Blink

Hey hey close your eyes
And you might miss me
But not like I miss you

Hey hey I wanna be with you
And I want you to be with me
All day all day

Would you close your eyes
To meet love
And it’s first kiss?

Baby look me dead
(But don’t see me as such)
In the face

Such grace you hold
Casting your spell on me
And I’m blind but for you

Run your hand through your hair
Here let me help you
Dear dear you

Hey hey hey hey hey love
Close your eyes and miss me
But not like I missed you before we had now

I’ll always long for you
Baby baby you tattooed yourself on my heart
And I wanna dance with you as the drums beat their tattoo

Wild dreams can’t contain
My heart beating faster
Than wild horses

Hey hey close your eyes
And I’ll kiss you
But blink and you’ll miss me
I don’t want to have to miss you again.

Upon Hearing These Words the Queen Approached the Jester, Curtsied, and Allowed Him to Take Her Hand and Gently Kiss It

Love…
Free for the taking
And the better for the giving…
Ladies and gentlemen why do you sit here!?!
To give ear to the jester?
This is the season for love!
And perhaps
Perhaps
Perhaps
My audience thinks I know the way
Your fears I will allay
Today
I say
That love indeed is a quest,
Indeed the best,
And far more nobler than all the rest!
But what does a jester know of this love,
This indwelt treasure bestowed from above?
Dearest majesty grant a lone request
And I could bring a smile-
At least for a while
(Until you give voice to your heart
And inquire after its art
Wondering if I am maybe more than a face
Painted
Smiling
Playing a part)-
For that is the one favor I ask
That you smile, my lady
And you do so daily
Outlining a portrait of happiness
Nothing less.
Your dress!
It betrays feeling
Sending me reeling
My thoughts sealing
Their way inside of my heart and lifting it up to the sky
Whose paint is peeling,
A pale imitation of art,
Fading into nothing
Nothing
Nothing at all.
Dear Queen
Ruler of this land
(And my heart, which longs for your hand)
And its waters
(Across which I loved you)
And its daughters
And sons
Each
And every
One kiss is enough
Let me just brush
Like paint
Against an easel
Creating a masterpiece
Without you I have no peace

And ladies and gentlemen take no heed
Of this speech, my humorous deed
For I am a fool
Just a tool used to coax the embers of giggles
Into a fire
And such is not the way of love
For what have I to kiss my face
But collar of lace
And paint of blue
But never you
My aim is true
But holds not the courage to fly towards the mark.

28 Degrees Fahrenheit

Lately
I spend most of my days
Trying to sort out where
My head is
In relation to my heels
And I don’t know what is up and what is down
Is that why you are laughing?
And how can you?
I’m down…
But at the same time
Up
Up
And away I go
Like a needle threads the tight rope I walk
Through the delicate patterns left by the holes in my heart
As a guideline
And a warning
And instructions for warming
Heat at whatever degree you want
And for however long you desire
It’s cold outside and you as the fire to warm me sounds nice
Ice clouds my vision
I’m just sitting here wishing
I wasn’t so cold

Sleepless

It's the dead of the night
And my one-track mind is keeping me awake.
This waking dream that is life with you
Cushions me like an air bag
For without the dream I would die.

I talked to a drum major today
She asked about you,
Though she didn't know it,
And I answered in the polite YES's and NO's
Which I wish were all positive
And I went into a dream.

I talked to a would-be world conqueror today
I told him about you
And he said I needed help.
I just need a hug
To give me breathe to hold through the night.

It's the dead of the night
And the residue of your smile won't let me close
The eyes of my mind
For I can't stop seeing you
Nor do I want to.

Broken Record

"She said 'I know what it's like to be dead.
I know what it is to be sad'
And she's making me feel like I've never been born."

CLICK

Yes?
No.
Yes?
No.
Yes?
No.
Yes? (I was that shiny new album
Gleaming vinyl slipped gently from its sleeve-
My one shield-
By your gentle strength)
No. (You spin me around
And around
And around
And around)
Yes? (Memorizing my lyrics
Embracing my words in combination
With the melodies and harmonies
Of my feelings for you)
No. (Around, around, around)
Yes? (Track after track,
Beauty bleeding into beauty
And you beg that the music not end,
That it be true,
And not too good to be)
No. (Was it only my words that made you,
Like a record,
Twirl around in circles,
So hypnotic?)
Yes? (And Icarus had potential
As we both know so well,
For we too have potential)
No. (Are you determined that our wings
Be destroyed?)
Yes? (Please?)
No. (And we’re both sorry
And at least one of us knows it)
Yes? (45’s and 33 1/3’s are built to specifics
And I...
Am like a record).
No. (Put me back in my sleeve, then)
Yes? (I was that shiny new record
You couldn’t stop listening to)
No. (And you broke me)
Yes? (I ask)
No. (You respond)
And the broken record skips, repeats.
Yes?
No.
Yes?
No.
The record cracks
And breaks,
But won’t stop spinning.

