A bright bird sings in a soundproof cage,
it looks around and sees its own reflected splendor,
his feathers are peppered red and blue,
a light tinge of black leaks from its chest
and just an oval of white surrounds the eyes.
It knows that every sound it makes its not heard,
yet it only sings to the sound of its own voice,
because its birdsong never quite intermingled with the others.
It flew unchallenged in days that past,
it settled lightly on the overhanging trees,
but it lost its sense of direction,
and fell headlong into the leaf litter.
Captured it was, by its own delusion,
trapped it became, its feathers changed.
Now the bird sings to its own song.
It doesn’t care, its the only voice with which he can get along.
- 3 weeks ago
Your bird can sing
they stand beautifully in defiance.
Prize possessions are only markedly meaningful,
when the prize outweighs the value.
When you hear every sound there is,
there is only one thing not heard,
and that is me.
- 1 month ago
Torture has left me alone. Torture towards yourself, because I crave the affection of another man, or woman. Maybe the deep yearning to grasp onto a thick dick is real. Maybe all you have to do is go for it. Maybe affection is not really a tangible concept, maybe it just is. Maybe, out of the sake of living, we are all bound on one path, and that is death. Maybe I can set myself free, out of the bars of my own physical body, with enough lead, or enough acid. Maybe I am destined to be something great, its just no one knows it yet. Maybe I am a suicidal prick who selfishly revels in the wicked renewal of old thought forms. Maybe my mother loves me so much, that she can’t conceivably tell me with simple words. Maybe my heart yearns for a deeper truth, yet is starved by the concrete angles of the city. Maybe I love myself so much, that I want others to feel the same way, except they project the love outside themselves. Maybe our thoughts roundabout back to the same old thing we thought about yesterday. Maybe we aren’t alone in the universe, but we are alone on earth. Maybe we eat each other’s fear because we fear. Maybe we are all eternal, cosmic beings, soldered from the core of a star, refined by the waters of the oceans, and plasticized by the elements of air. Maybe god is just a word put on paper. Maybe I should read more. Maybe I should do my homework. Maybe I should tell that girl I am thinking about that I want to pound her pussy to a higher state of being. Maybe I want to tell that dude I saw the other day to drop his pants and loose them, so I never have to make an effort to reach for the peach. Maybe I should flood Office Depot, because it’s full of criminals who steal by selling useless shit. Maybe I should tell everyone, that the radiating light from the sun, has the capacity to trigger healing processes in the very core of their cells, lest they stay inside all day. Maybe I shouldn’t hesitate when I think about gay shit. Maybe I should steal all of wal-mart’s merchandise, as they stole all of China’s life. Maybe I should get out of the way of my instincts. Maybe I should ask her to dance. Maybe I should quit my job. Maybe I should build a hut in the Caribbean and say screw it to the world, meditating and doing yoga all day next to the crystal clear beach. Maybe I should tell everyone who owns a gun that they are only adding fuel to the fire, and they might as well walk in circles for all eternity. Maybe I should tell everyone that animal products slowly rot your body from the inside out. Maybe I should make offensive music so people can get the point. Maybe I should stop drinking coffee so I stop shitting all the time. Maybe I should crank the dubstep louder, so people can see that it’s the music of the future. Maybe I should tell all of the hipsters that we all come from one common ancestor, and that you can’t avoid conformity to evolution. Maybe I should walk up to justin beiber and spit on his face. Maybe I should brutally stab a pillow to let out all of my anger. Maybe I should run a mile. Maybe I should tell my old friend Alex that I miss her. Maybe I should tell my friend Chris that he spends too much money on pot and beer. Maybe I should tell connor to keep rapping and stop drinking. Maybe I should tell Rich to stop being an alcoholic at such a young age. Maybe I should tell Colin that he already came out of the closet, why not leave the house? Maybe I should tell myself to stop leaving everything to the progression of events. Maybe I should write things down. Maybe I should love my cat more. Maybe I should take on an actor’s role of who I really want to be in life. Maybe I am nothing, yet my intuition is everything. Maybe I am right about all my actions, it’s just people are too blind to see their inherent meaning. Maybe all I need to do is keep going.
- 1 month ago
Peach Naked Lady
Finding one’s self,
In a high pitched room,
The speakers hang on the wall,
And they move with my ears,
The boombox resonates powerful waves,
They cascade, they tear into my ear and my senses dim,
I dance around the carpet, my being in absolute euphoria,
I hug the air, because no one cared to notice an old cracked out kid,
Who sought comfort in a tab of ecstasy,
Who swallowed only what the eye could see,
The stuff was potent,
Cut with speed,
To give me that good jolt that I’d surely need.
