I Practice My Cartwheels At Least 4 Hours A Day

tonight I
think I'll lay
with prospective
angels.

For I dreamt that when I awoke today there was nothing in front of me.
nothing.

to hold me back
seclude me,
impede my progress

The wall at the foot of my bed, was now gone
or simply invisible

and with it came all the glory of the world and lifes bounty
sunlight, the sounds of nature roaring in
even the cold was welcome
deep in my bones
righted was the course
short were the breaths

the curiosity endless.

Umm, Your Thrones' On Fire.

A wisp of grey washed
over the cracked sidewalks and
through the trees, the
defenseless trees,

the chance for a hollywood
ending, well that hope died
today when
the sun rose.

Staring down an empty
street and wrestling
with all those inner
thoughts,
wait, re-write,
desire?

Who knows and certainly
no one cares,
shrugged shoulders with
the weight of your world
balancing, a delicate balance
mind you.

So, retreat back home
missed chances mark
another X on the
calendar,
go write about
how your heart feels
wrap the paper in leaves,
and bury it.

Fall

Fall is the best muse. Yes, even better then summer. I'm sorry, that's just how the world works. With fall comes my brain working overtime, so yeah... sorry guys, I got like millions of words on pages.




PopRoks!

moon
stars
wind
cold, repeat.

Never thought
something could exit
quicker then leaves
fall from trees

but leave it to you
to go and surprise me
again
don't mind the expression
really I'm honored

worse off already
to battle loneliness
and distance.
so insurmountable,
crushing and ghastly,
even sitting
by the fountain
is difficult.

the hurtful expanse
that is
highway, is the concrete
dagger that is
robbing us of our breath.

while Im walking
underneath all my best
intentions, that
won't make it

they wont count in two weeks.

so I tore up every letter
I've written you.

SHUT UP MIGUEL!

I got nothing/no one to talk about.

Instead, I'll sit and write eulogies about the most beautiful waves to exist.
I'll lament about how much I miss them so, and how
they seem to be the most meaningful things to me.

Gosh golly, do I succeed in underachieving.


Shut up marky, no one wants to hear about your shortcomings.


I'll write a story about a jumprope champion instead

Yeah, that'll teach em.

a lesson in awkardness

Seriously, I used to think I was bad, and then I watched this video...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F-6CMFSXIwg


I have no idea what to think after watching that.

Anyone else uncomfortable??

hunks

Today

I saw a fire hydrant melting and
it was awesome because it flowed
into the parade of leaves
that also bled into the concrete
urn.


I decided to take a chance, so I
ran up to it,
and ran my fingers through. Took a
deep breath, and really just
had at it.

sidewalk when she walks, OWNS your face, racoooon face

there is so much i dont
get.

your feelings, for example being the biggest thing.

and sometime, despite my overwhelming happiness

i feel like giving up..

sometimes, i dont know what the point is.

i feel like everyone else will find companionship but me...


blah, shut up emo face.

EDIT: 9 hours later. I have been listening to the cure all day, and crying. my sheets are stained with tears. IM NOT GETTING OUT OF BED, because im weighed down by my tears.

CRYCRYCRYCRYCYCRYYRRYF

Miley Cyrus Follows Me On Twitter

For once, I feel alive.
My hands are exploding with just every synonym of joy you can think of.
I trembled, because of my nervous fear (such is customary when confronted with the unknown). My heart is ablaze and I am not quelling the fire. I've spent a lot of time lately, enjoying everything life/the world has to offer.

You know how life is always hectic, akin to the pace of a coke addicts' heartbeat? Yeah, well

Stop.

Take a breath. Enjoy life, and the beauty of it. Life in itself is beautiful. Stop the constant perpetual motion of the machine of a bullshit life, and let the beauty consume you.

I've been doing it, and it's nice, enjoying simple pleasures like laying in the grass and getting lost in the clouds. Or going out in the rain. Cold rain hitting skin and pavement is a beautiful symphony.

Enjoy it.

You have time to rest when you get fitted for a coffin. Just escape but, escape into reality.

Are there rules against having fun? I'm happy, I'm full of happiness, and I apologize for nothing. People see how I act, and as such I'm labeled "weird", "faggy", and the best, "creepy".

I operate on desire. I mean well but nonetheless get painted into a corner as a creep.

Curse my bleeding heart and my pursuit of fulfillment.

All I want, and continue to strive for is happiness.

I will never lose my grasp.

I will never falter.

I will never lose my sense of purpose.

Journey on...

My Poop Smells Like Pants

Open Hands

Your heart is so heavy
to hold
and cold

And my heart is a
study in contrasting hues

swelled up under
monochromatic touches

used as your pincushion,
but your heart
is so heavy
to hold.


Grains of Salt

I just
wish I could
spend all day
chasing squirrels
forgetting
slipping in and out of
consciousness
until the sky
is wounded
signaling my retreat
oh, how I wish.

Let The Children Hit The Floor

so, close your eyes

because this will never be

finality.


and I desire the days we can pass
under the cool autumn breeze

holding hands
until you burn them

under some pretense of thoughtful caring

little do you know...

I laugh, I wont judge your caustic reclamation.

I just desire the days you take your hand in
mine.

So, like the bluest sky seen
I wait until you grace
me with your
presence.

polarberz

tonight, here, the only caregivers are the stars

so what do you say?

tonight, let's get in your car

drive, down to the edge of the lake

and throw in all our memories we've made
for once let's be epic,

in our design and execution

let's live bigger then ourselves

let's touch those fucking stars.

Filing A Greivance Against My Life.

No one ever wants to take midnight walks in the cold.

Envelop Kiss Under A Noisy Cloud.

This could be my
greatest achievement, my best year
but I keep drawing blanks

and searching all the wrong
fields, because
empty and full of rain and
sun-tinged whispers

here is where I get lost.

with the sun as my compass, I let out
a cry

the sun, my compass, is falling down
it's bowing out of this fight
I've got nothing left
because

the moon has turned it's back on me
eerily similar to your
betrayal

I swear sometimes, I think the moon
and you are in sync, an
effort to
sink
me.

The Vice Suite

Your Skin

I'm too busy pulling at your ear
while your busy climbing out my window
and my heart is pouring out alongside your
midnight escape

we're defined by the constant
receiver
meet
handset
dance that
punctuates everyday
in such a timely fashion

the sound of your voice
lost on me
the sound, so faint on my ears
replaced instead by

dialtone monologues.


Your Voice

scream til your lungs bleed.
please, baby do me this favor
and tonight let's sing this song
let's sing our song
for no one but ourselves

scream till your lungs bleed
so hard that the stars can hear your cries
yeah, we'll sing until our eyes tear up
until we remember being kids

so let the wind harbor all our ill will
even in the cold, we still manage to sing
so lets scream until our lungs bleed.


Your Dreams

your personality
is measured in each confrontational standoff
each piece of paper you pull
each lock of hair you burn

all the times you lied to me
you were really lying to yourself

try to see legitimacy through silk-covered eyes
while your at it
try to sell all the
salt of the sea
to each and every kingdom

I believe in you
come back to me when you can
broken and weary
transgressed and
seared,
you still
fit into my arms all the same.

