"breathin" poems
Last night I dreamt
You called me "gorgeous,"
"Gorgeous?" I said, "that's not my name," I said,
As my cherry red tongue dropped my lollipop
Straight on the ground,
***** red sugar slivers gorging on my
Blood vessels pumping into my heart -
A big metal spoon banging on a cast iron skillet.
Skillful, you are with your
Cinnamon heart smile
Burning my taste buds and
Hugging my curves with every -
Gorgeous.
I dreamt of you
Running your finger like a wet paintbrush on my
Obscenely white canvas
Soaking up my stereotypically common insecurities and
Gently placing them in your pocket,
"I'll take those, gorgeous,"
And then you color me with purples and reds,
Red,
Like Red Delicious waiting
For the bite, like my neck,
Waits for your teeth, maybe
I'll just wake up and keep dreaming,
To see you,
Fiddling with a razor in one pocket,
A cloudy crystal in the other,
Mediating the argument of
Who gets to protect you -
Who gets to lick the salt from your cheeks
After backyard creeks race to your lips
The space between our tongues so small,
Yet it weighs on me like
A sixteen hour car trip with your baby cousin,
Torture.
Like blue eyes shaded by glasses,
Hiding behind fallen heads.
I woke up just to remember
That your eyes are the only shapes I draw in the dark.
Begging for sleep to bring me back
To watch you stare at the dirt snuggled into your
Weather cracked boots
Your fingers tugging at the chain that rests on your chest,
Keeping my attention,
On the heavy black coat I'll be wearing 'til
Summer, an extra layer of skin,
Keeping me from gorgeous,
Let me drop it like an old tissue in the cold,
Let me lose it like I've been sick for weeks on you
And I'm shedding my skin like it's time to start new,
There you go,
Wearing your silence like a tuxedo,
**** - always ****
And you're breathin' fractions of facts in my ear,
Seducing it's drum like a late night jazz club and
It's your first time on stage,
Gorgeous.
Let my stomach politely introduce itself to my throat,
Pleading with my temple to hold on to that bead of sweat that
Reluctantly drips down,
Gorgeous.
Down,
Like the tips of your lashes meeting my bellybutton,
Wet lips tracing my skin with "gorgeous,"
In your black coffee voice,
Gorgeous.
Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 11:32 AM UTC
the new tupac will have you too walkin with gangstas
the new two stupidity now two steppin with prankstas
murked the first one sayin he's blacker the berry
when i'm sweeter than juice
bass voiced top me if you want to experience that jacked tweeters induced
when i own all of Victoria's secrets as proof
tellin me what the body when all his deducement has him actin when he's wearin his shoes
crypt walking like that it's only talk
missed balking like has bass fits jocking as his only walk
******* with me when All Hailed Mary like if she was his when is only stolen balk
I'm walkin again the gauntlet cuz all the women they want this flauntin all **** like if i was jackin all the wanted
like ghost whippin me imma follow you till i'm haunted
pain really, so bow down, when my diamonds glisten
listen again is just as well bilateral biased has his confused his like the ol' eminem was in the new form gettin his face jacked again
like me smokin crack with friends like all given enemies stressed was all given was a race black and then
we actually are the same race like i knew you back like i owned all the streets like his females thuggin as heathen
**** riding i'll **** your *** up like settin me up when i'm always the last muthafucken breathin
exposing the ***** heathen breathin like if you were the only man catching bullet rounds exposed like the new you was still alive
to the next ** hiked my socks up construed you at hit stupidity when will ride
ghettos owned by just the black reppin when you're steppin the whack, honest it was just onyx
i'll blast your *** like if you stole my pump shotty:
like i never was wanted runst follies
anamoly run has all criminal cops all fathering fun deceiving that all to gain was never greed when all greed in need bothering sons:
all you still down with me when we ride it
looking like a *** while i'm guy gee stag when you're looking into their eyes, they'd know comparison of a bird control as if fathering guys
my knowledge is flight applauding the time, are you still down with me
i hide behind the love of beauty of my womens eyes when you're looking like the female opened you up to your face compared to opening thighs
they don't know like how you stare in the future that tommorow comes only after the dark
knowing me marks the coming of the actual god
I am "unconditional heart"
Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 11:59 AM UTC
peach cobbler, that's what you remind of
the sweet, southern staple that everyone loves
but when the pom-poms fell from your hands
you told the girls in the van on the way to fun mountain
"I can't do those stunts anymore."