Mythology

There must have been a great fire
Or natural disaster
That destroyed all the temples
The ancient world set up for you.
It could have been the Titans I suppose,
They were known to be your enemy.
What other explanations can there be
For the absence of your monuments?
Perhaps your servants found the highest mountain of all
Building your home like Babel
Until Zeus too succumbed to jealousy
And of course you would have let him continue
In his fit of manly rage,
Imitating the power that you are,
As in all his existence.
Lust is not true love,
Or love at all,
Though it’s often mistaken for such
And maybe that’s why
None but I noticed the absence of your cathedrals.

I must be
A natural disaster
To erase the traces of love from your face.

Lies

Beauty walks by
And I think about halting it’s progress
To take it in my arms,
Running her long silky hair
Through my fingertips
(Where so much slips through my grasp).
The smile is for me
With its sparkling teeth-
Perfection-
And she laughs,
Cool and clear
Like beauty sometimes does.
She could have time for me,
Acknowledge my existence,
Be part of a fairy tale…

But no,
She is a lie.
Though she doesn’t exist
She is not a fairy tale,
Because the fairies impregnate their stories
With love,
And she could never have my heart…
For she is not you.

New Patriotism (Broken Heart, Broken Hand)

Pain,
A drug:
I shoot up,
Again,
Again-
Adrenaline friend.
Truth,
Daggers,
Shatter my dream,
Drowned
Scream-
Gargle before drinking.
Pain,
My drug,
Sell me some.
Bruises,
Embrace,
One and the same

I pledge allegiance to pain
And to the broken heart
For which it stands
One me
Without you
Easily divisible
With plenty of tears
To get through the night

A Rock, A Chance

What if mirrors are only panes of glass
Windows into other worlds,
Only offering backwards imitations
Of our lives
By chance
When’er we happen to glance?

Would all those people,
Oh-so-vain,
Check their reflection
Again and again?
Wisdom dictates they not do so
For fear they fall in love and go
Through the glass
Like air
Then water
Air again
(The lake, just a film)
To be with a creature,
So beautiful,
That they could pass as a twin
Of those who gaze.

I might look more,
But not to follow the trail
Blazed by Narcissus,
Instead to guard,
Make sure my clone-
Reflection-
Does not leave,
Run away in fright,
To join the shadow
Of that other Lost Boy,
And also to watch
To see if I can
Catch it in the act
Of changing
Into one of the many
Me’s.

What if there are no mirrors,
Only looking glasses
That point to other realms?
I suggest you let them be,
Not calling forth reflections,
Under pretense of observation
In the vein of those great explorers.
Don’t give the reflections
Excuse to be vain.

Ragged Road I Am

Laughing at the music
Forcing its beats through my headphones
I laugh because
I can survive
And I might
If you listen.
Let’s begin the discussion.

I am a ragged road
Do you expect perfection?
You could hope for happiness tho…

So many people can’t take it
When the road twists
WHAT DO YOU EXPECT?
Don’t you know that
So much good
Waits around the corner?

The sickness works its way into my mind
Twisting my stomach
Around and around and
Around the bend
There is a future
But so many insist on getting thrown off.

You are smarter than that.

We agree on wisdom
But to walk the road
Requires honesty
Tell me truly
And I will remind you
That I made you feel happy and special.
You ARE special.
And I think you could be happy.

Let’s try dancing to the absurdity
That runs as teen movies and MTV
Through my headphones.
This plea caught up between Frost
And chart-climbing cliché.


Let’s be careful,
Please,
I wouldn’t dream of any other way
Of handling your heart.
Remember we are treasures,
Two diamonds in the rough.

Careful doesn't mean halt,
Perhaps pause,
But the road has a traffic light.
Help me see inside your mind...
Gorgeous


Am I upset?
I wouldn’t know…
I’m too busy balancing.
Help me see the other side.

Tangled is bad
Embrace is good
Cause I say adorable things
And you are too beautiful for words.

People see the any ragged road
And judge it
Not
Worth
Walking.
It’s too hard.
Getting through the barriers
Makes for blessings
And I would walk any road
With such a blessing as you.

I laugh
At how the mindless music mirrors
Aristotle
(Probably an accident)
And I cry for what people lose.
That doesn’t have to be us.
Other people have walked the road.

The road is not straight
But it is narrow.
Will you walk with me?
We don’t have to start the journey yet
But I’ll wait at the gate,
I just want to know.

This song might be the accompaniment
To one of those montages
In just another movie
Celebrating youth
And I might be holding your hand by the end of the scene.

I took so many wrong turns
To get away from you
And the road I took
Led me where I told myself
I wouldn’t go.
And I can’t take any other road.

Many abandon their roads.
Just as many walk them until death,
And that is nothing more than a
"To be Continued".
And these are the people whose lives
Are the better for the walking.

There is no perfect road
But there are some things worth
Hoping
And walking towards.
Will you walk with me?

Puppet Master

I am not in charge.

