them create the light
i watched them make movement
progression again.
Jun 2013 · 2.0k
assimilation
Sal Gelles Jun 2013
feed yourself the beautiful dream
one brain wave at a time
so as not to choke on its entirety
or have to suffer anymore.

the entire vibrato you've used
is getting you nowhere, you see.
but soon, you'll be able
to say you're not on the streets to score
another fix
another mix
of chemical endurance
and obliteration


step on up, and read the sign
there's nothing left here
just as it was when your father walked
from one end to the other, feverishly.

we're dying out left and right,
but you're sure to make it,
i swear it, i've seen it,
and i'll make it all a reality
*based on dreaming
shaped from cleaning
of the mind
and its impurities.
Jun 2013 · 356
I know.
Sal Gelles Jun 2013
In a transient state
trance covers my eyes
and I fade off to the distance
where I stare for hours on end
as I'm searching for just one idea
to pull myself out of this meditation
and put myself back to working
on the idea that we're working
on something far, far greater
than just another space here
and we're heading
toward great
things.
Jun 2013 · 616
Locura Redundante
Sal Gelles Jun 2013
flown to some far off land
dropped and forgotten
silenced by seclusion
and now announcing:
               "i'm not going to be stuck here forever, you all just wait and see!"
ironic and symbolic,
you're stuck, son
but you'll find out
how to get out of here

               "i swear that's not my conscience, nor my sub conscience working right now."
you're boiling over
and you need to just simmer
here, in the summer
where you make your last stand

               "this has to be madness, some form of incompetence of the gravity of my situation."
*no, you're fine,
you're just getting lost again
inside of me, yourself
and that mess you carry around
as the mind that once was mine.
Death of the ego.
Jun 2013 · 469
Untitled
Sal Gelles Jun 2013
what's all the insanity for?
are you worried?
are you peeved?
are you paranoid?
that i'll find a little more?

is there something else?
is there enough at all?
is there some secret?
is there another one?
is there nothing that can help?

where's the sensation?
where's the intuition?
where's the humiliation?
where's the desolation?
where's the heartbreak i'm awaiting;
it's lingering closer to my ear than death.
Jun 2013 · 1.0k
one out of the catalogue
Sal Gelles Jun 2013
When you're roaming down that old dirt road of ambition,
remember all that ambition you're leaving there in the dirt.
While that road carries you down another hill towards some hiatus,
that space where you'll think you feel safe with what you've got
left inside of you.

And as you pass the different paths you could've taken,
rather than turning off this old dirt road you've ambitiously wandered,
think of all the times you'd just had that one decision to make.
How, now, as you walk on past yet another, all those paths you eyed
and left behind you.

After you've thought about the time of this exploration of ambition
that you've nearly given all but up on, keeping that goal in mind,
just think about the chances you really have taken on your own happiness,
your own levity of your ambition, and those hoarse decisions you made
to get outside yourself.
Jun 2013 · 380
i'm sick
Sal Gelles Jun 2013
of your adolescent dissection
of your life, hardly lived,
hardly mountable, and hard.
that's the point,
*pass the test and die peacefully.
Sal Gelles Jun 2013
a poem to lou reed*
feeding the animals
everything they want
and never getting
that perfect day,
you left me hangin' on.

while the girls sang,
we found that vivacious
slightness you'd felt
as we began feeling that light,
they blinded us in your mirror.

now we're twisted
waiting for the shine
those boots of leather
to the transformation,
we can't say we're not forsaken.
Jun 2013 · 635
kick down the door
Sal Gelles Jun 2013
who am i anyway?
a man behind a name that isn't mine,
an idea behind a movement;
pushing time.
a heartless devil
cutting crime
that he sees every man doing to his neighbor.

what am i?
anyway there's an answer
in here, out there,
somewhere in adequate form.
waiting for its clairvoyance
and its shelter
to be shattered and broken like the man i see behind all that i am.
Jun 2013 · 500
the tide slips through
Sal Gelles Jun 2013
crashing
beating
faces worn
deteriorating
recurrent
similarity ever again.
"The cars hiss by my window,
like the waves down on the beach."  
--Jim Morrison
May 2013 · 365
invocation to the neutral
Sal Gelles May 2013
i remember the words
                                                you said to me when i thought i couldn't hear
                                                                                            that i'll never forget

                      but now, you're lost in something
                    that neither of us can really control
    and it's tearing the very fabric of who we were into pieces
                                                                                             so try to remember
                                                                   all the things you'd ever said to me
                                                     and how they have no meaning to you now
                                                                                      and soon
                                              how they'll hold no weight as you hold nothing
                                                 but the disgusting things you've taken pride in


