Blog Archive

Thursday, October 31, 2013

Hopeful Jibber Jabber

A child like wonder will compel me forward,
Not knowing what each new step will bring,
Unaware of the joys or horrors around any given corner,
Despite myself I will lose myself in fictions,
Created by others or in my own mind,
Seeking solace in friends,
And chasing liberties in my creative spaces,
A decline may occur
But it will not end in any dastardly fashion.
People will holler and dispute the abuses of power,
But I will not let my mind wander much further,
I'm colliding with walls and slicking down my hair,
The gelatin substance that greases down my looks,
Let's my filter the violence through a media machine,
So I can look on without ever participating in said schemes.
Lost in charismatic speeches I will worship the saints,
Then disown the belief in believing the truths of the lie,
And Commit to memory all the tools of the trade,
But no matter the course I will always be child like and in awe,
Uabashed in my serendipitous tones,
Landing my feet squarely against the jaw,
Then, as the teeth fly out, I will smile.
I love the smell of the smells of the smelling organism,
The one that can alter your face and give you smiles when you'd rather have frowns,
That can decipher your falsehoods and bring out simple truths,
That you thought no one cared to see.
Oh, the fairer sex can demonstrate the abundance of beauty,
But cannot destroy me this way,
But I only wish that they could.
So go on and accept calamities.
And dissect your three wishes.
So go on and admit one,
And tear up the second.
No amount of crying will empty all the tears,
The fountain of youth doth burst from sadness,
But what forward momentum can one obtain,
From drowning in their own tears,
For the shore is not far,
It is just over yonder,
under the same yellow sun,
And upon the same green earth.
So step back and breathe it in,
The lilac plants and silly games,
Take the time to listen,
And bless that time,
For it is rare and far between,
To have open ears,
On either side of a head.

Sunday, October 27, 2013

Lament of a Lily Field

A gravely injured butterfly
Flaps its wings over lily fields
Trying in a vain attempt
To salvage itself
With the dust lifted from its wings,
Picked up by infant children,
It is frantic in its final actions,
Waging a war with the air,
A battle that it cannot hope to win,
But still it persists,
Evading all the pitfalls of a lily field.
Somewhere it searches despite itself,
Somewhere to die in peace,
Hoping to evade the scathing pains,
That would leave it in discernible pieces,
Its antennae search the winds above the flowers
But the winds are lying all of the day,
Proving their falsehoods which bash the bug away,
Its too bad for the distance it took to do it,
As the lily's bend and break in distress,
Reaching up in attempt to save it,
The butterfly flaps its wings frantically,
Faintly falling feverishly just beyond its landing
On the other side of a lily field.

A Denouncment of a Discernable Deficit in Denials.

With restless feet I'm shuffling myself to the brink of denial
Testing it out but not partaking of a whole slice
And as the corners crumble into crumbs at my table
I will slide them off with the palm of my hand in to the garbage.
In effect I will destroy my fascinations because I am fit to do so,
Because it was written in my biography that I would
And who am I to deny the truth of the pages.
My denial is the pinnacle of my aptitude,
For I can also do flips for you through flaming hula hoops,
So put away your whips and chains and take a time to think,
What gains will I receive if I burn all my dollars before I can deposit them.
Broke, and crippled between the sofa cushions,
As I scratch for a quarter of a dollar in the last sanctuary I'm aware of.
Tomorrow my denial will be a thousand times the force it is now,
And I will not be able to reckon with the wrecking crew
Who have come to slander my walls and call me out with needles.
In this denial I will drown but for the spacious amount of time it took to see,
I am saved by my own cowardice for I lack certain attributes to make it real.
Now, before the reality sets in I will shuffle away back the way I came,
And I will surmise what can be figured only to have it dropped to the floor,
Where it shatters like already fractured glass,
Gracious children will try to help me put it back together,
But how can I be bothered with the pieces when I hated my antiques so.

