| This really sucks. |
[21 Jul 2006|07:49pm] |
June 21st, 2006
Smoke circled in a room that keeps the sunlight out
There she sits and understands the days failure—and she says out loud—
Saying “Another day down, with nothing done”
The old papers lay on the floor from every loved one
Sandra’s eyelids grow heavy and her skin gets tight,
Like the accused in a jail cell rooming with her crime
Hoping some day she’ll do was right, waiting to ignite
People are cruel, you are weak, what do you seek?
Take one test to define you, like blueprints and mug shots
"Your getting old, I know you could be less weak
could you change who you are, to make it?
Your friends seem to slip unseen through these tears
what have you been doing with yourself all the years?
—Then she looks away from the conductor
on the floor alongside the mediums, and beat novels
Not far from the forgotten stringed instruments
On childhood photography and thoughts of motels
All is the past and future in this room’s contents
"Whatever you say, do not demean my friends
If they were gone, I’d have nowhere to hide
And please don’t tell me it will all come to an end
For I know it all falls away ... I know, so they lied
What an observation.
To see that I’m surrounded by con-artists
who have, and will continue
to be con-artists, that are simply untrue.
How would you react if I said they are my air—
without the drama I’ve seen—I’d live a different life!"
Along the echoes of the guitar’s gut strings
And the screams
of silver harmonics
Passes in brainwaves, as a voice sings
screaming out a ballad for a friend
virulent words that we comprehend
Saying everything unsaid
—Let us bring in the smoke, I’ll give you and excuse
and ignore me as I inhale these blues,
with hues of every last bruise,
so we’ll sit here making up all the reasons and wrongs
Then pick up our coffee mugs and discuss some songs
|
|
| my mom |
[19 Jul 2006|03:35pm] |
June 19, 2006
Lisa’s life is full of rage, hurt and glory
She has garbage bagged everything that bled her story
She comes home crying from the hurt in her face
From smiling that fake smile in her work place
Where she discusses others health care
And takes herself up and down with each prescription prayer
She is loosing her son from her nervous life
By a man who made her endless days of strife
She’s got a lot to say to me, her daughter
But the voice of care always brings up my father
She dances every night to a hard song on repeat
And displaces her screams into every angry beat
Sometimes she drinks to feel like she was numb
Then falls into everything she had abstained from
I live with Lisa in a madhouse where we dance in decay
Like a tragic novel in a Broadway play
I hide because I wish I could amount to her hopes
I try hard to help her sing with me to cope
But this life is much too demanding for her to sing
And we yell so loud that I can’t hear a thing
But I love my mother, Lisa, and it’s hard to understand
I wish I was there to fulfill her demands
Someday I hope to become the artist that paints our life
The stress hurts our sides like the stab of a knife
Cutting out the kindness in every vital movement
So we can wake up and sense the day’s improvement
She is lying on the couch now with her head buried deep
Trying to run away to a blind, peaceful sleep
Sleeping is real, where smoking and drinking are false
At least you know it’s numbness with a pulse
I am disrupting it by a plead of instruments to say I’m sorry
I can’t stop the traffic jam of each day’s worry
I won’t be around Lisa in a year and I’ll awaken her every fear
But her children are dreamy but okay
There’s nothing either one of us can really say
For we love our mother, but we’re children for now
And our hands may only be able to brush the sweat from her troubled brow
It’s a thankful love for bringing us into this world with soft hands
For children and mothers, often misunderstand
|
|
| walhgalsdgad |
[30 May 2006|01:24am] |
Shake it off dear stranger
Feed me your limericks for disaster
Making sense is for the lost ranger
And bleed me true forever after
Sometimes I wish I was born a star
A star that can win this current war
A war against family ties and costs
A war for the dead and buried
The homosexuals, the races of rainbows
They’ve lied to me when I worried
And left us all waiting with sorrows
Age is a number, and time is fast
I have no record of the highways past
I get lost in this god forsaken place
Where the wind has brush-burned my face
Each day is a foot stool gently tapping,
The Earth as it carries its blessings
Its each branch the window is rapping
And while we cook our meals and dressings
The starving die, the rich soon falter
The poor are praying at each dirty alter
And giving is good, while nothing is cheap
People wait for forgiveness while they hide
Under their lying bed of a ragged heap
Hoping for some angel to confide
Gabriel, will she come?
When you’re the monster you’ve become
Can Satan heal you, Can God forgive
May Hitler’s hair be golden?
May Segregation be all you live?
But are you helping man be whole again
We can teach each other how to live
We can be come one in all we give
But we will never be the same
For we were meant to be just as we came
Naked. Vulnerable. Worthy.
|
|
| poison headache |
[30 May 2006|01:01am] |
"Mechanicsburg"
The welcome sign to my town, is like a hand reaching out to shake,
Yet it is a desolate land storm I’ve known too rendering,
It is the same, hot summers, golden leaves, cold chilling snow
I could map out every step I’ve planted my feet
To make something out of almost nothing
The photographic parks, cloudy skies, and the crooked sidewalks
History is a place where hoodlums place their mark,
People displaced and jumbled together without hello,
High hopes, covered with vacant stories and cigarette butts,
A mechanical place, and a forgotten space,
Who dug the first ditch?
