Part I

No words need be spoken
Inhaling loudly,
She is mindful and content.
The only artifice here
A camera in her gear;
This instant in a frame
As wonders engulf her,
She claims.

I stand at the centre,
Swamped by
The tick of high heels and chatter.
Mindful and composed,
Left aghast
By the mass who walk past.
The right words come up
Binding my feelings to my art.

Part II**

Smell the air
Both dig inspiration
Elsewhere;

Differences
Of worldly proportions
Our nature
Do not fit by definition.

Entering each other's realm,
We love to understand.

May this gap
Be bridged with time
For I am afraid

We do not rhyme.

when i was younger
i was scared
that everyone around me
was actually a robot
and maybe i was right
because it seems to me
that i am the only one
with any common sense
so why are we still calling it
"common sense"?

Nearly two years ago
You'd smile because you liked me,
Then you'd smile because you loved me.
God you'd even smile
Because I made you so angry
You wanted to **** me and kiss me at the same time.

What I mean is that you smiled at me
For so many reasons, countless reasons really.

Even now you still do it,
I mean, don't get me wrong
You smile at me

Out of common courtesy.


F.Z.**N

A common thread runs through us... connecting our spirits... our lives.
This thread is difficult to see for some... impossible to see for others... and neglected by many.
What a shame it is to feel so disconnected... so lonely... when we share this thread among us.

Willows whisper secrets in my ear;
secrets that I cannot hear.
I wish and wonder why
the wisdom I am given is so profound.

Deep, intense… vision and insight
without a useful purpose.
Feels much like a thorn I cannot find…
constantly digging into my side.

I do not understand the what or the when;
Amnesia has stolen most of my development.
But memories are more than mere facts;
The procedures and the logic and the sense remain.

A sense of which I cannot describe…
It tastes a bit like dry, red wine.
Bites my tongue, rendering all vocalization
incoherent; all memories distorted.

I search, I scan, I compare, I analyze…
And, ultimately, I suspend.
Permanence I will fight to the end.
Purpose is to be made… and not to be found.

Perhaps this coherence is not profound.
Perhaps it is of common sense.

There she was, standing on the train
Drops in her hair from the outside rain
She had rough holes in her shoes,
A small tear up her tights,
Beneath her ruffled hair her eyes shone bright.

Reading her book in just a sweater,
Moving her lips with each glorious letter
Not wearing a coat,
Saving up for the right one,
Heading home to laugh and have fun.

The same skirt that has been worn each day this week,
Beneath her blouse sleeves delicate wrists do peak,
A curl behind her ear and
Regular earrings worn without fail,
Behind her she leaves a positive trail.

I don't understand
Why I seek love
On an intellectual level
Rather than
Be stubborn and stupid
About it
Since
I am not smart
But I am average
So I've got that going for me

Not the kind of stupid love that
Continuously makes babies
Even if it can't support them
But the stupid love that
Stupidly burns itself in the fire
And jumps into the flames

Someone call out to him
Before he does something senseless

Someone call out to him*
Because I won't