Combat/Comeback

I want to write poetry that makes you catch your breath.
I want to take a photograph that you'll never forget.
I want to write a song that changes your life.
I want to tell a story that proves I've always been right.

I want to paint a picture with words and metaphors
And I want to give it to you; I wish I could give you more
I wish I could give you summer
I wish I could wrap it up, in sunlight and sweet green grass
And blue skies--and blue eyes--
But baby... summer never lasts.

Weak Week,

Maybe it's too much to ask when I ask this little from you.

am i jealous of you
for knowing the flavor of his name on your lips?

am i envious of you
for feeling his hand on yours?

am i-perhaps-a tad disturbed
wishing i was on the recieving end

rather than watching from
the sidelines

Maybe I've gone too far by going the extra mile

do i feel left out
when the song she sings isn't a song
i heard first?

do i feel unwanted
when the jokes they tells aren't the jokes
we made together?

do i feel-perhaps-alone.
when i see you walk by, and think
i could be your friend,
if only you would let me.


You Are Not The Flavor Of The Weak.

Our Summer.

Ours was a song of summer
of sun-kissed skin and bodies
intertwined, of dappled light
and shadows on a carpet scattered with crumbs
of our love
And white sheets cast in gold
as the sun sets
In the smoggy city skyline, silhouetting
the shattered dreams and abandoned hopes
that wash up on the shorelines, here.
But under a blue sky flung forever
we lay, on sand
from shores miles away; from
all the places we'll go, it seemed
as if our summer could never end:
The perfect song, set to repeat.

pretty broken metaphors

so those tears we cried were a little too fake
and i'm not sure how much more i can take
now i'm lying on the floor and i'm starting to break
what a pretty broken metaphor you and i make

what am i to do when the ones i love
turn around and tell me that its been fun
but now they got what they want, so they gotta run
and i'm left to wonder what i did wrong.

Sarah

I want to take her picture

Capture her

Make permanent the constant change

Of her eyes

Bluegreygreengold--

Soot ashes, delicate as dust

Frame a world all her own.

There are rose petals

Falling where lips would be

I study, I'm caught

Falling where love would be

In the shadows

Purple blue

Of her cheeksbones and under her jaw

Where her hair feathers

Drips, waves like ebony rain

Rippling against her small shoulder

She is sculpted in silk and wind

So tiny, light

Light a bird, weightless and fragile

I think I'd like to touch her--

For an instant, cup her carefully in my palms

But I'm afraid I'd break her

Crumble at my clumsy touch

Such a shimmery soap bubble deity

Immortal Hand or Eye

Today, I wrote you a poem, and I forgot it soon after.
It wasn't the words of the poem that mattered, nor its meaning
Not the symbolic sound devices
Not the unusual rhythm, nor the clever imagery
It wasn't even the poem itself that mattered
It's that today, I thought of you
And I can't remember the poem, so I wrote another one, just now
And it goes like this:

You cannot be captured
By poetry.

Cigarette Eyes

keep your eyes on the road

dont look back, just

don't, it's best, you know.

the cigarette embers glow on his eyelashes and i wonder

What that spark is lighting up in his eyes

eyes I can't quite see in the evening light.

i'd never lie

Is that a lie?

Maybe, well

We're always the ones, aren't we?

We those girls, yes, Those Girls.

The hair is maybe not quite pretty,

the eyes are dull and too small

or maybe, too large

for the round, pink face

and the shirts we wear to fit in are thrown out after they shrink in the wash

toss me in, maybe i'll shrink too

so we eat these lies and trust these eyes

and her with her soda and him with his smoke,

they're quite a pair, on the interstate, both running

from something neither of them can escape.

Ashes

i've got poetry bleeding in ribbons from my fingertips

raw from nights of typewriter intercourse

and i pour my soul like a mother gulls food

down waiting throats

this sharing is not beautiful, it is dirty, wet, undignified

like the very first time he touched her---

Sonny

A small space
With big lights
Awash in glows
Bigger than mine
I am insignificant
All I have
Is the light of my thought
The light of my mind
The light on my head.
Pale in comparison
To the beams of my betters
That illuminate the cave
Of our existence
And I contribute, but
Am unnoticed
In the glare
In the gleam
Still I shine
In my own time

Profanity Found

She dreams, oh she dreams
Of dancing
The moonlight paints her a brilliant hue as she sways
And spins
And swirls
She is the sky, she is the rain and the wind
And she dances
Always dancing
And she never knows why

She sings, oh she sings
Of memories
Her laughter spills like sunlight as she sings
And cries
And screams
She is the sea, she is the storm and the snow
And she sings
Always singing
And she never knows to who

She runs, oh she runs
Far away
There is no destination but she's going
And she's leaving
And she's gone
She is wild and alone and afraid
And she runs
Always running
And she never knows where

Beautiful

I'd tell you about her
But she's more than her
So I'll tell you about
What I see in her.