Who drew up the blueprints in this mix-matched town?
And did they know how it would bloom into silence?
Ignorance is bliss here.
A street fancy jubilee, turned street business home
A mix up society and unison of race,
With a hate against the likes of each other
A population never to be counted
And chaos and confusion like rain and shine
Newspapers come in, to be a drainpipes dream
Dirty streets, retirement blocks, and white trash buildings
And the youth can’t even see how it’s become
Ah, but the mystery of the boring, tiny, unknown town is ours
With all history at its feet
And the townspeople are all a pawn in this madness.
----------------------------------
Factually romance is past tense
Who pays any debt to their faults?
To the climax of destruction
Will never whole fulfill you
Sinfully to be whole
While summer dreads its passing
My nerves ache
And kisses are too sweet to be real
Than surrealism
Beauty, I promise by your deeds. Don’t forgive.
--The mothers strength is yet to terrify him
your sin is timeless you your age is few
We are each others wall: so,
Live for today, don’t wear the shackles
I did…and I pay for the debt
And imprisonment is no virtue
|
|
| A crazy reflection.... |
[12 May 2006|04:37pm] |
Making love is a death as sweet as sin
it is lust, for those who’ve cried.
Had he not admitted his false truths of romance
Before my innocence was drank till the last drop
Stay strong, while you fall off the cliffs of security
The hearse will come and take, for your deaths sake
We were the mad, but we aged apart in words
To pursue is to leave without a goodbye
No promise to heal the scars carved
From a generation of warning, and weapons
In wasting life in the kiss of a better feeling
With the season of growth, I’ve waved goodbye
As their adult faces were in perfect symmetry
Watch, these back roads turn into highways
Take me away to boast, for a higher standard
To leave behind the jealousy, for vengeance
The fathers grave, and the mothers sweat
Futures, I know can dismiss a question
My body craves procreation, my mind dismisses
So bullets will no longer lodge in my chest
Within these stories, and exaggerations to show a new
Not from the past, but for a false present
The first days, I’ve learned evil, and game board faces
Pass through these grades, like a mountain ledge
First there was the stab of deceit, then there’s goodbye
We’re still lying in the front seat of my heart
While we sinned.
Now understand your trail of demons, giving angels
Tall-tale lips will kiss away apprehension
No woman believes, her child will open its eyes
When you close your eyes, and embrace a life
No tombstone believes, it will bear an age
While the seasons, force it into a mossy aphorism
This is where my ashtrays are seated
In me reality is a scare, and the faces aren’t enough
A person fears death in a slumber
Praising all the higher powers
Its not enough to go to a better place, without them
A praise of a good day, and a bad tomorrow
Too often I’ve seen them all dead by addiction
We have rules that break our wills
Tear the flesh from our bones and the smile off our face
The silence speaks for us all.
The speaker still screams
Let the tears flow down our faces like dew
Of a morning of mourning
We will see what its like to lose your battle
When the casualties are your memories.
|
|
| insanity rhymes |
[05 Apr 2006|11:40pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 dirty |
] |
Late night typing
On the keyboard my fingers did dance
Came a pleading for innocence
A cryin’ for retributions
Flooding back angry memory
And all its reflections
Its wills and resolutions
Every word that I make
Stands as a transparent point
And leaves no answer in my heart
Midnight brings another memory
As a hope it gives and will take
1:30 am
The words have murmured
The words have shuttered
The words cry, “Let him die for
How he used the word love
Then he changed it to goodbye.”
I see the sunglasses those men wore
They hid and left you there
And you can only see the small glare
From the corner of their eyes
Stabs like a knife for imposed sin.
This life can be lonely through every lie
A blur of maniacal people
A hailstorm which cuts the skin
Every so small, but ever a scar
As if to remind me
The dates of the tremors
Cruel and unforgiving
A tear duct in one eye snaps
A salty drop that holds its shape
And is ready to drop
Soon 2 am
The words filled my head
“Will I ever get out, I must get away”
Dwells in my skull
And eats at my sanity to make me decay
So my heart pounds, frantic,
Getting louder and swallows a girl that was learning to heal
I could find the words to find a relief
I have seen the sentence of defeat
Seeking to find a light through tainted trusts
I am an old girl with stab wounds still gracing my back
Stung on my skin and held on my hurt
It becomes three am,
The bed feels like a savior
The bed feels like a tomb
The bed holds me
“You made love,
Right where your head lays”
It smiles an un-ironed smile
It looks crumbled at my dismay
It smoothes itself out and pretends its yesterday
The walls have lost their memory
A washed out change in a time long ago
The smell of booze, and adrenaline perfume
Lingering in the bottles of the room
With the same society purchased smells
That sickens and excites my brain
For the memory then strains
And the dream sets its course
And reality sends eyelids open wide
With cigarettes in two fingers
To find the feel of sleepy eyes in her sockets
The ashtray said,
“Three hours till 7:50,
The time where you must go to school
Dreamer!
You must close your eyes
The ashtray spills out dismay on the floor
Dirt.
