"traditionals" poems
the culture cut into our wrists.
feeling all or nothing was the trick.
kurt and elliot were dead,
pretty prescriptions we all wed.
we talked vicious and vague.
it kept our parents afraid.
only bought music if it was recorded in omaha.
quoted lyrics to the traditionals, oh my god.
the corners of every corridor were crammed.
glazed eyes making meaningless, drifting forlorn.
"i feel sad"
"gee, that's awful bad."
if they weren't depressed,
they were called liars.
if they were on anti-depressants,
they were kings.
if they attempted suicide,
they were a pope.
projections we were.
of all the dead words we heard.
May 4, 2010
May 4, 2010 at 8:12 AM UTC
You are a pair of cuffed jeans, a balloon,
Christmas lights in August that make me smile more than the same old December traditionals.
You are the bermuda triangle and endurance.
You are a loose wire in the wall I can't help but touch, exhilarating.
You are halfway hoodies, broken guitar strings,
a lot of dandelions and sometimes daisies.
Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 2:50 PM UTC
Do you got a "type"?
Open mind and kind of wonderful
Hilariously adorable,
Then from Bambi into
Stag stallion king
A FishSparrow or Swallows-full Soul
A fat cloud of spaghetti
Enough for everybody??
Then what the ****
Do you have a preference
A choice free falling
We got given the type of live
Worth living
When life is not enough,
Death is and is at
The door...
It's yours
Choice
Is free wheeling and
Fire sparkling blossoms
Fire just works
Love you light up my
Unforeseen
Regions
Of excellerate not excel
Exemplarl in traditionals lost
Truth seeking honest at all
Cost
The coconuts on that one, as if!
God's kiss
Feeds us
The infinite gifts of
What we do
Unto...
Jun 29, 2017
Jun 29, 2017 at 9:00 PM UTC