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"distortion" poems
Come, they shout against the light No reality within their words Nor is there any distortion behind it Afar from unreality Adieu they bid to us Accept your fate, our loved one And so it comes back to bite you
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Jun 29, 2014
Jun 29, 2014 at 1:58 AM UTC
Corruption
im a self describing a self a face on a liquid surface a plasticity a brain a three pound infinity always remodeling itself and making new copies a copy of a copy of a copy a massive  accumulation of copies each a slight distortion from it's original eminence a history of minute alterations all subtle deceptions my so-called reality a memory of a memory of a memory a repetition pouring the self out self corrupting the self until it is somebody else a fibbing shifty double-dealing soft machine trying to remain intact it's signature a disjunctured awareness my cells talk **** about each other i'm more microbes than human every synaptic light of the divine casting a shadowed past a devil to the true origin a mangled remembering my pillar of reality spirit from matter not the other way around i no longer recognize myself am i human or perhaps a robot an alien a walk in that left the original inhabitant disembodied to wander perplexed in a netherworld lost and crying or, just a bad copy of a copy of a copy of a co py of a a co
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Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 2:46 PM UTC
*Copycat
In the Midnight heaven's burning Through the ethereal deeps afar Once I watch'd with restless yearning An alluring aureate star; Ev'ry eve aloft returning Gleaming nigh the Arctic Car. Mystic waves of beauty blended With the gorgeous golden rays Phantasies of bliss descended In a myrrh'd Elysian haze. In the lyre-born chords extended Harmonies of Lydian lays. And (thought I) lies scenes of pleasure, Where the free and blessed dwell, And each moment bears a treasure, Freighted with the lotos-spell, And there floats a liquid measure From the lute of Israfel. There (I told myself) were shining Worlds of happiness unknown, Peace and Innocence entwining By the Crowned Virtue's throne; Men of light, their thoughts refining Purer, fairer, than my own. Thus I mus'd when o'er the vision Crept a red delirious change; Hope dissolving to derision, Beauty to distortion strange; Hymnic chords in weird collision, Spectral sights in endless range…. Crimson burn'd the star of madness As behind the beams I peer'd; All was woe that seem'd but gladness Ere my gaze with Truth was sear'd; Cacodaemons, mir'd with madness, Through the fever'd flick'ring leer'd…. Now I know the fiendish fable The the golden glitter bore; Now I shun the spangled sable That I watch'd and lov'd before; But the horror, set and stable, Haunts my soul forevermore!
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13.2k
Astrophobos
Life and non-Life are part of a system-- a "system-like" system, but one nonetheless. Where Entropy's that which is hidden from us-- and Information without meaning is total chaos. But hold. Poets, Bards & Thieves. Of shame, of game, of blame, they speak of secrets on the leaves. In more or less a drunken mess, their simmered shimmered consciousness could barely rarely quite express what causes them to grieve. After some hesitation and liquid persuasion, the only collusion this final conclusion: *Pain is entropic; Extra-sensory stimulation received as distortion via sensory limitations-- Confusing the mind refusing the signs, forcing us to shutter the blinds. But what is behind? Unveil pain's curtain and what do we find? Contextualisation, possible causation-- Mind-Body integration without hesitation-- palpable, abstract Information dissemination!*
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Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 12:05 PM UTC
Entropy Reduction Units (or Poets, Bards & Thieves)
Sinking To a familiar imprint in the sand Salt traffic jams Shark teeth and flared nostrils Fingers numb Curled around the trigger Cannot let go. But through the noise Ripples Quadratic equations I see a blurred sunset It feels like the day we first met.
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Jul 2, 2013
Jul 2, 2013 at 12:54 AM UTC
Distortion
And in the end, You begin to realize who your true friends are. The ones who stand by your side Through thick and thin Trial, error, and sin. In this day and age, Not many stand the chance In nomination For the sacrificial commencement of honour. Nature plays its part indeed. Because it is only in time The veil is lifted. Root by root, Seed by seed. Humanity reveal their true colors. Next thing you know, You've been cursed by a plague. A whole school of fish Swimming to discover their own island. That is only for thyself. You've been contaminated By the human race. Look at the social media blow up. The narcissistic selfies, The I, me, my's, Gaining daily acceptance All in disguise. The public audience is their show. It's needed for everyday approval. Nobody really cares about you It's all about "Look at me!" "Look what I can do!" "You are so cool." "Thumbs up to you!" I'm going to abuse the word "love." Forget the hoopla Here today Gone tomorrow. Everyone feeding off of Self loathing attention. There is no more room for pitiful sorrow. Truth is Sheep lie among the prey Victims... Don't be another "Nodding Acquaintance" A distortion of the facts. Don't get fooled. Not by social grace Not by exploitation of the face. You'll just be a bargain commodity, For their convenience. Stand true True to yourself Because in the end, Nobody else really cares.
