#greenday
I’m the one who walks a lonely road the only one I have ever known
With my own ST. JIMMY who I ask to GIVE ME NOVOCAINE
The one who gives me my novacaine, so I won't feel a thing
And be a 21ST CENTURY BREAKDOWN losing what's left of my mind
Just being one of THE FORGOTTEN inside someone’s memory
Always singing the punk SONG OF THE CENTURY
Wishing I wasn’t the song EXTRAORDINARY GIRL
Hoping that I’m not always ST. JIMMY THE AMERICAN IDIOT
Mar 29, 2022
Mar 29, 2022 at 12:37 PM UTC
A night spent with a fandom family
At a place where you can be yourself
With bands that understand you
Where you can say Thnks Fr Th Mmrs afterwards
For them making you never feel like you're alone
Cause they made it feel like home at the show
That's What Hella Mega Tour Means To Me
Jul 29, 2021
Jul 29, 2021 at 6:05 PM UTC
Sitting here in
The middle of the night
All I can think about is you,
But also being the best version of myself.
Yesterday is just a day and it's in the past, moving forward
One day at a time, you can only try to do better than the day before.
Understanding life is hard and we're all in this together
In the middle of the
Night I
Think, if we can all work to get and
Help each other, oh how the
Earth would be a much better place....
HOPE, LOVE, PEACE....
Each day we can only hope that the younger generation can fix our mistakes
And change our world....
Right now, I lay here next
To you sleeping and can only hope for the future.
Jun 16, 2020
Jun 16, 2020 at 12:24 AM UTC
I'm lying on my bed and Green Day is singing,
I'm drinking my tea and sometimes i'm thinking.
Dreaming about the time when we'll be together,
If you left me alone tell me i'll go to where?
My cat is sleeping early today as always,
I've tried to walk to you with the all ways.
But you burned down every bridge between us,
You gone away and now i'm totally in muss.
Jan 20, 2019
Jan 20, 2019 at 5:30 AM UTC
Dylan got it first, as he often did,
That American youth were ignorant kids,
Betrayed by the things our parents hid.
And we were insulted just a little bit
But we listened and took the plunge,
Determined to expunge
The poison and let out the Id.
It was up to us not heed the call up
And as one voice we stood up,
Saying, shouting NO!
Twenty or so legendary years for some;
While others sold out, we beat the drum.
Our peers oddly died around us but….
Even as we ‘felt those cold hands’ touch our skin,
As The Capitalists were closing in—
& Some of them were us…
We sounded the drum.
Later on some hippie-punks or is it the other way(?)
Sang about extraordinary girls & then took a fall.
Sometimes begged for Novocain
Which wouldn’t relieve psychic pain,
Like being Ramonely sedated in a concert hall.
Nobody knew what to do with them.
Except to give them fame.
(It was just as bad for them as for the Clash)…
Hell, they almost invented the mash-up.
And too many anti-hippie punks
Loaded on cheap ****** or always drunk,
Claimed all those heroes had sold out.
But Ziggy would’ve known Ash from Ash.
Then came their Blood on the Tracks;
They finally saw what Dylan saw,
Or, if they saw it before,
They got some Real Emotion back.
Nothing has changed and everything has changed,
Said The Heathen…and he should know.
But how do we see, stuck here ‘so far below’,
Not remotely in the know;
They might be on an intergalactic trip
Or as in “A.I”, nothing more than a binary blip?
But encased in virtual ice, how can we live?
Until the end…and even then…
As John wrote, we only get the love we give.
Jul 14, 2018
Jul 14, 2018 at 1:28 PM UTC
There’s no point in going to bed
Or closing the shutters on my eyes
Because I believe that sleep is for the dead
And rest I don’t prioritize
There is no American noise
When everyone else is quietly slumbering
One of my favorite parts about three AM
Is peace and tranquil wondering
My brain is like a pair of eyes
And the optometrist is changing the lens
Conjectures and notions are out of focus
Here and there and back again
My mind is an untuned radio
Thoughts, an endless garble of static
I’m swimming in between the airwaves
And my body functions are automatic
Languor sometimes hits me
Like a wave crashing on a shore
But soon enough it has dissipated
As if it was never there before
Count the circles ‘round my eyes
Like the rings on an ancient tree
How many sleepless nights am I at now?