Back in the sheets, the anger pierces the skull
“Take your hair down, and sleep for tomorrow”
The lacerations then set for the memories of sorrow
|
|
| only one thing I did wrong... |
[05 Apr 2006|08:09am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 sick |
] |
I've been trying new things
Let me speak without ramblin'
Let me write fully rememberin'
For it's hard to be someone
Yet I am a poet
I am an artist by the terms of what i've done
But what I've done
Has just begun
I never thought i'd be lookin'
It's hard for me to count all the funds
I've always been just who I was
and it was only because
I've never able to count them in my head
Of course I could do it if I wanted to
But I got to thinkin' about deceit
This isnt me . . .I've lied to myself
A plot to avenge my name, to prove a life
Wealth over my own health
This strangles my brain
An' proves i've never truly believed
To quote Escher
We adore chaos to produce order
An' I know I wanted that
It's not right to defy the odds
I truly believe it took a toll on my years
This toll, left an empty pocket
I dont think it was any better to leave that empty
I thought I'd focus on myself
If no one else could I'd figure out myself
Classmates ask me now I could write and draw
So Blind
No presense of mind
Petty Mama and Papa taught filled heads
This makes me think I am strange
This makes me think they've beat me
Yes above al my paitning, pieces an points
All the displays I've earned . . .thru all the compliments
I hear. . .thru all the dreams and actions I've taken an' events
I've been . . .a voice says "You need this to be like them"
Who are they?
Dreamers who died for their minds
Dreamers who paved the way for change
but you gotta be just that good
Study, study, study
I was never meant for facts
because who says anythings a fact
aint no one tryin' to change a theory
everybody takes them to their universities
You got your isosceles triangle
So let me keep my angle
I never cared what degree that angle was to be free.
I ask myself why,
And if love is a lie,
And how I could pass this tear
I've been carrying around this town
And It's still weighing me down
Into a burial ground
For just about a year
I've seen new faces
But they've only left spaces
'Cause I know trust is my fear
And they wont break me
In a high degree
Yet I still aint free
For just about a year
I still can see the memories and tears
I still can hear all the laughter
I still can taste all the kisses
Oh, my hearts been a scrapbook
But some pages have been overtook
Oh, yet they will never end 'ever after'
Don't let me suffocate
Relieve me of this weight
When it's been too hard to persevere
And If I could see the light
I could just give up my fight
And see clear
For the next year
I still can sense the pain I faced
I still can feel the sting of their lies
I still remember being replaced
Oh, I'll never forget
Oh, though I may since regret
Oh, but it can only make me more wise
Please change my pace,
From this past livin' place
For I know it can't just disappear
and I, forgive through questions
I've been told not to mention
'Cause It's been just about a year.
|
|
| I shit on talent.... |
[15 Mar 2006|06:24pm] |
You turned your eyes from your family and friends
Never again to lend a hand
To the young girl you brainwashed to gain
She now must see it was all just vain
Well you've closed your eyes to your life
To all the strife and let it be
Now you cant see
That Everyone wants you dead,
No one is your friend
Killer you got the voice to allure
Killed that little woman in sorrow
Made love to say no more
It was all just a name you could borrow
Well you've closed your eyes to the world
You had them all whurled let it take its course
Gathered up your resource
But everyone wants you dead
No one is your friend
Little girl too poor too long
Rambling stories and sang her songs
Remembered, and ignored all her past
Now she is alone, everything cant last
Well you closed your eyes to a few
Her eyes are filled with dew, nothings worthwhile
Alone and waiting for a smile
No one is your friend
Everyone takes you for the dead
Don't pretend. . .
|
|
| this sucks.... |
[13 Mar 2006|04:24pm] |
|
The sun lays heavily and happily upon the streets
The time of the past my mind repeats
It was the season I was awaiting
I thought I was so ready and waiting
The sun gives no events as I so thought
A day with a smile leaves me distraught
I could become a parent indoors
Or I could travel pennilesss outdoors
Ive heard their speeches of love
That I am the best they think highly of
Yet they leave me here waiting
Devoid time they said they were anticipating
I love them both and I wont deny it
But I didnt choose the life she commits
So why start early, rob my young time
I havent gotten rid of my everchanging prime
Stereo summers, tired wearing heart
Quiet, untelling, ripped apart
I require less pity than you perceive
Please not new aquaintances deceive
Why start a new? Why hope for better days
When the old ones stray
I live in my past, I'm too terrified of the new
I am the girl that lives in the blues
I saw it all happen, I promised I would
But I am not willing to compromise where I stood
I remember it all distinctly
But I finish the letter with yours sincerely
too corrupt, too unreal, too demanding
I tried but gained time understanding
For even as it was taking place in two days
I was not even given a thanking gaze
Touch is way too repetitive
I wont fight it as if I am competitive
If you want that life, dont leave me sitting on the side
If you need me, dont show off your pride
They hold each other in love
As if they're dirty meeting came from above
How can it be she got that boy
When I got her lies, and seen as a toy
I cant talk about her love, although my friend
For I know nothing except a bitter end
But its alright to take all that I've ever cared
Tormenting because it wasnt mine, only shared
I am writing in confusion and rage
They believe I should turn the page
I cant pass this, if I cant find an absolution
When they've all found their own resolution
Be angry back, ask me why I would say this
Why you would sit around and reminisce
On things they're "sorry" for
And why they're faults are such a chore
I am fighting myself, I am building courage
So I too can encourage to discourage
Leave me here to my angry loneliness
I'm used to this and all deceitful aloneness
|
|
| only discusting notes, and starts to poems |
[02 Mar 2006|08:59pm] |
|
My hands are shaking and small
To the ticking clocks hand upon the wall
The day a year ago caused me great strife
Is now promising a change in the birth of a life
They took my love when I was weak
The west tells me our chance is bleak
The images plague me
My fault they say it must be
She has her lovers, and I have none
The tyrannical and silly are making me run
The laughter that tears my brain
Like the screaching wheels of a runaway train
"Be happy for me" they quake
But they never think for my sake
I'm tired, dirty and restless
I can't be happy for you if I feel hopeless
I wished they'd leave me alone
I wish I could silent the alarms of the phone
I could take the time to write up my thoughts
I could untie all my knots
He will take my place
Left to find somone of another face
I need to you to need me
If you cant, leave me be
It's a petty game that I feel
But who's petty is who's real
Faux hearts, games, and tricks
Make my soul weary and sick
It is rearing the corner...