If I was then he would go…
Over there…
Somewhere
And she would go too
And you would probably be
Somewhere
By me.

I want to control the puppets
(They’re marionettes)
But I have no strings attached.
Realize that-
And follow the strings to
Somewhere
Closer.

A long time ago
Someone
Pulled me to you
And then dropped the strings,
Letting me fall,
Handing the reigns to someone else...
Did you cut them?

I am not in charge...
But if I were,
Would our strings become tangled?
There are none attached to me...
Except for those pulling me
To you.

Star Wish

Two stars
Sparkling lights
Could shine so much brighter
If only they were
One
But for now they are
Connected
Only by the space
In between them
The sky like an embrace
Bringing them together
Closer
Than either dares to shine
And I pray and I wish
Upon a star
That you’d be mine
Though I could not own you
(I could sooner own a star,
Paper doesn’t make ownership)
But I would be happy
To hold you
And never let you go
Hoping you’d shine all the brighter.

The moon doesn't sleep today

Teaspoon Emotions

Glazed eyes in class
Sleepwalk through the day
Autopilot running my body
While my mind and my heart
Engage
In insignificant battle.
Gut instinct whispers against
Reason
Logic
The “safe” way.
But I fight it with
What little strength
My heart has
To spare
Because I know
My feelings
Don’t matter.
Not to be arrogant,
But I’m usually right…
Or at least not wrong,
Erring on the side of caution
So as not to risk my heart
In the pursuit of love.
Perhaps you’re only helping me
In defense against myself
By placing me in his shadow.
In that case I thank you,
Even though it shatters me,
I’ll be fine I suppose,
My emotions aren’t that important.
Maybe he’s greater,
But does that make me
Less?
Probably…
It’s best I not forget it
Lest my teaspoon emotions
Become ambitious…
I suppose they are already,
But that’s not important,
And neither are they.
No matter how many of us
I feel like the one extra wheel.
Is this your design?
It’s surely not mine.
Hide away
But at least be honest.
Don’t talk if you can’t
But stick to what you say.
On second thought
I’m being ambitious
And demanding the rights of
Common courtesy.
Clearly this is laughable
For someone with emotions
Like me…
Like a teaspoon.

Last Man Syndrome

My fingers in shambles,
Especially the first,
After sliding down the bass
It’s surely the worst.
But the louder I play
The faster I can forget
The pain you subject me to.

I want so much,
(Is my aim too high?)
But I ask for so little
(Is restraint just a lie?).
I’m not such a danger
But it seems like your goal
Is to hold me at arm’s length
As a stranger.

I am not he
And I don’t think it should matter
Though by now between I and he
You’re making me aim for the latter,
And I wonder if being
The last man
Would be enough.

Is being treated as a human
Too much to ask?
This treatment, dear friend,
Makes me turn to my mask:
I’ll hide,
Or be jester,
You don’t want the truth.

Avoid me, disdain me,
Whatever you choose,
I’ll stand here and take it,
My love is yours to lose…
Or trample on
Or hide from
Or keep…

…Perhaps if I was the last man.

Not-So-Grand

I know why the Grand Inquisition
Quit
Though I'm sure they enjoyed their
Work
Where all is play and life's a
Stage
They quit because there was nothing
Worth
Questioning or testing or judging etc.

I don't know the Grand Inquisition's
Face
But I may as well, for I fit the mold
Myself
Questions are asked to lead to
Answers
Secretly hoping the answer is
Guilty
Of not being what the Grand Inquisition thinks is worthy

The Grand Inquisition is but a
Road-Block
Perhaps that is its role in
Life
To block happiness with its utter
Selfishness
To cripple love as if heartbreak is a
Game
They stopped because they think I can't walk the road
And so there is no point in guarding it.

Survival

I’m trying
To walk lines
Not just one,
Like Johnny Cash,
And not because
You need me sober.
I walk these lines
Like a tight rope
Because I need balance:
To not be too cold
And not be too warm
Or at least to not seem either
To not be too old
And not be too young
When I want to be both
For you and for me and everyone else
Between the lines.
I want to be me
But still I need balance
So I don’t fall
From one end or another
(I don’t think there is a safety net).
So I try to balance
And walk towards you
Not just as one who walks tight ropes
But as a tight rope
Artist

Double Haiku Combo Breaker

Hundreds of times I
Have tried to describe you with
New and old clichés

Each time I fail
Because you leave me speechless
And you are Beauty

Oasis

I want
To be where there’s life
To know the nature of reality
To feel the shock of the lightning
But I think I’d rather
Have a simple fairy tale.
But what’s my story (Morning Glory)?
And how do I get there?

I’m unable to roll with it
Though I try to soldier on
And instead I find
That I’m falling
And failing
‘Cause the way I’m feeling
Isn’t something I can tell you
Because I don’t think you want to
Hear.

I would definitely
Maybe
Catch the wheel
If I know it would take me to you
The maybe it’s only because
I can’t assure that I won’t,
Like a butterfly,
Be broken.