Because melatonin is an escapee.
My spirit is miles and miles away
Wandering where it wants to
If only someone would bring it back
Since sleep is long past overdue.
Jan 25, 2018
Jan 25, 2018 at 6:56 PM UTC
*(i'm 42% sure
i don't exist.)*
intensely greased
plastic hair
secondhand green day
coldplay in the rain
i love the sound
that waxed paper
deli sheets make
and i could choke
on a glassed reflection
of celery salts and windex.
*(i'm 42% sure
i don't exist
because when i look into
my eyes i see someone else)*
i'm not catholic
and do not
understand who
st. peter is
but i wonder if he won't let
us into heaven because we're
failures or if we're failures
because he won't let us into heaven
*(i'm 42% sure
i don't exist
and questioning how
bad hell can really be.)*
too quiet for a saturday
i wrote the word
decaf so many times i
forgot how to spell it
decaf
decaf
decaf
decaf
*(does decaf
have two f's?
because i don't have
two f's to give anymore
i mean i would but
i can't even find
vowels much less
extra consonants)*
when i was a child
i always counted in
mississippis
now that i'm older i
find myself counting in
cappuccinos
i dreamed my
legs were bleeding
and i remembered
that they're not
i want so badly
just to sleep in
a bag of crystallized
ginger and swim
in a mixing bowl of
tasteless tea.
*(i can't tell what's
real anymore
but i'm 42%
sure that i am not.)*
Aug 24, 2016
Aug 24, 2016 at 5:44 PM UTC
*I'm headbanging
To* NIRVANA
*I'm jumping around
To* GREEN DAY
*I Cry when I hear
The song* GUARDIAN ANGEL
*But I smile
When I hear* Your Voice...
Mar 7, 2016
Mar 7, 2016 at 2:54 PM UTC
Stay silent,
eyes sewn shut,
and you can almost hear
the whispers
from where they once were
when they were still here;
chatter,
laughter,
now only a blur, white noise.
you get used to it, you know?
Stay silent,
with every sore step
on blistered soles,
and you can almost hear
the shattering of abandoned dreams
fractions upon fractions;
the satisfying cracking
almost like an attraction
a sick addiction
of mine.
you get used to it, you know?
Stay silent,
with the company of only your shadow,
and you can almost hear
every breath of this
godforsaken town,
breathing in... and out...
a frosty wind blowing at your fingertips,
only to reassure a sense of belonging.
you stay awake as the city drowns
into an awful slumber.
until my demons find me, I'll walk alone,
you'll get used to it, anyway.
Oct 21, 2015
Oct 21, 2015 at 9:57 PM UTC
I wish you could be here to feel my heart flutter when I think about you
Funny, because I hardly know you, but I still wish to be in your arms.
Arms which I've ever felt.
You're an enigma to me; mysterious yet captivating,
and I want to solve you.
I want to pick up your pieces and put them together like a jigsaw puzzle.
I want to see the picture they make when they come together,
and cry when I have to take it apart put the pieces back in the box.
I want to fall asleep thinking about you, and get a text message that you are thinking about me too.
I want to hold your hand and trace the lines on your palm, The heart line and life line, and laugh when yours and mine match.
I want to lean in close and whisper secrets only we know
and you'll whisper back that you agree.
I want you to mess my hair up.
I want my mother to be suspicious when I come home wearing your sweatshirt and not mine.
I want to lay out in the grass together watching the clouds with headphones in, listening to Green Day because I know you like them.
I know that much about you.
I know your eyes are brown and dark
and your mother thinks you are gorgeous.
I know your speech slurs when you get excited and start talking fast.
I know you tease me, and I think you like me too, but I don't know that for sure.
I know you have a silly ring of hat hair when you leave work, and I hate it but I love it too.
I know I recall all these things about you to write this poem, and I'm smiling as I think about you.
I wonder what you are doing right now, not this, for sure, you're probably playing Xbox with your friends and thinking about graduating in two weeks.
But not me, I'm thinking about you, funny, I know, because I really hardly know you, but maybe that's okay, maybe one day I will know something about you.
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 12:10 AM UTC