Chef Boyardees' First Annual RAVIOLI-OFF!

you're everything to me

the rain-enveloped lies that rise to and

murmur out of your lips

canvas and frame

this portrait of antiquity

and we hate people like you

but since you're honest,

to a fault

we'll forgive you

and wrap you in our coffin flavored\kisses

smooches.



Handmade Hearts

Have sympathy but don't forget to
give it your all and with these
diseased hands we'll cast out all your demons
yeah, this will be a exercise in exorcism
a group venture, to reclaim these feelings
because last time we had them
we left it on the nightstand in the dark
in the middle of the fire
silly stargazer, don't be such a lush!

Here's Your Heart, Now Give Me Mine Back...

I couldn't ask for a better day for my birthday.

It's so beautiful out, one of those days you can just escape from it all,
get swallowed by the day.

I just want to go out to some place and relax under the
sun but since we're in central illinois
that place would probably be the countryside (I don't think they know what a forest preserve is, since there can't be corn growing in it)

but that's legit, I wouldn't mind sitting out in the countryside
since there's no clouds, and nothing but me, and the sun
and the sky,
sparkling with the lucidity of the clearest ocean
or one of those pools of water you dream about when you're dreaming
about getting away from it all
and you escape to a remote place, away from remotes and phones and demands and
you stumble upon a lagoon, complete with waterfall and
water, the clearest, most beautiful water ever
yeah, that's what the sky is like today.
that's the best birthday present I could hope to get.

Restraining Order # 738658697

oh
your cheeks
so radiant

so fair,
unfair really
your complexion can
turn even the coldest
into the most selfless
compassionate
of men

and for good reason

those damned cheeks
feed into that
ridiculous smile

hiding your razorsharp
pass to
beauty
the idea of
you
being so damn
gorgeous
gets tiring.

I Miss You, Frost-Bitten Cheeks!

Oh hey, all two people who read this (hey grandma!) I entered a poetry contest. If I win I receive 5000 dollarz. Plez wish me luck.

Thanks!


Park benches and
picnic tables, scraped
knees and stupid
dreams.

XHAMTU

Outran,
outed and
pierced-through

The disappointment
is measured in the alcohol
soaked
rapid staccato
tsk
tsk
tsk's
that weep out of
my friends' mouths.

Honeymoon in the Bering Sea

Push me harder slave driver!

May my bones turn to dust,
and my skin become weathered,
until my entire body is taught
and my soul is torn.

Oh, beautiful slave driver,
tonight I ask of thee

Work me until I am nothing,
so that my heart bleeds into the
sea.

Punctured Lungs

Special thanks to Martha Warfel for allowing me to use this wonderful picture. She takes awesome photographs, and this is just small example of that. Thanks again, Martha!





Hallway Living

My favorite part was when your broke the vase.

Typical you, throwing a fit
reminiscent, of when you threw the fight
and your explanation
dripped
out of the ears of
everyone.


Another typical
night with
you.
Silent rides contained within
the intensity
of the harshest
storm.

Just another night,
blanketed under night sky
blackened, like ink.
To a destination punctuated
by flak-riddled idols,and
poisoned tongues and
hearts.

Latecomers to the Party Always Have the Most Say

To Be Sung Under Moonlight

Love-
the word balanced on her lips like a shipwreck
or the uneasy captain responsible for leading the crew to it's death
Grandiose in it's design, flawed by the very same hands
that catapulted it's importance into our psyche.

We've spent years building this, we've toiled
under unforgiving suns and across desolation,
to the places where only the wind visits,
and whispers are few and far between.

So, here on our hands, is the blood of our generation.
It was inevitable, from the start this was tinged with
the possibility of failure. And there are no need for apologies
or hand-wringing, as we're responsible for all that has happened.
And the sky cracks, much to the delight of every uninformed onlooker.

They wake up every day, and sleep every night, thinking that their
way out will make it's way into their life.
Perhaps during mid-day, maybe it sneaks in with the suns' dying gasps
at the climax of each day, right before the moon begins it's campaign.
They rest assured, content in themselves, plastered smiles and misplaced
faith.

These are the most foolish, they who buy into love. Swindled by the most treacherous con-man.



The Pieces of my Wish.

If I could,
I'd build a ladder to
that damn
star
that overlooks
my home
looking at me through my window

Eluding me,
So confident
in it's
arrogance, all the while
taunting me.

I'd climb up the ladder,
blade between my teeth
and make that damn
star
apologize

For
all
the times I fell
onto the sidewalk because
of
looking at
that damned
star.





Product Placement in my Casket

Your wish is to be dignified
keep your fingers crossed
and your heart open for
closure.

Beg and plead, then
drag
your self back home.

And I'm weak
but
I'm climbing out of your throat,
screaming
and weary.

Kidnappers Convention

Sunnydays


Drown me in the holy water
dip me with the touch
nurse me back to health
with your negilent stare
bandage, caress
encapsulate.

Put me in the ground
dig into the soft dirt
let it be your lover.

Wrench my bones
extract purpose
full history with
nosebleeds
and heartache.

Oh, what a great day
to put my entire life
in your hands.

I trust you to
not
let me down.

33 cc's of Reality

Hold Your Breath

It's not so much a matter of where or
when, but rather, (and I know this will surprise you,
maybe even knock you out of sync, oh your precious
synchronization)

WHY.

That really is the most pressing matter
question, inquiry, and the
answer

is just lying in liars hands,
yours.

Come around more often, if your
not scared

But you started these fires so what do you expect?
You come doused in gasoline and think you're welcome, but
just live your own life, what your best at
and I promise,

You'll be fine.

I Don't Resist The Bullets, I let Them Pass Through The Emptiness of My Heart.

Master Gunfighter pt 1.


The typeweriter sleeps alone tonight
in the comfort of flames.
To coerce would be a test of strength
let alone an excericse in luck.

When asked questions, one must fix their lips
and prepare for intoxication.

We must travel in this spiral
if I am to prove my love to you.

You are blind, but I have been blessed
with the vision of God.

Let us pray. A man and
amen.

Which One Of You Sold My Shadow?

Southwest Winds

//\\

We
dug through our passions
until our
bones
broke
and our
blood drained
until we were nothing
when our blood left
we were left with
this.


Waste 17 Dead Brain Cells!

We don't need no wood
to rebuild you
no, we got all the wood we need
just took you down from your
cross.
Come on, don't give me that look.
This is what you wanted!
The passion!
The excitement!
Experience! You can't trade it in
now
because you got caught.

You're miles from being on the right track.

Spongecakes!

You're not the only one with problems ya know?
-she let slip out between exhales and puffs of her symbolic suicide
You aren't the only one to bleed onto the soil,
the words mark the exit we decided to take in our quest
for sanity
maybe normalcy
but the wind stings so cold each and every night
maybe this is
wrong?

I'm fighting so hard just to hear my
own voice again
but I'm so tired
and I'm so thirsty.

Jesus' Favorite Vacation Spot.

You told the sun and
you sold my secrets to the wind
and now the sky will frown upon me
the seasons will ostracize me
the coming of night will creep over me
like death
and every day the heat will
wash over me, like the dirges of the sea
and the evenings will shun me.

Dr. Rocktopus

Season 2


Sharing dirty cigarettes
on a sun-stained afternoon
in a techni-color room
desert,
maybe in Arizona?
One of those days you write to a friend about
detailing the gaudy way the sun
imposes his will.