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Jul 22, 2016
Jul 22, 2016 at 10:07 PM UTC
Social Science
Delayed response to ground control, oh how I was crying. In retrospect, I was just shallow; like an astronaut only watching himself as the rest of the world kept steadily spinning. Impersonal up here, never caring about winning or losing. The star charts that mentors showed lost to what my mind followed, A winding path through this sacred space which I unhallowed. I didn't flinch at blastoff; it wasn't bravery, it was me being a coward. Sweating in a far away bed, steel round walls with no decoration, Straining my mind fighting the moments of suffocation. Spots in my vision, distortion and discoloration. Seeing stars I glimpsed my comet on exhibition. I would have to come back around. It was just a matter of my rotation. Retrospect from ages back and to beyond where we will have gone. Black holes made that can never be filled, endless they came, endless they will come. To touch down in glory, or stay on the run. Life is just a rocket that departs from the sun. The rest isn't lost, it just hasn't been done. So as we eventually drift into deep space and age becomes our dawn, remember to look out the window and wave to the passerby's. They will cheer you on.
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Jan 6, 2016
Jan 6, 2016 at 1:17 AM UTC
Rockets, Comets, And The Stars Between Them All
Listen to my words the kids they going crazy Getting locked up All they can clutch, Miranda rights at the same time alright Miranda writes Our thoughts put to paper Play it out on the stage Never know the difference Its a turn of the page Some use their bullets some wield a knife Others preach the dollar Is How they take our lives Grab you by the collar And break you down with lies Don't matter what your searching Only what you find This is our misfortune Blinded by distortion Someday we might wake up As we struggle to align You cannot be free all that blood in your eyes Round and round in circles A place I call my home Just a lonely misfit With the strength of a stone Wonder round these valleys While you sit upon your throne Sometimes it's hard to admit The scale of this dismay Indeed we are alone Some use their writing The bullet is a pen I killed oppression Does that mean That I'm insane I killed oppression What's left to be? waiting in vain I killed oppression a fury made of fire Brought down all the people We were never equal I killed oppression Standing on the sun The flames You can keep em They killed oppression Shot it right between the eyes Third, you may see Lead you to your destiny They killed oppression Look at the world Crumble let it be No one really cares About the people No one really cares About the people They killed oppression The wars about a dollar Corporate oversight Disguise pain with laughter Gotta feed the horde Seduction is their nature They killed oppression Read between the lines They. Have drawn for you, as We **** oppression
0
Dec 29, 2017
Dec 29, 2017 at 11:44 AM UTC
WE **** OPPRESSION
Listen to my words the kids they going crazy Getting locked up All they can clutch, Miranda rights at the same time alright Miranda writes Our thoughts put to paper Play it out on the stage Never know the difference Its a turn of the page Some use their bullets some wield a knife Others preach the dollar Is How they take our lives Grab you by the collar And break you down with lies Don't matter what your searching Only what you find This is our misfortune Blinded by distortion Someday we might wake up As we struggle to align You cannot be free all that blood in your eyes Round and round in circles A place I call my home Just a lonely misfit With the strength of a stone Wonder round these valleys While you sit upon your throne Sometimes it's hard to admit The scale of this dismay Indeed we are alone Some use their writing The bullet is a pen I killed oppression Does that mean That I'm insane I killed oppression What's left to be? waiting in vain I killed oppression a fury made of fire Brought down all the people We were never equal I killed oppression Standing on the sun The flames You can keep em They killed oppression Shot it right between the eyes Third, you may see Lead you to your destiny They killed oppression Look at the world Crumble let it be No one really cares About the people No one really cares About the people They killed oppression The wars about a dollar Corporate oversight Disguise pain with laughter Gotta feed the horde Seduction is their nature They killed oppression Read between the lines They. Have drawn for you, as We **** oppression
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72
Between stolen kisses The hits and misses We create ourselves this distorted image of what we deserve This façade to aid our acceptance this thing we use to find any remanence Of self confidence that has been ripped away leaving our self importance at bay Our own distortion of inner meaning unable to see what and who we deserve The nerve Of ourselves saying we don't deserve the best and that we deserve everything less than the most it's not fair, how being imperfect makes you believe you're some how defective and its not fair that when we get caught in a place with dont belong with someone we don't belong with The only possible reasoning being that We accept the love we think we deserve but you deserve the best So accept it.