I still laugh at myself for my inappropriate and abrupt,
"WHAT!?!?"
but your collected calmness collected me
until i saw in the back of your eyes the collected fear
and realized the daunting fact,
that even though you were nearly 9 months my younger
in 9 months
you were going to have to be years older than me
we were raised to plan
but planning doesn't determine how life occurs
cause you never really plan to fall down
i know there were those who showed you love
but i'm sure being named "pastor's daughter" and labeled "cliche"
didn't do you any favors in the judgement days
and i'm sorry i only made you a dress to hide the bump
when you deserved a cape
to soar over that injustice
that no one has the right to serve
what its like to inhabit a body that is growing beauty
i don't know, but watching you
i have seen it can be ... a change
which, i'm sure, that doesn't even remotely explain ... does it?
no it's ... a Life Alteration of Volcanic Proportions
cause I'm sure, at times, you feel as if standing in the wake of an explosion
and sometimes the earth spews fiery filth at you
but i believe mothers are fire proof
cause they know they have beauty that grew inside
and when you look at that doe eyed, preschooler son
remember that love strengthens you
heaven is powerful
and you are both beautiful
Jul 23, 2012
Jul 23, 2012 at 2:59 PM UTC
Livin’ and breathin’ is all that I got
Take a deep breath got my stomach in knots
Can’t tie me down, no you can’t enslave me
Hopin’ someone will come out and save me
Fear and depression are clouding my head
I’m closing my eyes, I think that I’m dead
Fighting for sanity, fighting to lose
Fighting for the chance that I get to choose
Running from something I can’t recall
Too many steps and I’m gonna fall
The buildings edge is right in my sight
One little leap and I can take flight
Lost in the sounds and lost in the pain
Know what I’ve done’s been done in vain
I’m haunted by the past of me
A ghost of who I used to be
Their mistakes are all that I can see
I’m running, I’m running
I hate the scars along skin
A memory of where I’ve been
They’re white lined trails of my darkest sin
I’m running, Im running
Screaming and crying filling my ears
Covered in burns from venomous tears
Im breaking mirrors, I’m screaming in pain
Can’t go on living, theres nothing to gain
Losing myself in the ruts of my days
Breathin’ in smoke with eyes blurred by the haze
Once a week poison killin’ me slowly
Devil on my back, they call me unholy
No where to go, got hounds on my trail
Begging that somehow I will prevail
Imagine a life where I can rest
Instead I’ve got this weight on my chest
Got these voices, they callin’ my name
No one around me, no one to blame
I’m haunted by the past of me
A ghost of who I used to be
Their mistakes are all that I can see
I’m running, I’m running
I hate the scars along skin
A memory of where I’ve been
They’re white lined trails of my darkest sin
I’m running, Im running
Nov 12, 2020
Nov 12, 2020 at 10:54 PM UTC
im walking along
hardly breathin cause it might disturb
im steppin in the shadows of great men
with one eye on the popularity of what im sayin
but i dont think anybody sees me anyway
cept her and its real hard to tell what shes thinkin
dressed to the nines and she lickable head to toe
hard body honey half my age
came here to pick a fight with the powers that be
dont stand a chance but thats beside the point
cant you feel the storm brewin
been there since it became hip to be an activist
tempest in a tea ***
but what a blast its been
a struggle of the masses not to drink another latte
a demand for justice for the **** who ate the last bearclaw
he trims that fashion beard
combs out the rough phrase from his latest trending poem
and some cat in london stamps his seal of approval
sold out for a pat on the back
just remember kiddo that your a greenhorn
and i got one beady little eye on ya
meanwhile in chechnya they are swaping pens for rifles
feel little like hemingway
wanna throw it all away in a blaze of glory
for the ideal of the revolt with some
things still worth fightin for
hand me that pen
got a ruckus to make
Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 1:38 PM UTC
Wi yer eyes stingin n wet wi tears
N muk bungin up tha nose n ears
N a white rimmed ed where thi's ad thi hat
Up tha floats on't lift like a drownded rat
After twelve hours tha's pretty dun in
Whilst t'other folks as been kippin n dreamin
Tha's bin diggin n drillin like summart daft
Now up tha floats on't hydraulic raft
The cold morn air meks tha lungs urt
Cause tha's bin breathin muk n dirt
Fer nigh on forty years or more
That most folks wudn't ave on't floor
N as tha washes all't muk away
Tha knows thas sum that'll allus stay
N whilst outside tha luks nice n clean
