Sunday, April 19, 2009

it's bleak but i have hope

my patience is the gluestick that binds
the corners lift the middle rips and the paper falls behind
i found the sheet my only treat as the stick takes a second seat
but the glue will grasp again

birds don't know how lucky they are
until their wings are clipped and suddenly the nest is far
some will pray while others lay but most will look the other way
the birds have open eyes

my weakened breath sends out the smoke
from the fire inside you lit when you lied and told me that you tried
i'm thankful to be bright when it feels like an ocean of night
the smoke will disappear

if i add together my love and care
and remove your photo frame i'm the only one to blame
the sum of your thoughts equate to my feeling of loss
math was never my forté

why does the winter world
beat me when i'm down and hold me while i drown
wind as if to taunt and ultimately flaunt the man she doesn't want
it's getting really cold

the plane only flies
because we gave it wings and believed in our dreams
like a failure to grow together through this horrible stormy weather
i think i got confused

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

the animals

i was never really in the deal
muggy air escapes the seal
i'm hopeless when i try to feel

and the animals are buying

the leaking cup is never full
half is enough to help me pull
but hell it iches me like wool

and the animals are dining

and i rip the tree from its root
for it will only bear my fruit
when i sail away within a suit

and the animals are whining

i'm discreetly resting in the sand
my expenditures are always grand
i'm taking off and i'm not manned

and the animals are hiding

the glass floor helps me see my fault
my conscience rules me by default
my icy path without the salt

and the animals are trying

in the black hole i can see the light
i don't exist to do what's right
the intentions clip my wings of flight

and the animals are lying

i'll rip my body limb from limb
these imperfections i will always trim
my foggy eyes are never dim

and the animals are frying

i'm anything but everything
defeated and yet still i sing
it's not the same as ranting

and the animals are crying

i've been first and i've been last
my expired role will be recast
now set the sails i'll run the mast

and the animals are dying

i'm sure they all went buying
and i know they loved the dining
but they never would stop whining
and i found them in their hiding
but at least they all were trying
it didn't help that they were lying
for all together they are frying
i'm the reason they are crying
and i won't help them when they're dying.

Wednesday, April 8, 2009


the hours of absence and abandonment
crushed what was left of that styrofoam cup
disposed of the waste that will always remain
yet lifted me to a higher place

onwards and upwards they say but those lies
will never set the sail on the leaking boat
the anxiety swells and it swells as i cower and dwell
for i hold my esteem on a platter served to your highness

it seems like i point the barrel to my head
with welcoming arms the sorrow holds me under
the bellowing waves and i gasp and i gasp
but i surface in time to see your fucking face

the further you walk the faster i follow
like a wide-eyed child with endless hopes and dreams
yet to be doused as they burn on the side of the road
by a fire you lit with your ignorance

how long can i wait as the days start to blend
and the night hides the day and the colors are gone
the only relief i can feel is severed when i wake ripped from my hands
but at least it sculpts a miserable smile from your broken mouth

i can finally release and complete
the delerious art underneath the stage
as you unwillingly perform your final cherade
i will burst through the ground and take what's mine

give me a random hello i want the chance to say no
for once i will thrust you away and not stay if i may
hold you back while you enter my head instead of a son
you were never the one

yet here i stand a man with no plan as the fan that i ran
aims the air that i breathe through your perfect hair and around
the skin that i long to explore like the bottoms of oceans
and the valuable words you utter behind locked closed doors

if i hold you in my arms my intentions will force
the great collapse and divide and i'll finally succumb
to your luring force which strips my freedom to be
and my mobility sees that nothing is free and there is no we

Thursday, April 2, 2009


this is me in my prime
and i've got lots of time
it's really important
my fickle task
and you'll never ask
repeating and constant
dissolving the grime
this is me in my prime

the clouds break as if for the first time
it's blurry, not tangible and hanging on a line
a gust caresses it and helps it away
my mind follows but my body, it will stay

they travel on four and have it all right
rest in the shade and bask in the bright
let go of themselves yet hold on to their form
we think they're askew and not of the norm

the presence of decay does not worry me
the absence of beauty negates my will to be
a genuine care told by your handshake
can attempt to heal, resurrect and alleviate

one-fourth there, i reflect
and savor the faces i tried to collect
i can only be the sum of my parts
broken skin and an antimatter heart