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Feb 12, 2013
Feb 12, 2013 at 9:53 PM UTC
We Accept The Love We Think We Deserve
Splitting the sea, The wind I feel, keeps crossing over time, clearing the path between a sea of truth and lies, revealing what was hidden within such misery, Amongst an ocean of common sense, opens the true pathway, Cross it, by the miracle created in the dearness you held so close, Caught within the border of life and death, you cannot be swept away Don't be built on sand, the one you are walking on, wet, fragile and likely to fall apart within the barriers of water, pillars rising up to you, yet there is no need to worry, have faith, your transience remains Distortion, clouded within judgement of two sides which only one is righteous about, oh how trecious, lies cannot win a long run yet try to mislead and falsify the facts of life for ones owns benefits and needs, The truth however, may be harsh and hard to take, yet has a sweeter taste than the best lie given, even though, you may end up deserted. Those liars, they chase after you for not following them, yet when the sea collapses they surely will drown in the reigns of the truthful water Looking at what I desire to accomplish, is to break the boundaries with this miraculous wind, be carried away, softly, gently swaying, Carrying my wings, fighting on until the moment when I should fall, Until the moment this path is overtaken by the ocean again ~ Umi
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Apr 20, 2018
Apr 20, 2018 at 6:01 PM UTC
Split Ocean
Dear, let me startle you by slinking my hand into your smart, ethical decisions while I touch quite gently ripping to shreds your photon ends. Dear, let me caress your supple virtues and vows until they blow out of proportion merging your interests with mine like the longing of eyes uncanny in its distortion. Dear, let me rip off your clothes as I grip your tight notions ideas slipping carefully into place like a sterile, unflinching blank slate inching towards computed devotion. Dear, let me carry out some foreplay as long as you bend, not break, delightfully stroking the edge of your plate. Dear, let me come so close to your face so close that it becomes blurry. Where are my glasses in all this flurry? Of feelings resembling photo reels on fire shooting flames out the window beyond everything you’ve ever known; beyond anything you desire. Dear, let me kiss you to submission, your brain waves in motion as I twist and slip into them hormones ablaze lighting up for days your synapses recapturing in a binocular haze. Dear, let me flop on top of you like a floppy disk, uploading your lips into my hardrive. Do I make you hard as fire? Slowing burning my hot fingers curling up your robust spine cracking it into chiropractor sublime. Massaging your tired broad shoulders like large sofa ends. Is this keyboard only made for pretend? Dear, let me mind **** you take you and light you brighten your screen uphold and unseen neurons fighting as I whisper ***** words directly into the folds of your tulip ears too large to hear, and Dear, let me engage my rage into a productive haze bolting out words, unheard of for days. Dear, let us become undone together like the battery of a computer rebooting after a hectic hardware phase. Dear, let us breathe and walk through this maze.