Tha's stuff inside thi th't'll never be seen
Until o course tha's gon n died
N them docter fellers tek a look inside
N in amazement they'll stand n stare
At all that muk th't shudn't be there
N wen tha's ded it'll be nowt new
Not too a bloke what's lived like you
Fer now tha's on'y six feet under
Wen undreds is what thas bin used to
N't Crowner'll say thi ad a natural death
Not like them th't had their last breath
At sixteen, seventeen, twenty or more
When sum big explosions brought ceiling t floor
But a doubt if tha'll think it wer thi turn
As tha lays there nattering t worm
Crawlin in n out o yer ears
Not much t show fer sixtyodd years
Still what else cud you ave dun, that's it
But follow yer old man down pit
A mean even his dad was a facer tha knows
Kem out at thirty wi' ands like claws
Ah well it's time fer sum grub
Then half-a-dozen pints't pub
Wi an hour or two o noonday sun
Then back t wife fer an hour o fun
N be six next morning I'll be feelin well
As I teks yon raft t bowels of 'ell
Thirty shillin a week be summer the reckonin
Ah but then they can't see yon worm beckonin
Remember this is a 'Performance Poem'
and the style of writing acts as a
speech prompt. The accent is loosely
Yorkshire. A 'Crowner 'is an old word
for a Coroner.
I hope you enjoy it.
© David Irwin Phillips 2008
Mar 31, 2010
Mar 31, 2010 at 2:03 AM UTC
I crave your touch
I crave your teeth
I long for the voice
that doesn't match your age.
Leather,
thick musk,
your tempting stare,
should you leave bruises
I wouldn't care
I've been told I'm sick
heard you are too,
Could you love the broken
as much as I do?
You're just a fantasy
wish you were standing here next to me,
oh sweet calamity,
you are just a fantasy.
I think about you,
too often for my own good.
You invade my mind
and debilitate me
Glorious
magnanimous
unspeakable things
I want you to kiss me
during war
while I hold you close
Thinking thoughts about you
when I'm floating in the Yuba Blue
oh sweet calamity,
you are just a fantasy.
wish you were here,
wish you were breathin' down my neck
-tight grip-
rough touch-
chains and leather
fantasies together
too many long nights
with you in my head
impossible
unfathomable
unimaginable
just a, simple, fantasy.
I think you look really nice
too bad for me
I'm afraid your heart's made of ice
as your Ex-Wife would say
you'd never look my way
for the world is cruel
to girls as young as me.
I am nothing but a ghost
standing guard
waiting for you to relieve me from this post
you'd never love me
eye contact would set me free
imagine a world of we...
a silly little fantasy.
Down on my knees
crying out please
I'd swallow
I'd beg
I'd cut off my leg
just to hear you say my name,
just to hear you say my name...
just to feel your touch...
you are just a fantasy
held up on a pedestal
for the poor to see
oh what would life be like
if I were not so young
and you were not much older,
for the world is cruel
to girls as young as me...
would you notice me?
probably
pass over me...
what a silly little fantasy.
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 3:44 PM UTC
ah hear da dog a snorin and da heavy breathin a da wolf
ah feel da wind a blowin and da chill dats brought in with it
ah see da tings dey creepin to da shadows where dey creach
ah hear da turtle skootin to da den for shelta from da storm
ah feel a mighty shakin comin out chru da broken ground
ah see a terrible storm a brewin in da distance waitin out its time
ah watch as tings dey change an no always for da best
ah see da way dey act when dey done know dey bein watched
ah know da tings dey be doin now dey tink meh watchin
ah see dey know, dey change dey tings dey do
ah feal da change she comin and comin for ya know dey change
ah can na keep a runnin away des tings ah went an run to far
meh guess is da was da right ting ta do
meh goin no betray da love dey sho meh
meh tinks ah done right by him ah wont betray
ah can feel dah silance an da tension in da air
ah know da time she comin for meh but ah hope she no to soon
ah see whas goin on an fallin down around meh
ah no goin to pretend no more, des tings bother meh so much
ah no goin to hold my tongue when ah've been offend'd
ah no goin ta take tings da wrong way any more too much time be wasted
ah got ta find where ah can stole away from da waves of questions raised
ah feel des tings but can na change dem no more than change shes wanted
ah hear da dog a snorin gettin after chasen tails
ah hear da turtle skootin to da den for winter warmth
ah know how what wrong ah've done has come back round
ah can see she been cryin she wares it on her sleeve
ah can see u no more smilin tryin headed for da bed
ah know da whistle ah hear come runnin o da trouble, ah stay out
Oct 28, 2010
Oct 28, 2010 at 4:59 AM UTC
Breath count.