I just want a fairy tale,
That one happy spot
In the middle of life’s desert.
Though with your hand in mine
The desert’s a stage,
And the play in this case
Has an always-happy
Ending.

360

You say I hold no power
And that I make no sense.
These words hit home,
I feel alone,
And truth be told, I wince.

You dig out my soul
It’s black like coal
The color is a lie,
(Like secondhand smoke)
And again I must ask “Why?”

Why do I write these words
That breathe out all my fears?
And why can’t I be numb again
And hold back mental tears?
I was so numb for years…

This rhyming scheme is scattered
Like thoughts pulled from my heart
Except those
Like arrows
All
Find their way towards a target…
And therein lies your art.

I’m sure this poem makes no sense
But that’s just who I am,
Still nonsense always finds its end
And to that I say:
Frankly, my dear
I DO give a damn.

Under A Spell

I have a question
Quite important
I really need to know:
Do you believe in fairies?
My dear,
Please tell me so.

You see, my dear
The tale like this
Along with my inquiry:
Once I lost my way
And trapped inside the forest I
Thought readily
That I might die
Til I heard the golden tinkling bells
Of golden fairy laughter
Meeting my panicked yells
So far away
Yet close enough
That I am here today
Their call brought me close
And I don’t think it a sin,
But on that day
My belief in fairies did begin.

Do you believe in fairies?
For I believe in you,
And if such beauty as yours exists
Why can’t fairies live too?

I see their hands
Warming your own
Serving justice to the crime
Of me letting you be alone.
I see their glow
Reflected as your lips part into smiles
And I feel their magic
Pulling my feet long and dreary miles.

Some people blame the fairies
For evil that they do
I can only thank their gift
Of bringing me to you.

Now dearest
As I stand here
My heart pressed to your hand
Will you tell me please
That you also
Believe in fairy land?

Confessions

The traffic light on the crooked path
Is broken.
“Red” said I
“Green” I got instead,
Now I see “yellow”
And I don’t know what that means.

Some people think yellow
Is a sign
To speed up
Before they see RED
And others see YELLOW
As RED.
I think YELLOW
Means decisions…

I stare at the traffic light
And confess
That I’m afraid
Of error
Because if I tried to embrace it
I would not know
Which side
To ‘err’ on

I spent so much time
Saying “no”
And yet received firm whispers of
YES
And now I confess
That I may have outwitted myself
And set as an ambush
The traffic light

Psalm

The water is like glass
With ripple after ripple
Caused by the kisses of the wind

So transparent,
So clear,
I see right through it
Yet at the same time…
I can’t.

Today the lake is
A one-way glass.
Instead of seeing through
The window
I know is there
It seems a mirror.

And I stare into it…
Questioning.


The beauty, Oh God
Answers my inquiries
As to where you are.

And I can’t help but think
That I’m surrounded by
Watches,
Like Paley.

But I think even the rocks
Are as watches
And the lake is a timekeeper too
With hands and a face
Displaying not time
But You

Whatever

Sometimes apathy seems the only armor
To protect myself
I spout out excuses, pleas, and “please”
And the one response that makes sense is
Whatever

So ambiguous
I wrap myself in it
And it’s all I want to tell the world
“LEAVE ME ALONE”
Doesn’t seem half as effective as
Whatever

“Wanna know the sad thing?”
I whisper to the darkness
“I won’t be alone!”
“I can’t!”
It hurts…but
Whatever

More words long to be written
To begin their journey
From my mind to yours.
So I could write more…

Whatever

Rain Song

I feel like maybe
We’re alone
In a crowd of other people
We are two souls
Four feet under the table
And I feel like maybe
The way the wind strokes your hair
Gives away the fact that you
Can’t leave your door,
(Shutting it in the face of possibility)
Without finding love.

I can’t get away from
Whatever it is
That brings down this rain.
I slip
I fall
I rise up tall
I live to try again.
And this burning of soul
Like the burning of bridges
Gets me through the day
And through the rain.

Invisible hands
Breaking me down
So I can rise on the remnants of the old
Like a phoenix
To make it to somewhere higher
Where love lives.
Play the piano
Loop it back
So I can have a repeated soundtrack
As I repeat my
Fall.

I think you are thunder
And lightning may strike me
As you herald the rain.
I slip
I fall
I rise up tall
I live to try again.
As I gaze in your eyes
Rain clouds my own
Yet I fight it back
To look at you
Through the pain.

Sometimes I think
That words make more sense
With music.
And thoughts make less sense
Alone.
Tonight out remedy,
Accompaniment
Is rain.