--------------
Could it be that he might have disappeared?
Buried like the dead wife tears resting in the old mans beard
All clearly just memories but lack such hope
As I hear the clinking of his jailcuffs and his hangmans rope
Circles on the exitway left me forgetting death
Laughing in lust and getting blamed for taking the baby's breath
The harmonica buzzing shifting my skull plates
As I'm watching your jury trial with your eyes grasping fate
No baby blue, you're head so drained of who you were
That your chocolate bar eyes, have turned to the clearest liquor
Stop running, stop hiding, you're not hurting anyone
you'll never be her son, you'll never be my one
You're a hobbit, a lecher, a secret, a liar
You graze over your market in search for a buyer
The cement stares were hurting me, hurting inside
I realized what I was lacking and what was to confide
----
My blank stare caresses the glass
while my element sees its atomic mass
electricity runs through the walls of my dungeon
who is forever, that forever turned eon
plot out the symbols, and throw me a dime
make me a candle and rejuvinate me to my prime
----
I've only loved a menacing tight walker
a cripple, a canvas, and fast pacing talker
phone calls come in, and their put at bay
and the love fades out with the passing day
its ridiculous to think that he could love me
and i loose my sanity with every plea
and im growin' angry knowing he will lie
to the next girl that touches his thigh
------
Theres time to grow and time to die
Theres thickets and fields with tearless skies
I fill them all up with fantasies and songs
Disregarding truth and writing my wrongs
I'm a crook with a loaded musket
Hunting all the reasons for debt
The remodies the prescription drugs
Have all been kicked underneath my rug
They've woken me up, they've sorted me out
They've drained me and left me with a drought
The empty caplets under my lamp
Have turned me into a skeleton vamp
----
fate and lies transcended from a city
only to demolish my town
in the rubble i learned real anxiety
stolen jewels and broken sound
as the night stole an amour
but as well my friend, secrets hidden
from the sister and a girl well armored
and in the cold i wrapped myself in linen
come back to me i cried with indulgence
love cant be lost, i've not a honest friend
I have spoke these words ever since
but these pages are all ive got left for my pen
let me tell them of my true meanings
my gifts arent granted yet, yours torn
what did he mean by all those pleadings
his beautiful lines felt as if a sword
but the blow hit him hard when he lied
he fell like a vagabond into the riches
not dare to dream, it was a fail to try
sewn into hearts and heads by stiches
i was left here searching for a memory
to smile like a child, to forget to remember
fairytales were warlike stories
and i blind eyed forgot to an ignorant slumber
the smile i will never get back
still dead inside, like the letter i wrote
turning into a creature, in a shackle
a longing anger, a longing to provoke
a forgotten stranger, a broken partner
a aging girl, for a penniless world
give her all my tears, i'm just the gambler
i make the bids, i never got my pearl
waiting for anything, but more for him
to see if these nights, are worth my dime
if there is a metamorphosis in a hoodlum
to see if ive gained wisdom rightly sublime
-------------
Lizzy was a small town angel, she knew her backroads
She sung gospel hymns, and straight-laced odes
To her friends, relatives, and anyone who could hear
For she was a grandbaby of the king of whiskey and beer
"Listen to that girl talk" the southern wrinkled dame exclaims
Sitting in their chairs as she spoke of all creekbed games
She was a baby girl from a northern state with a german mother
Falsely thought Polish, carried to her father in a mindless souther
The tadpoles, crawfish, toads croaking in the midnight
Dirtied her hands, from her fair skin so white
Freckles displaced the milky essense of her skin
And her hair changed to the colors of her daddy's gin
Lizzy was full of imagination, not like all the others
And with the winter, was given a angelic little brother
Traveling the traintracks with dirty hands and moutain bikes
With a pack of heathens and taken forbidden hikens
A tomboy in her prime, curls trailed down her shoulders
Green eyes flashing, taunts and tricks were like boulders
Stitches in her head, and lies on her back
Just to save the few friends whos favorite game was an attack
She wasnt the prettiest face around that grungy town
Her crooked teeth smile, made them frown
Her parents took her to where she was born
Held the same kids who found her yardsale clothes a scorn
She was kind enough to make friends with the queens
But not wise enough to hang with their scenes
She tried hard enough that her curls turned straight
Her metal mouth turned pearly, but she could still not relate
She needed to meet the others who were never right
The other kids who's faces looked just as out of sight
The ones who's hair bled colors of the color wheel
The safety pin angels, and sharp like a stiletto heel
The brown in her hair bled out red
(reminder to finish)
|
|
| this really sucks...i'm so fuckin' full of food... |
[16 Jan 2006|04:07pm] |
Can you hear him using you in a word on the telephone?