I found myself in absolute bliss,
My skin rippled with the fury of a thousand tickles,
I rubbed my skin thoroughly with my own two hands,
Feeling the love of my own self,
I didn’t feel it for anyone else.
I dived into the bubbles in the middle of the club,
They were filthy with other’s just like me,
But it didn’t matter, they were all on ecstasy,
And we rejoice the night and the music,
And the euphoria of ten million hand massages.
I saw a girl, who was thick, and her expression full of lust,
I stopped and smiled,
And realized that she too was alone,
But my sanity drove me away,
I walked back into the bubbles,
It felt so good,
And then I got my head shaken,
By some random dude,
It felt good,
Then I shook a couple of heads,
And I tried to shake one more and he told me no,
He told me to back off,
And I became depressed, terribly depressed,
I’ve never felt such sadness,
The thousand tickles left out the door,
And I followed them out,
To a comfortable chair,
With a pack of cigarettes,
And a thousand dealers offering me their fix,
I sat out there and stared,
I was so sad that he wouldn’t let me rub his head,
I was so depressed,
I puffed the smoke,
I puffed more,
2, 3, 4 stokes,
My friend travis,
He was my dear friend of childhood,
He found me sitting alone,
Dying of thirst and chocking on smoke,
That bloody bloke saved my night,
We sat down and talked,
I told him how I loved everyone,
And that everything felt so over abundantly good,
How the euphoria just seeped out of my skin,
And my teeth mashed,
Leaving me with a shaky smile,
And fucked up gums,
I was FUCKED UP,
Then I told him how I didn’t want to go inside,
I was sad that he wouldn’t let me give him a head rub,
He tried and tried to pry me off the chair,
And I just didn’t want to move,
He almost gave up,
Then skrillex came on,
And the bass dropped and my sadness dropped with it,
I felt my skin glide through the cool air,
As I dived back into the hellish pit of euphoria,
Inside I was back in the warmth,
With all the tweaked out faces,
And all the lights,
I got plunged back into it,
I watched light shows in awe,
I was mesmerized,
I did rebirths till I almost passed out,
And then I sat there,
Rolling rolling rolling rolling.
- 1 month ago
The Fool, his transformation, The Fool and his daughter
On the spur,
falling through the motions of the air,
dissipating is the lackluster fool,
a lady pale as snow, hair so fair,
down on the path,
he hath no remembrance of night’s past,
the fool in his stupor, stumbles into her.
Cast from his mind is any doubt,
twinkle in her eye,
beautiful locks of rye,
the fool no longer wonders,
his mind clicking into place,
forgetting ideas from over yonder.
Down from Reno,
the wise man goes,
hand in hand with the fair lady,
going anywhere the wind blows,
catching the scintillating waves,
the smell of music, and the taste of sound,
here and there, everywhere,
melted in reality, is their face, their smile, their fire.
The apex of the moment,
is no longer wastefully spent,
the wise man and his fair maiden,
find their hole, I should say den,
one with the kindred,
they lay in bed,
the green refracted through glass,
a white rocket they pass,
contemplating the sound of a tree,
perfectly in harmony they begin to see,
that life isn’t unfair once you catch whiff of the fine air.
The day’s carry on,
meanwhile the chatter rambles on,
the Plant is wailing,
as the maiden is flaying,
her arms left and right,
locked in a vice,
her hand on his, exceptionally tight.
Breathe the middle one said,
the rumble of the womb,
late to arrival, the angel wails,
tears are ever present,
slowly and steady they make their descent.
Down the silken skin they drip,
tracing a line till they see fit,
the Wise man knows well,
and with joyous merriment wipes it dry.
With a soft motion the locks of rye turn,
to the Wise man planted next to the fern,
the fronds dangle overhead with much delight,
with a glimmering smile and no sign of fright,
the young couple share their creation,
with a love so strong, much drawn to affection,
the young angel is cusped to her arm,
and the wise man ensures no harm.
Dedicated to my brother and his beautiful daughter.
- 3 months ago
The streets sing the song of victory.
Papers fly everywhere,
people sing and chant, “it’s all over”,
shamrocks and clover’s line the streets all-over.
The crowd stands proud in defiance, they took a stand,
against the black veil of corruption, they took a chance,
with love in their hearts and flowers in their hands.
They may once again dance and see the light of day,
without obstruction of the fetid smog that once was in the way.
The black veil of exhausted soot,
no longer blackened the tall tree’s root.