And write, keep writing
to the friends
that sit in their hollow
homes and melt.


Write to keep them away.

The wind blows, and you snap out of your
cloud-filled daydream
but you still feel lost.

One of these days
this room is going to be gone.
And you'll still be lost.

Making
your way
to another
dingy
techni-color tomb.

A Companion For A Loose Lipped Kid.

A Recollection of Murder and Selfishness.


For minutes,
the clock stopped.
When the calf had dropped out of our sights
we immediately assumed the worst

that restless night proved to be the scar
our scar, one we'd share
for the rest of our time
and that night
eating us alive

We've found the calf,
but he's gored on those rocks
near the shore
under the cliff
and covered by life

it seems concrete but that
deception proves
costly
and now, like sun/s/e/t/:r/i/s/e
the calf has returned

trap doors have breathed new
life
into these clay lined lungs
yes, the light has parted
and split in two
the meanings

but now we have our prize
the calf shall run free
and still be lost inside


his blood will be the hue
of contrast
on the rock of which
it will finally rest
and the sun and it's
wrath
will burn it out.

Night: Cold

Vultures are Vultures, Until They Turn Into Your Best Friends

I have this horse drawn carriage
and I'm dragging it to my grave
it's full of cement
oh the harsh unforgiving cement
as a result
my heart
the armor which could never be penetrated
gave up the ghost
and I've won the fight.

Unicorn Trysts

Go Where New Life Awaits You!

I'd jackknife your home
off a cliff in California,
leave your family history at the last hotel
in Nevada.

but your trailer is hard expensive
and hard to steer
smile jerry, you win this round
you win this round


Slumber Party with Hobos

Carpet fire, wood chipper, it don't matter

filthy as rats,
blessed like the prince

the taste for flesh has become too much
for my mind to bear
I've been dirtied with something I can't rinse.

Unicorn Trampolines, with New Names

Flannel jackets line the closets,

I've been planting the seeds again,
listening to the sounds of broken anvils

dropped hard enough, but they'll impact the way

nothing of reason,
mostly the pretense of your discourse
well, the clocks striking twelve again

now I've divorced the thought of
places my heart calls
home,
set the places on fire
and
never to return.

BEARFASSE

I agree with the assessment that your
face needs a shovel
a fucking shovel facelift

And with a voice like daggers
and teeth like...
yeah

you trespass here no more, tonight it ends

Don't hold your breath sitting
and hoping for my letters to arrive
I've burned half
and threw the other half in the sea.

This will only make you stronger.

Sweep Me Off My Feet, Swept Up In The Tides

This is a bunch of stuff I wrote lately. I hope all three of you who read this enjoy.


Moon-Kite

Ah, the streets moan
the incessant bleating of
an impaitent
whore.

I've never accomadted them,
the choice,
I was happy with,
but as such I did suffer some
turmoil.

Piercing through, and
mutiliating
all inside, it takes and rots
never really repaying
instead

a frustrating agent of change.

Shift, for what?
It only slits your throat.
It only robs your right.
You'll die wide-eyed and
furious.

Opaaque

This pack of knives I
procur under my
tongue,
have lost their blood-letting
abilities.

For I've no longer destroyed the hearts of whom I deserve.

Instead now, in my solace I toil. Lacking a pulse.

I strive to feed you
the lies that drown
you,
that let me feel your touch.

Alas, now nothing! A
single
rain drop always lets me know of my curse.

For I'll desire to the ends of the earth
for one more sup.

I will die alone
or
die fuffilled,
I won't die of shame.




Quik Blessing

I've thought and reflected. How for just a moment,
another human
much like me.

Went by in the flash of an eye,

with their own history, stories, triumphs, failures and loves.

And I pray them safe passage.

A Million Lying Plagues

The pavement ocean was signs of thriving.

Here alone, I lived on the edge of the world.

My home, obscured in beautiful foliage,
across from an ocean.

Each day passengers, going to their next destination
in
life.

Silent Streets, The Only Shelter I've Known.

The lakes hold the truth and all it's accord.

Drag them, dismembering
their pale visages.

Reveal then the treasures to us, the knowledge
which for centuries
you have withheld.

You free us from the shackles of a mundane
frantic pace,
run their catching up!
So fast, you need hold your breath.

Tremble don't, no,
it's disadvantegous to.

Keep still, hold your life
close.

Let it not escape your grasp,
pried forth by these thieves.

Canine Dental Arcade

Your sunsets are bleeding
horizons evaporating
Don't let this facade spread across the globe,
Permisvness is not the problem!

Lighten your grip,
the death rattle grasp
has signaled the beginning
of this cremated
procession.

A Outro, The Outro

A set path,
that they have
been led astray.

Im content.

Finally, a whisper to the ocean
and I
exit.

The Summer Symposium

W

we're assaulting your palace
by throwing the shards of
ill-placed glass
an opportunity to strike
is the first sign of
possibility
and
the only step needed
to force your
hand.

Tuxedos and Ash, Highway Misfortune.

He was the biggest, most
accomplished dog.
A prize for his owner!
Oh, how his coat shined,
and he was the strongest
and fastest,
and other dogs fled
and their owners wringed their hands
at this dog.
He jumped, and ran, he cared not.
And his owner was content until
one day
the sun didn't
rise for this dog.
And all his accomplishes were for naught,
and when the owner went to the dog park
he was laughed at,
and pointed at
and forced to leave.
Weirdo.

I Got An Angel in my Blanket?

Trash can living
with mono-syllabic
meanings,
I've grown weary if not
accustomed, disgusted
with this place,
so I'll intrude,
on the rest of the world
and look for my place within it
and chase down the streets
until I see where they really
end.

Quirky-N-Smirky

My footsteps are beating on the pavement
I'm hoping I'm not a
step
too slow.
And behind me I hear them closing in on me
like waves crashing off the shore.
My footsteps beat on the pavement
with the cataclysmic force,
but if they do not
then I will be beaten
So i keep my footsteps beating
because i like the prospect
of feeling your heart beating
for more then just last night.


Vaudeville

You're so afraid!
But we loved it all the same,
and each other
until the ends of the earth
and I'm there, it's
unavoidable.
Pull the rust out of your eyes
and shake the fear
of
your inability to love.

subway trash

Advice from Japan

don't get your fingers smashed when your window of opportunity closes!


Kansas Heat

i've got to find the town mortician, i gotta photograph him on the job.

need to
-catch him in the heat of the moment.
the idea is to
-capture the passion, to ensure its authenticity.



Pelicans and Swans

I haven't done anything but
sit here in this alcove
away from the other
people
and
the stars, and the night sky
or the air, however cool it may be.
no, I'll sit by the fires i create
I'll be miscreant in my nature,
vagabond and rogue in who i choose
to
love.
life is always full of possible destinations
and agendas need to be met.
but for once, let me disappear
i have my entire life to let people down,
tonight I'll be content in dwelling
away from your prying eye
in the depths of the shadows,
subway trash
subway mausoleum.

Plywoodcreek

It's all private
so just let these hands warm you
it's all unspoken
so let's end tonight on the merits
of what our lips
will bring.
Wasted words and bated breath get no where.
Lets be untested in the face of adversity
and triumph in consequence.