I was dancing with a thunderstorm
Wild and terrible and full of rage
Crashing, flashing we danced
And danced the night away

I held close the ocean
Lost myself within her depths
And I couldn't breathe for beauty
But in pain I was content

I kissed the petals of a rose
Let their softness in my soul
I loved her even for the thorns
And let her make me whole

I walked into a world of glass
And saw myself a million times
And when I thought I was lost
I saw her shining eyes

I've told you all about her
And all that she is to me
But this is just the surface
Of her divinity.

A million words are not enough
Not even getting close
She's more than this and so much less
She's only beautiful.

Missing

I can't sleep at night
My music's up so loud
So I can't hear you cry
I avoid looking in your eyes
I don't want you angry
This tension pulled so tight
I used to tell you everything
We used to be a family
I wish I was back in
How it used to be
I miss how it used to be.
Secrets hold our tongues
Afraid to speak out
For fear of something wrong
So hard to carry on
Walking on eggshells
To keep this balance drawn
We used to be the best of friends
Our laughter used to never end
I wish I was back in
How it used to be
I miss how it used to be.

Butterfly Kisses

Brother, Brother
It's okay
Daddy loves you in his own way
Brother, Please
Don't cry again
You'll forgive him someday

Mother, Mother
Tell me please
I don't know why he had to leave
I guess it's best
I'll forgive him someday

Shaking hands and
Bloodshot eyes
I remember that long night
But I remember, too,
Those broken butterfly kisses
That's all I needed from you
And I'll forgive you someday

I hate it when you make them cry
I never understand why
But it's not your fault
You're doing your best
We might forgive you
Someday.

Working Progress

London bridge builders
Said we're out of silver and gold
And my paper dolls are drowning
Inside a city so cold
I said I'd never leave
But baby, that sunset is calling me away
Into colors bolder than I am.

Completion

if i were to die tonight
i would have died loving you
and if i lied tonight
then at least you thought it was true.

my lips chapped with tears
and you breathed in my ear
"through all of this mess, my dear,
i will always love you"

it's a tragedy what you've done to me
you frustrate me, captivate me
entrance me, repulse me, control me
abandon me--
or did i abandon you?

for all that i was yours, you were mine
and now i can't pull you away,
you're like a scar, or a tattoo
your smell, your voice, you are a part of me
and i am a part of you, too

all you need is love, and all i need is time
so you can have what's yours, and take what's mine
just give me this along with your heart
and i promise I'll hold you when you fall apart

i can't guarantee miracles or prophesize
there is nothing here that should be a surprise
I'm not as much as i try to be, nor are you
but you know theres a secret in my eyes

i have no real rhythm but the important things in life
don't need to make sense, or have any rhyme
and i hope you can sift through this jumbled mess
and understand i need you by my side

if i could say simply i would, but as well you know
words often fail me in the conventional sense
so I'll pretend it's poetry and bleed out my soul
without any garnish, or fancy pretense

these lines lay for so long
unfinished like the saddest portrait
or the strains of my swan song
and now you've come and made it right

Poison Little Star

Dying young is much more dignified
than shining
you poison little star
look at who you are now

But you'll throw this all away just
to say that you could
can you look yourself in the eyes
when you're on your hands and knees
from the night before?
Is there a mirror on the floor,
laughing back at you?

You have nightmares of self discovery:
you're running through a maze
and you come face to face with a monster
he's gruesome and wicked
with deceit and lust in his eyes
but he's you, and he's her, and he's us all
and that's why you run
even faster.

Are you insane or in denial?
On the outside, in the inside is fine
But on the inside the outside is a lie

You're only you once
And one is all you can be
Don't let it be the wrong one.
Nobody else can be you
Even when you try and be
Everyone Else.

senseless

at 3am
it stops being poetry, and starts
being something with a little
less
life

like a healing wound
the itch you shouldn't scratch
needle tracks all up your arms
in between the lines of scars
maybe it's time i wrote in rhyme
instead of this senseless
line
after
line.

Fortified.

She was in a wasteland, alone.
Her skin was the color of summer breeze and her hair was the ocean's dream.
And in her eyes burned the fires of forever.
But in the wasteland she grew thin, the dust collected in her pores and she was grey
She became the faceless amidst the stone and sand.

When the weary traveller tripped upon her wrist, he cried
For her lips that he never could reach
And his tears fell like waves, and washed her clean
Through his pain, and his love, she was reborn.

They caught fire and blazed like a beacon, and the wasteland burned
in to a world of glass, in to a world of mirrors.
And the fearless lovers saw for the first time, themselves, reflected

And standing alone amidst the chaos, they were unafraid.

in the beginning

in the beginning
there was noise
and
the noise became
life.


it lived and breathed
it fed on hopes, dreams, fears,
wishes, regrets, thoughts
and it became
music

and in the end
we are all creatures of noise
and
we
shout
to be heard
and we
listen
to live.