"Hey mom, look at all the people!",
the young child said,
no longer were they lonely,
praying to the god forsaken pretty people on the steeple.
Once born in a generation so dead,
dead to the fact that there existed,
undulating subliminal attacks,
pounding subtle images into your mind and senses,
breaking the stalwart path and finding you in an early sentence.
A life sentence of misery and lack of truth,
of searching without instead of within,
flying through life on each emotional whim,
hoping to catch a sensation of pleasure,
each and every time,
each and every fucking time,
they sought pleasure to quickly measure,
they’re self-righteous desires to be pompous,
looking down on what they considered drones,
till they fell sway to their own disease, down to their very bones.
such a heavy word,
love is all you need, they’ve played the lines before,
in the days of generation’s past,
their efforts left an imprint for us to grasp,
as they clasped their hands and sang of peace,
and a rolled up medicine was gently passed,
the gooks in the jungle were mortally gassed.
You see, it’s not so different where we are at,
except its television that alienates us from the past,
if we don’t stop to see that the evil is back,
the subliminal messages will continue to attack.
- 3 months ago
- 3 months ago
love towering above,
above the silken skies,
above all the lies,
peering down over life’s demise,
your masterful gaze is ever so complacent,
taking a dark and long descent,
down the path of regret which you are forging.
Bricks laid sideways and mortar yet to dry,
the very pace of this feeling is not going to die,
may the progression of events seem like molasses,
that I must wait patiently, peering past my glasses,
at your beautiful self, and you know what else?
I can’t help myself,
your ever so alluring,
and I know you find it endearing,
for me to serenade you with poetry,
from the bowels and depths of what’s inside of me,
but darling just listen,
listen for a little bit,
I can’t quit,
I have this feeling that won’t remiss,
and I know now here something is amiss,
like a missing piece of the puzzle,
like a lost gear in clockwork,
its as if everything is hanging in the balance to make this work.
I don’t mind counting my days till oblivion,
but one thing is for sure,
that while I am still breathing,
you are to know of my affection.
- 3 months ago
I find pure joy,
when I hear your words, I dare not toy,
with the thought of an imminent interruption,
into your the softness of your voice, the sweetness of your gaze,
I may loose my mind in space,
but I don’t care,
space, ceasing to be a place,
where everything I see, I fall to, and stay amazed,
I’m not lost in the windows of my soul,
quite the opposite I’m treading willfully,
into the recesses of this dark checkered paradise,
where demons of thought wrangle with my synapses,
and the thoughts they loop, incessant lapses,
of highs and lows,
of the ego’s blows,
I throw myself into the ether, and return,
with a smile, that you may in turn,
hear these beautiful tales of valor,
and not be lost in the world’s squalor,
so we may sit like children in the rain,
and share the fiery needles of life’s pain,
I know you struggle, and I know I smuggle,
the truth amidst the lies,
the beauty that lies in disguise,
its not all dark and gritty in this painful city,
a weeks work and wait, makes it all the worth,
just to see you for one fleeting moment,
so that I may be spent,
with all the words I’ve been holding,
all the thoughts that are unfolding,
because I know that you’ll listen without diluting,
to these words of mine, without intruding,
I see it in your eyes, you genuinely care,
I hope your not scared darling,
because the world is a big place,
but I’ll say it a thousand times and definitely keep it in this mind of mine,
I find comfort in just looking,
at that beautiful face.
- 4 months ago
Here, there, and everywhere
If there was an inkling of laughter,
of tall affection amidst the rapture,
id tell you I’ll watch the moonlight glare,
amidst the towering rafters of the castle of my mind,
and know that my sanity has been left behind,
knowing that that beautiful light has given its share,
to my puny little soul,
I know that it’s goal,
is not to impress me or undress me,
the beautiful moonlight is there to caress thee,
under its starlit haze,
that the rampant thoughts in your head cease to be a maze.
I am amazed by you, I do wish to tell you,
that I’m just dying and trying,
confiding and chiding,
my very own self,
soldered and steeled,
from the earth, the stars, the sun, and the moon,
and knowing that we all share this creation,
I find genuine elation, knowing we are all the same,
you don’t roundabout and step around in a pointless game,
never caught up in someone else’s fame,
I guess that’s one of the many things attractive,
about your porcelain frame,
but let’s not digress to the physical,
for many lovers past have treaded that familiar ground,
I tell you what I see is not tangible,
what I hear is much more ample,
from those sweet lips, great words carry,
and when the days and nights might leave me weary,
I find solace in the simple pleasure of your voice and logic,
I don’t know what it is, but darling your so magnetic.
- 4 months ago