Or is just his sleepy eyes whispering for him to postpone?
And the girl rubs her treasured ring, and they both don't want to be alone
I wasted more time on one more ignorant male
My tounge is dry and my mouth feels stale
I make one more lustful attempt just to fail
And im countin' out my ones, just to pay for my bail
The dirt and the treasure, fell into each other
As my head hits the wall, feeling sad for trusting another
In the dirty motel, we drank until I died inside the whiskey
I keep making promises, hoping my lust is not to risky
I can here them driving away, softly in the rain
Watching happiness, and feeling myself confront my vain
I can hear him telling me one more story, by my lost love
And I gag inside, festering thoughts of dwelling on that pain
But, they gyspy couple is all right and so sweet
While I here the sounds of one more nights defeat
my mission is once more incomplete
But the morning he will bring me into an embrace
As my head hits the wall, feeling the weight of disgrace
Now, I can feel for Rosemary, he treats her like an queen
He looks with admiration, with their age of eighteen
And he tells me she's amazing and regards her as a pearl
And sweetly carresses her stomach for he loves her little girl
He's a dirty vagabond, and he's got all the looks
and is a prince in her eyes and sidesteps all the crooks
Why can't I find this treasure?
I've looked and taken every measure
But my head hits the wall, for i've found only miserable pleasure
In all my minds pathways, I'm only a travel's beast of burden
The only thing that calls me for love is my fountain pen
But I'm wishing still that I too could be a longing worthwhile
I wish both would see me as a precious Lily of the Nile
They see the hours, the gasoline, and the tickets
I hear the chirping night symphonies of the crickets
They too are calling for their lover, for a embrace in the thickets
Oh, I'm just a tool again, love is drained from my face
While my head hits the wall, I've fallen into this lonely place
The boyfriend is taken, I'm repeating an afflicted crime
But they got away, and I only serve their jail time
But just like they tell me to let time heal your wounds
I'm falliing into traps with the knives and harpoons
And i've watch everyone dance in happiness,
And I'll sit in my gown feeling one more less
But I'm supposed to confess
Against every unworthhiness
Hes stolen all he can under his drunken voices drone
My enemy is my ringing of my phone
Leaving me sit here feeling too alone
But It's just how it is, I cannot see into my mistaken future
While my head hits the wall, bleeding for a suture
|
|
| you've got a lot of nerve |
[12 Jan 2006|06:27pm] |
Philosophies, Epiphonies
Grass stains tattooed on ripped jean knees
Cries for the child who fell on the ground
and cried in the field without making a sound
and the church bells echoed over ambulance sirens
which emphasized the grinding of the train wheel iron
Her white christmas jeans once covered in earth
now show of their value and not of their worth
with creek stream salamander hands
she filled her toy bucket with crisp dirty sands
and she grew too old standing on the hill
the child grew old and wrote up her will
from the spray painted town too small to make a sound
she kissed and wrapped her fingers around
her pencils and pens and threw out the time
in the trash cans covered in deceptive grime
the recycler takes it and stores it in memory
and feels his heart burn with her notebook story
a crimson dead flower stored in her pages
valued not all the money in men's wages
for her mothers words echoed on a mountain
to the florida youth of that of a fountain
and hawthorne's dr. heidegger blushed at his lesson
from Wicherly's face the gentlemen were caressing
the corner of her lined notebooks
pulled words out of storys and quotes of crooks
her automatic engine with the dark red paint
denounced her time in a town so quaint
and the marble filled museums with ivory walls
inspiration poured from art filled halls
Find what your chasin' and steal all your fears
logical instict from her tyrannical years
for the moth ball smell enchanting your sweater
she'll love you dearly if you'd only let her
and you'll wear you're dead lighbulb to its death
and stare in the dark smelling Hag's breath
and succubus with lechery, provided the tables
and Elizabeth founded at all the years fables
through Cynthias cancer and Charlottes distraught
She found Marie in the drug bag she bought
and Laray is growing full of a eighteen year story
Alan is dead and theres nothing left of Corey
And Lisa's in the kitchen providing the lesson
With old Alan is starin' and not correctly guessin'
his side stepped sadle and his fallen down appartment
While lucifer's laughing at all their regardment
A whirpool function turnes into a dimlit funeral
and the herse drives down the street ignoring its call
the little girl still stands with her ponytail full
with her crooked teeth smile and her imagination jewel
Their all laughing and killing her youth
and makin' their jokes and gagging on couth
They hub-capped her skull and she bled with her stiches
and lied for the initial toothpaste which was wrote by witches
She sits here watching and its almost a joke
the years she remembers is drown out by folk
the black hands, and the white hands are all stained red
from their outside conscience and the pathways they led
The hallways are movie theatres marked off from cheaters
and it doesnt exclude the teachers who think they're leaders
[[still workin' on it]]
|
|
| felt like i should put his here...for collection.... |
[11 Jan 2006|12:53am] |
Rambler, Gambler
Dusty dark roads down railroad tracks
Bluegrass fields weigh upon our backs
Holding me up from life’s reality attacks
Of the hacking of hope from my mothers axe
Trailing bread crumbs replaced by empty cigarette packs
For there’s miles behind us, and we’re too busy crying
She brazenly plays harmonica tunes
While I raise my tired voice to sing the blues
Experiencing revelations of my musical muse
Stumbling upon the crossroads of which to choose
I find what I was born to lose
While closing my mind to the distortion.