nowhere's where this belongs.  and we're heading somewhere, so leave it behind.
calamity and salamis, death and denial, everything and an enunciation for the facts god's granted him.
May 2013 · 456
impossible
Sal Gelles May 2013
you're impossible
you're impractical
you make little sense;
always in offense
to whatever i say
about my day
like it was a personal attack
on something you knew; matter-of-factLY
there was nothing i hid
in what it was i did
when i told you the story
that made you worry
like i had something to hide.
instead of just letting it ride
i'd decided i'd take my chances
and ignore all the glances
to just let you know
that i love you so.
May 2013 · 292
this is going to be fun
Sal Gelles May 2013
another step in the right direction
headed into the hole i've dug
deeper and deeper, i'll dig
until i've reached the core
extremities in check
we're bleeding out quicker
but we're gaining momentum
in another way to get life
out of the death we're breeding
Sal Gelles May 2013
Videodrome
passing ideas
through media
through ideas
through art
through passing
every second
of every day
with an idea
that we're
not being
brought down
to the things
that they want
us to be.
Videodrome
Sal Gelles May 2013
it won't damage the mind
or the soul; they're infinite.
it won't hurt the heart
or the stomach; they're intact.
it won't hurt the idea
or the notion; they're entwined.
it won't hurt me
or you; we're too far apart
for that bullet raging through his brain,
cutting nothing but his flesh from his senses.
May 2013 · 590
what a striking resemblance
Sal Gelles May 2013
left here to fiddle with ideas
as they're passed around
like some bottle; emptied now
we sit and wonder what's left
to pass through our heads
as we pass time thinking.

thinking in lines and in reason
out of time and just right for the season,
we're lying through our teeth
as the man comes down from his seat
where he sat, watching our lives unravel
and resembles the great mystery
that we're all looking to answer.

there's not much left of good time
or of good placing for this all
so we sit and wait, watching,
crawling with some strange desire
to set everything ablaze; start this pyre
and send the whole idea to its god.
somewhere, it's watching.

alas, ideas begin springing forward
like a well dug deep in arid earth
to feed the dry landscapes and minds
and to figure out what anything's worth
in this twenty-first century run-down
idea of what an idea should sound like.

and we keep 'em coming back for more.
May 2013 · 375
the death of a generation
Sal Gelles May 2013
i've started the wake
and said my piece
now it's everyone else's turn
to come to peace
with the fact that we're a dying generation

indebted for life
to the systemization
that we've grown up in
as it's organization
comes to our lives full of frustration and grief

called to a calling
that's been rather loud
to make our lives something
in a way to be proud
of the life we've been given and what we've done with it

                                              living just to die
                                                         living just to live
                                                           ­     living in the wake
                                                           ­             of another generation
May 2013 · 1.4k
spring baptism
Sal Gelles May 2013
shirtless
raining
cold.

ambitious
amplified
cozy.

the rain felt so clear as it streaked down my back, and i felt so clairvoyant in that moment walking down the alley; waiting for the rain to really pick up, i walked slower

traditional
noted
calm.

personal
known
clear.
May 2013 · 368
all leads to the end
Sal Gelles May 2013
everything, at one point, is destroyed,
and chaos ensues.

as it all begins spinning, spiraling, and spitting out the imagery
of everything that it ever has been, is being, or began
we can see where this is all heading for all
although hardly any want to admit
that we're all heading down
to the similar idea
of what we
call the
*end
Sal Gelles May 2013
and burn down the whole ****** neighborhood
and **** all the ****** people living here
and destroy everything that rests along these ****** tracks
that have cut through the earth and have lead so many places.
i remember when i followed the ****** things
and found how the ****** way the railroad system works
and saw all the sights on the ****** way to my revelation
that we're all bound to some sad ending; ****** and meaningless.
Sal Gelles May 2013
freedom of movement
fighting for its rights
out in the air; fists flying
arms wailing
spinning around kicking
just for the sake of movement.
that one element
stuck out more in anything
as it occupied the space it needed
as the spaceman heeded
sang us songs; as the lights speed about.
birthed out of an era
torn by so much
artistically and musically;
livelihoods drastically
changing as considering creatively
that this was how
you would dance to david bowie.
Sal Gelles May 2013
i feed her my words
like you'd feed someone sick
the pills as their ailment

i feed her my love
like you'd feed a baby bird
its life frail and in lament

the mother's dead
the baby's chirping
the birds all say
that this is working

i feed her my ideas
like you'd feed a toddler
with spoon in hand; shakingly

i feed her my death
like you'd feed the poor
standing on corners, begging; incessantly

this is working
i believe it now
i see it working
but can't see how

i feed her life,
as you'd feed me.
i feed her knowledge,
and set her free.
Sal Gelles Apr 2013
i love the ways you don't call although you know how.
the lack of acknowledgement
of any struggle.

i love the ways you find disappointment in me
for being a cast from your mold;
thrown into the same fate.

i hate the way i love you
without a doubt in my mind
that it's not worth fighting.

i hate the ideas you've given me
that've helped me so much
through life.

but where are you now?
where was i when you needed to talk?
where were you when i needed a hand?
where are we heading?

continued ignorance
continued apathy
continued quality


all in the ways that i love you
and all in the ways that i hate you.
but most of all how i now deny you.
it's always going to be a love/hate relationship.
Apr 2013 · 600
asleep
Sal Gelles Apr 2013
hours of isolation in quiet company,
                                                       ­    though, they never seem to appear
                                       as much to your eyes
                                                            ­                 as they have to mine.
                                        *the humming of the television,

                                                    ­                                   dully lulling the visions in the mind
                                       into the shapes
                                                                ­         they're made for;
                                                          ­    searching synapses and relapses
                                                         for just another answer to the mystery
                                                         ­                                                                 ­    to what's going on,
                       here in my dreams.
                                                         ­     the company stays after i've left,
                                                           ­   as they find it comfortable there,
                                                          ­            stuck; subconsciously
                                                ­                     segregating themselves.
as if they were all asleep while i walked about for hours, awake.
Next page