Boxing with the Lord a lot.
A little unorthodox.
and no goes.
living in my nose and snot.
Rhymes so dope,
whether you really fucking know or not.
The line I just wrote
weathered my mother fucking poets block.
I’ve never known someone so cold,
that flows this hot.
But now I know me,
I was living in a moment
where the growth had stopped.
Frozen clocks, and
Obstacles had my motions locked.
and I won't fucking claim
to show I’m not.
I wear them on the sleeve,
so you see them when I sneeze.
Believe, achieve, succeed and repeat.
That's the motto and creed.
My bravado deserves a bravo,
you don't know what I've seen.
First name Dan,
and the plan is, demanding the dream.
Situations at hand are,
seriously handed to me.
So I’m fucking glad to be me,
but still mad as can be.
I’m a walking contradiction,
with laundry lists of addictions.
In addition to a mission,
but yo no, I’m no mathematician.
I’m just living up the vision.
This is art mixed with business.
Expression is the passion,
these are the facts that were missing...
It’s that love can be tragic,
but the tragedy isn’t,
the bad or the visits
to the past,
it’s the last of the wishes.
It’s the "What if I didn’t?"
and the ever lasting "What isn’t."
It’s doing time in a cell,
that got banished from visits.
I’m locked down by love,
in a spell that I'm living.
What is this wall?
And where did it come from?
Why is blocking my brain and not letting my mouth speak?
I'll tear it down
I will destroy it
Then my mouth will tell you how you make me weak
Oh I see your wall is up too
I can see by the things you don't say
Every question I ask
And every question you ignore
Is another brick for your foundation
I can see your wall is actually a mask
I'll cover my face with a mask as well
I will let it hide every single smile that you accidentally evoke
This mask works wonders, can you tell?
I've been smiling since you've been here
Looking closer i think your mask might be broke.
You're mask isn’t hiding your eyes
Your eyes are all I need to see
Now i'm lost again staring at your face
Oh wait you're mask just turned into space.
Giving space is easy I can do that with no problem
I'll take a thousand steps backwards
With all this space why isn't there anywhere to hide?
Shit no barriers, I can still see you
Even as a shadow you're still beautiful
Your space is working perfect, your space is a million miles wide
I can see your shadowy silhouette
Your hair dancing around your body
I need my hands on you, I need to make this walk
I'll take a thousand steps closer
Close enough to touch
There isn't any more space but now there is this lock
Fine, here is my lock
I won't let you in if I can't
And nothing can be opened without a key
A key I guess you never had
A key you never asked for
maybe this is will be better for me?
Your lock is massive
Strong and durable
And there is gum in the keyhole
Why am I trying to break through, if you don't want me to
No more lock, just a wall with a peephole
A wall with a hole
What good is this for?
I guess it’s nice to be able to see you
Hopefully i'll be able to catch your eye sometime?
Can you feel me always watching?
I realize i need something new
Your peephole is always empty
There is never an eye looking back at me
Why would there be?
All these moments give me hope
Why does hope do this?
Why is hope is killing me?
I will cover this hole in my wall
I know i created this wall for me
This wall will keep my brain from letting my heart speak
I'll leave it up
I’ll cherish it
Then my mouth will never tell you how you make me weak
Liquid courage to numb the pain.
Intoxicated to forget.
Offbeat blood, sent from heart to vein.
Returns with a guest, she just met.
She closes up, leaves the bar clean.
To her apartment, around three.
In bed she lays, counting some sheep,
That mock her, thinking she will sleep.
She hears the crickets’ lonely beat.
Reminding her of creeps she meets.
Sometimes they have a potential start.
But never truly go that far.
Each night dealt with some other cards.
But slowly starts to build up guard.
She puts less time in her makeup.
But drunks continue to pick up.
She joins in shots, hopes to pass out.
But in her head she hears the shouts.
Her heart’s hunger for real love.
Her clouded thoughts rise above.
A newly turned insomniac.
No longer sleeping on her back.
Till curtains peek with starry eyes.
So bright, leaves a forceful rise.
Her sobs like strings of violin.
