What is beauty forsaken?
Is it a forgotten poem?
A kiss that refuses to linger?
Laughter no longer heard in a desolate place?
Is it the one who climbs the rocky crag
Coming to stand upon the barren cliff
Screaming and whimpering for what's lost
The only thing returning to them is a haunted echo of what was
Mercy and love have been forsaken
I crawl on hands and knees
No longer lucid
Begging for something to soothe my cracked and dry lips
Heat throbs in my temple Sand invades every crevice of my body
I have been stripped of my innocence
and cast into the fiery pit of hell
alone and lost in the darkness I long to be lifted from my knees
To stand in the light
A hand is cast over my scarred misshapen soul
Will judgment be delivered upon what is left of me?
will the judge swing his gavel down on my head and pronounce me guilty
Have I created my own prison?
Am I to blame for what's transpired?
Forgive me if it is so
For I will suffer forever more
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
My writing after too many drugs
Avoid the dark shadows
They are elongated fingers of the grave
They curl around you like grey flavors of smoke
Their purpose is to envelop you in thick greasy smog
It will embrace your lungs and choke you
Robbing them of vital oxygen
Every hit from the pipe will do that to you
Leaving your eyes red rimmed and apathetic
Transforming you into a shadow of yourself
A shell of a person
Nothing matter no more
Except the next high
The sweet bliss of escape rings in your ears
You do anuthing to obtain that feeling
Forsaking and forgoing everything that used to be important
What's important any more when it seems that god hisself has turned his back on you in disgust
Which don't matter no more neither
Drugs have become the object of worship
Just holding it is partaking of god's flesh and blood
It is what communion is to a Catholic
And why shouldn't they be held in reverence?
It seems to be the only friend you got left
Can you blamed fucked up people for doing fucked up things?
The reality of what happened to you is to much to bear
something something something
Until you crack like Humpty dumpty
And all the king's horses and all the king's men won't be able to put me together again
Then I will be committed me to the ground
Something
Oh dandelions and grass plenty, grow over my grave and cover me
for I lie naked in my shame
PS I wrote this poem coming down of drugs. Then I got high again and lost 2/3rds of it. My bad. Sorry. It was good, I swear.
They are elongated fingers of the grave
They curl around you like grey flavors of smoke
Their purpose is to envelop you in thick greasy smog
It will embrace your lungs and choke you
Robbing them of vital oxygen
Every hit from the pipe will do that to you
Leaving your eyes red rimmed and apathetic
Transforming you into a shadow of yourself
A shell of a person
Nothing matter no more
Except the next high
The sweet bliss of escape rings in your ears
You do anuthing to obtain that feeling
Forsaking and forgoing everything that used to be important
What's important any more when it seems that god hisself has turned his back on you in disgust
Which don't matter no more neither
Drugs have become the object of worship
Just holding it is partaking of god's flesh and blood
It is what communion is to a Catholic
And why shouldn't they be held in reverence?
It seems to be the only friend you got left
Can you blamed fucked up people for doing fucked up things?
The reality of what happened to you is to much to bear
something something something
Until you crack like Humpty dumpty
And all the king's horses and all the king's men won't be able to put me together again
Then I will be committed me to the ground
Something
Oh dandelions and grass plenty, grow over my grave and cover me
for I lie naked in my shame
PS I wrote this poem coming down of drugs. Then I got high again and lost 2/3rds of it. My bad. Sorry. It was good, I swear.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
American dream
See the flag waving in the american breeze
What is America?
Are we living the allusion of a dream?
Must we refuse to worship the cold sweet ground of reality
Look! It is the hot pavement upon which we fry our brains in the swelter of an indians summer heat
It is the otter idly swimming by on its back
How the nuts with its teeth crack! See the meat swiftly withdrawn from the shell!
Gaze upon the man, the one who would be president
See him salute the eagle and her star spangled banner
Observe the spittle on his lips as he kneels to kiss her blood spattered breast
Is it real?
Is the man who feverishly toss about in a dream of aborigines and drigerdoos anymore more real than I?
See the shimmering pane of glass upon which the world presents itself
Fragile is its state and it, it will crack, in hair line fractures
Becoming an egg with runny yolk dripping down its side
Pick up the rose colored glasses if you must
I shall not condemn you of that pleasure
But I, I must shatter the illusion and taste the sweet freedom oh how sweet of knowledge and understanding
Forewarning of what is and what was, and what is coming to pass
See the warrior! Will he sheath his sword?
Observer the archer upon his horse
The horse carries the white sheet of innocence upon its forelock
Love is ribbons braided in its mane
See the archer carefully pluck the arrow and string it in the bow
It whizzes through the air and the sound resonates
for it must hit his target dead on
And at last we come to the poet who must complete his work
He is feverish too but with birth pangs of an idea
An idea that madly plays on his brain pinching nerves madly striving to be heard
It must spring forth upon lips and be told
It has a name Truth!