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Nov 7, 2015
Nov 7, 2015 at 11:33 AM UTC
Mind ****
Dear, let me startle you by slinking my hand into your smart, ethical decisions while I touch quite gently ripping to shreds your photon ends. Dear, let me caress your supple virtues and vows until they blow out of proportion merging your interests with mine like the longing of eyes uncanny in its distortion. Dear, let me rip off your clothes as I grip your tight notions ideas slipping carefully into place like a sterile, unflinching blank slate inching towards computed devotion. Dear, let me carry out some foreplay as long as you bend, not break, delightfully stroking the edge of your plate. Dear, let me come so close to your face so close that it becomes blurry. Where are my glasses in all this flurry? Of feelings resembling photo reels on fire shooting flames out the window beyond everything you’ve ever known; beyond anything you desire. Dear, let me kiss you to submission, your brain waves in motion as I twist and slip into them hormones ablaze lighting up for days your synapses recapturing in a binocular haze. Dear, let me flop on top of you like a floppy disk, uploading your lips into my hardrive. Do I make you hard as fire? Slowing burning my hot fingers curling up your robust spine cracking it into chiropractor sublime. Massaging your tired broad shoulders like large sofa ends. Is this keyboard only made for pretend? Dear, let me mind **** you take you and light you brighten your screen uphold and unseen neurons fighting as I whisper ***** words directly into the folds of your tulip ears too large to hear, and Dear, let me engage my rage into a productive haze bolting out words, unheard of for days. Dear, let us become undone together like the battery of a computer rebooting after a hectic hardware phase. Dear, let us breathe and walk through this maze.
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58
She stared at her thighs, Tears streaming her face, Wanting to hide, In an isolated place. Fatter and fatter, They grew and grew, Before her eyes, Yet nobody knew. The pain she felt, As she watched her reflection, Searching around her, Wanting protection. Her heart starts to bleed, And her bones start to wither, Her skin loses colour, She continues to shiver. The person inside her, Causing these thoughts, Distort her reality, And need to be caught. She has an illness, A serious one too, So please don't ignore it, Cause next could be you. So let's raise awareness, Of these devils inside, Let's hunt them down, Leaving nowhere to hide. Reach out your hand, Come on, speak out, We will beat this together, Lets scream and shout-- To victory at last! Its been a long time coming, So many lost lives, But we're no longer running. E.M Pearson
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Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 4:26 PM UTC
Distortion
*New damage new separation and stitching awaits sealing and new union.. Knife and fork breaking bread for inner rising in new strength.. Surgery on high removed a rib Eve's attraction urges re-joining.. A line reading linear distortion yearns for whole in-sight.. Surgery creates and stimulates a New Day...*
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Feb 22, 2014
Feb 22, 2014 at 5:47 PM UTC
Surgery
Organic Simili Samba Orchestra Electronica Writing TV, Watching Music Reality Distortion Field It Becomes Like Another World Giant Gutter from Outer Space Artificial Intelligence Intergalactic Existence - Open Gates of Ancient Knowledge Archetypal Architecture Low Resolution Universe Dark Pineapples & Chocolate New Operative Perspective Unbreakable Circuits of Love Dance the Spiral Never Ending And the Colours Made the Earth Sing
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Feb 1, 2019
Feb 1, 2019 at 7:20 AM UTC
Twisted Sounds & Stomping Rythms
Girl, you're already A walking genocide. Armed with your  favorite prescription and all the reasons why you wanna escape the inside With a bomb strapped and wire tapped to your heart beat to the only constant of grace that you stepped out of in the stutters you gait Steady your impulses girl you don't need another slip-up some emotional trigger Blowing you  out of proportion out of your body  The one you were  never comfortable with From what you saw should be beauty the red herring of reality distortion the magazines the billboards the Goddess abortion
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Oct 9, 2013
Oct 9, 2013 at 3:02 PM UTC
Walking Genocide
Her orchards I often dream, buries of my eye, lost in my fairy book of beaten pages, of sunken tears and of mind. I kept turning the pages, racing, racing, looking for her, between the lines, now gone, gone ... are those lovely high hanging trees, elegant and so berried, swaying and smiling, her, her saintly smile, haunting, yet shadowing me forever in my mind. Each page turned, a sad tear falls deep and deeper, for the pages are blank. Her absence ferreting out blackness, skeletons and silhouettes, the pages turning, weeping ... my heart pains for the book of love unwritten and unfinished. The wishing well of ink unspent. Her essence forever corked from my heart ... I now lay arrest, peas in a pod, aberration and distortion, for lovely those high hanging trees, elegant and so berried, gone. Sullenly the music plays to a different song. Indelible was happenstance, our chance encounter, a special one at that, puzzlement lays a longer shadow ... of why she walked, without any words. Logan Robertson 11/09/17