A void no liquor can fill in.
Despite how much she tries to drown.
The aches resonate with shrill sounds.
Another night, still found no one.
A man enters, two drinks and done.
She questions him, “What is the rush?”
Always pulled into a quick crush.
But never really tends to last.
As he mumbles about his past.
A bartender, like therapist.
As alcohol reveals the gist.
Now drunk and loud, he starts to shout.
Before his crash, he raises doubt.
He talks about, the best he lost.
Always at home, waits for the toss.
She cheers him up, when in a rut.
He gets up again, “That damn mutt!
To see her hurt, curled up in bed.
I held her paw, up till her death.”
The next night, slept pretty early.
He was perfect, brown hair curly.
Her eyes were lost, but not with lust.
Enjoyed his smells, delicious must.
A piece of her, became a part.
Happy to save his sinking heart.
Rescued him, he slept on her rug.
Named Milo, her three-legged dog.
As she steps out of the gloomy shadows of her past, and her inhibitions melt away into vapour, the angels of her future levitate around her bathed in beige light.
From her mistakes she has abolished, she is ready to step into the sun yet again.
Letting herself spread her soft, white wings to fly.
The present dwells in her thoughts like an
F-22 pilot diving through the sky.
A chance of new love shines upon her.
Far away in distant yesterday she clung onto the cliff of sanity, holding on.
Louder she is crying and harder each breath becomes, she is slipping ever so slightly.
A sudden rush of an epiphany triggers mind power and she pulls herself from danger.
Rips off her chains from her pale limbs,
For the sake of her soul.
The bloody remains of her wailing reaper, she leaves behind, for her life.
Hold on, Hold on.
Battle the cruelty of the world and seek your ambitions from start to finish.
If you feel like letting go, halt from illness and destruction.
Let mis-hope burn in the depths of nothing from the domination of the optimism in you.
Don't let yourself be left behind by other beings, without a fight.
Don't let them leave you DYING!
Take a stance, for what you believe in and take on this so called perfect world and live to victory…
There’s always a world within you,
A whole new different hue,
Don’t fret about the time you have,
Just enjoy the days of being alive,
You will blossom and flourish!
Your past is like a seed that will undoubtedly make you grow and flourish,
Dream about poetry and art,
But don’t let those dreams get away,
Make art and poetry your ultimate bae!
C'est la vie is what they say!
It’s life and it’s your life,
Make it what you want and make it sway!
I look at the sky and
wonder exactly who I’m talking to...
I still feel that vibe,
that I felt when I would talk to you.
I wonder, do you listen?
Are you up there talking too?
Do you listen to my bitching,
or send signs that I’m walking through?
Since I’ve been little,
I’ve been living in the vaults
of the faults of youth.
And in that time,
there hasn’t been one minute
when I haven’t ever not thought of you.
I miss you.
But I’m living,
exactly like I was taught to do.
I sought out all the things,
that you told me that I ought to do.
There were a couple of times
when I should have at least called a few...
But now I call to you,
in the times that are really hard to lose.
Souls inlist in solitude,
enlisted by the distance,
insisted by the songs the truth.
So I sing them when I can,
then I sit back and relax.
Know that you got my fucking back,
thats just the fact of the facts.
So I’m back on the tracks,
scripting all these tracks to the max.
I was living off the rails,
but won’t fail, with comebacks.
I can’t bail on the plans,
that I never knew that I had.
So I deal when I can,
and let faith play its hand.
This is my I love you,
thats engraved in the sand.
Washed away with the ocean.
Emotional moments off land.
We are not poets.
Nor are we artists.
We are the bleeding hearts
Daring to rebel.
Society cuts this world into careful little blocks.
Devided by cold cut stones forced to comply.
If you look a little closer, you will notice,
Not us, for you will never see our face
But you will see our fragments.
The pieces of us we leave behind for you
Scattered among these cold stone walls
Words we have carved into the stone
With our own bloody nails.
Proof that we exsist.
Proof that you can to.
So here we are,
Strings of letters
And scattered lines,
All echoing the same war cry.
“We Are Here.”