For my tools are my trades for sharpening my blades
and painting watercolors of sleepless shades
we silently write metaphors to play charades
Just to fall down where we once laid with the jack-of-all-trades
for the deceiver bleeds a disease of conceit
With her Little Rock far away kin
and my fading Crab Orchard gin
We take our crumpled dollar bills to the dirty roadside inn
To taxi cabs, sky-scrappers, and sin
To achieve the intense staring in the sun.
So if you can with a master plan
speak your defense of the modern man
now with miles ahead, we find what was first sacred.
He plays the old, worn, archaic acoustics
Till a tear falls out our eyes to the mosaic of his lyrics
The tears that reminisce for lies in our Judas’ tricks
And for the said poets who dreamt and died for their limericks
Strengthens the hungry artist's brushstrokes and the musicians old fix
Leaving flowers bloom for the graves holding imagination
Once a pirate king preached beautiful things
Until the sudden, snapping of his violin strings
Her sweet symphonies of love flowed like Colorado springs
And we wept in comparison to help ease the stings
Our notebooks spoke of nonsense and reckless, lustful flings
For candy from a stranger’s hand screams danger
The dark devious master with an evil smile smirking
Along my mind ways he always stands lurking
While my sleepless, racing mind stands reworking
I question his presence in my thoughts he is shirking
Like a undead raven that reserved my heart for perching
His love was a crime I’ll never live up to
But I was his tool, and I played a fool
Both of us marching under dictator rule
But although all miles away, we hold their tongues
Some say we're too artistic
Too speak the ground rules for being realistic
But their too inarticulate to see that we can be linguistic
Proved to shock your tattered hearts turned quickly sadistic
And yet they tell me I was uncouth and must use an euphemistic
But they fear the world viewed as it should be seen.
The friend, the memories, and the lies of three
All of them bend and repent on their proposing knee
For they’re bleeding, thinking I do not see
Their deceptive hidden secrets hid so secretly
The burdens of lies were hovering and growing on top of me
Weighing my back down until it bent
I can now see the road on which I am bound
My mother holds a ball where my nerves tightly wound
And plays games for our two person battle ground
In the decaying of my motivations I thought were renowned
For then I cry and shrug and begin to turn the other way around
For I can’t make this loveless entrance and a lonely exit
So if you must tell me lies
To help me criticize
I'm too romantic to wear their chosen disguise
I have a strong winded heart, to wear in town
If I can for a moment step forth to my name
If I can too make a statement in the game
I would remember that imagination is a shame
That life was meant for mathematics and always taking aim
But I would die anyways if life was always the same
It's a running race to see who can appease the other.
I am seeing the vast oceans of my unseen childhood
On a dripping canvas on which was never understood
Why my father was the victim of all he withstood
Just like the shelter that I thought could change me for good
But its all a liquored potion that I drank where I stood
Along the changes of my footsteps.
Sinking along the trudges I come back to my path
Ignoring the risks and the outcome of homes wrath
The flowers are lovely and I must not consider to do math
Of the times I'm drifting until hate has chilled my drawn bath
Outcomes close the night with my fake primrose path
It's mistakes that leave me here drifting.
So don’t stop stepping'
Never mind a bruised shin and a bump on your chin,
Within the words of my mothers chagrin
She died long ago, with the youngness of her heart
I stop along and lift up my shoe to rip off the sole
For the sharp rocks in our path have cut a large painful hole
But the signs in the window require shoes snapped the patrol
As we ran straight past him while he was taking a stroll
We were the bare feet characters and not the sophisticated Creole
For we all have our wings and our crooked hallows.