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Nov 9, 2017
Nov 9, 2017 at 7:35 PM UTC
She Gave Me An Apple And Left
Stare out blankly Focus on the dots Violets and blues dancing across the walls As I perfect the art Of actually caring Disillusionment in action Distortion at Its utmost perfection As the eyes see Only what they want to see
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Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 9:32 PM UTC
Disillusionment
Push back that limp piece of hair behind the thinness of your ears and look at yourself full on, no make-up, or mask, or paint or picture just DNA, yours. I see waves of songs and lyrics attached to flesh, can you hear it? That transcendental vocal like a babies cry and a mother tender eye, a demise too immortal for human opinion. But I know you hear it too, the other sound of lies that are inescapable and so pungent it turns milk sour and crushes noses you take small bites, and pretend to dance as you listen to that melody as if it was truth but darling its not truth, for the acne scars, and full lips, the birthmarks and stolen hips, flat chest, and dent of skin, is beautiful to me cause I see what's flowing from within
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Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 9:06 AM UTC
Body distortion
Dear, let me startle you by slinking my hand into your smart, ethical decisions while I touch quite gently ripping to shreds your photon ends. Dear, let me caress your supple virtues and vows until they blow out of proportion merging your interests with mine like the longing of eyes uncanny in its distortion. Dear, let me rip off your clothes as I grip your tight notions ideas slipping carefully into place like a sterile, unflinching blank slate inching towards computed devotion. Dear, let me carry out some foreplay as long as you bend, not break, delightfully stroking the edge of your plate. Dear, let me come so close to your face so close that it becomes blurry. Where are my glasses in all this flurry? Of feelings resembling photo reels on fire shooting flames out the window beyond everything you’ve ever known; beyond anything you desire. Dear, let me kiss you to submission, your brain waves in motion as I twist and slip into them hormones ablaze lighting up for days your synapses recapturing in a binocular haze. Dear, let me flop on top of you like a floppy disk, uploading your lips into my hardrive. Do I make you hard as fire? Slowing burning my hot fingers curling up your robust spine cracking it into chiropractor sublime. Massaging your tired broad shoulders like large sofa ends. Is this keyboard only made for pretend? Dear, let me mind **** you take you and light you brighten your screen uphold and unseen neurons fighting as I whisper ***** words directly into the folds of your tulip ears too large to hear, and Dear, let me engage my rage into a productive haze bolting out words, unheard of for days. Dear, let us become undone together like the battery of a computer rebooting after a hectic hardware phase. Dear, let us breathe and walk through this maze.
0
Apr 24, 2018
Apr 24, 2018 at 10:49 AM UTC
Mind ****
Dear, let me startle you by slinking my hand into your smart, ethical decisions while I touch quite gently ripping to shreds your photon ends. Dear, let me caress your supple virtues and vows until they blow out of proportion merging your interests with mine like the longing of eyes uncanny in its distortion. Dear, let me rip off your clothes as I grip your tight notions ideas slipping carefully into place like a sterile, unflinching blank slate inching towards computed devotion. Dear, let me carry out some foreplay as long as you bend, not break, delightfully stroking the edge of your plate. Dear, let me come so close to your face so close that it becomes blurry. Where are my glasses in all this flurry? Of feelings resembling photo reels on fire shooting flames out the window beyond everything you’ve ever known; beyond anything you desire. Dear, let me kiss you to submission, your brain waves in motion as I twist and slip into them hormones ablaze lighting up for days your synapses recapturing in a binocular haze. Dear, let me flop on top of you like a floppy disk, uploading your lips into my hardrive. Do I make you hard as fire? Slowing burning my hot fingers curling up your robust spine cracking it into chiropractor sublime. Massaging your tired broad shoulders like large sofa ends. Is this keyboard only made for pretend? Dear, let me mind **** you take you and light you brighten your screen uphold and unseen neurons fighting as I whisper ***** words directly into the folds of your tulip ears too large to hear, and Dear, let me engage my rage into a productive haze bolting out words, unheard of for days. Dear, let us become undone together like the battery of a computer rebooting after a hectic hardware phase. Dear, let us breathe and walk through this maze.
Continue reading...