Shadow Tales - Rain Down Your Pain

The fairies tore the room apart with their screams in a desperate attempt to satisfy their need to be heard. They may as well have been silent, for all the good it did them, but silence was not their way…

Much more vocal, more ear-splitting, and more heart-breaking were his screams. He screamed, not because he needed to be heard, but because he couldn’t hold all the pain that filled his heart to the breaking point. It was release, and there was nothing sweet about it. Instead, all the doubt, all the loneliness, all the misplaced trust inside of him came gushing out of him, like blood from a wound he couldn’t keep shut. His cry rushed to embrace the rafters, bouncing off the walls, like children full of sugar. The pain left him, only to be replaced by new, deeper, suffering…the scar tissue never given a chance to form.

Today could be beautiful, in spite of all the pain, if only he knew that she lived. He should have known, because her heart still beat within his chest, but it had been his for so long without his knowing, he couldn’t be expected to remember that the heart that was keeping him alive was not his own. Hearts are such strange things…they work, only in order to survive and when they find someone they value more than life, they simply give themselves over to the task of providing life for someone else, shifting from one shell to another, over the bridge that is formed by two souls in love. His heart, her heart, it was indistinguishable by now, really only two pieces of the same two-piece puzzle. He screamed, but not because he was in pain that no man had ever experienced before. He screamed because he had no way of knowing that she was free of pain…and the faint chance that she was tore him apart.

The fairies knew enough to answer his question…and more…but for once they were silent.

His captors had chained him to the wall, much more crudely than Fate had linked him to her. The invisible bonds he had so willingly embraced were something he would carry with him, gladly, forever. The cheap, rust, man-made shackles that coldly held him in the dark were intended only to be with him until death.

The chains, seeming to have a life of their own for a brief second, tightened around him, constricting his chest and depriving him of the oxygen he needed, almost as much as he needed to be with her. But he was used to going without air, she took his breath away the first time he saw her, and she continued to do so smiling whenever his words went the same way as his air intake.
He wouldn’t say he knew what love was…but he did, whether he thought so or not. Every thought he had for her was love, and love was the only thing that kept him alive in his current predicament. Love was also what was causing him so much pain…

…or it could have been the fairies pulling at his chains…

Shadow Tales

Three weeks later she awoke. Her head suddenly split with the screams of approximately seventy-three fairies, all begging to be heard. She slowed her zombie-like steps to a total standstill, grinding to a halt somewhere in the middle of a busy city street (for what better way to begin rebirth but with a stop?). One would think that instead of an awakening, the cessation of movement would be attributed to a slip into slumber. Not so in her case. Instead, the sudden awareness of being asleep for such a long time, and now falling back into life had left her shocked and at a complete and total…stop. The fairy voices suddenly are strangled by the interrupting screeches of approximately two cars, slamming on brakes and horns, sending her fragile world into an explosion of sound. She looked up, startled, and in an instant was back on the sidewalk. She had only stopped for a second, but that second w as enough to irritate the drivers of the half dozen cars that were by now, more than halfway to nothing. Time seemed so irrelevant now. She had once wanted time to stop completely, the seconds could have dragged on forever and she would have been happy. But now he was gone…and time was her enemy because it wouldn’t kill her fast enough. She thought of how men and women have a nasty habit of being attracted to one another, and wished that she had never fallen into this cliché. Nasty…there must be a better word. Her trouble a month ago was coming up with words to push the envelope of the other end of the spectrum.
She was awake now, and the funny thing was that she just now realized she had been asleep. She thought she had escaped him unscathed…like one of those balloons that doesn’t pop because of the piece of Scotch tape conveniently located at the point where the needle tears through the skin.
Funny thing #2: she had succeeded for three weeks in deluding herself into thinking that he had not left a mark on her heart…or was it his heart? Love had complicated everything so much…
Her eyes, that had once danced with laughter and love, now ran on auto-pilot. They saw…but only as necessity, only as a means of not running into the buildings and strangers that happened to occupy the empty world that she walked through. She took in her surroundings, not registering the beauty of the clear blue sky that supported the traffic of the sheep-like clouds. It all seemed black and white, without the insecurely added preface of “glorious”…like the end of The Wizard of Oz, though she still felt the longing for home. Could this have been what Dorothy felt like? She quickly threw the thought away, knowing that the classic heroin had never been so securely tethered to the fairy land…love made for a strong difference.
She felt the pull to do something, to end her misery by reclaiming happiness…
The fairies began their buzzing again…
She wanted to know if he was alive. She wanted to stop caring about whether or not he was. She wanted to know what he was feeling.

He was feeling pain.

Pain like the stabbing from a million burning swords, all administered by approximately one force of evil…and yet thousands of forces. This was much more complicated that in appeared on the surface…life tended to be that way. And where do the fairies fit in?

Taken From Absurdity

Sometimes people say things
And all I can do
Is verbalize a shrug:
“What can I say?”
And sometimes
She looks at me
With those dancing eyes
And I get lost
And I sadly wonder:
“What can I say?”

I could say pages of things
Enough to fill the landfill so wastefully full
Of Atari cartridges
And so much of it would be utter garbage
The perfect match to the things I decry.
But alas what am I
But that which is silent and instead,
Saying nothing,
I rob all of something?