The horizon births a newborn sun
Along the skylines echoing our yawns
It's the wonderment of what the day will bear upon
Even with the crooked delinquents and the godly one
We're all saved by the terms of our gifts and our pawns
Its stated in our childhood alphabetic blocks
I couldn’t say what the road brings our world
I still cant comfortably admit how much its whirled
Me around, and my cards in a row thrown down unfurled
I've been as honest but a target for the darts they have hurled
Nights that I have fought to long for hopes from my pen that I’ve swirled
You can only stop and start
Yet accomplish majestic art
While sending out a message to all who get pulled apart
But we can all take heart, for we're in the end life’s nothing but a Broadway play.
|
|
| sitting on a bed in york city... |
[11 Jan 2006|12:24am] |
if liquor is quicker
and indulgence is a sin
then your words make us sicker
to only teach our dead eyes no win
your lies are superficial
and your war is destruction
your bomb makes me fall
you leave me without function
but its lonely and alone
while i hear the soft midnight moan
if it is just one more day i must pay
a cry on the city stairs
leaves my heart penniless
our young, wild hearts too unawares
but we can see through your pettiness
why woudl you worry with a loaded gun
ranting and raving and pulling the trigger
if ive killed her daughter youve, then you killed a son
the wound rips open and grows only bigger
sing for the baby to weaken the mother
cry fake tears for my unguided brother
im gazing blind at the one from staring at the sun
black lips dont feel as good
as they did through all the decadence
I know I dont do what they think i should
but you cant love through your fence
charred imaginations blind, twist and scorn
and you watch with tired eyes
you're heart is bent and your soul forlorn
your menacing is buried down with flies
come down from the hill in which you rest
for im the only one that knows you best
i cant give you, what you deserve on his wide angle curve
--------------------------
what am I, who am I now
I'm killing senses to weigh down on my brow
and im cryin' for justice
and im shootin' to miss
and im singin' to surpress
and writing out all this mess
while starvin' and shakin'
and my body is achin'
for ignorance of no hope
and struggin' to finally cope
I am going too fast and im movin' too slow
while watching them all draw back their bows
who do you take when your story dies
and how do you forget their apparent lies
for an anxiety cry
for all the compassion to die
for tryin' to live while crossroads approach
and i stamped on the lover or otherwise roach
its the left or right
and it requires a fight
cranking my heart with a wrench
and killing the tired wench.
------------------------
you're posess our aries fights
and some crazy drunken nights
but your stories are the same
and she isnt the one to blame
I cant believe without trust
but ramble please if you must
she might stand in my doorway
so im keeping this at bay
your words are already said
in the lies in my burden filled bed
i like your touch
suddenly i feel like i'm cravin' too much
your handsome and your mean
and you're strivin' for a scene
while scratching my knee
as I write this secretly
I want to know you care
and believe your pale blue eyed stare
but im holding my guard
'cause im charred and barred
ill wait it out just to get lost
whatever the cost.
[[trajedy meets, dirt and compassion...while shootings are up the street]]
|
|
| drinking coffee at a diner; impressionists on my brain |
[11 Jan 2006|12:15am] |
slinking Manet with his dead toreador
as his 'Olympia' fell off her bed to the floor
classical Venus offended by Victorine Maron
for the cat at her bedside to her position as cortison
the impressionists gazed from Waterloo Bridge
from sunset, at dusk, while staring down its ridge
the House of Parliament was effected by fog
their optical mixing caught a park traveler with his dog
Monet water lilies painted in his home Giverny
The tiny brushstrokes were a collaspible tube plea
Degas saw a 14 year old dancer
he painted all his foretelling ballet prancers
Cassat made this into a mother and her child
before the Salon des Refuses called it all too wild
to paint so fast was such a hypocracy
without dimension when spurred with robbing photography
Renoir's girl was arranging her hair
and they still could not hide from Victorine's stare
This all made attraction suddenly scarred
Which made a way for the setting of Avant-Garde.
========
the romanticists were in a european town
until the americans created their own crown
rip van winkle in a land of the dutch
used other peoples problems to make his own crutch
it made a future for superman and indiana jones
all adventurers too imaginative to be realistic drones
the nature was too given a voice
and realism couldnt break or take their voice
to carry out to the countryside
where no one was held back by any city pride
[[I would love to work more on both]]
|
|
| ha ha english class.... |
[11 Jan 2006|12:09am] |
It’s Not Always Once Upon A Time and Happily Ever After
If love was a fairytale as that of common tales
Filled with beauty and chivalry as the story unveils
We'd live happily ever after in bliss and in victory
The perfect ending without a farewell valedictory
The peasant would overcome her labor and loss
Find her prince and be pampered in glitter and gloss
Each finding true love without ever thinking twice
Their life filled with love as sweet as sugar and spice
Although it would be the ideal thing to choose
It seems as realistic love is born to lose
In this reality of burning lusts, temptation and desires
The love starts out strong and soon expires
Not all lose the bet but a lot more feel the cost
The tears, the sorrow the feeling they lost
It's there one day and the next it’s slipped away
On going thoughts growing greater with your hearts decay
It’s in your music, media and your every thought
How can something so desirable make you feel so distraught?
