Blog Archive

Monday, December 30, 2013

Saying What You Will

Why do you pester me with long passages of melodrama
When you could have easily summed it up easily
If only you'd taken a breath and used a little brevity
However; as this is your comatose state
I will not judge you for not finding the words
When at first you don't succeed as they say
Whoever they are we do not know

Gladly I disembark from your cluttered vessel
And sail among an ocean of disappointments 
Where seldom people ever find solace
But they find a way to be content
Even if for an eve or two
While the stars bow down their weary heads
And hold the hands of the children's hearts
Where your words are worthless when storms are brewing
The masses are terribly unsure what you're doing

While these waters toss me hitherto
I cannot in good faith let the gods of my feelings rule me
Nor can i falter in my steps because doubt rules me
the good will has passed and god will do what he will with me
For in these endings it is always on a selfish whim
That i cry out, "Save me, just me, me first, me, me me."
And where i shout these is a place your voice won't carry
In a kaleidoscope of colors
You will see through a magnifying glass
That which I see with my naked eyes
Though i wish they were clothed with spectacles.


Tuesday, December 24, 2013

Wholly Unruly

The main thing to consider when choosing your side
Is whether or not it will make you destitute or not
Perhaps when finishing your decision you will come to the conclusion
That not everyone thinks the way that you do
It is enough to make your heart and nerves to grieve
When the friends that you possess choose to throw away your keys
And like you in an unruly ultimatum
Though the woods lead to fears that will cause the fearless to quake and cower
For blessed is the man who can kiss his dreams goodbye


Saturday, December 21, 2013

The Song of a Degenerate Prick

If by some miracle the noise never settles
and we are blasted on cocaine and Ecstasy
if the internal police can't restrain us
and we are spiraling out of control
If by some wrong doing we find a little peace
Then don't allow us to be subjugated any longer
Then the shackles of decency fade from memory
in the very weary world that bound us as children
It will be business as usual
As angel powder feeds through my mind
Miles a minute, in a minute or three
Given a time to persuade our better judgement
Letting it shrink down in my size
And silencing only the conscience from regurgitating
Our meat.
If this is the loudest it can go
Build a new box of sounds
that can excel only to the maximum threshold
To cause a hint of deafness
i will not answer your phone calls,
Nor will i limit myself to phone calls,
If you need to reach me after a beep
You have no reason to be here
Enter freely and at your own risk
Let the windfall be of your own devising
To live fast and dangerously is a gift
So if you choose your world on the back of a horse cart
move to the other side of the street
i will bypass you and plow through pedestrians on my way to the middle
Given that I'll never see the top because
As i have no second sight
i forgot to pack for a rock climbing expedition
So excuse me while I'm driving
and your dead and gone
I'll recite the pledge of allegiance
only  to the alien masses
And when they pull me out of my hotel room on a gurney
Already half dead and half spiteful that they tried to save me
I'll thank the gods for their are more than one
I'll thank the gods of excess, sex and devastation
For to feel this pain was to feel alive
and to be alive is to not give two shits
No matter what calmer minds have said
they were only at ten percent capacity
Give up the fight
I already did as the monotone beep of my heart monitor sounds
and before you put me in the ground
Lay a pack of Marlboro's on my breast pocket
I'll share them with the devil
Since twice I've been to hell.

Sunday, December 8, 2013

the Lives of Liars

They pasted together photos of themselves
On a large blank canvas
The white walls of its surfaces a daily reminder of their blank slates
so it was and so it is
As one day ends a new photo is entered
And a pressing sense of contentment permeates the homestead 
Till truth boils over into resentment
And photos are stripped from the walls now.

in a heart beat when mended wounds have time to heal
They plaster their board with fond memories of details
Details of decals of moments in their memories
And the joyous colors of technicolor
Will erase the broader stretches of time
And if someone chose to
They would see the bleeding colors
that stained the pure white canvas

They tried as they could and despite what they tried
failure never failed to follow their fractured selves
Till what they loved on the wall
was a fiction that someone else could tell
for though it was their faces
What they felt in the now
Was not the present truth
and the past was a ghost
For a place inside that was haunted.

Tuesday, December 3, 2013

Presently in Clarity - A short story

At the start of the day there was a boy who could not fathom why he could not walk home on his own.   Often he would plead with his mother to allow him this one small amount of independence, and often she would deny this request.   This went on for some time, he would beg, and be denied and then morosely take the route with his mother holding his hand.    It was for the longest of days his normal routine, and although he hated it, it always happened.