The Atlantis Suite, or Alienation Isn't Just A Byproduct of Drug Use

Of Rainy Days, and Troubled Eyes

this prize fighter,
this bull,
a mountain of fury and
passionate unremorseful violence
struck me as ghastly
and cleaned out the last chance I hoped
for and held to
yes, requests for meaning fell
and if I don't feel anything at all,
then what to make of me? Then what to
classify it as? With the whimper
and waning of all history
weighing down my demeanor
is it surprising I clamor for the
warmth and
finality
that sorrow brings?
Push
away these ashes, for I've incinerated
every bridge I've
constructed.


I Love You Negligence!

Speak from the heart
but try
not to let that slit throat be of
too much
burden or
difficulty to you.
Speak up now! Its getting harder to hear
you
through this fog and shadow
the admiration that was bestowed upon
you
for being such a straight spun
weaver of consequence and insight
is now being exposed for what it is
a shield of lies, a sword of misinformation.
Use them! Use them!, The crowd
screamed, hoping that another victim would fall
at your hands, but not this time.
Failure is the only thing you'll taste
on those sweet lips.
Sleep well.

override this function

I found-
I found a heart in the clouds
I found a reason,
I found a reason to get lost with you
I found completion in the caspian sea
or
shipwreck found me
yeah, a shipwreck on the tip of my tongue
please forgive these sunsets,
and help stop the
bleeding.

weak-acid

it resonates off my heart like
a
highschool funeral.

you'll miss me the most on those days
those 4pm phone calls to re-assure yourself
yeah, you'll miss me the most on those days
where the only constant is rain and heartache
yeah, you'll miss me the most
while you write on your
windowpanes
yeah, you'll miss me the most on those days
of this im certain
I grasp this thought and pray
my heart isn't full of lies.

It's Typical Nolan Ryan

I'm somewhere far from
home
in a field full of the dead
and the wrathful sun above
is bleaching everything with it's toxic white glare
including and not limited to
the gaping hole in my
chest,
where it seems all my honor and
decency had slowly seeped out
a mortal wound
for a mere mortal,
losing precious seconds
dead,
in a field northwest of my home.

Shed Your Failing Heart

Im an Olympic caliber scam artist
with a penchant for choking too
i can lie my way out of anything including your
love
promise this
promise when i scream
that youll fill the night sky with the blood from my heart
you'll prove that it existed
you'll prove that

albatross

Springs Broken

You said "Im ready to go",
and without a scream, I relented
but then changed the course of my discontent
You might be ready to go,
but none of us are ready to give you up.
And for that reason alone, can't we hope for the best?
To watch you rise with such grace and fill our hearts
for you to exit our lives in this our finest hour
is just too cruel, it just isn't ideal.
Gone too soon, but not soon forgotten.

i pooped in my pants

I dont know what the appeal is of putting your ultrasound pictures on facebook. When all your good for is staying in the same shit town, with your legs spread for everyone, then yeah you're going to get pregnant. But does anyone really care about the reprocussions of your whoredom?


I sure dont. God, get a better outlook on life, what life is meant, what it could be etc.

So many girls I went to high school with are pregnant right now.


Awesome.

lul

the difference between myself and the john d. rockefellers of the world, is my tendency to create, out of nothing, divine movements and pieces of work, which encompass in whole, the overwhelming nature of mankind to begin and attempt to find himself, in this case in the arena of psychology and philosphy, while they journey to the center of an orange, using but only the fine powder of their former molars to soothe the heartache that winter solstice with it brings.

it was never intentional to disclose the reasons for the full erasure of germs from the face of a disinfecting tampon, but to be fair those skies dont exactly forbode a fantastic time.

suck my (appen)dix

if we could separate meaning from truth
or
vice versa
we might be able to analyze your
faults
as minuscule as you
think they are
lying
gets the best of you
your accomplishments mean nothing
nothing.
if they only please you,
and you
alone
how is that happiness?
when eventually, your cruelty
catches you and has you
in it's grasp, and is thrashing you
within an inch of your life
don't
look to me to be your lifeline.

ill be on shore, but ill be too far.
too little
too late.

hope you enjoy what you've become.
hope you enjoy what you've created.


released

I've been calling you for five days now.
everything
is gone.
you've cleaned out house and home.
home and heart.
i've come full circle.
just to end up back in your hands.
it's time to leave again.
nothing good comes of this.
nitpicking
and
panicking.
erstwhile, i sat
alone.
and today, I begin
anew.

my spleen, my spleen

chivalry is dead.
i know,
because it died
in your
grasp
you stand guard,
attentive and focused
ready to pounce
on any flaw or mistake
and for what?
for something
unfufilling?
for dashed dreams?
you can stand, as still as possible.
you can be a guard. for what gain?
sorry my love,
but you need to live.
wake up.
dream.

matarodian


i have decided to retire from this fight.
i am putting my guard down.
they may ask, what happened?
what is the cause?
as such, ill regress, and never answer.
i've given up the quest for flight.

for, i'd rather spend my days chasing dreams
then stand alone, in this lighthouse
alone, atop the coast
waiting for you to return to me.

the passion has faded.
the wine is gone.
and like the moon, i shall remain in your life, detached and away.
alone, but never truly alone.

i'll still watch. ill return, but
all the while, i'll be alone.

don't patronize me with your concern.
leave, and don't speak.
it's better this way.
it's right

touche, mr toupee

all your conversations do
speak,stop.listen.groan.repeat.ignore
is steer my thoughts
into endless loops of possiblities and plausible concerns
i recall reading those letters you sent me
the remarkable smile on your face, the wound opening
revealing not only your cowardice, but the remarkable grace in which
you carry it.
the same nights go by
and the same dreams die.

if you allow yourself to be bought and sold
by cunning witless ignorance
then your life will remain
as a ship, lost at sea.
without a crew. without a plan.
is it still a voyage if you drift
lifelessly? the listless silence
droning
your beautiul eyes out of this picture.

party time

he's cute. his smile is gold
his intentions are malicious.
you don't or wont recognize that however
you cant see past that beauty
you and your palpable personality
is bandaged and makeshift
you get as far as you give.
retrating back to the graveyard
for a few moments of hollow passion, and meaningless pleasure
at least you tell yourself
the god you serve
and the faith you chase
look stunning
and you continue you continue you continue...
this meaningless journey.

goatface killlaah!

one day

that lark is beautiful.

Ha! Beautiful you say? How can it be beautiful?
For it knows not the joys of playing the harp, or tasting the finest wine
or appreciate the sight of sunlight in your face.

Yes, it's content, but at what sacrifice?
To not know of the joys which you bring me?

Beautiful my friend, it is not.

For what you consider beauty,
I consider a curse.

1.6

Every cold greeting
every waking morning
every breath, fought out of the air
for me to own, and to hold

i appreciate the difficulty. nothing easy
ever came without a fight.
like two lovers under a silent winter moon
not speaking, but being.

close your mouth, for once. for once.
not for me but yourself.
eyes tell more then you ever could.
or would even begin to know.

just promise me this, i am all you'll ever be.
and if you leave, let me keep these winter nights.

airships

I should be asleep
but instead im reading about japanese literature
i guess it's my way of leaving here
i need a vacation.

im overworked, underpayed, and underappreciated. would it kill to write me a letter from time to time?

remember last september? it was fall, and the sky was dying above us?

we drove for miles, alone in the world. no one knew we existed.

and we wouldn't of had it any other way. Fall nights, with the smells
and the coldness of night, you brought warmth to us.

