Friday, September 23, 2016

Why Does Everyone Hate or Forget Me

Another day done, another night lost
Another week, another month, another year tossed
Into the pot of my experiences and left to simmer
Not swimming just treading water 
Like a hamster with a salt-lick 

I wish you were awake when I got home
Been scratching on my arms ‘cause the walls are too cold
Been empty for a while but my belly’s getting bigger
I’ve got no energy for moving so I don’t get any thinner

I’ve got no more friends just texts not sent
And the world spins on without me 

The only thing I’m good at is getting older 
With as little effort as possible 
Yet it still feels like I’m running up a hill 
Every second I try to breathe

There is no compensation 
You don’t want truth just confirmation
There is no faith to save me
Just the mockery of a manger baby


Thursday, September 22, 2016

Truly Inspirational

Be who you wanna be
Become a you who's somebody new entirely
Make an imaginary backstory for the life you'll lead
'Cause a fresh identity can come so easily
If you just be who you wanna be

My every conversation will
Be truly inspirational
Just invoke and I'll have spoke something sensational
Insatiable will they be
Over me, who's confrontational
But only as I need to be and so fairly
Honest—Why?
Because I won't need to lie
I'll be mysterious even if I've nothing to hide
Not so serious but never on the sillier side
And quite contrary, but never very
Solemn but not scary
Courageous 'cause nothing scares me
Buoyant never, overjoyed though and clever
All together, but never tied, ties never severed only by goodbyes
An all-weather sort of friend, but never just a sort of friend
The sort of friend who'll help you mend, ascend or descend to your level when
You need a shoulder or a tissue, you all will miss me, though if I miss you
Will be a quaint abstraction, though it ain't fashion, I'll be dashing
Flashy but not flashing cash, enacting smash hits without ever clashing
Bashing boredom, never bashful, implored by hoards to teach a master class
Smart but not a smart-ass, though I can be a smart-ass if the mood asks
I'll tackle tasks like a linebacker and hulk smash some graham crackers
Give whiplash to some swell marshmallows who fell in with your candy ass
I'm a prize like cracker jacks, eating apple jacks out of the box for a snack
And finishing it off with some more dope ass s'more slash fics
Take some pics, 'cause this fire's more camp than hot dogs on a stick

Friday, September 9, 2016

An Actress

Used to make out with an actress
On her college dorm mattress
Under the covers, I’d love her 
Hoped the RAs wouldn’t catch us

Practice rooms, we’d be locked in
On the piano, her stockings 
The lights out, as I went down 
Her voice went up a few octaves

We watched the film Moulin Rouge 
She felt like a warm deluge
Play with her hair everywhere
Her breasts and me feel so huge 

We watched the film Book of Eli 
While her body made me high
Wrapped in knots of her body
She made me cum for the first time

Went on walks to the shoreline
Held her hand and she held mine
Took a chance on a glance 
Like looking into the sunshine

Cupid’s a-bomb had hit us
No one ever could get us
Talk the past, see through masks
The future will not forget us

I was too scared of failures
Expectations, I’d fail hers
When is true love not enough
Like passing ships, we were sailors

And all her friends said they hate me
Was lucky she’d ever date me
Can’t disagree, see what they mean
But never cared how they rate me

Like to learn to love myself
I think her love for me might help
But astounded, I found she’s 
engaged to someone else

She hasn’t talked to me once since
I last asked to be honest
Except for when she told me then
How she wanted my constance

I fell in love with an actress
Beautiful, and fantastic
A smart, big-hearted star
Guess I just distracted











Monday, August 22, 2016

Sal the Clown

He's got a can of the cheap stuff
And a barrel on his mind
If you buy him the good stuff
He'll give you his time
To wasted to walk
But what home's there to walk to
When his family's all dead
And he's no friend to talk to

Saturday, August 6, 2016

Treason (No More War)

No more patriotic pride to justify genocide or tyranny 
No more drones dropping bombs on hospitals and families
No more back room deals with dictators or demagoguery 
No more suppressing rights all in the name of democracy
No more parades accompanied by post-traumatic stress disorder
No more mass murder under orders for a flag or a foreign border
No more pre-emptive strikes or fear-mongering fascists
No more drastic acts trying to reenact some glorious past shit
No more pledge of allegiance to an ideal we then nullify
No more talk of liberty while we use guns to pacify
No more talk of loyalty with cult-like jingoistic fits
No more lines between humanity that cross out hope for countless kids
No more racism as policy
No more weaponized sovereignty
No more illusory conclusions that might makes right irrefutably
No more greatness claimed by warriors, for wars not make one great
No more treasonous than reasoning there’s got to be a better way
No more bullets, no more guns
No more whistle blowers on the run
No more tanks, no more bombs
No more officers at the door for moms
No more talk of reality as violent necessarily
No more accepting any acceptable casualties
No more hate based on fear
No more campaigns left to smear
No more assassins, no more spies
No more national secrets or lies
No more dynasties to fall
No more border checks or walls
No more living by the sword
No more jihads to die for
No more treaties to break
No more reluctant handshakes in photographs to take
No more putting up appearances
No more false leads or fakes
No more terrorism
No more ethnic cleansing or racial schisms 
No more divisions for the sake of the tradition of divisions
No more politics that exists solely for the politicians
No more propaganda to draw sharp lines or blur our vision
No more religion preaching mercy and practicing vengeance
No more dismissing pacifism solely on pretensions
No more turning away from the bed that we’ve made
No more little flags on graves and the goodbyes they wave
No more dismissing diplomacy out of hand like it’s a joke
No more spending money building weapons when the schools are broke
No more free-passes when its the rich committing war crimes
No more genocides while we hide behind some hard times
No more excuses for the abuses of our past that last
No more colonization or empire mindsets, in fact
No more super powers as the bullies of the play ground
No more taking up arms to cause harm 
                          when we should be laying ‘em down

No. More. War.



Saturday, July 23, 2016

I Would Scream if I Had a Voice

I was old once, as a child.

Now, I cycle back toward infancy.

The world I encounter is wondrous yet cruel.

Melodic yet noisy.

Distant yet piercing.

Full of concrete abstractions and withering certainties.

And still never full even when crowded.

I would scream if I had a voice.

I would cry if I had eyes.

I would smile if I had teeth. Or maybe bite.

With my nose I would inhale the thinnest hint of memory.

And floating there, find a breeze to carry me onward.

There are no arms left to hold me.

There are no soft toys to hold.

The pictures have bled from book pages.

The lullaby of midnight streets.

Flashes of humanity strobe past the window.

I tap time on keys painted by fingerprints.

I tip-toe over the bodies of past lives.

Each with its own terrified expression.

Posed like mannequins.

Hours after closing.

Decades of shelves holding selves I delve in too deeply.

There is no coming up for air.

There's only the skinned knee.

Powdered pink lemonade.

Swingset splinters.

House home.

Welcome.

Place mat at the table.

Forks and knives.

And time.

To eat the ages.

Wednesday, July 20, 2016

Genius Generation

When I was a baby, I barely knew anything.

When I was a kid, I wanted to know everything.

When I was a teen, I didn't know enough.

Now I'm an adult and I know too much.

Maybe when I'm old, I'll say I should've known.

And then I will be dead without a thought left in my head. 


Blog Archive

Followers

About Me

My photo
Songwriter, Poet, Heretic