Wednesday, October 9, 2013

In a Moment

Volcanic islands emerge in the center of the sea
Formed by fire and rock
Soon the growth arrives
And the grass encompasses everything
But in truth this is not the truth
This is but a lie they told
Turn on your television sets
Let the images float into your brain
And pass right back through
Like a ghost who can not hold himself up with a wall
As the same structure falls upon him
It's not too late to scream for sanctuary
Surely someone can help you through,
But let us not be hasty
There are still islands in the sky
That's what the doctor told me
When he said I was suffering from lies
They are formed by rain and air
They are not sound structures,
But neither is my mind.

Tuesday, October 8, 2013

This Has Always Been A Hopeless Struggle in the Sand Castles

Poised to fall through the floor the ghosts are holding on to the thin of the air
Attempting to break the trends that resulted in them being there
As their bodies fight over pointless and stupid actions
The former of what they were is staring down at the sight of spectacle
It's going to continue to happen just as it's happening
And there is nothing to be done to stop the forward progression
The coyote will yelp and howl in little barks
But the ghosts will still be stranded between the floor boards just two stories up
It's not fair to criticize them for they did not choose to die and be stuck
They tried their hardest to live, but the bodies below were already zombiefied,
Living out the mundane and foolhardy life as though they were still lovers in ecstasy,
When in fact that where undead flesh eating monster thingies,
Former reflections of a poorly kept former self,
So go on and objectify the whole world if it helps you to cope with the images being thrown at you
This scene will remain as it has been
Right under the nose of the social media
Where they alive were lying to the living though dead through the log in and passwords,
That protected their public secrets, 
No longer stuck with themselves having to figure out their own issues,
Now even if they were wrong they could state it just right to get every one to justify their mistake,
So they'd keep on making it, being reinforced by a bunch of idiots,
And be posted quotations,
Because they no longer had original thoughts inside their heads,
It's times like these that the ghosts do not miss,
and as they bare witness to their past aggression,
They look at each other with half cocked smiles of half asses amusement,
And shrug and say what the fuck are we doing here,
Let's just go our own separate ways already,
And that they are sorry.

Monday, October 7, 2013

Stuck, Trapped, Imprisoned

Haphazardly the individual walks between the lines
And oncoming traffic speeds by at 70 times
In his panic he charges left then right,
Trying so hard just so that he might,
Be struck by a speeding truck,
But with his awfully good luck,
He should not have even tried it,
Maybe if one more piece could fit,
But too many times the traffic as whirled by,
And too many times did he believe his lie,
Trying as he could to find the way out,
Instead of just speaking to what it was all about,
In the seasons to come,
When all the parts were at their sum,
He just sat down in the road,
Unable to be burdened by his load,
And there was no one who would destroy him,
He was going to be stuck looking grim.

Tuesday, October 1, 2013

A Nightmare of a Tub

I start the bath but only dip my toe in
I am afraid of a change in the tide 
As skeletal fish do swim against my thigh
As I slowly find myself sinking of my own design
I am ill equipped to master the art of being breathless
Cast into the abyss with a thousand jellyfish kisses
Tormented by the suckers of an octopus
Trying to hold it in, trying not to cause a fuss
One day in the edge of my tub
I see the plug that would spare me thus,
And try as I may, as with all my might,
I am willfully soulfully trying to fight,
The current is sucking me down and back again,
So that I'm tossed and turned and hardly know where to begin,
Urchins are stabbing slowly into my skin,
I'm bleeding out a fog about the bath as I'm drownin'
This is all so inconsistent,
Left toe pulled free of the drink,
I am satisfied and dry,
The wash room is emptied and as I stand their bare,
The sounds of the silence echo in my ear,
As nighttime serenades of ambient noises are all I can hear,
So I look into my blood-free bath,
And I wonder what it was that made me feel so afraid,
Of the creatures that weren't that that never laid
Siege to my extremities,
And never came close to puncturing the inner me,
Somewhere in my soul I know,
It was all just a dream,
But the reflex memory will not let me stay clean.