I didnt see you. After that, everything, the feeling, evaporated.

I waved goodbye, but you kept your eyes closed.

I still imagine your face.e
xit

christbreath on the windowpane

the wounded shepard,
wounded
still, he tended to me
I had made my homecoming
to the delight of no one in particular
Immersed in a crowd of unfamilar faces
a certain
hostility was felt
i had secrets, my share
but no one knew, yet
I was still looked upon as an abomonation
I took up my arms and began to figh
gnashing my teeth with the ferocity
of hell and lucifer
I failed.

I've lost

The Antitdote of Possesion
With bleeding eyes, I offer my apologies
My skin is boiling off
my autopsy in progress
my anger with you resides entirely within
the battlefields of emotion
your pale ghastly skin illuminates
my face and misery
and with unsplendid candor
i begin to dissect you
with the chance to one day
consume you whole.

A Handbag Fashioned of Christ
I've spent my entire life on the outlying
islands
I might as well live on Jupiters moons
for when I see her, I stop.
I don't ir can't continue. Whisper how
pathetic i am in my ear.
shes pulling me into the massacre.

The Beauty Of A Car Crash. pt 3.

Miss America, girl next door. All smiles when
it counts. Reckless behind closed eyes.
Assume her to be comprised of simply hormones, fake beauty and alcohol.
What she's lacked in IQ she makes up in Blood Alcohol content
and
and
sloppy blowjobs

She's not expecting it.

Guardrails make the prettiest jewerly
for this fluorescent lipped siren

The last mistake was her eyes

mother, raise children.
all she had to remember them by was screams
and a roadside memorial.

Miss America disentgrated into the wind shield
moonlight an eerie backdrop
to the end of her.

Alone, at the end of the world
Im lost
like little kid department store lost
middle of the ocean
running out of life
but not distraught
Im lost
Im not coming home, again. ever.
I love you.

splendid
All the years of you
gnawing away at my face
have worn thin
caustic hands steal my eyes
before i can object
my tongue seperated from mouth
by use of force
i've seeked to find out when
im supposed to become
final.
but my heart is being torn and slowly split
serves all.

A+B_C

Blood form under my eyelids
your icepick dragging the surface
retinas severed by the force of your
transgressions
consume me for the sake of nothing
it is of no importance if you conduct the
symposium of how to destroy my body
through use of brute strength and trauma
take your hands off from around my
neck
I seek to breathe.

bull

a maggot
sarcophogus cocooning it's being
writhing in it's tomb,
it's mausoleum a reflection of it's shame
he must be destroyed

it's life, splintered
the shards of glass, a bitter taste of victory
bellowing from the treetops
it's aura a dissection of it's values
his morals decrepid, the plagues seeking
and seeping

it's doomed
doom

who will save us? who will save the people?
deliver us, deliver us from evil
deliver us from madness

or we will die

and die alone.

we were always the best at being shameful.

poopsand

like vultures,
fucking vultures circling wounded prey
you cling to meaning
for the sake of reassurance
or in actuality, the sake of bandaging your wounds
as a result of your mistakes
ill soothe you tonight with lies
you smell like cheap perfume
and your breath is hot against my cheek
i hold you, for my own reassurance
but i know I've already lost you.


i am building this, for you, in all hopes that one day
I'll be able to smile at the look on your face
when it all comes crashing down
destroyed
a repercussion to your livelihood
cloak your feelings
emotions burned out, but time past being provocative enough
to draw you out of hiding
to burn you where you stand


the savageness in which you decry compassion
and the beating of your heart
imbrues me with fear

im wide awake.

im dying.

cops and robbers.

This unbearable burden is closer to being lifted off my shoulders. Like walking through deep snow with every step getting harder then the last, and the snow seemingly rising, its only intent to consume you and break you.

I've carried on, but with a chip on my shoulder. Now, i could be pressed to care. which might work out, since i usually only care about myself.
but when your burning bridges, bridges that are years in the making, you send a clear message.

so, i implore you, continue on. see how far it gets you. If you cross enough people, you may be able to die alone. all those who you think about, or favor, or slave to, don't mean anything to you. when you drop, they drop. when your gone, they might miss you for about 25 minutes.. before they get a fix.

I'm over it. home is home is hell. I'm used to it... everything i hate about here, i love equally.

so, in a press statement I release to the world, I denounce the merits of companionship, and friendship, and boast endlessly of the destruction of my sense of certainty, and compassion.

Kneads verse Wands

SEXYFACE

oh baby girl, this ain't right
i can't sit by and watch you spend another drunken night
with someones' bravado and chemical confidence
but still,
you sneak into my heart each night
i claw and fight for you to leave
but you always win

i am everything you could ever need
but nothing you would ever want


Game Over

Over my shoulders, i see the wolves closing in
i run and run and run
through the cold, though the sleet
but suddenly, i stop and clutch my chest
what will be the end of me?
will it be decadence i throw upon myself?
or will the ghosts of past mistakes resign me to
my fate?



fame over
Im not your friend
im here to make you feel better about yourself
im not your friend
im your crutch
im your excuses
im the reason you hate home
im the reason you smile everytime you see me
see, no im not your friend
im just everything that brings you happiness
and at the same time, im not your friend
im just here.

WINTERGAYSEX

if anything
and by that i mean
if dreams were meant to be actualities
and you weren't so damn cruel
winter would never come.

and for good reason.
if we're apart, then the world is right.
let's not disrupt this balance
this delicate nature of protocol and purpose
we're content

but all we do is suffer. we are never truly happy.
and for what means? to appease earthly desires?
well, you know, id trade it all in an instance
for an shot of fufillment.

to feel blood, running through my veins
to actually have it signify that i was alive
and not just dreaming
it would be finished

until then, until my number is called
ill sit, and wait. for you.
perhaps for a chance to feel your breath against my face
or your touch on my skin

but until then, ill wait. ill wait until death.
winter will get the best of me.

winter will be the end of me.

bane

I'm alive.
Breathe.

Your alive.
So they say.

Try not to worry about what they say...

tropic of cancers

These are thoughts that popped into my head throughout the day of sunday.

I really don't let strokish boys from home bother me that much. If anything they provide endless comedy from me. I know that all these jockish winners amount to nothing more then washed up, overweight barfly hollow versions of their former self's. Run up that tab boys, cheers to you!

My equivalent to being sea sick, or just having that dreadful feeling of melancholy and depression sinking is being on the highway for too long. Im sure sailors used to become depressed and tired of being at sea, away from loved ones, with nothing but miles of blue surrounding them.

I get that feeling to when I drive long periods of time. The drive to st. louis or florida are prime examples.

right now i have a thorn in my side, nagging me and constantly souring my mood.

how much would your life had to have sucked to be reincarnated as a cow? just sitting all day, eating grass until your killed to clog some fat kids arteries.