It's rare like a diamond and equally as treasured
Some go miles to obtain it to heights not yet measured
There are no princes and princesses but wars and divorce
It's like a wild ride in life and a lesson with no remorse
Yet we all have the dream we may partake it in once more
For the kisses, hugs, time and gifts from the one we fall for
It's all in the cards for whom may get the fairytale ending
Love can cut us deep and leaves us learning and mending.
|
|
| i dont like people.... |
[11 Jan 2006|12:08am] |
While sitting in the cold classroom i looked at my friends face
I felt a discust at the way she sat in her place
I couldnt understand why these people have changed in my eyes
Concerning their pride and their thoughts ownership to those guys
With my half-sight eyes I shifted away
And my friends laughed while I put my sickeness at bay
So many years I have spent by their sides
Singin' decadence and takin' bets till all the petty lust confides
I forgot the ink that was left from the pen and thought about it all
The way I feel, and how long I can feel this small
I know she's longin' for him but she doesnt understand the real deal
The way he feels, and how a crush can leave him starving for his meal
It's not like my relationship, my heart is taunted and issuing regrets
But the highway is a secret and a lie, and holds all my debts
And our chances are charred by our past lives
That city road traveled only will make us hypocritic's wives
How many times must the road lead on
And how many times must I slam the brakes on
How many times will my throat buckle at the face of a friend,
And these answers are on the line on hold for me to comprehend
I can see me lying, I can see her dying, I can see all the vain
But I can see me throwing it back straight faced and causing pain
From her conceit and for my miles just to get what she wanted
I'd give a thousand dollars if everyone could cease to be haunted.
|
|
| holiday cheer pour toi? |
[11 Jan 2006|12:07am] |
Upstairs the christmas presents are unwrappin'
I'm scramblin' in my mind for their regard
While softly listening to my fingers tappin'
On the boxes of love covered to discard
An' yet i feel no love from the silent clatter
Its all their point of view in my mother's face
For its another last holiday in the cinders
And I silently pull out of the pile one last ace
I look at my fathers searchin' green eyes
My eyes are carbon copy down to the shade
And i run down the stairs to the dimlighted shelter
He follows down to see how i've decayed
An' I listen to his quotes of the quanity of time
The times that I should just give up the race
For its another last day in the ciders
And I silently pull out of the pile one last ace
The time is full of anxiety, a restless cryin'
Thats doing my mind no improvement
For the fuel and tobacco im buyin'
Aint startin' or servin' no reform movement
Stop screamin' your point of view, Ma
Stop feelin' guilt, Pa
You are both are just burnin' us into cinders
And making me pull out of the pile one last draw
|
|
| song? |
[11 Jan 2006|12:06am] |
My mother screams
"Dont waste your time on him, stop being like your dad,"
I cried for my soul to repent
And she chased me down with words, while driving me mad
And she finished with, "What do you have to say for yourself?"
I didnt say anything, but prepare my things to leave
But she said quickly, "I'm all you've got in to suceed,
You will never make it very far without me"
Then expected me to get on my knees and plead
But I stood there and stared with madened eyes
The black lines running down my face seeing how she lied
And I gave her a quick flare of insult,
Knowing full well the temper that would result
But she replied, "You'll come back, you are no adult"
I shoved my hands into a fist
And felt the blood pump through my fingers
Grabbed the knob, walked out, and slammed the door
And left the words in the room to linger
I sat in my cold and lonely car
And I fumbled with the key, to hear the engine roar
My thoughts created one more scar
As I realized I forgot my things
I relunctantly went back from where I came
She stood smiling, rejoicing as I ran down the stairs
As she stood there and toiled
Hoping I'd remember how she said I'd never made it on my own
Not realizing her plan was already foiled
I came back up and was met with her burning cigarette
She blew it in my face, to get my nerves upset
She said, "What a matter, dont have any"
I replied, "I dont need yours, I've got plenty"
She twitched at the thought and her eyes grew large
She couldnt find any to possible allure
Then she showed a sneer and allowed be to pass,
As her defense fell quickly to the floor
And, when I had started and drove down the street
I let out a sigh and took a deep breath
To not feel as though i'd been put to death
But my friend opened her door, and let me in
She showed me human love
And listened to my thoughts
It didnt take much for me to cry
Or to think about the past and wonder why
I know i'm appreciated out there somehow
|
|
| its funny that i dont care.... |
[11 Jan 2006|12:05am] |
She knows how to write in disguise
She knows all the answers to his thighs
Yet she befriends the ones precious to the guys
Thats why she can look in both of my eyes
And tell me such promising lies
Well honey, shes the devil in disguise
And im preparin' myself for just one more surprise
Well she can look in a lens
And get compliments from past friends
Shes sportin' and playin' all the New York City trends
or anything her heart contends
She sure doesnt see how she spends
On things that cannot clense
Her pettyness and all her manhattan dens
Shes a slick cadallic vamp
Or a quick and steady tramp
She can lick all their postage stamps
Turning hearts into many concetration camps
But instead gives me a terrible writers cramp
While a stare at her pictures with eyes dark and damp
But my only sympathy is the low light of the electric lamp
Well lulu misses larry, she says
But larry's too busy mimicking vasquez
I know I was born while oil leaked in valdez
But my heart's as black on that ocean of the quests
Long before the heartache of Cortez
As i hear the soft sounds of Dylan and Baez
While he's a vampire and shes a banshee
As rabid as their helen keller flee
Screaming he's free and let him be
But It's revenge I seek to the finest degree
For telling me stories and making us, three
But I'm embarrassed of all that i must plea
He's lucifer and he's a box of chocolates
He's got the key to my body and that's
All that I can remember and causes combats
With my future of laying in a bed of rats
While I watch a stalking circle of hungry cats
I'm growing weary of all these damn army brats
I swear i'll just never be able to swing like bats
|
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