Doubled out.
Half pause and exhale.
Breathe full for more.
Closed eyelids.
Charged silence.
And then
A siren vibration chorus
opens up two contrasted locked doors,
and falls through my porous shapes.
Wash the old cell storage and erase
this byzantine conduit maze made
for losing myself to the grey man inside my skull.
Pull back my irises and behold
a reshaping of awareness.
I AM thisss awareness.
In bold language and expansion,
upward glances and dances
I made up from star dust ballerinas dancin.
So far away from being lost to the chances.
There are no chances.
Life was made not for you, but from you.
To pull through purpose
and choose to
keep
on
breathin.
Directing ITs glow.
Showing God how to flow.
How to sing praise and know
that nothing has been lost or is leavin.
Darkened waters, and quaking storms are weakened
in the silent, still, space that this pressence has seeped in.
Of, in, around, and through.
Creepin.
Sleepin until called to move.
We are always callin.
So true.
Yeah,
IT stays so true.
Whatever you put in, IT pulls to you.
So open up, let in this groove
or choose to lose all that ever meant something.
Was or ever will be hard to lose.
Just see the space and welcome IT in
the empty fullness from where you begin
and end up to begin again.
Recycled through spirals of your imagination.
Practical estimate of reincarnation;
a collective memory passed down through generations
of double helix information storage stations
jotting down every hoped for expression
of who you could possibly be.
And still the variations reach towards infinity.
So yeah this kinda is your one shot
to give this particular expression what you got.
God has just got TOO many incredibly beautiful ideas waiting to be expressed.
And they are all YOU.
So take a step back, it's okay to be impressed.
But even when its hard not to lose my breath to this glorious unfolding,
I still gotta get up,
get dressed,
and go to work in the morning.
I greet presence with every breath I take.
Or at least try to remember ITs name.
I'm still unfolding myself.
Still just pushing the sleep dust from the corners of my eyes.
But with you by my side
there is no one against me.
Only a lover constantly insisting
that the room is oh so cleverly crowded with secret undercover versions of myself.
Existing in and expressing The ONE LIFE that we all are.
Come to me my Love.
Let us begin.
Again.
Aug 12, 2013
Aug 12, 2013 at 12:38 AM UTC
Heathen!
You breath in
sin!
You blow out the walls.
Heathen!
Knowing life
is a free thing.
You never paid
the ferryman -
back you came.
Half dead heathen
barely breathin'.
Stuck in the limbo
between life and death.
Jan 18, 2012
Jan 18, 2012 at 10:55 AM UTC
Like a flower misses the sun,
When the frost takes over the ache creeps in,
Try to shake it off let my petals unfurl,
But it’s hard being rooted to the ground right here,
It’s hard to be feelin’,
Want the sun to come back,
But I gotta keep breathin’,
Make my own warmth, man.
Oct 29, 2012
Oct 29, 2012 at 6:58 PM UTC
No one wants
to read somethin
Happy.
We're lookin for negative, mournful words
from the livin,
breathin,
emotion-reelin
Heart.
Writing bout a bad day
or a crazy situation or two,
that you can't make sense of.
Being sad or upset about anything
is what attracts people
To people.
It's the only way to learn something
About somebody.
Aug 18, 2010
Aug 18, 2010 at 9:34 PM UTC
Whoa.
See that yin?
Jist sittin there?
Ye ken how she’s sittin like that, don’t ye?
Well, whit’s she sittin oan?
Aye, her erse.
She’s only sittin like that
So ye ken she’s got an erse.
Gaggin fir it.
An whoa, check that yin!
Wearin claes!
Filthy cow!
Whit dae ye mean, “Whit dae ah mean”?
Claes!
Ye canny wear claes
If ye huvny got a boady, can ye?
That’s right –
Just screamin it, so she is –
“Check oot ma boady!”
Aye, ah wull an aw!
Don’t mind if ah dae!
Aw, mate – that yin!
That yin ower there!
Bendin her airm!
See her?
Bendin her airm like a mucky ****
That’s so ye ken
She’s got elbows!
Phwoar, I ken your type hen –
you wi yir elbows an a’thin!