Ballsacks and weeners.

i am slowly slipping into a state of complacency, and im dreading it. i need to break these chains of acceptance, and strive for better.

complacency sucks dick.

hant-cuffd

There are more potholes
in this town

then happy people




So, it's like, let's broadcast every facet of our personal lives, everyday, let's bombard each other with all the details, let's leave nothing out, no stones unturned. everyone should care about every thing that is bothering me, everyone should know what makes me tick, everyone should know what color underwear im wearing, and what my insides look like.

Or, we can wake up every day, and do the same things that bring us such troubles and anger, and issues, and yet never question the repetitive nature of our lives, and we can just let everything engulf us, and beat us down, and ruin us.

Or you know, we could appreciate the fact that we DO wake up every day, and that we have the capacity to be able to find something wrong with everything, and then embrace the notion that we have the power to change our circumstances.

We could do that you know, or we could just stay unhappy and complain some more.

My grandma got Paris Hilton perfume for Jesus Cristos' birthday.


The weird thing is, it actually smells good.

I thought it'd smell like sweat, booze, cheap sex, and cigs, but in actuality it smells good.

damn you paris hilton, damn you!

what we dont know will hurt us.

condensation.

i clung tightly to the aqua tent. It provdided the only protection from the shitfuck combo of sleet beating mercilessly above our heads.

if he hadn't of taken that wrong turn at the light and then almost hit the old man, we wouldn't be here... " were her thoughts.

the lights of fires blazed in the backdrop of the night covered landscape. it was almost surreal, and neither of them had taken te LSD theyhad brought along yet.

mountains. mountains. mountains. more mountains. lake. mountains

how they ended up in some ridiculous, townhouse field on the edge of the forest, smoking meth with two teenagers wearing shitty band t shirts and talking as if they had transcended highness and were on the edge of heaven looking down and laughing at the entire world for not being in on it.

fuck that kid, his shirt sucked.

so did his house, and his meth. but there they sat, in the van, actually since they were idiots, on top of the van as some sort of weird sleet/hellfire combo rained down. aqua tent provided the only protection, and that in itself was laughable.

i was leaving him if we dont move to montana in the fall she thought..


to be continued

chapstik

Men

The night will go as follows...
fuck starry skies
fuck girls
fuck cops
fuckwet
fuck fall
fuck dark
fuck streets
fuck. fuck.

Bar Fight

FUCK THAT GUY
I hate him. Ill make fun of him all night, and shit, make him think im gonna kick his ass
"oh yeah?"

AND THEN HE'LL BE RIGHT, ILL WHOOP HIS FUCKING ASS

Manifest Ecstasy
I will never ask a question of myself I felt had no answer
shit.
answer,
shit.

my beer stained notebook.

ahh! adulthood.


Neustuff



Fear, Good God, Honest fear.


Hearing the city creak along at night,

well jesus, it's funny isn't it?

take a second to collect,

you walking in after a night of debauchery

jesus those 14 shots seemed so long ago.

did i really grope that?

pause, halt your smiles acension.

hear hear. the city, moaning. bleeding.

not sleeping.

the sirens in the distance

piercing the cool night sky.

home, and young.

home, and young.


To Do The Same Would be Doom

It's the same.

when im in my car. traffic.

same.

oh god, that feeling, of just compelte panic.

fear, anger, paranoia.

why am i wasting my life away?

shouldnt i, no i should i should
be doing

SOMETHING.


IWYTTIMUSOSOLZ

IN MY day, snow was snow

and when winter came, there wasn't guessing about if and when

it was when and when

mountains high, siberia in my backyard

slipping on ice, hating the cold.

god damned backstabbing bastard.


LOVES

when there's no way

to hide the desire

the one that burns, compels

fuels?

the one ,that makes you lightheaded

and just overwhelmed with giddiness

and delight upon one persons face

when you view them. when you view them

you melt. you love. you swell.

think of me,

sitting in front of this machine, with no deadline

and a flask almost certainley finished

now say, what do YOU think i wrote about
ps. john steinback,


A Letter To Ghosts.


Dear John,

Hanoi is great it is. Nights are awesome, lots of stars. sunrise, nice. sunset, perfect. people nice here, very accepting. they keep asking about you. i want to see you. as well.
plese respond, living is nice, but getting tough. fought 2 vagrants this morning. stabbed one. crazy. but, to get to the point, i need the cash. you owe me 56 bucks.

thanks

ps. young dreams, dont last forever. nothing does.


MOON\\

I shook the moon with my hand

and watched the majestic glitter

the reflection upon ocean current sky

i made it shimmer.
the night stayed true,.

revews

and it's weird.

all the leaves gone.

letting us see through the park, the landscape.

like a missle came, and ripped apart it's innocence.

we take what we can get.

who's to complain?

tonight i sleep above the creek.

i just want to forget.

convince myself it's really.

over.

skanks.

we're watching the leaves.

we're watching the trees.

we're watching the sky above, a river through the tree tops.

we're watching the drunk stumble in the city.

we're watching him.

we're watching the yards.

we're watching the clouds.

we're watching each other move away.

We're watching windows.

we're waiting.

Azure

I held in my excitement.

I sat and waited.

I no longer feel the need

if you have a need to, then you're missing the point.

it's gotta come naturally. it does

it still does.

Madrid, 1936

the bar was empty.

i didnt need company.

the smell is what i miss the most.

i welcome home with open arms.

for bleeding skies, and the sorrow of every cloud.

it bled on the alter, and i learned to forget.

the smell of fire, the rustle. the dark.

i missed it.

i welcome home now.

with open arms.

sleeping with both eyes open.

comfortable`

an ode to eve

every woman is built on a foundation of, pretty much suck.

you all do. you try to build a facade, a aura of right... the men you choose, the lives you lead, your daily actions.

all in an attempt by you, to do what's right for you. but upon review and analysis from outside sources, it sucks.

materialism. everyone woman, shallow.

and you are all so brain dead and mundane in your lives, it's downright sickening... you all settle for mediocrity labeled "ideal". wise up, raise up.

don't settle for trash. you are all worth better, all deserve it. even those who are cruel and whom karma would choose to be fed to sharks.

you deserve better.

don't settle for the asshole who calls you a dumb bitch, an asshole who is burdened by talking to you. assholes who lie cheat and treat you like a chore. assholes who don't appreciate, assholes who yell, scream, and fly off the handle over simple things. assholes who don't give you the time of day.

why lead that life? why chase?

is it because he's cute? because he looks good on your arm?

life isn't splendid when that's the case. any lifestyle characterized by that is ridiculous.

men aren't even worthy of you, so why lower yourself into mind numbing patheticness chasing something that will never afford you the same dignity and respect you deserve?

in a way women, you are my mortal enemy, and the most beautiful thing to grace my presence.

no excuse me, im going to turn homosexual and lock my self away due to embarassment, frustration and apathy.

i give up.

a collection of sexin' 1(one)

you'll never make it.

there's a song i think of when im anywhere

cold alone, fucked in the middle of chicago.

or cozy and warm in my bed.

it was a welcome feeling.

even when alleys threatened to harm me.

i didnt care.

winter was a son of a bitch.