58
A world of distortion Without time flowing anymore With broken gravity which does not really keep you on the floor There are no directions, up is down, left could be right There is no moon, or sun to shine bright, Just clouds, which seem to orbit this place, In a beautiful blue they keep their little race, It is a world with not much sense Is it where dimensions are overleaping ? No matter how bizzare it might be, It is beautiful none the less to see, How a bunch of chaos can end up so well, But be careful, don't mistep, it would be a shame if you fell After all I don't think this world has a bottom, You might just land on an floating island and.. Never mind what I was about to say Let us just enjoy this place and our stay, Together as lovers ~ Umi
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Feb 4, 2018
Feb 4, 2018 at 1:28 AM UTC
A world of distortion
It burns in the heart Of eighth grade girls Sparkles like diamonds In the watery eyes of the poor It is born, kicking and screaming In toddlers, before they can speak It slowly dies and sputters Out in old age It is the bite and growl In the dog fight The motionless upper lip Of botoxed trophy wives It is the stacked and ripped Bicep of the body builder The clenched back teeth Of every smiling presidential candidate It resides in the pits Of the stomachs of the second place The money in the pockets Of realtors It is the fight to the top The never give in The blood boiling revenge in Every made-for-TV movie It is the Red, White and Blue Blood, pumping through Our country
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Oct 3, 2012
Oct 3, 2012 at 5:24 PM UTC
Jealousy (a distortion of Mueller's "hope")
I hate the distortion of what we are right now I hate not knowing who we are and where we're going as a whole as a tribe of lost souls but I can't dwell in the dream that we're all meant for something greater this is all we're given, so why pretend there's anything better? You're not abstract you're not hyper intelligent and I would rather deliver a gory blow to your face than endure another profound hypothesis I just want to feel something physical for my skin hunger to be satisfied I just want to improve something miserable for my existence to go to the wayside it's not there we're all here so let's go outside, please and get some ******* fresh air
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Jun 5, 2011
Jun 5, 2011 at 8:00 AM UTC
verb
If you give me long enough I could paint a vivid portrait of myself with every blemish and pore behind a brush, and hush the voices that would criticize unsubscribe and dance it up over in wonderland with the sycophants put on my bedazzled pants let the local singles know I'm a dancer just a beating heart away From being another square upon a lattice a writhing mass of hair gel and cologne working up the ladder to fuckboi status Imma walk the line between a marble arch eclipsing the sun over an angel statue kneeling in prayer and a black leather boot clad bad *** with bad habits but he's so cool he doesn't care Look at him go all on his own with only a thousand or so, little paintings   that are equally as photo shopped or filtered just floating around waiting to see the show and letting other people know they liked it or not What a spectacle destined to leave us senseless and restless what a test of the patience to be a slave to the masses to see my juxtaposition against the rest of the best of us and think "I should go with clever with glasses." What a brutal twist of civilized life to have an AI made for driving my car so I can shimmy down and sneak another **** pic THROUGH SPACE, to some guy who works at taco bell's wife Laura something or something I'm so social What a medium, Exchanging ideas, and hunting body heat from out of the ether, to have the pleasing distortion of the speakers drowning out all the wearisome noise of our contortions "You gotta learn to love yourself" She says, and posts another photo buried somewhere under 60 layers of dog noses and rainbows, and angel wings Oh **** this isn't boyfriend material let me change some things - You don't ever need to change girl, there ain't anything, in this world That I wouldn't do, to be with you. And the Brief exchanges we had, didn't reveal any red flags, that I am willing to skip on *** over. So somewhere down the line, when the filters start to fade, we'll just kick that can down the road, and neither of us will change. And the picture's that we painted of our Love will degrade.