Desperate fur it, aren’t ye?
An man! This yin,
walkin towards us!
Breathin in an oot!
Whit a slapper!
Breathin in an oot!
Aye, ye need a pair o lungs tae dae that,
I bet, eh, hen?
A pair o fine, functioning lungs!
Aye, you use them, doll –
dinny you be shy!
Ah’m no!
Aw pal, haud me back!
This yin!
This yin eatin a meat pie!
Shameless wee ****
Aw yeah, baby,
I ken whit that means!
Mean’s ye’ve got yirsel
a **** wee digestive tract in there, no?
Ye dinny hae tae spell it oot tae me, love!
Probably got a pair o kidneys
tucked away in there too,
ye ***** wee *****
Aw the same, ur they no?
Aw ae thum.
Gantin oan it.
Dec 20, 2016
Dec 20, 2016 at 7:39 AM UTC
Addicted to your lovin’ ways
vibrations goin’ up my spine
because of the melody of your voice
let’s be together and plan our future
Yellow flowers are the perfect
reminscement of my infatuation to you
because of your light energy
that’s intact with my lovin soul
and your praiseworthy temple that lets me bow down in worship
Stars shinnin’ 'cause of your beauty
the moon dancin’ 'cause of butterflies in my stomach
wind energy is in motion
like the sailing waters in the ocean
heavy breathin’, night lights
love strokin’, passion rights
can I be yours alone
my heart longs for your touch.
Feb 21, 2015
Feb 21, 2015 at 3:30 AM UTC
got the lights on in the middle of the night
i can taste sorrow in my teeth
where you tongue used to be
its not my job to say whats right
but your love is such a burden
it'll chase me to my sleep
singin songs to **** the time
and the clock is overbearing
its a ****** in my eyes
fillin glasses with my shine
packin up my bags with stones and seashells
and a notepad of my rhymes
i'm goin too far
i'm runnin to my car
and i'm swallowin the gasoline
I'm breathin deeply
i'm wishin on a star
and i'm pickin up a high school dream
I'm not about to call your name
Jun 11, 2013
Jun 11, 2013 at 12:35 AM UTC
Feel Me,an emotion deep inside your heart,
a meadow's wild white simple daisy,
reincarnated in a soft crimson rose,
a scarlet heart of velvet petals,
birthed in embroided silk of mystique passion.
A bacchus of wine filled with perfumed aroma,
in a vineyard of fragrant thoughts of you.
Feel Me,as i come in your night,a soft gentle wind ,
whisperin through your window,caressin your face,
kissin your cheeks,breathin you in sweetest dreams,
takin you in a garden,to a lake, where swans pirhouette,
as we lie down on a mattress of golden threaded leaves.
Feel Me,as we ride,on the open wings of love and fantasies,
Hold me ,as i get lost in you and you get lost in me,
as you drink the nectar of my cherry red lips,
as we kiss,a moist and warm wet kiss.
Feel Me,in the fresh liquid raindrops,patterin,
cleansing your worries away,as i pat your back,
as we walk in the park,as we talk,as I listen and understand,
as we giggle,holdin hands ,sittin on our favourite wooden bench,
under yesterday's lanternes of hundred dancing fire-flies.
Feel me,as we lay on the sand,gazing in each other's eyes,
cheered by tamed silver waves,watching the stars
Hugging below a universe of black ebony skies.
Feel me,as i dip my brush in finest oils,and paint a path
of coloured rainbows,where we can find each other once again,
a path where we can dream,where we can live and love,
where we will never be apart or scent the absence once again.
Feel me,in the candle burning never ending flames of passion,
a young lady,so deeply in love with you,Can you feel me?
My Beloved,Mon amour,Can you feel the touch of me?
Nov 2, 2010
Nov 2, 2010 at 11:11 PM UTC
Thy eloquent beauty
shines through
end
s
Agape
Authentic
Anamnesis
Thy thirst for Knowledge
is
an ineffable well
yearning for rainbow crystals
formed in round drops of the purest waterfalls
We both share this Thin'
To our strings
Acquainted
_ _ _ _
_ _ _ _
My oldest friend
My blood kin(d)
''Eagle Feathers''
My silence speaks of Love. . .
