Monday, May 17, 2010
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
aaaaaaaaa
because who wants to hear?
so many thoughts are stuck at the back of the bus
but this brand of melodrama
shouldn't be heard
the birds are doing alright, right?
so what are you worried about?
so many thoughts are stuck at the back of the bus
but this brand of melodrama
shouldn't be heard
the birds are doing alright, right?
so what are you worried about?
Sunday, February 28, 2010
regardless
past all the pillars is where i looked
as dust came down
on rock walls,
on glass tables.
the fuzzy recollection
a poor depiction
a vague reflection.
as dust came down
on rock walls,
on glass tables.
the fuzzy recollection
a poor depiction
a vague reflection.
Monday, January 18, 2010
all this time i've tried
under thoughts of grey
between noble winters
shrouded thoughts
the push and pull, anticipation
hold my breath
close my door again, since
i've gotten the lock installed
all ruminations are still on boil
since when did my skies turn blue(while my winter coat fades)
since when was it hard to wake
to such eager mornings
paperclips suspend the notion
cultivated porcelain abrasion
mask the kettle, off the flame
spend the cash for enduring
if the winter sun rises again
still on the edge of my seat
between noble winters
shrouded thoughts
the push and pull, anticipation
hold my breath
close my door again, since
i've gotten the lock installed
all ruminations are still on boil
since when did my skies turn blue(while my winter coat fades)
since when was it hard to wake
to such eager mornings
paperclips suspend the notion
cultivated porcelain abrasion
mask the kettle, off the flame
spend the cash for enduring
if the winter sun rises again
still on the edge of my seat
Friday, January 15, 2010
glass under arm
i have puddles flowing by the drip-full
whatever i wanted to share,
i wanted to share forever
may i say yea? may i say whatever i want?
if you were to tell me no
would my intuition kick my sense back
would these snow flakes cover my symbolism?
were these fields not so disparaging
were this disparity not so overwhelming
would i be able to hold myself back?
whatever i wanted to share,
i wanted to share forever
may i say yea? may i say whatever i want?
if you were to tell me no
would my intuition kick my sense back
would these snow flakes cover my symbolism?
were these fields not so disparaging
were this disparity not so overwhelming
would i be able to hold myself back?
Thursday, December 24, 2009
.,.,
i defamed the sky,
for showing me a color of blue
that i much rather would not
have wanted to see.
i just wish i could sit in trees
those leaves, those leaves.
for showing me a color of blue
that i much rather would not
have wanted to see.
i just wish i could sit in trees
those leaves, those leaves.
modesty
considerations of some intangible kind
i could lump all the dark spots
into this bottle. the green won't keep long
it's just the last stab i have
at some brand of ignorance... won't keep long
if i continue down the mountain, no matter the speed
the avalanche gains
if i stay, this branch won't keep long.
i could lump all the dark spots
into this bottle. the green won't keep long
it's just the last stab i have
at some brand of ignorance... won't keep long
if i continue down the mountain, no matter the speed
the avalanche gains
if i stay, this branch won't keep long.
you always thought.
always the first mistake.
i crossed three states yesterday
and i'm not talking about fucking wyoming
or something like that.
this is it. it's serious.
i've brewed coffee before
but never had to strain like this
it's all my cloudy days accumulating
it's all my rainy nights articulating
it's everything i can do to not run
it's everything i can do to carry on
none of you have any idea how much this is
always the first mistake.
i crossed three states yesterday
and i'm not talking about fucking wyoming
or something like that.
this is it. it's serious.
i've brewed coffee before
but never had to strain like this
it's all my cloudy days accumulating
it's all my rainy nights articulating
it's everything i can do to not run
it's everything i can do to carry on
none of you have any idea how much this is
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
reverence
it was subtle, i thought
but i wasn't the one standing
on the green bridge
my legs, like typewriters,
feeling visions cast out
from those suspended stars
wrapped tight to steel railing
still shaking from the shock
of elevation
soon it was alleviation
from a plastic pump on a metal drum
and being told what to do
never has been so rewarding
but i wasn't the one standing
on the green bridge
my legs, like typewriters,
feeling visions cast out
from those suspended stars
wrapped tight to steel railing
still shaking from the shock
of elevation
soon it was alleviation
from a plastic pump on a metal drum
and being told what to do
never has been so rewarding
Sunday, December 13, 2009
poem
i sat back and watched the dust settle
like a drawn out sunset washing over the green fields
within a moment it was over
the sun nestled between two walls of mountain
which rested a thought
if it never rises again, i won't mind
like a drawn out sunset washing over the green fields
within a moment it was over
the sun nestled between two walls of mountain
which rested a thought
if it never rises again, i won't mind
Wednesday, December 02, 2009
how many people cried?
foreclosing
my midsummer night-stick plummets to the depths
fields are hazy with jubilance of youth
with mardi gras of yesteryears
tessellation of an overt variety.
of grains of stalk
grains of sand
attacking the thought we
thought we had conquered
mere effervescence amongst the veil of exuberance
building walls on lands of quick sand
exterminating those means to an end
perpetuating correspondence on deaf ears
my midsummer night-stick plummets to the depths
fields are hazy with jubilance of youth
with mardi gras of yesteryears
tessellation of an overt variety.
of grains of stalk
grains of sand
attacking the thought we
thought we had conquered
mere effervescence amongst the veil of exuberance
building walls on lands of quick sand
exterminating those means to an end
perpetuating correspondence on deaf ears
Tuesday, December 01, 2009
tuesday still
i dreamed a field
meadows of green
and rolling clouds
trees that whispered silently
secrets that no one else knew
i carried a basket of the finest delicacies
port, brie and poetry
the set was locked, it was impeccable
i lilted a melody, immaculate
the sun set low, the sun set low
the meadow darkened, ashen, barren
upon my lips was the glass
revealing itself empty, desolate, dry
meadows of green
and rolling clouds
trees that whispered silently
secrets that no one else knew
i carried a basket of the finest delicacies
port, brie and poetry
the set was locked, it was impeccable
i lilted a melody, immaculate
the sun set low, the sun set low
the meadow darkened, ashen, barren
upon my lips was the glass
revealing itself empty, desolate, dry
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