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Pen to paper.Pen to paper, I write a thought
Single list of what has been taught
Lessons handed down by life
Leaving marks in me like a knife
Through blood, sweat, and tears
I have lost hope to my own fears
Yet on my knees I still build
Building what is left unfulfilled
Close to finish, but never done
I slave under the moon and sun
The cold is my sign that I live
Cold driven by fear, I survive
I keep moving, trying to move past
But I as start the unknown comes fast
Suffocating me till I yield to it
Taking from me, leaving my wrists slit
Blood pours forth as my ink
With each written word, makes link
A link tying me to this paper
As I write my last word, I am gone in a vapor
False DreamsAs we meet within the false sense of dreams
I hold past knowledge, about to bust at the seams
Emotions not felt for years come like new
I can say that you are truly rare and few
I stand cold and numb to this
I know the feeling of hatred and bliss
But I feel only nothing but remorse
Is this hell or heaven, a repeat or recourse
I fall to my knees as blood covers my hands
Heavy soul and body, as if covered in iron bands
As I stare at you, I stand up
You come to me silently and hand me a cup
Filled with blood and tears
From only what of love's taught fears
I drink hoping this will destroy the past
Everything grows dark suddenly and fast
Only to see your angelic face drift away
Encased by the night, left by the immortal day
I fall into the darkness of my own self hell
Nothing fills my core, as I hear only a single bell
I beg to know what is a dream and what is real
I want no more lies, just what is true, i want to feel
For so long I have numb myself to protect
Only to hold off the pain unti
As we dance in black upon starsAs we dance in black upon stars
Music and lights, ease the scars
staring not into the nothingness
but into your eyes full of happiness
above the earthly heaven
we beyond our ether seven
as space and time swirls around
we behold nothing but loves sound
hearts beat as one
to be bathed light of moon and sun
life stands still as we drift to the unknown
the last of light fading leaves your face
leaving only the darkness in its place
Yet like a flame your blue eyes shine
like emeralds, I know your mine
we drift, whispering love, to me you call
as like a shooting star together we free fall
The Green tree....The Green tree...
As a young woman sat beside a green tree
She said goodbye to a young man off to war
To meet near the tree, they swore
She always said my love will come back to me
She sat there unwavering for many of years
She would sing of her love to fight the fears
The locals were cruel and mocked her song
But she still she sang for him who her heart belong
As the years went on the woman sat there
From gold to a silver color changed her hair
She never wept nor gave up, as she sat under the tree
The locals told stories of how once was her beauty
The tree grew old and died, the woman still sat and wait
Still waiting for her most beloved, one and only mate
After years of waiting a song bird came with note
It told of her love and how he went down with the boat
She smiled as she closed her eyes as her life came to an end
She stood up and went to where the tree once stood for years then
Her chest grew and burst forth with limbs, branches, and a trunk of a green tree
Her time of waiting h
As we float in the love of ourAs we float in the love of ours
Time is lost in the hours
So close in our lovers hold
But to others, this is too bold
Close minds keep us in dark
Dirty looks as we sit in the park
Muttering hateful speech as we kiss
Making it anger instead of bliss
So let us sail to the moon
And return not too soon
Not until the world can love as one
Until then we will watch the moon and sun
Rise and fall over and over
So let us wish on this four leaf clover
And hope it grants our needed wish
To the black space with a silent swish.
VD poemTaunted by the past, I now live in fear
I am left dried and to weep not a tear
I hang my head ever so low
I carried on for one I didn't know
I stumbled like a drunk across her
At first with the pain I couldn't be sure
But slowly in secret I gained the strength
As my knowledge her grew in length
The past still I bear and carry with me
But with her I know I am free as I can be
With each passing trail of my soul
She was the glue to keep me whole
So calmed the storm within my head
She gave life to what I thought was dead
My heart beats with the sound of her voice
When i see her. I can do nothing be rejoice
I gained the courage to confront the past
As for the war isn't over, I still hold fast
With her at my side I shall never waver
For I can never repay the favor
The favor she did in saving my life
I can do only so much, so I made her my wife
Until death do us part and beyond
She shall be my love ever so fond
"Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply giv
Change this lifeHiding in the shadows
Resisting in secrecy
Trying to find a way
To change this life of misery
The future is unknown
The past is to forget
The present is dull and boring
Is this what life has to offer?
I want to change
And I keep trying
Only to fail miserabily
Every single time
eight ways you've made me small1. I wish
this was for you.
2. my journal pages - the
brown one with all our monologues -
were jarred with hollow vows of
last poems of
letting you slip into a coma
of bad memories, watching you
fall to your death off
a cascading cliff of disease
and dis ease.
it was never
easy for me
3. there's a reason I ask
whether you're grey
(dark white, elusively black, in between)
or blue (behind the clouds, under wave-foam,
whateverthefuck runs through the back of my
palms); I'd rather have
than the arms
that once held you half-
heartedly. you had always been
my harmony and I
would have killed
to have been yours.
4. it could never have been just me, the way
it could never have been just
5. disasters are not beautiful,
but how is it that you
managed to make my inner linings
converge into bows
and explode into wings the very
night you decided to rebuild your walls
to a lower height?