so
Listen Tenderly to
Effervescent Spiritual
Winged~wisdom~Warrior
Within the s~Light(est) memory
our chests are risin'to
THE RHYTHM
breathin' proud prairie Airs
Poundin' as One
Ridin'
By my side
Gallopin' like the Wind
Be brave beloved brother
I'll cherish Thee eternally, as
Cherry Bears Berries
"Small Paws"
Apr 4, 2015
Apr 4, 2015 at 1:57 PM UTC
all my photos are in his passenger's seat
these black and whites of him singing
and talking about the wars he has and hasn't
been in, navigating Penrose like he walked
these roads a thousand times before he ever
took a truck--
and he know everybody's name, date of birth
and probably their social, who died and when--
he's been livin' as 14 other people,
never gets no space and I'm no respecter of that
neither cause the way he looks at me used to
scare me and now I know he jus' scared himself.
saw it when he told me about Braun's body
in the brambles, and in the letters he gets from
past lovers full of jealous jargon-- you made *me
feel terrible*, your fault, ending in a hundred
goodnights, she wants the last word and all I want
is for him to tell me what he's thinkin' when he's angry
'cause he is angry, with bitterness sunk down in his bones
and swimmin' 'round in his chest, he lost weight out at the rig
but kept all that melancholy to himself, brings it home and
drops it in a glass before taking it back in
he asks why I'm lookin' and it's just 'cause.
Just 'cause i'm looking at his eyelashes while
he sleeps or the lip of his brow hidin' eyes a lot lighter than you'd think, committing the eagle on his back to memory
with that scripture from Isaiah a ways off in my head,
scrawled on the back of my heart,
written at the crown of his spine,
I used to wonder about the integrity of his skin
if water'd seep through or run off, used to think
he was made of wood with rice paper shutters--
but he's a mountain, a snowcapped alp
you wouldn't know it from a ways off,
when he's just a soldier standing out
in the field, shoulders hunched, chin tucked
breathin' cold air, but Lord he warm, fierce as the
mistakes he runnin' from--
we both beggin' to be right
or good enough, for the sunlight
to make us into somethin' pretty
somethin' new and shined--
but for now i'm takin' pictures shotgun,
hiding my fingers in my pockets
thinking about the way his voice'd
prolly blow in on the curtains on a
summer's day, and he's singing
My love, is somewhere in that mountain....
my love is somewhere in that mountain
Dec 12, 2016
Dec 12, 2016 at 9:49 PM UTC
I can’t even think to myself anymore, without you comin’ right to my mind.
I’ve gone past the brink, into Hell – shut the door, an’ I’m wonderin’ never to find:
That ignorant bliss that I once so adored, when your sweet face had never been shown.
That brilliant abyss of my world without war an’ my ease with the ebb of its flow.
My pilot is burnin' but I am upturned now, I’m pushin’ the pressure I pull.
My stallin’ an’ swirlin’s a sight for the girl that I’m only at leisure to love.
It’s gotten to grindin’ an’ strikin’ like lightnin’, my heart is as happy as hurt.
I’m often invitin’, enticin’ a likin’, but we’re always back wastin’ words.
But like a bad dream that becomes as you seen it, I’m all but there breathin’ the air.
It’s such a long scene an’ it’s runnin’ on me an’ I’m fallin’ here rattlin’ my worth.
She’s all nature to me, the one shape of beauty, a harp an’ its pillows of string.
The everythin’ through me, her face in the room as an angel that carries a sting.
Lost in the eyes that I ache to revise, I find peace with the play of the light.
Tossed into tides about feelin’ alive, an’ of stealin’ her into the night.
But I’m at a loss, I’m at every mans end, growin’ older than anythin’ can.
She’s all that I’ve got, an’ I have to pretend that she just isn’t holdin’ his hand.