But isn’t it easier
To choose silence?
To bow to the way things are?
Moving nowhere
Neither backward or forward
And pause,
Indefinitely at
“What can I say?”

I could say enough to fill pages
…
…
…
And rob all of something.

Does the between even matter?
I don’t know where to go.
I’m stuck in the mud of
“What can I say?”

Silent Movie

Sometimes I feel when I’m with you that I’m in a silent movie spinning by faster than the pace at which most pretend to live life and yet moving slower than thought possible because of the lack of sound but with you words are not necessary instead I simply drink in your smile the perfect curve of your lips speaking happiness as if the words were inserted into the film as subtly as a place card of text and at that moment as the action of the film speeds more players are introduced buzzing around all flighty and comical and plotting yet I still see nothing but your smile that makes me desire naught but the eternal watching of this film that is life while the people with their white hats and villainous moustaches all so obviously being who they are black and white just like the colors associated with the film the glorious black and white outshone by the glory of your laugh sparkling like the beautiful bells you will never hear in a silent movie

For the Critics (Not As An Insult)

Might I be me?
Or would you prefer you?
Perhaps I'm not good
At that which I do.
But who is the judge
And why do you do so?
You dance around words
And hid what you know.
This is the letter
Of silence and pause
As I ponder your enmity
That seems without cause.
Test me and weigh me
I'll sit here and smile
Through the memories of tears
And wretch'd taste of bile.
Boredom brings impishness
To the pen of this satire
I mean you no insult
It's not my desire.
Though I'm only sub-par
On this we agree
I suppose that my problem
Is that I am me.
How do I know
Or am I to guess?
Will you realize I am
Guilty? I confess.
Of being myself
Ever the crime
Smiling through hardship
Teething at time.
Here more confessions
Ever in doubt
Trusting in my safety
Enough to get out.
So do you approve?
Test me again
Is there hope of am I
Never to win?
Gather your data,
Enough to see,
Vote if you will, I'm still
Always me.
Now back to testing
?

Right eye open
Left eye blink
This,an aside for the critics,
A wink

Promising Past to Promise of Future

They walk through the past,
His hand in his pockets,
Instead of holding her hand
Of fire,
And instead of looking at him
She lets the lips of her gaze
Simply brush against the happiness around them,
Where everyone wears a smile,
Bought cheaply-
The world’s own clearance sale.
But she just walks,
And he just talks,
And oftentimes they switch roles
All the while sharing
The task of ignoring
The promise they walk with.
Distractions waltz in
Grasping the hands of fire
And the hands of ice
Pulling them into a dance
Til death.
She embraces memory
And he fondly looks to future
And oftentimes they switch roles.
Once-
In the future-
These two were one,
But then the present called them back,
Along with the fear
Of the future’s future:
Variable this
Variable that.
Their walk begins again.
As they try to remember
What happens next
The scene shifts to the past
And they walk through sandboxes
That they play(ed) in together
As children,
With child-like faith
In the promise that the leaving
Of this future past
Will bring these two children
Closer,
Just as the leaving
Of that sandbox
Brought the two hands
Almost to the point of
Touching
The future.
Now the memory of said future
Replaces said past
And they realize
That all the distraction
Was he and she
And then in the future
They shoved aside
Blindness
Their hands fell
The past-
Like a magnet-
Engaged,
And the two hands,
Like past, present, and future
Entwine

Emotional Way To Be

She dreamed of days of
Can-not-be’s
And wished for those that were
Have-not-only-see’s
In a world full of whispers
And shadows of talking
All that she wanted was
Do-not-leave-me.
Why are things always hardest
For the survivors
Of themselves?
And why is it so much easier
For her to forgive
And not think twice
At forgetting her sin
Enshrined in trendy phrases
She knows
As surely they do too
That it wasn’t love on her arms
But blood
Leaving trails of
Why-not-me’s?
And tears.
Life is all the better for the living
But perhaps worse
For those who want nothing but
Leave me be’s.
The true pain-
Agony-
Found both in God’s will
And God’s won’t
Left with the doubt
That she may be alone.
Thus another tragedy
To be despised by so many
For not realizing that all the shining armor
Hid dragons

Unfinished Thoughts of an Almost-Broken Mind

I’m like that third point
The one without which there is no triangle
Only a line
That is content to be
And be a line.
I reach out to different points
And hands reach back
Or don’t
Giving instead
MAYBE LATER's
And WHEN I'M NOT BUSY's
Or sometimes just
NO
Those are the times where I can’t see
Through the streaks of broken teardrops
That reflect
Everything I’m feeling
And also the nothing -
The numbness-
That I try to feel.
I instead write in italics
My natural hand lying
To all the fools who say
The slant to the right portrays confidence

Seesaw

I
Doubt myself
Wonder if the vision of me
That dwelled in your mind
Was shattered by who I am

You
Don’t push me away
And yet don’t beckon me forward
Love is no longer blind
It would rather look at you

He
Says wait
As he himself waits
And the silence of compromise
Turns to the sound of not helping

She
Smiles for the future
Hoping for her friend
Speaking from experience
And possibly overestimating

They
Think they know best
Think that it’s easy
Think that there is hope
Think the future is now

I
Embrace hope
Despite my reservations
And pray you will take it away
Unless hope is real

You
Prove that my heart is beating
Only very confused
Love screams to know
Are you lying to yourself too?