Thursday, March 26, 2009

... the words that don't do you justice

i must be dreaming
it's too perfect of a day
how can something so
beautiful exist
look at that
sideways smile
monday misery disappears
complete peace
on your face
a prettier picture never painted
the sun tries to
warm me up
my heart's already beaming

we can be happy people too

to feel you on the outside
eases my battered joints
to feel you on the inside
lights the monotony of life
something to
care for now
responsibilty without burden
we finally
see the world
those colors weren't there before
the image in
my mind's eye
perfection without description

we can be happy people too

Sunday, March 22, 2009

those colors weren't there before

i wonder how many anxious words

have been blocked by the intimidating force of the blinking cursor. it's fully possible to stare at it for an hour and not bring yourself to say a thing.

i wonder how many broken hearts

were a direct result of overcoming the fear of the cursor. actually expressing one's self with full responsibility behind one's words.

i wonder what is right, what is just and what is possible. i wonder why our indecisive minds inhibit our happiness. i wonder why we long for something that may never be. i wonder why something that fits the description of a cartoon can change it all. i wonder why we gave something so torturous to us such a dainty name. i wonder why we hold out-

but then again, i wonder why i have so many questions.

Saturday, March 21, 2009

dance on my grave; you are allowed.

a fleck

of dry skin flies off me and into the air. after a few twisty turns, it ends up in a garbage can. the garbage is taken out, and the sanitary engineers collect it. at this point, it's a crapshoot. no one really knows where it will end up exactly, i guess they have the zoning charts. by now the fleck is more or less gone; having mixed with the different juices found in garbage, it's almost not there. but i see it.

the "juice" enters the ground, and as all water sources are interconnected, it ends up in the ocean. by now the fleck is seen only on the particle level. like air, it no longer has any physical properties, tangible or visual.

water evaporates.

our little fleck, smaller (much smaller) than it used to be, is now flying again. it droops and sways and twirls. continuously rising, it hits the atmosphere, the ozone. our friend, the fleck (or speck by now... yes, he will be the speck from now on) has somehow ridden the coattails of matter up up and away into space. it's very cold for a speck of flesh, but on the molecular level, it doesn't seem to matter much. time doesn't exist for a speck in space, so let's jump a few hundred years.

our speck has reached pluto. is it still pluto? i think it's a moon now, with a numerical name. anyway, the speck is dwarfed by this planet, but heck, he was dwarfed by a blade of grass on his home planet. so insignificant, now, is the speck, relative to pluto.

the thing about pluto is, relative to our home star, it's a miserable fucking speck too. and the sun is a miserable fucking speck in comparison to the whole fucking galaxy, and the galaxy is a fucking shitstain on the undergarment that is the universe.

but the speck matters to me.

Friday, March 20, 2009

my heart's already beaming

A wants B

B wants C

C wants D

D wants A

it's not that B doesn't want A, it just... wants C. the same applies to the rest.

it's a good thing letters don't have feelings.

disneyland in the clouds

you know when you catch yourself zoning out?

when- mentally -you ride your little unicorn off into the horizon?

well i catch myself doing that a lot recently. i don't know why or how, i just slip into it and it takes a while to come back. i think i like it though, it gives a different perspective on things. suddenly you forget about time and you just have this mess of clouded thoughts existing at the very same time. cool beans.

i wonder what living in this other world would be like, i mean, we all know it exists.

we should go there, build houses, and live in a timeless mess of mangled beauty.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

a movie where everyone lives


we have this pretty song, i have a pretty melody but

no words.

i don't know exactly how to put my feelings into it, i know exactly what i want to say.
words, the letters that form them are so limited in expressing feelings.

i know exactly what i want to say.

'we can be happy people too' is the hope i have. it's a hope that regardless of the situation you're in, you can be happy.

... it's a weird stance coming from a pessimist.