Midtown

uptown was the makings of wealth

banks, apartments, sky scrapers, newspaper stands.

so i didnt visit much.

i was low-life, downtown type guy

never really acheived much

lackluster life style

the only thing involving me being a straight shooter

or having an aim that was true was

when id piss into stinkin gutters.

i got a postcard from Italy,

or shit, maybe Ibiza.

saving it.

saving it.

if i drink enough gin, it's the next best thing.


LaSalle.

i thought i was all used up.

i wasntso fuck.

the vcr is broken
i got a videotape
it's got memories, lots of em.

graduations, weddings, family reunions, baby video.
gone, if this fucking thing wouldnt work

tracking.

goddamn tracking.

an action packed duel with my vcr is what i enviosned on this summer afternoon.

Postcards.

Yes, I received your postcard.
No, it's not fine with me. (your decision with me)

but you do what you want, and as you please.
so who am i to interfer?

FINALE.

I watch conciensce and loyalty slip out of you.

like a gasp for air on the coldest winter day.

Cold and Early nights sometimes make it worthwhile

did you seriously just do that?

yes, not that you care.

JACKNIFE.

55.

like a dagger.

the entire state of central illinois.

stabbed.

bleeding, bled on the dagger, all the way until we found our way home.

three bottles, and two albums later.

we were back from where we started.

we where nowhere and it was good.

we needed to be somewhere, but were too late, we were sure.

but no one really cared any more.

no one really cared at all.

and driving home at 3 am, seemed to be

perfect.

"Agony, Always Agony"

if you want to make you'r life worthwhile and meaningful, read Bukowski.

whores, part one.

sometimes, when i read the bulletins of my peers, i feel like god must of before the destruction of sodom and gomorrah.

doctor, doctor.

you don't bathe tonight.
in the gulfs.
frost, but quiet confidence.

the girl over atop the cliff
selling faith for nothing and nothing less

abundance of overconfidence
and the sun will see you through.
once you thought you were safe
the moonlight.

and all the air is cool, and the world
is sleeping, calm, tranquil.

conscience will beg at your door.
and i hope your heart swells.

ill send Jorge over right away.

Rivlet no.3

id be better suited to drowning in the deepest ocean
or
pounding my head with stones.
then to stay here.
daily.

rivulet no.1

your waves of lament
wash over me
lament

i can pray to the brightest stars
that my prayers might be answered
the ones who perch high above us all
and still like the moon, i will stay stuck

stuck, stucked.
the moon will bob and
float
in its lethargic mood in the ocean
sleep.

night sky (so oceanic!)
so fair (night sky)

return to me with your song nightingale
let me know im still breathing

return to me with your song nightingale.

A Ocean (or SEA, HORROR)

AT HOME:

I saw the cripple and her companion. The look of delight as they called each other, and the process of helping the cripple into her clothes and onto her wheelchair, both excited to meet the cold!

Grocer:

I wonder if the fat woman cries herself to sleep, or does she know?
does she-
-look in the mirror
recount youth
-does youth make her feel pretty again?
-look in the mirror and see someone she doesnt want to be
does she hate going in public, when she looks in the mirror?
does she cry when she think of what her kids might think of her?

lots:

sean rucker

sean rucker
'
an epihpany in my prose!

im too disconnected from myself, my feelings.

disenchanted, denial, but i never acknowledge direct reasons.

so instead i write prose using lots of metaphors and vague imagery.

Imagine! me saying rainy days make me sad instead of

"i saw the sky brgin to tremble, a million clouds examples of it's brute strength. then it started to overflow, and as did my heart, my eyes began to bleed".

pigeon fuckers.




THIS FOLLOWING IS A SUITE. A SUITE OF POEMS I WROTE IN THE FORST. K.

A Day In Woods:
Leaves.

Mf,1014

There were a million of you shark suckers on the blanket, the carpet of the forst.
As my brain mushroomclouded against the windshield, i noticed my soul still lingering
and the tiny man inside my gums played accordion till nightfall.


TREE

Tree. think about it. think about the universe, the meaning of life, what is reality, creation, life after death, the vastness of our galaxy, all the achievments, the uniqueness of every object when compared to one another which ultimatley leads to thinking about existence and life as a whole and then think.

a fucking tree.


Voyuers

i felt the two men at the edge of the sand were waiting for me to jump into the sea of leaves so they could run in and erase me with thier hands, amongst the silence of the trees.

SIDENOTES.

It's not my fault my brain works at a higher level therfore allowing me to function as a genius.

VOYUERS.2

does the man think im a student now, writing in my notepad, therfore now wanting to kill me more?
damn you, good times video.

MUSK.

the entire east side smells like death and looms like one entrenched in history, looking more and more however like a wasteland.

Snlght

squirrrellssss keep running they blend in amongst the leaves look like a combo of rat and shark.


THE

the hills roll with history,
the roar of the highway makes me imagine the roar of a large lake instead
young couples playing and tranquilty abound.

Fearsuites

The mouth of the beast was open ahead of me, displaying a calm, welcoming invitation to venture in, but i was scared and too reluctant to exit my vehicles of safety.

beige

what if the guy in the truck was cleaning out his sons truck because the night before he was brutally murdered?

tree waterfalls are great.
i realized im writing backwards so the transferring process might be difficult later. damn.

the man over there last purchased a hooker on his sons 8th birthday.
a weeka go.

my hair is growing so fast and curling even more, im afraid i got bit by a werewolf.

im convinced there is a forecutter, a scalper waiting to devour me in the woods.

the last time a woman touched my testicles, i was beggining life anew in a scenic town, perhaps in new zealand, or australia, or hell maybe even california.

ENDconclusion

I deal with alot of of selfish inconsiderate people and since my self worth is cracked i tolerate it.

NOT ANY LONGER.
HAIR=SAMPSON BITCHES.

Firebombs, Playgrounds on.

256 Bones

I never want to be the grizzled old man.
hands worn, heart cold.
putting in work to some selfish bastard
daily punching a clock, signing my death certificate
O-N-E letter at a
time
Living my life (or am i really living) waiting for things
that will never come.

if it does, will i be too frail to have happines encompass my body and fill my heart like a priceless vase?
it's yours to keep, but i cling to nothing.

Ethertrips

My heart might swell like an ocean
my anger might consume me whole
but my jaw keeps me connected to life.

STeals

Everyone else is stoking thier fire
villages, braggards.
i watch from afar
retreating, repeating.

dumb

so it was a nice and shiny day, prolllllly about noon when my world was changed.

pack yer bags, we're movin to montana.

what? why?

(i had just come from new york, i seen the five boroughs, i wanted to visit queens again.)

no. im not doin it.

you dont got a choice

kill that nonsense. give me your keys.

no.

im not fighting with you, this isnt a struggle.

abuse dictates no choice?

and i hated it. i didnt want to leave my apartment. the nooks and crannies and oddities ive come to appreciate.

ying, the newspaper salesmen...Walter the alcoholic carpenter who wasnt home much, and when he was he was LO UD.
patrick, the boy who worked at the grocerer and just got out of college.

im not moving.

but shit, we did.

or so i thought.