Mar 26, 2012
Mar 26, 2012 at 3:11 PM UTC
Rabo Karabekian said all our souls are neon tubes of light
If that is true
I know mine always flickers
Especially when I am scared
And if you knew Morse code
My soul would flash to you
“LOVE ME”
If you place your hands on my chest
You would see
My heart beats
“FREEDOM”
The broken Braille of the goose bumps
That I get when I am cold
They say
“HOLD ME”
If you were blind
And you
Dragged your hands across the terrain of my face
Every pock mark and scar
Would make you think I was the moon
And when you got to my mouth
Warm from the breath I try to hold
When you’re near me
You’d realize
There really is a man in there
Underneath the warning signs
And flashes of light
When the sounds from the pleads for help stop
And you can finally hear me breathin’
You’ll see the message that I was supposed to give to you
Read what it says on my skin
“Underneath is a man
Who keeps the dark and the stars to his back so he can always face you
Some days his distance feels cruel
Some days his smile is ugly
But his heart
When it’s not beating so hard that it’s beggin’
For freedom
It’s full of love
There is still dust in his lungs
For he does not use his voice much
But he can hold you like a lullaby”
Jul 11, 2011
Jul 11, 2011 at 2:08 AM UTC
I'm at your new girls party
Her arms fold around your body
As I pass by to take a ****
My body, struggling to suppress a hiss
It wasn't supposed to be like this
Her eyes locked on mine
As if to say “you’ve had these times”
I know that, know he's hurtin
Pay no attention, keep slip slurpin
Of course I've had those times
I've seen more than you could fathom
Let him shadow all my shine
These words let loose my inner dragon
Far too long I stayed afloat
Even though I was breathin fire
Gotta find some new ways to cope
Before I end up on a pyre
When are we supposed to let go
I don't think I'll ever know
N what the **** is meant to be anyway
I am a wanderer in an endless maze
The hunts got me slippin away
Slurpin, sippin, slippin away
Nov 13, 2017
Nov 13, 2017 at 1:26 PM UTC
Red eye
Feelin lean up
Ready to sleep
There's a 1000
Things on my mind
Blockin my dreams
Im tryin to smoke
More to keep up
And get me some rest
But responsibility
piles
Up till it sits on
Your chest
I dont know about these lot
But im looking for steps
I aint workin for peanuts
So im lookin ahead
On my back
You see deepcuts
Dagger entrenched
But im a soldier
Keep breathin
And be at your best
See mana been under
Siege while peaking and
There's times i feel
Beat up
By the deeds and the depth
Things that should
Never been done
Start moving ahead
While you're just trying
To keep up
Each reason and check
Feeling like youre in the
Deep end
But your feet are on deck
Is a magical feeling
Till youre cheated instead
And everything youre
Doing is to be in a place
Where you can be
Yourself
But you're losing your
Head.
Jul 10, 2018
Jul 10, 2018 at 10:05 PM UTC
i been to the city but now the city
is gone
i used to walk streets lookin for alleys
where the young lovers were making love
but now the alleys are filled with the garbage
with the ex-soldiers
filled with the drugs
i been to the city but now the city
is gone
an you too
you too
you stopped singin
you stopped breathin
you stopped searchin
you stopped bein
you stopped needin
you now only take
you stopped seeing
you are on the make
i been to your mirror but now your mirror
is broken
you took off your clothes an offered me
one last token
one last token of ...what?
down in your alley
there's only garbage
only ex-soldiers
and angel-dust
cause your pity is gone
an the city is gone
and your breathin is gone
and your song
and your searchin
an gone is your love
--
i been to the city but now the city
is gone
i used to walk streets lookin for alleys
where the young lovers were making love
but now the alleys are filled with the garbage
with the ex-soldiers
filled with the drugs
i been to the city but now the city
is gone
Aug 19, 2010
Aug 19, 2010 at 3:51 PM UTC
There’s a crevice in my heart,
along with an exhausted smile,
Hiding in the darkness, and when
no-one sees, it weeps.
Then you come along, silently,
yet it trembles my world.
My heart was breathin’ so lonely,
now I know this emptiness can’t be fulfilled.
And I stop hatin’, right at the very
moment you look into my eyes.
That’s when I realize, you can’t
have a broken heart without believing in Love.
Time Passes by, Beauty Changes,
Love Faded, and People Die –
You’ll always end up being Alone.
I think you should love me.
Jul 26, 2010
Jul 26, 2010 at 6:02 AM UTC
Saint Patrick died on March 17th.
So we celebrate the day with green and drink.
Patrick, was kidnapped to Ireland as a slave,
a condition he never fully forgot or forgave.
Patty (as he was known by his friends)
was a sober, relentless, devout Christian.
As a missionary, he gallivanted methodically, converting heathens
and if he failed to convert you, you weren’t left breathin’.
He could burn you at the steak for ignoring ‘reason’.
To show Christ’s power, he ‘banished’ the snakes,
It’s amazing, the difference a miracle can make.
The year 461 pre-dated laptops and even the Internet,
so, I think it’s time we finally forgive and even forget
the sad, sordid history of Catholic conversion “therapies”
because today we need a reason to drink until we’re green.
Mar 16, 2023
Mar 16, 2023 at 10:08 PM UTC