Sunday, July 24, 2016

It Doesn't Rain Where I'm From

I’m just your type, not your blood type, I’m bleeding
Avoiding the fire, it's burning, I’m fleeting
My Icarus sneakers, I’m in such a hurry
Too close to the sun, I was bred not to worry
My posthumous pose, I'm so beat, I’m dead tired
I’m punching the clock, I’m pre-dated, expired
Conspiring slowly, just I, myself, me
I'm surprised I still know me, forgotten marquee


Monday, July 18, 2016

Order My Steps

I’ll hunt a semblance of something traditioned
I'll segment results, and I'll keep them partitioned
I'll thrive in the wilderness, my own society
Quiet, uncivilized, no one to lie to me
Funny thing is, though, that I'd prefer veils
Give me blinders, a heading, and wind in my sails
For survival alone is no purpose at all
Simply standing here, waiting, ain't cause not to fall
I need tasking, an order, beginnings and ends
I need time, I need ticking, the calendar’s trends
I need action worth taking, a cause I should die for
A sentence worth finishing, reason to try more
Some sensitive topics to ponder, solutions
A mind I can train and keep free from intrusions
Okay, that last ask is the start of a wish list
Delusional musings, a dream truth has not kissed
The hours for waking could pucker up daily
And flirt with the thought, sing its praises out gayly
A constant machine in pursuit of causation
Where question marks grow, parasitic invasion
For men are not crowned who fight fights you can't see
When you turn out the lights as the night’s appointee
When the darkness is waiting for absentee glowing
When I'm just a driver, no clue where I'm going
The times when I’m timing the seconds I’m frightened
The looser the hour, the faster I’m tightened
And right now I'm wound, and the soft spaces harden
The minutes shoot past and I can't choose the target
Perhaps that's the choice I would choose if I could
That my minutes were planned, and I'd never a could
That my failure is based purely on execution
A simplified life, crystal clear retribution


Saturday, July 16, 2016

Ivory Whispers

Best friends get bested, the clock always wins
Like a punch to the gut, or a kick to the shin
Perfection? A pipedream, I’m perfectly sure
There are some infections from which there's no cure
Settlements, villages, town that I've made
Where I govern reality, always they fade
Constructs internal, a brain full of clues
All the black and white answers give birth to my blues
It's the certain and finite, the fixed and the broken
A giant that slumbers, but never is woken
The elephants squeezed into rooms full of ghosts
It’s the fact that they’re silent that irks me the most


Friday, July 15, 2016

I Lost Some Items Worth Finding

Knots are untie-able, tattoos don’t leave
I wear more heart than can fit on my sleeve
Nevermind compliments, I fish for penance
Rent out my confident brain, I’ve no tenants
The part that should calm me is high in demand
I sit no chance, won’t you please have a stand?
My momentum just settles, my actions are feigned
I lived with abandon, I’ve since been restrained
Ever so proud once, but those days are dead
I just dance with the devil, I tango instead
I just clash with the titans, a shield and a stick
My defensiveness healthy, my offense is sick
My intensity hot still, just coals with no flame
My propensity (that I should win) is the same
I’ve a pattern it seems, that I only pen pain
I just analyze failures, to turn them to gains


Monday, July 11, 2016

Blood Red

Slice to the right of my sternum and dig
Unlock the cage just beneath
Bury your blade 'til the beating subsides
And then force the sword back in its sheath
Marry the mess in your eyes with your brain
Wed the despair with this fight
Never will you watch another heart fall
Without catching a glimpse of this night
Never will you bleed your very last drop
Because you live off blood from the fray
Simple conclusions, of life and of death
They all live on horrendous display
Take what you need, be it trickle or gush
Slaking your lust by the shard
Rest so assured that my unrest is permanent
Tattooed, and branded, and scarred


Friday, July 8, 2016

No Take Backs

A rose is a rose
You can change its name freely
Facts are the facts
I beg not you’ll believe me
My welcome mat, matted
I’ll take what you hand me
I’ll stand just as tall
Should you not understand me
I know of crash landings
From heavenly heights
And of jealous intentions
Of one-sided fights
Of the paths that aren't traveled
The cars that don’t run
Of impulsive incisions
Of cutting for fun
I remember when youth was enough
I had plenty
When thirty a myth
And I barely knew twenty
When anger was stilting
My real height disguised
My nothing was something
(A something despised)
Yeah, the gun was still smoking
My lungs always burned
I was parked at all times
And my wheels always turned
The surprises were seldom
And always unwanted
Old houses abandoned
My attic quite haunted
The architects knew
Just a first degree blueprint
A sentence worth ending
Exclaiming this new stint
Reclaiming the throne
Is a task for the throneless
I shift my position so much
That I’m homeless


Thursday, July 7, 2016

That Old Song and Dance

Slightly new versions
It’s all the same story
I’m me
Whether life would adore or ignore me
Persuade myself
Sir, for the truth, I implore thee
The shoe doesn't fit
No, I already wore thee


Nothing To See Here (Carry On)

Settle back in your seat, my dear, let the breeze find you
Find comfort in placing discomfort behind you
Find peace in not piecing together some puzzles
Dismissing the nothings and noting the nuzzles
Recording the wreckage does nothing but wreck you
So sorting the seconds serves only to speck you…
To make you so small, and to box what should grow
Where a giant should stand, where defiance should crow
Where the rules should be written, your hand on the pen
The fools are all smitten by much lesser men
So just see through the static like Magic Eye posters
And toast to the tragic (be such a good toaster)
Find smiles so deep beneath old burdened soil
May all the hard spots in your being be boiled
If your magma cools though, they'll all walk upon you
So keep your soul hot to the touch… carry on, you


Wednesday, July 6, 2016

Somewhen Over The Rainbow

Time, and her venom, her bite, and that grip
Malicious intent from her poisonous drip
Suspicious resentment I slither around with
Moments are anchors, just something to drown with
The past has since passed, out to pasture, it seems
But despite this old knowledge, I graze through my dreams
No, the grass isn’t greener, the old grass gets mowed
My desire to stay in old moments has slowed
I’ve a future that over the rainbow awaits
And pot full of maybe, and hope, and of fate


Ready, Set, Grow

My heart sings of destiny, of shadows bathed in light Paths that form before my feet, and waiting out the night Journeys made for chosen...