He
Knows much
And says little
And thus drives insanity
Into the room

She
Assumes the best
For a friend who wonders
If she is being too optimistic
But is anyways hopeful

They
Are where they want to be
And think there is room for more
But they shift from the spotlight
And are gone

I
Find a corner to crawl to
The better to defend myself
From a heart that needs
Her smile

You
Are point A
And now is point B
And the shortest path
May not be a straight line

I
Hate the silence
For it holds naught but faint hope
That someday silence will be shattered
By your laughter

You
Are the subject
Of prayers and poetry
And like me or not
A blessing

The May Day Child

Favored Child,
You who is destined for victory
Over greatness.
For if victory is the future
What harm can be held
In the present?

Set sail on a ship along with your peers
Sights toward the conquest
Launched by a king
Revered for once
Prophesied for the future
And what harm can come to you?

How beautiful the truth
That with April showers
Come sweet new May flowers.
And how harsh the reality
That by June
You all will be dead.

Torn from the womb
And the arms of your mother
Forced by a legend
Towards the arms of another:
Sir Death.
And the rocks shall rise up to greet you.

Doom on the cliff face
There’s blood in the water
And you alone
Shall embrace the morning
For sweet victory
Has not yet been yours.

Their blood on your hands
Along with your father’s
Once victory arrives
He’s dead at your feet
Your only inheritance
Despair

And the hatred
Of future generations
All aimed at you,
King of the May Day children
And only you may survive.
Are you really so favored, child?

Fate and Its Cruelty

Kick me out
I’ll go to sleep
My soul to keep
I pray it
Evade it
Why don’t I simply close my eyes?
Kick me out the door
And I will bother you no more
False sympathy
Stoking false confidence
And I sit on the fence
Undecided
Knowing there is no real choice
But to fall
Where I land doesn’t really matter
You don’t want me
I’ll try to fall somewhere else
But if I land too close
I will gladly provide you
With the tools to destroy me
Or at the very least
My heart
There’s a start
And in a way
The last part
Of what is keeping me
Sane/human/alive
You decide
It’s what you are taking away.

Is there any hope
That love is what I will see
If the only thing I can do
Is try my best to be me?

an explanation of sorts

so i finally have time on my hands today...thus poems...

to explain the last one a bit: i tried working that one out and couldn't quite do everything i wanted. essentially it's to be an argument with myself...and instead i'm left arguing with myself over whether or not i should have given up/accepted it as it was.

Why Do You Wear the Same Jersey?

To self and sir;
You aren’t on my team,
You never will be
Why do you wear the same jersey as me?
You aim at my heart
Throw your cursed poison dart
Laughing you bask
In your vile villainy.
Why do you wear the same jersey as me?
You smile
Knowing I will fail to be true
To myself
And perhaps you can sense
That I long to fight the same war as you
For the same side-
The one that is against me.
Draw the line
Perhaps I will cross it
And put on your blood-stained jersey
The one you already wear
Marked with deceit
Covered in tears
Leaked from a broken heart
And I think perhaps
You are in the right
And I in the wrong
Desire wells up for me
To wear the same uniform as you
And perhaps lead the first charge
Against me

Dear sir;
I reply
Your argument is convincing
In the war to take place
I’m sure you’ll be winning
My defenses are weak
I’m sure you are right
Regrettably I cannot
Join in your fight
You’ll doubtless defeat me
And I might be set free
To follow the path
That my heart tries to see
I’m torn down the middle
Between you me and we
And again I must ask
Why the same jersey?

Twinsanity

I am what I know not
Laughter and suffering
Are my drug
Tie this knot
And slip through my head
You jumble of thoughts
All for naught
Slowly killing
My sanity
As I fall
Laughing
Deeper into madness
Crying till I laugh
Laughing at the tears
That insanity sheds
Like blood
Of an enemy
Or perhaps my Caesar
Bidding me this
Commanding me that
And now with his death
Nobody left to rule
But King Anarchy
And his laughing
And his weeping
Masks
Like those in a drama
That play throughout the final act
As I steal the show
In my last dying scene
Turning into rebirth
Laughter and suffering
The twins of insanity
Dance hand and hand
Through the cars
Of my derailed train of thought
I need laughter to survive
I cry because it leads to laughter
For does not man
Laugh at that which is crying?