6. I wish
diaryi thinned recall,
strangled memory until she screamed black
or blue, strung her source of voice along
the willowed incline of vein to wrist and down
let the curl thirstily imply
just how cut it is to pain in numbers:
one scar for extravagant wine dates, three
for the number of times we fucked crying,
eight for forgotten promises of ever after
i heard a sordid song in your tallied matchstick
bones, victorian in beauty & proper repression
of the bloody details like a bruise we push beneath
our hollow skin with dirty fingernails
see, the past is not a headless infant with knives for
playful fingers, though it is not to say
that cribs or birdcages hold anything more than
what we leave them to engulf
i swallowed you whole, ocean— basked by the enchantments
of soft-spoken life, bathed by neurotic erosion.
they taught me that the cleansing of your body now
fades the transient you of yesteryear, speak in familiar tongue:
bathroom stall mirages of rounds, clocks, convey
Whenever I hurt myselfI have a feeling
Someone is watching
So I look around
But there's no one to be found
ExpirationWith you I always feel like I’m
to break in the wrong size of shoes.
Sometimes I sit and stew
over how you’re seventeen and
you think I’m a princess
the trapped-in-a-tower kind
and how you wear suits and talk about politics
and think you know the world.
My throat interrupts with an affronted gurgling sound
sometimes when I think about you,
you deal out advice where it just isn’t called for
you quote science-fiction to justify war
and you’re seventeen years old and you think I’m a princess
and you just have no blooming idea.
Darling, one of these days I will tell you my mind
But until then we’ll never fit
I’m afraid –
that even after that day
you’ll still be trimmed hedges and
Makers Of The Cage. Holders Of The Key.Our eyes are the closest thing we have to freedom.
We see endless blue sky, and the stars beyond.
We see the beauty of the world.
We see our reflection in the mirror;
the reality, and the fantasy.
Our eyes see far and great.
But the rest of us cannot follow.
Our hands probe the steel bars around us.
Fumbling in the dark.
Cut by the sharp edges.
The bleeding never stops.
Our feet shuffle around.
Trying to go places.
But we walk in circles.
Our emotions go from red to blue;
orange to green;
yellow to purple,
mixing in a haze.
Our mind goes to dark places,
and only wanders deeper.
Oblivious to the place right next door.
It knows the freedom,
it knows the pit.
There are endless paths to take.
There's a cage we need to break.
There is a key ourselves create.
In our hands, it's never too late.
on bradbury and table dancingYou are not a wordsmith
whatever you might like to think. ('Smith'
indicates precision and coldness and fire:
words are softer than that unless you mold them strong.)
It's a difficult road to follow, and not many
make it past the fork. Choose a path,
Janus says, whirligig keys spinning on his shoulders:
I am a wordworker, with my tools too crude, forming
rough-edged carvings painted with pretty imagery.
Notebooks scattered across the landscape
of a child's room, to be stumbled across,
read, red-penned, in the thick and choking breath of night.
When the bough breaks
a hanged man laughs. He carries typewriters
in his pockets, and cigarettes in the soles of his shoes.
I will never be a word mistress,
whoring myself to the speech of people I do not know and will never know me.
The oven is set to Fahrenheit 452, but the words were already aflame
before they ever took shape under your tongue.
You love everything they've ever written, and carry
unabashed loathing for every syllabl
Death to the LoversHe screamed,
He tore his hair from his scalp;
But it didn't bring her back.
The beautiful girl
With the gorgeous smile
And witty remarks
Would always lay six feet under.
She would lie in her death bed,
Her arms folded on her chest
And her face full of peace
Known only to the dead.
He would be the first to rot.
First his health,
Then his sanity.
She would forever feed on his emotions
Like a pretty little leech,
Sapping his well being
And happiness from her underground world.
And he would let her,
For a fool like him
Who allowed himself to love,
Finally.The stop of a heart beat
All the senses just retreat
The world closes all around
Everything ceases, no sound
Fleeting seconds of reality
To see the morbidity
That last breath is amazing
Just before the eyes start hazing
Hazing over with deaths nothingness
Emotional stability goes to the emptiness
The air slips between the lips in resign
Just before the thought of this end design
on old sanzu - absolutely true fictionlast fall i stole my friend down by the tama river. we sang. we danced. we skipped dead fish like rocks and watched them get swallowed by the undertow. we got sick off of bad chinese food and went skinny-dipping and then a week later she drowned herself.
her uncle was a yakuza, i think, but he really just wanted to be al pacino or something. anyway, she loved him a lot. maybe that’s why she went down the way she went down; cement shoes. not real cement, but it was the same idea. she had two cloth bags with yellow-painted cinderblocks inside, and they were tied to her ankles like the prisoners’ chains from o brother where art thou.
in my mind’s eye i can see her, limping dreadfully close to the edge of the current, her left hand gripping at her breasts through a loose t-shirt. kneeling by the wastelands, elbows in the gravel, crawling forward out into the water. angry like a dermis under wool, all teeth and salt and sand. sleepy, submissive, sublimated.
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