Thursday, February 26, 2009

Winter Formal (Homecomming pt. 2)

My forehead is pressed against your door
My weight braced by my arms
The shadows even Carvaggio couldn't capture

Then suddenly my world falls

You open the door and I stumble into your arms
Only to look up and see the definition
Of surprised and concern
"I have been here for years!"
"Warm me with stories and company and alcohol!"
One finger you press to my lips
And set me down the couch
The fever shaking away from my bones
Till I close my eyes and sleep for the first time

Wednesday, February 25, 2009


So what if I am at your door?
My hair clotted from the midnight rain
Clothes plastered to skin
Shoes becoming useless
I've walked what feels like years
My keys jingling all the way
My stomach rumbles
But I shrugged that off hours ago
How parting ways hurts like falling down stairs
Wake me from this coma
With the opening of your door
The warmth of the air melting icy hearts

We'll dance like teenagers who don't know any better
The way life needs to be cast aside more often

Thursday, February 19, 2009


Let's get this over with
My chest is bare
Waiting for these bullets to really sink in
But all that I can feel is the sweat on my brow
And I'm actually bundled in a coat
I haven't blinked in what seems a year
One in a million?
How about just one in one
But this one in one
Is missing those other millions
The colors are blurring their demands again
"Put us into words
You depend on it"

What is in my throat?
Feels like a stone.

Monday, February 16, 2009

It all starts with Crayola

Picture perfect on a decaying Polaroid
Forever capture a smile
Longing for a time where things were not so clustered
"But it's all a part of growing up!"
So we can not wish then?
For a paradise in which creation does not have to result in income
Where building what is beautiful
Is created for only such that purpose
Not for profit
Not to continue living in this pre-fabricated room
Not for supply, not demand
But to be as being is
Graphite on paper
Paint on canvas
Words on a screen
Spray on concrete
Notes for the ear
Never pausing because of what is required
For the grade, to be measured to others
Create to create
Or destroy to destroy
Or mingle the two

I will stand here and look you in the eyes
"I will do this"
"Do not ever try to stop me"

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

The Sleeping Epic

An Introduction:
Jack and Jill went up a hill
But there was no clean water
Only filth and rotten sludge
(Plus a hole in the pale doesn't help)

Insert your witty prelude
Be it an epic cacophony
Or a simple reading
Thus is the start of the beginning
With the end being refused for now

(An ode to our future strangers
We will fall in love with you)

Memories pre-crafted in a child mannerism
But what is junior high to elementary
Then just a tyrant of horror
Subjecting us to feelings we cannot control

Adhesive can work wonders
But look at the mess we've made on our clothes
Jack did not break his crown
Only his own heart as he waited for you

Emerge from the scenery
We thought you were merely the background
As fast as that familiar smile came
Vanished as ninety degrees does in a 2-D world

A chorus smothered in deja vu
Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!
Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!
We can't get over our stiff past
Tornadoes and storms and the simple objects
"Why cant you get used to it?"
"Same reason I can't get the dye out of my skin.
Everything will remain, layering forever high."

Serenade us with your interlude
Blow your kisses and flash that grin
Make these songs relevant
And destroy the mental pictures caused by others
Become the alcohol that has claimed so many before
Leave me drunk and begging for more
Make us flock
These birds won't quit!


If headaches were gold
I would be the prospector making a fortune


Descend the stairs in the pitch black night
Repeat your same mistakes
No matter how many time you've been here before
Another step to make you look like a fool

Satellites transfer the desperation
But you'll "have to call me back"
The sirens of the sea took many lives
The ambulances with their own wails attempt to save

The intangible scribbles
Crafted of graphite and the typing of keys
Causes Jill to tumble after
Would there be a conclusion?
Would there be a sequel?
Could a happy ending still exist?
A mangled Jack
A bruised Jill
Though covered in mud, stains, and regret
The raised white flag remains pure

(Our bodies our blank canvasses
what we do will tattoo the ugliest
yet most beautiful creation
no one would even be close to imagining)

Monday, February 2, 2009

Heavy Breathing

Put your shovel away
I would not recommend digging deeper
It's a deep hole filling with fog
A well that wishes but does not grant

One most lower themselves to create
But how come I cannot when I am raised?
A perpetual cycle
A ferris wheel
It's groundhog day
Again and again
But these extra weeks tack onto each other

Turning your brights on in this wispy air
Only makes it harder to see