It is every innocent child that ventures out to see the ocean frolick
and every person who stares up at the sky and wonders why
the profess giving her lecture to the errant pupil
Mad with birth pangs of success
It is the newborn calf wobbly on its feet
It is the tiger in the cage who roars for freedom
the puppy who must stick out a tongue and taste its first snow
Oh! it is cold
I am the anxious mother who paces frenzied before the door
I must be! All this and more!
I must stop and play and and give my brain the reins relinquishing all control and power
to give to the world
holding it up like a sacrifice
the fatten bull upon the altar of the gods
striving to be so much more
My sustenance is word, my only food!
The food of a cursed man who must understand in any way he can that which he cannot
The american dream of which we speak
Is me and you and what else?
Of what shall I write?
What melody will the bard pluck from the string of harp?
Great wailing and weeping shall be heard when it goes silent
In every city there is rust and it rots and reveals the fat maggots crawling
It lays its eggs in the rotting meat, in the stench of failure
And doom does tell for the corpse of idea fresh in the grave
Who cries out and will not be dead and silent?
Who?
Who is bold enough to Emerge from the darkened cave bringing the gem?
The one which is called hope
Who will be the savior of its people
Bringing the fulfillment of its ages
I will embark on this journey
All this because I believe in a dream!
What is America?
Are we living the allusion of a dream?
Must we refuse to worship the cold sweet ground of reality
Look! It is the hot pavement upon which we fry our brains in the swelter of an indians summer heat
It is the otter idly swimming by on its back
How the nuts with its teeth crack! See the meat swiftly withdrawn from the shell!
Gaze upon the man, the one who would be president
See him salute the eagle and her star spangled banner
Observe the spittle on his lips as he kneels to kiss her blood spattered breast
Is it real?
Is the man who feverishly toss about in a dream of aborigines and drigerdoos anymore more real than I?
See the shimmering pane of glass upon which the world presents itself
Fragile is its state and it, it will crack, in hair line fractures
Becoming an egg with runny yolk dripping down its side
Pick up the rose colored glasses if you must
I shall not condemn you of that pleasure
But I, I must shatter the illusion and taste the sweet freedom oh how sweet of knowledge and understanding
Forewarning of what is and what was, and what is coming to pass
See the warrior! Will he sheath his sword?
Observer the archer upon his horse
The horse carries the white sheet of innocence upon its forelock
Love is ribbons braided in its mane
See the archer carefully pluck the arrow and string it in the bow
It whizzes through the air and the sound resonates
for it must hit his target dead on
And at last we come to the poet who must complete his work
He is feverish too but with birth pangs of an idea
An idea that madly plays on his brain pinching nerves madly striving to be heard
It must spring forth upon lips and be told
It has a name Truth!
It is every innocent child that ventures out to see the ocean frolick
and every person who stares up at the sky and wonders why
the profess giving her lecture to the errant pupil
Mad with birth pangs of success
It is the newborn calf wobbly on its feet
It is the tiger in the cage who roars for freedom
the puppy who must stick out a tongue and taste its first snow
Oh! it is cold
I am the anxious mother who paces frenzied before the door
I must be! All this and more!
I must stop and play and and give my brain the reins relinquishing all control and power
to give to the world
holding it up like a sacrifice
the fatten bull upon the altar of the gods
striving to be so much more
My sustenance is word, my only food!
The food of a cursed man who must understand in any way he can that which he cannot
The american dream of which we speak
Is me and you and what else?
Of what shall I write?
What melody will the bard pluck from the string of harp?
Great wailing and weeping shall be heard when it goes silent
In every city there is rust and it rots and reveals the fat maggots crawling
It lays its eggs in the rotting meat, in the stench of failure
And doom does tell for the corpse of idea fresh in the grave
Who cries out and will not be dead and silent?
Who?
Who is bold enough to Emerge from the darkened cave bringing the gem?
The one which is called hope
Who will be the savior of its people
Bringing the fulfillment of its ages
I will embark on this journey
All this because I believe in a dream!