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Nov 28, 2018
Nov 28, 2018 at 12:29 AM UTC
Social Romance
If you give me long enough I could paint a vivid portrait of myself with every blemish and pore behind a brush, and hush the voices that would criticize unsubscribe and dance it up over in wonderland with the sycophants put on my bedazzled pants let the local singles know I'm a dancer just a beating heart away From being another square upon a lattice a writhing mass of hair gel and cologne working up the ladder to fuckboi status Imma walk the line between a marble arch eclipsing the sun over an angel statue kneeling in prayer and a black leather boot clad bad *** with bad habits but he's so cool he doesn't care Look at him go all on his own with only a thousand or so, little paintings   that are equally as photo shopped or filtered just floating around waiting to see the show and letting other people know they liked it or not What a spectacle destined to leave us senseless and restless what a test of the patience to be a slave to the masses to see my juxtaposition against the rest of the best of us and think "I should go with clever with glasses." What a brutal twist of civilized life to have an AI made for driving my car so I can shimmy down and sneak another **** pic THROUGH SPACE, to some guy who works at taco bell's wife Laura something or something I'm so social What a medium, Exchanging ideas, and hunting body heat from out of the ether, to have the pleasing distortion of the speakers drowning out all the wearisome noise of our contortions "You gotta learn to love yourself" She says, and posts another photo buried somewhere under 60 layers of dog noses and rainbows, and angel wings Oh **** this isn't boyfriend material let me change some things - You don't ever need to change girl, there ain't anything, in this world That I wouldn't do, to be with you. And the Brief exchanges we had, didn't reveal any red flags, that I am willing to skip on *** over. So somewhere down the line, when the filters start to fade, we'll just kick that can down the road, and neither of us will change. And the picture's that we painted of our Love will degrade.
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60
There is a state of existence,                                                  where a person is neither A nor B he's inbetween-- he's the addition, the subtraction, the shove and retraction,                                                  I've spent my life "+"ing and "-"ing building empires of handshakes, floating from bar to bar with drinking pals, crowbarring ice off queens of black venom,                                                  I'm the distortion in the middle, but I can't see the end-- I never promised answers, but the soft hands, the wet eye'd, and the widows cry out for closure,                                                  I get edgy and the "+"ing turns to "x"ing Instead of answers-- I take the As and Bs, I inhale their the white-knuckle moments, I simmer in their fading passion, I glide through their dying beds, Instead of clear answers--                                                 A x B x A x B x A x B x A x B = (unfamiliarperfume, missingherwedding, socialnetworkwindowshopping, backroom, thestoplight, theschoolzone, dirtylaundry, rejectedphonecalls, hisgirlfriend, herboyfriend, hisboyfriend, hergirlfriend, otherwives, otherhusbands, blackout, clenchedfist, animmatureandirresponsibleflirtationwithaddiction, howlingatthemoon, gettingoffonthepast, leaveherinthenursinghome, makingthewake, mowingthegrass, droppingthebouquet, tooold, tooyoung, toolate, toosoon, toosweet, toocruel, toofat, toothin, toonosy, toodistant, toobad) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------                                                                       Best Laid Plans               And in the grey of early morning, they look at the equation, they look at the proposed solution, and inevitably the As and the Bs say to me, "Now, simplify it." I get edgy I get edgy I get edgy.
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May 12, 2012
May 12, 2012 at 3:19 AM UTC
+ and -
There is a state of existence,                                                  where a person is neither A nor B he's inbetween-- he's the addition, the subtraction, the shove and retraction,                                                  I've spent my life "+"ing and "-"ing building empires of handshakes, floating from bar to bar with drinking pals, crowbarring ice off queens of black venom,                                                  I'm the distortion in the middle, but I can't see the end-- I never promised answers, but the soft hands, the wet eye'd, and the widows cry out for closure,                                                  I get edgy and the "+"ing turns to "x"ing Instead of answers-- I take the As and Bs, I inhale their the white-knuckle moments, I simmer in their fading passion, I glide through their dying beds, Instead of clear answers--                                                 A x B x A x B x A x B x A x B = (unfamiliarperfume, missingherwedding, socialnetworkwindowshopping, backroom, thestoplight, theschoolzone, dirtylaundry, rejectedphonecalls, hisgirlfriend, herboyfriend, hisboyfriend, hergirlfriend, otherwives, otherhusbands, blackout, clenchedfist, animmatureandirresponsibleflirtationwithaddiction, howlingatthemoon, gettingoffonthepast, leaveherinthenursinghome, makingthewake, mowingthegrass, droppingthebouquet, tooold, tooyoung, toolate, toosoon, toosweet, toocruel, toofat, toothin, toonosy, toodistant, toobad) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------                                                                       Best Laid Plans               And in the grey of early morning, they look at the equation, they look at the proposed solution, and inevitably the As and the Bs say to me, "Now, simplify it." I get edgy I get edgy I get edgy.
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