there's no one quite like it
the voice in your head
it tells you you're pretty
than tells you you're dead
there for you in silence
there for all the pain
it picks up the pieces
it cut out of your brain

Sea of rubber, storm of rock
Ponder endless, mudslide thoughts
Never,
      never,
           never        
stops
    Until I
cannot see

Batter, torment, carry, pour
Solid things are shifting shores
    Until
I cannot hear

Sighs are monsters, out from under
Mud is made of every mutter
Thunder fades into more thunder
    Avalanche demands

All of what you thought was peace
deserts to deserts underseas
the grains of sand
climb past  your knees

    and now i cannot think

I used to hide from walls of rock
  or shrink into a corner;
    
    at least
cement
    is solid set

Don't you think we'd be better off,
Just tryin' to tie it all up in a knot,

Can't you find a better way,
If you got a word or two that you need to say?

Yeah I don't think,
It's healthy,
To be stuck,
So please tell me,

The answer,
To our problem,
Is to not fall,
To the bottom.

I'm tossin' around,
I feel like a clown,
The world's rollin' over me

I'm goin' to town
I keep fallin' down
This atmosphere's killin' me

It's been a long day
And the night is gettin' longer

I ain't no alley cat
Or a black and white striped robber

I need to go to bed,
So I'll wake up in a morn,
With some pepper in my step,
Feelin' like I've been reborn
But the clock is tickin' by
And the well is gettin' dry
So let's all go to sleep
For a while.

Love is a dance ..two..three chance ..two romance ..two..three
Hearts beat so fast ..two..three vast ..two the last ..two..three
Movement and rhythm split light through a prism becomes something more
Temperature rising the future devising becomes something more
Love is a dance. Take a chance Life enhance ..two..three

the sound of the highway outside
whispers through this rain-tapped glass:

quiet and fleeting and constant,
so like wind and rain and nature,
ebbs and flows, soothes with those
highs and lows and breaks—

with no telling when it will end,
just a rhythm like sleepy breaths,
a lullaby in the making

i prefer this noise to silence
outside my window in that dark;
a vast world alive and vibrant
while i slip into muted dreams

Ok

Yes, it’s not all about love, or pain but surely it’s a metaphor for the depths of the halls we walk by ourselves amongst ourselves in order to confuse anyone that tries to wander too close to our hearts. Oh come on! Poetry is so pretentious.

To hide through rhythmic syllables, to share a sonnet with thee. To dedicate an entire repertoire of acoustic melodies in order to talk about her body?

Do not get me wrong, I love my fair share of dramatic soliloquies but it seems, to me that honesty has lost its value. Especially with writers. There’s no more truth anymore…no. It always has to develop into a complicated string of ideas. There was a time when writers were able to talk about a woman or lover or whatever, without invoking all the gods.

Learn how to love for what simply is

I eat my rice with birds and mice
I treat my nice with turds and lice
I drink my wine with pigs and swine
I write my words with prose and rhyme
I swing my club with strength and pride
I take my steps with prance and stride

I show you all now what's inside
These words I trust; I will abide.

My heartbeat's gone all wrong
A stuttering flutter of rhythmic butter
Something this *****'s been slipping on
And what is the tempo marking, dear?
Quarter note equals freakin’ infinity
It's come to my attention, I fear
I never breathed a note this long

Star, Scarred, barred from gleaming
beaming to the world, seeming
as if light has the ultimate might
to shower the glassy body with power
of being, seeing the present as it is
or is not, but cut off from the sky
Star marred, far away from home
roams, the sky in wanderlust and sorrow.