Monday, December 10, 2007
10 Christmas Songs I'd Never Sell
1. Twelve days of infection
2. Happy new pain
3. Missed-my-toe
4. Tinkle hell
5. I'm dreaming of a healthy kidney...like the one I used to know
6. (No) coffee nuts roasting over an open fire
7. Rudolph the red colored kidney
8. Frosty-on-the-pot-man
9. Really Silent night, holy night (night you don't hear me piss at 2)
10. Have a holly, jolly piss-man (cause I can't)
2. Happy new pain
3. Missed-my-toe
4. Tinkle hell
5. I'm dreaming of a healthy kidney...like the one I used to know
6. (No) coffee nuts roasting over an open fire
7. Rudolph the red colored kidney
8. Frosty-on-the-pot-man
9. Really Silent night, holy night (night you don't hear me piss at 2)
10. Have a holly, jolly piss-man (cause I can't)
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
Life Choices
Sometimes, you get to thinking
The juices of your mind start flowing
You sit back and assess your situation
Meditating on what is and what isn’t
Pick up the pen and right the list
Determine what can and cannot be changed
What can and cannot be predicted in life
You’ll find that you can change YOU
Your reactions and behaviors
Your outlook on life and your future
You always have the power to change
Your mind, your friends, your hangouts
People may try to bring you down
Telling you your nothing, nobody
They’re full of discouraging negativity
You can let them win or let go of them
The choice is always up to you
You come to point where you realize
You miss 100% of the shots you never take
When you understand life is one big choice
And the first step toward change, is your mindset
Only then can you gain serenity and motivation
The juices of your mind start flowing
You sit back and assess your situation
Meditating on what is and what isn’t
Pick up the pen and right the list
Determine what can and cannot be changed
What can and cannot be predicted in life
You’ll find that you can change YOU
Your reactions and behaviors
Your outlook on life and your future
You always have the power to change
Your mind, your friends, your hangouts
People may try to bring you down
Telling you your nothing, nobody
They’re full of discouraging negativity
You can let them win or let go of them
The choice is always up to you
You come to point where you realize
You miss 100% of the shots you never take
When you understand life is one big choice
And the first step toward change, is your mindset
Only then can you gain serenity and motivation
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Building Blocks
Breathing and waiting
Waiting for what is soon to be
The impending decision of what will come
Like a hand flipping a switch
Soon could life be flooded in light
Or you could let the heavy-handed giant come
With a sweep of its paw, it could undermine one’s life work
Life was like building blocks standing precariously high
That a child had carefully constructed
You never know if they will stay piled up so tall
If the base didn’t have many strong blocks holding it up
Then there might be trouble if a breeze came to sway it
In life if, you don’t build up a strong circle of supportive people
Underneath helping hold you up helping you help yourself
Then when adversity comes you might not have the strength to overcome
So you crumple and have to once more begin again
You learn from mistakes if are wise and take care not to repeat them
The building blocks called HOPE, LOVE, and TRUST are so fundamental
You cannot flourish if they are not close to give you insight
At the end of you work, don’t look back with regret
Wishing on a star for things to have been different
To do things one hasn't done out of fear
The want to have stopped and smelled roses you scurried past
All for the want of time
If you giggled and allowed the ocean's surf to tickle your toes
If you had bravely picked dandelions and blown them away with one breath
If you had spent more time pursuing lost forgotten dreams
If you only had allowed courage into your heart
Without fear of things changing
If you just changed with life instead of resisting
You have only one, uno chances
Why not take a few risks
If you shoot higher and higher
Reaching steadfast towards goals
You would find out an important thing
You have everything to gain and nothing to lose
Waiting for what is soon to be
The impending decision of what will come
Like a hand flipping a switch
Soon could life be flooded in light
Or you could let the heavy-handed giant come
With a sweep of its paw, it could undermine one’s life work
Life was like building blocks standing precariously high
That a child had carefully constructed
You never know if they will stay piled up so tall
If the base didn’t have many strong blocks holding it up
Then there might be trouble if a breeze came to sway it
In life if, you don’t build up a strong circle of supportive people
Underneath helping hold you up helping you help yourself
Then when adversity comes you might not have the strength to overcome
So you crumple and have to once more begin again
You learn from mistakes if are wise and take care not to repeat them
The building blocks called HOPE, LOVE, and TRUST are so fundamental
You cannot flourish if they are not close to give you insight
At the end of you work, don’t look back with regret
Wishing on a star for things to have been different
To do things one hasn't done out of fear
The want to have stopped and smelled roses you scurried past
All for the want of time
If you giggled and allowed the ocean's surf to tickle your toes
If you had bravely picked dandelions and blown them away with one breath
If you had spent more time pursuing lost forgotten dreams
If you only had allowed courage into your heart
Without fear of things changing
If you just changed with life instead of resisting
You have only one, uno chances
Why not take a few risks
If you shoot higher and higher
Reaching steadfast towards goals
You would find out an important thing
You have everything to gain and nothing to lose
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Education and me
I can easily sum up what I learned in 12 years of school. It’s called Jack and shit, and Jack’s left town. I endure years of being stuffed in lockers; a used tampon or two chucked at me, got the crapped kicked out of me, and affectionately was called the retard. All those years of emotional trauma and physical abuse have left me scarred for life. I am a high school graduate, yet I can’t even add to save my life. Hell, I can’t even tie my friggin’ shoes, for god’s sake. So, believe you me, when someone lectures me about the importance of higher education I stare at them like they’re from another planet. A planet, where perhaps, school was fun and useful? So here I am, 19 years old, having spent five days a week, 12 years of my life, sitting at a desk picking my nose. It’s my life! Not the board of education’s, for cripes sake! And you want to know what I have to show for my time? A fancy, shitty piece of paper which either is located at my parent’s house or in a black hole somewhere in space.
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