And Now The Results of My Study Concerning The Worst Sounding Word in The World.

abortion.

monkeyshiners

september 26th is set yourself on fire day.

as she stalked me from the otherside of the courtyard, with her prehistoric birdlike gait, i couldnt help but look away.

pink floyd presents: sheep

i am the most unproductive no brained idiot ever.

today i sat like a pile of leaves for 45 minutes.

bubbles, thought bubbles, text bubbles, ala a comic book

popped out at me.

my tongue was out the entire time.

i was euphoric.

i was melting into nothingness.

euphoric.

john kerry hair sheen!

What the ironic thing was, as matt lay dying in the fall foliage, was the sound.

The guttural roar of his world being ripped apart, literal.

actuallywas,
the roar of the highway, sounding like a roaring ocean.

his last breaths.

it was comforting.

xx

we'll dial up your entire life

let's put it in this

our shame is our fault

fault counts for nothin' when you're gone

leave behind what you worked so hard

but its easy, it's easy to wash it away in the blink of an eye

it's not your fault, it makes you feel so good.

it's not. you never meant to hurt anyone.

you'd tell us not to cry if you could.

if you could.

close isnt good.

good isnt good enough.

you had the best intentions.

but all the inconviences.

my tongues the only muscle on my body that works harder then my heart.

i got enough cyanide in my tongue to kill a thousand men.

i've got enough poison in my heart to wreck a thousand lives.

id walk everywhere to get anywhere

a testament to willpower (a gauge of progress).

woke up.
and am waking up.

in a strangers bed.

dew, toothpaste, razorblades.

i'll wash my dreams down

an exodus

ill live to see another day

granted.

pride burns going down. a thousand fires.

overrated.

if you'd just give me a chance, to listen, to plead my case.

why play hangman? drop your noose.

echo, echoing through my mind.

the voice of a thousand women haunt my dreams.

you followed me where i sleep?

it's not that bad, not that bad, i swore.

so ill sleep, ill press my head to the sand.

an ocean of nothingness.
just tranquility, and blue.

blue.

a transcript for endings. (or postscriptin' a prequel)

dark center of the equator

beaches on the moon

aggresive

passive
the nerves in your neck keep pulsing


fearoftheinevitable

why keep pushing things

cant stop it's instinctive

i dont care i dont care

its easy but i hate it

so, i suppose

i want to labor

yearn

i escaped my childhood

lets run far from here

fear

love

love

love.

im happier now.

then i ever was.

love

love
love

Caution! Witch Crossing

Fall

firstfrostfirstfogfirstfeeeling


fuuuuuucccck

pile in, we'll drive around

heats up

3am?

yes, i'm sure i can hear you.

now, stop tapping on the window

cold.

shit man, it's cold.

let's go home... nice out, but cold.

too.

my body's a war ravaged country, liberate me.

drunk and dumb and dumb and stupid and la e

WATCH ME SUPERMAN DAT BITCH.

ima put my new poem up tonight.

megamachouberduper

well hell, ill send half of Aaron's staff to mexico.

land of really bright lights and sweat

i have much more advantages then you.

i can charm the snakes!

you might be able to turn all the heads

but your failure.

its pretty unbearable. smart?
intelligence, flee from here, flee!

and i don't care how despicable a place its become down there

a pillow, and moonlight, and I'm fine.

quills (volumes reprocussions)

i dont want to take from your mouth

or tape you under covers.

and the way you carry your dress

is like you never been torched.

lolizuiz

One day youll have kids
who will have kids
who
have kids
who have kids who have kids
who will be making pizza alone in the kitchen at 3am
and wonder what the hell
thier grandparent was like.

Machine Gun Transfer

Lets reward you for your romance during the war.

You would of made your queen proud.

The bee-bopping of the jazz musicians on the street
lingered like a cloud over the city
every day
-every breath
-every hour
-every thought.
-every cloud.

It was gone, all of it. The honeymoon still existed, but the passion was pale.

quills vol 1

Not hearing it.

Sick of hearing it.

Sick of it.

You're not lonely. You think you're lonely.

And i'm tired of all of you complaining about being lonely.

You just think it.

Lonely isn't you.

Lonely isnt what you feel.

Miss a chance at your princess?

Knowing you'll just see her the next day, or sometime in the next week?

Not lonely.

Riding along the streets, alone.

st 3 am?

Lonely.

The same streets that pulse all day long.

Empty. Yours.
Thats lonely.

but you dont understand

Here's another boring prose/poem thing that i wrote in my down time... i have alot of down time. is it supposed to make sense? yes! will anyone ever grasp the symbolism or meaning ?

Probably not!

Goodnight to you, and sleep tight Panama.


Ode To You Angelina.

you are a lover.


and i shall deadlock you.

if you come with me to outer space

itll leave your landlocked blues behind

and it doesnt matter if you dont beleive it.

just take the time, to sit and think things through.

you'll know what to do

and i dont care as long as much as you scatter through my brain

space space space space s pace s p ace s p a ce s p a c e s p a c e s xxxxxxx

promise though, that if you ever decide to discard me

atleast give me the honor of seeing you off


would a kiss kill

that much?

TEH BUZZZS

Darling, why'd you do that?

You just cut off the only cute part of your face!


BLEH

I fell down your street yesterday night.

quips

Jessie,

What does death feel like?

Love,

Grace.

Nice.

Justin lived in upstate New York. He rode horses. He could, because he lived in upstate New York.


Ithaca, motherfucker.


Vague

They only seem like thousands because there are so few, but since their are so few, the seem like thousands.

Sheet Metal

Telekinesis, Cross Country.

I want to know what
summer nights feel like
sitting on hills drenched in green
dont the stars look a little bit brighter?

I want to know what wetlands
are in orlando
fast paced nights commitments and ventures
city life being swallowed up by the weekend


Practice

The closet thing to her was a pinniped

I looked at the old man
blue shirt clammy hands

drenched in the smell of burned cigerattes.
they thought hed never see his grandkids

They're 20 now.

Coolidge

I powdered my nose
with all the wirings of telephone poles

My feet caked in dirt
was a retracing of my life

same dirty feet stand in america

stand in the deepest part of the yucatan too.

Sauna

Im at a point where air and earth meet
i can inch closer to the roaring sea
or i have the sky being torn apart above me to look forward to.
i'd rather be more wrong then right.

Renovate

Last night i gutted any doubt that remained
any reasonable man can attest to my plight
when i closed my eyes, all i see was was black.
fell out of my body
i had slipped into nothingness.
shame.

Untitled

Do you want to love me?
I left the money on the counter
Ill be at Jacks.
If you do infact care.

The Sound of Boiling Crack

SS. Maria Fernando

Oh, silk screen goddess.
i love the way your ribs
stick out of your vessell.

we pounce on each other
gnash our teeth
and gnaw at souls
and scare the shit out of purveyors of humanity.

and hes down
hes out
fucked up-
fucked up- in sight
fucked up- in smell
fucked up- in is that fucking stars?
or the lights of this shitty bar
i just got wasted at?

i think the closest thing
ive got closest to sharing myself with lately
are floors.

she touched my face

How come your constellations look like Bulls?


One was created ugly, one beautiful, they gain more experience that way.

And my constellations?

Well you're the one,

whom every night

has a lone horn blowing, off in the distance.

When you walk throughout your house, because you cannot sleep.

And you hear the horn in the distance, interrupting the gentle night that was slowly falling.

It's you. And you wonder whom it is

in charge of disturbing the night.

And you wonder.