this music pleases me
it has the riffs
heavy bass and thundering drums
a singer whose voice
sounds like gravel and ice

but it doesn't excite me
there is plenty but not enough
there is emotion but stunted
there is noise but too controlled
I want them to hear them play
like no one is listening

Μέσα σε όνειρα και σε εφιάλτες
Τόσες ευκαιρίες και πρόσωπα σβησμένα
Βήματα που έγιναν με βάρος και με τόλμη
Και τελικά πήγαν χαμένα

Μέσα στη ζούγκλα ένα άγριο ζώο
Που δε ζητάει ποτέ αυτό που θέλει
Βρες το κάτω από το δέρμα
Σκάψε εντός, κοίτα στον καθρέφτη

Είναι ένα παζλ που του λείπουν κομμάτια
Είναι ένα αίνιγμα που του λείπουν στοιχεία
Μια πόλη στον θόρυβο πνιγμένη
Και ποιος ο λόγος μου να μείνω;

Όπου κι αν δείχνουν τα σημάδια
Όποια κατεύθυνση κι αν δίνουν
Εκείνη─      μισεί εμένα
Και εγώ─    νιώθω το ίδιο

Can't get this page to fill
This pen is bleeding white noise

Creators are made off their failures
And achy finger joints

I'm digging untill my back breaks
Silence I won't accept

I promise
Next time I'll feel the words
I'll write
If they return

Despite the talk and chatter,
the laughter and giggles--
I find there is quiet in the noise,
just me and my mind in a silent room.

another brooklyn afternoon
the sound of scamps playing below
and the passing subway roar
who can ask for more
on this brooklyn afternoon
the sunshine asks
what else in store
just the shadows of curtains
and trees if you please
tempering a fading sirening
back into familiar
hums of a city that'll
never appease
as an early spring evening
settles in to say it's alright
and so long to you and
everyone, and twilight
purrs on for us and anyone
always again.

The claps
Explode inside my ears, thundering blanks of noise
The cheers and chatter
Whispers
Mutters
Rush into my ears like seawater, and I can't help but drown...
Static.
Static everywhere, wires zinging and zapping,
Skewer my brain and blend it into froth
Pouring out of my eyes as I squeeze them shut.
And as the frost rushes through my spine, into my lungs,
Curling its claws around my throat,
My screams for silence are just that.

I sit on the cold tile
outside my class
people walking by
cold digging into my ***

the squeak and buzz of basket ball boys
girls laughing around the corner.
I work on my project
my poems
my life

and somehow it doesn't get any warmer.

What the world sees
and what you think you are presenting
is not what you think it is
when I hear your gears announcing themselves
struggling and winding
slipping between their metal teeth
amplified by your modified tailpipes
I imagine a neanderthal with their sloping brow
and knuckles dragging the ground
getting up each morning late for work
when I hear you change gears from my living room
I wonder what part of you is missing
by your need to announce yourself
through your tailpipe
I want to help you look
the whole world wants to help you look
a mother’s love
to be held and cuddled and told again and again
I hear you
I am so sorry the world didn’t notice you standing there
I think you are just wonderful the way you are
there is no need to puff yourself up to compensate
let me help you find what you are missing
you broken winged butterfly
you lost adorable kitten
let me help you put yourself together again
you forty-five piece porcelain set of chipped china