There was something about having to be towed along hand in hand with his mother down those wooded paths.   It was a serene location, quiet save for the sounds of morning birds or the occasional crickets.   The silence was only interrupted by those creatures and the light hum that slightly rustled the leaves that dangled from lowly branches.   These wooded trails were to calm to be accompanied by another, he wanted to experience this natural wonder of his own accord and on his own.    For so long he strove for this sort of independence and he had hoped as he often did that if he complied with his mother's wishes that she would permit him even just once to make the journey alone.  As the days passed on this was not the case.

So it was on a lowly winter afternoon, before the snow had truly begun to fall that the boy gathered together his outdoor attire and meticulously put it on in as silent a manner as he could lest he awaken the ruler of his house.   Even as he tied his boots he did so with the fear that even the most strenuous tightening would release a noise that would warn the woman of her young son's escape.   After all was fasted, buttoned, and zipped he moved his gloved hand to the door knob and twisted it calmly, and as he pulled the door open it creaked, and then creaked once more, and then a third louder time for good measure.   As these simple sounds echoed out into the quiet home he waited to hear her footsteps overhead but they did not arrive.   For now he was safe.

When the door was shut, and he had strolled on a ways he took a moment to take in what he had accomplished for here he was now safe from reprimand, but only for the time being.   Eventually her alarms would stir her, or her sleep would have been enough and she would notice his boots gone, and his coat, and himself absent from the premises.   He had to act fast for it was only his wish to experience it alone only for a moment and be back without worrying, or bothering his mother.

The morning birds were silent that morning.   And in the cold weather there were no crickets to chirp forth, and event the air itself was still, and the baren branches had no leaves to rustle had the wind been active.   The barren world before him was not what he wanted.   He strolled on regardless, with one foot then the other.   It was true that he was feeling fullfilled, but this was not what he had wanted to see.   It was as though everything were on another plane, in some place beyond this earthly world.  The cold had killed it all, and he was now alone in the presence of everything that he wanted, but not as he wanted it.

History of Seperations

In the way you look 
It is killing the vibes
That permeate this mind
Till there is no more room
For rational realizations
It will only bend if its torn
It can only tear when it's bent
Slightly chaotic cores
Underneath cooling exteriors
Behind the hill of everything
We are underminded
When its only for the good
The good of all of us
Do not let the light go out
Silently the defenses
Developments,
And conditions will melt
Into the pot of shit.

The Light At The Edge of Shadows

For what its worth you are a perfectly imperfect being
In the smile that rests upon your face
Is a contagion that causes me to fluster
I see inside the soul of joy, and sadness
A window through the heart of a queen
Giving me hope in the possibilities in humanity
As you strive forth through your struggles
Still smiling, still stronger than anyone I've known
For what its worth you are an imperfectly perfect being
And in this world that is something special
In the terribly fierce winds of this chaotic existence
You have a soul that brings them home
Those who feared and worried for humanity
A hope to strive for because you know to care
Through the fabrics of the listless endeavors that you place upon your weary shoulders
We may see hope,
It is true you are not alone,
There may be others out there that others may take note of
But I'm thankful that I know someone like you
Even if you never know.

Monday, December 2, 2013

Imitating Clowns

If I should continue my onward descent

I will eventually enter into my void

A place in the back of my mind where I sleep

When my thoughts force me into tired mumbles

In the back of a room in the dark in the rain

That pitters and patters upon the roof

Echoing in a ghostly chamber

That is all in my head where it always was

As were the troubles that cluttered the room

Where my footing was unsure and I could not move

Lest I trip and crush the trinkets about

My soul to keep itself entertained remains

In a blanket of melancholy

Disguised in sarcasms and humorous undertones

An invisible frown painted on the face

Of my mask that must be worn today

Though I am inside and outside is nothing

The world is there and it is empty and nil

Tree's blow in a wind of catastrophe

because of my claustrophobic tendencies

Do not omit the details just because you can't write the words

It's not your fault what they did to you

Stop the process of getting stuck in your room

If the light were released from this void to that

We might actually smile for real
Maybe today just once it'll be real.

An Ode to the Death of a Long Ago Simplicity

Of all the things I've said and done
Take me back to the corner
Let the dreams of yesteryear fill my void
As I try to replace the cold with warmth
Toss out the good with the bad
And decide on no course of action
Back when limited reflection granted me nothing
Where cold hard facts were unfeeling and morose
When little children laughed and played
And no one told me I told you so
Before the mistakes came in and jilted me inward
But after I read my first books
And catapulted my endeavors into the stratosphere
And they lingered there
Just above my head
Like a mobile in a crib
Tenderly tuned to a tune of astute calamity
That somehow despite itself
Soothed my world weary heart
Before pretty eyes and  a delectable smile
Ripped out my fingernails
But after I decided to be good
Even though it would be difficult to breathe.