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Shawn Mar 2013
though we try to escape
this unkempt world
with its busy streets,
yelling men on street corners,
random outbursts from the impoverished,
advertisements peddling
face creams and running shoes
and lotteries and fried foods,
the noise of it all,
what silence do we hope to escape to?

a beach with sunset?
i can hear the wind
against the trees, the splashing
of these waves before me,
the birds, they're calling their
night songs, i hear laughing in
the distance,

what of empty church?
i hear the echoing of my footsteps,
the creaking of aged wooden benches,
and if i concentrate,
i hear the gentle flicker
of that row of candles, the
***** rings of past hymns,

what of padded isolation cells?
panic rooms, artificial solitude?
cling to them like supermen
only for emergent use,
close your eyes,
let the black envelop you,
meditate, if you know how,
relax, beyond earthly possessions...

when that mind begins to wander,
as it does, it's mandatory,
hear that voice inside your head,
telling you to stay focused?

telling yourself to stay focused
only starts the spin of things:

and then you hear the beat
of drums, african tribal rhythms,
or phil collins at the start of
"in the air tonight"
or the strings, is that pachabel?
i hear the start of "the sound of silence"
as if my mind is mocking me,
i hear the voice of my mother,
there's my father,
they're beside me and it's christmas,
i hear nat king cole,
i hear the sound
of knife through turkey,
i hear laughter,
it's yours,
i hear the sound of my
fingers as they run along your skin
and get tangled in your hair,
i hear a heartbeat,
direct through chest, then through
bell of stethoscope, i hear
the rocko's modern life theme song,
i hear thunder, i hear rain,
i hear the splashing of my shoes,
i hear the gravel, i hear cars,
i hear the city, the random beeping
indicating when to cross,
the sound of garbage being thrown out,
of doors opening, slamming,
metal against metal,
i hear applause,
after successful landing,
i hear recycled air above me,
i hear it all,

everything is right here,
there's no such thing as silence,
and that shouldn't be a problem,
in fact, i think it's beautiful.
Shawn Mar 2013
though we all are decaying,
with minds collectively fading,
comfort is in confidence
to spin fast enough
to maintain balance.
Shawn Mar 2013
to get over writer's block,
not for likes, reblogs,
views, or compliments.
just start.
with words
and nothing more.

losing that longing
for validation
is a liberating cry
that i wish could echo
through these hills,
into libraries
and classrooms
and that notepad
which remains blank
at your bedside.
Shawn Mar 2013
what is it to miss?

is it to sink in
imagined traps
like quicksand
or tar pits?

i can feel the
pulse of artery
inside my ears,
it speeds
when focus is lost
and thoughts return
to almost-forgotten
fragrances, and
awkward night moves.

i long for you
like MSG,
like toblerones at christmas,
like the aging
wish for breath
clear of wheeze
and joints free
of limitation,
like an addict
yearns not for drug
but respite,

like you
used to long for me.
Shawn Feb 2013
your beauty is so
that i want to open
multiple tabs of you,
crash my computer
with curiosity
and overwhelm capacity,

in the blue screen that follows
i unscramble coding language,
and spell your name and
traits that i admire,

in that moment during restart
staring at the black of screen,
thoughts of 'us' are interrupted
when i see my own reflection.
Shawn Nov 2012
old school game
like saying exactly how i feel
when i feel it
not waiting the allocated amount
of time before responding to texts
to feign aloofness

making out outside like
when i was 17 at my parents house
afraid of getting caught
with enough surrounding trees
to obscure vision
oblivious to the freezing
nature of this rain falling upon
our skin, it's slick against
my fingers, the perfect complement
to lips connected, the sound
of rain in the background, the feel
of it falling from the brim of baseball cap
(i'm wearing one for some reason?)
the taste of peach (it was apples before)
the fumbling of hands against clothing
(where before it was inexperience,
now the cold hinders movement)
your stunted giggles as my tongue explored
the movements in sync shortly after starting

this dance feels familiar
like slow song, hands on hip
nostalgic yet current
it's something i never knew i craved
Shawn Jul 2012
days of creativity
have now been consumed,
by shuffling papers,
endless derivations,

(next slide)

days of creativity
have now been destroyed,
by chemical formulas,
molecular models,

(next slide)

days of creativity
have now been recreated,
by a smile,
that puts the brightest
powerpoint projector
to shame...

(next slide)

days of creativity
have now been put together
by eyes that create an escape
from dull lecture,
(no longer lost,
in algorithm.)

(next slide)

so indescribable,
that presentations,
need not continue,
laser pointers put away,
lights off,
books closed.
I was an 18 year old in love, what can I say?
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