The Swing of Things

How vague,
Life,
And those who live it
Running here
Driving there
Hearing this
Watching that
And doing other vague things
Some more…something…than others
I try to remember
The swing of things
As I take your hand
In its less-than-confident peer,
My own
And attempt to remember how to say
That one thing
And trying not to be vague
At the same time wondering
If here,
There,
Anywhere,
Is the time to be specific?
Back to the daily grind
Hitting the ground running
And sifting through the remaining grounds
Left from the coffee I refuse to turn to
For the one thing that might let me sleep
Knowing instead that this is impossible
As you dance through my head
Forever separating me from
The swing of things.
Wincing with fear and doubt
I release you,
Sending you flying back to the heavens
Where you so clearly belong
Praying that you will return
And smiling
Half a second later
When you do.
Is it because of gravity?
The mere fact that our hands still embrace?
Anything that I have done?
Or an attraction too fatal for my heart-not-blessed-with-a-healing-factor
To overcome?
Maybe it is that one thing
That I am too vague
To mention now
Maybe at some later point
Perhaps less vague…
For now I will remain a coward
Hiding behind a façade
A disguise,
A mask,
The pretense of something,
Anything
Any Thing
(You decide, I’m too vague).
As you spiral back towards me
I brace myself
For the impact that comes before a fall
Just like pride
And so many other things
Come before the fall
In the logical cliché world at least.
Again fear kicks in
Fear of abandonment
Brokenness
Something
And I hold you close
For perhaps a second longer
Than it would take
To be in the swing of things

Delving Into The Fake History of the Future...part 1

I sleepwalk through the day
And I’m too tired
To try for the few extra copper pennies
That come with playing the clown
And stealing a smile.
Instead choosing to sleep
As I walk
And dream
As I talk
And find myself
Once more ambushed by thoughts
Of the muse,
Of you,
Of fake histories of the future.
You are the catalyst
That makes loose ends disappear
At the very least of hopes
A thought
Powerful
Enough so to get me through the nightmare
I do my best to sleepwalk through
Exhausting myself
With walking
Even in my sleep
You make me believe
That I may be
That much closer to heaven
Closer to a place I can call home
A place I can call love
In a world full of pretends
All I want is for reality to be
Pure
And for that purity
To hold some trace of you

The Angel

I play the music quietly today
Better to drown out my thoughts
As I ponder
How wings are attached
To the backs of angels
The better to assure
That yours are never taken
Like so many before you.
I would defend you
And let them scoff
At the idea of a beast
Protecting a beauty,
An angel,
You.
For what am I but a life
That will pass
As a wind through the grass
Or perhaps like a hurricane
Far less graceful
And loved by none.
Only the thought of a change
Keeps the candle of my life
And heart
Aflame,
The chance that maybe the angel
Will smile kindly on me.
It doesn’t really matter
How wings are attached
To the backs of an angel.
I only wonder so that I may
Be closer to you
By keeping you in my thoughts.
Curse my rhythm
Or lack thereof
I am but a plague.
And you,
You are the inspiration,
Softly spinning grace,
A candle held firm in the wind,
An angel,
With wings on your back.

May your wings stay intact.

As Countries Stray

Liquid feelings
Are poured out
Onto the medium
As I
Give in to the urge to
Brutally vanquish
The writer’s block that has been
My bane.
Fueled by
My drug of choice:
Music,
I inject myself with the twisted
Cocktail of tune
And retreat from the madness
Of the world that spirals out of control.
Though if man is in nature
Evil
Why does he give his heart
To God
But the devil must resort to
Buying souls?
Such the beauty of giving in to love…
Yet instead the desire for self
And sin
Give power to that which should not tempt
But knows nothing else.
What must we do
To return to love
In this nation of
Saints turned to sinners?
What must be done
So that those who follow the path
After that which is true love
No longer are met with ridicule?
My drug laced with this plight,
The beauty of the music that I crave
Stained with the echo of
Heartbreaking questions,
That which turns so many away,
Provides no answers
Only inspirations
As I ponder
Will it take more sadness and silence
Forced down the throats of our hearts
One too many time
To return us to what we were meant for?
Are we all just a tragedy away from insanity?
Are we all
Standing on the edge
Of the precipice we are born into
Fragile
Needing something so badly
That when the cheap substitute
Is torn from us
We simply
Fall
Off the brink?
Are we a tragedy away from insanity?
Or simply a tragedy from a violent return
To love?

Phases of Light and Life

Moon and sun
Sucking away time
Rule our lives
With no reason
And less rhyme

The moon is broken tonight
Orange
Playing the sun
Showing us the desires of our heart
Fantasy leading to art

Yesterday it was like a lamp
Without a pole
Giving us reason to believe
In being whole

Today it is as shattered glass.
Half the burning remains of celestial embers
The rest locked forever
In an explosion of heavens
Resulting in naught but dust
And dreams crushed

The moon hangs overly bright,
Overly white,
Beautiful light

Tonight the moon is gone
Nowhere to be seen
The remnant of a dream
That despite all the wishing in the world
Must someday die

The moon has returned this night
Like a shining white knight
Bringing back time
And with it
Hope