Sunday, December 4, 2011

Through Tainted Glass


Through tainted glass
She looks at a lonely world
through complex eyes
She sees what is not real

Hear those words, have not been said
tear those clothes, have not been worn
fear those roads, have not been walked
but don't She know that She is wrong

There's a thud on the door
just as the doorbell rings
a Man is standing there
sitting down and looking up

The Man speaks in silent words
and says nothing whilst being heard
And as She listen to the weary music
She loses Her mind and loosen Her thoughts

a Boy walks through the kitchen door
slightly limping, crawling on His knees
His hands in His pockets, clutching His wrists
"Mama, I have cut myself!"

All is a dusty mist
All is a clear fog
nothing is an illusion
everything is just not real

You're at the crossroads of time
She says to me
with only one way to go
on the road to the gallows

We are all going to die
He says to me
while living forever
buried six feet high

And a bearded man hang Himself
and loses His way home
He wanders through Her house
looking for everything not there

She hears a crow's meow at dawn
while the rain shine through the sun
and the clock striking midnight
while the trees blows through the wind

The Boy still stands there
laying on the cold gray grass
with bloody hands clutching Himself
"Mama, I have lost myself!"

All is a clear mist
All is a dusty fog
everything is an illusion
nothing is never not real

You've lost yourself this time
She says to me
with nobody looking for me
on the road back home

We are all going to live
He says to me
while killing each other
flying six feet deep

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

No Fault of Your Own


Yeaterday spent on tomorrow
always feeling so low
if you don't know which way to go
follow the winds that blow

or crawl back to whence you came
out here, there's no fame
just a broken down piano
and a slowly singing soprano

What's that you're searching for?
something you never saw?
go far away from here
until you're truly clear

born, through no fault of your own
just thrown into the perfect storm
swim through until you drown
until you're truly down

there's no one you can really tame
without disappointment and shame
so never let your feelings show
and on your way out close the door

this is where we leave you
you do what you have to do
there's no end ever to be seen
what's left is what you have been

Monday, October 17, 2011

You

You are nothing
Meaningless being
You are a ever changing bundle of experience
No such thing as resilience
The manifestation of raw emotions
For all intentions and purposes, an illusion
You are the words you said, or didn't
The things you did, or didn't
You are the thoughts you thought
Not the money you bought

You are a sunbeam at sunrise
A bird singing lullabies
You are the words on the wall
A tree lonely at fall

You are me
Longing to be
I am you
Wanting to do
Upon each other we fold
We are the world
The Earth beneath us
The stars beyond us
We are the universe
You are the universe



Monday, July 25, 2011

Stranger

Everybody seems strange
When you ain't quite at home
Everything seems to change
When you're lost out all alone

Nothing is what it seems
While you are away from home
Nothing is real, just all dreams
While away, lost all alone

When are you coming back home
When are you leaving this world
There's a call for you on the phone
And all it's saying is the same words
  Won't you come back home


Anything is everything if nothing
Where you don't feel like home
Anyplace will be lost to the fringe
Where you're out all alone

When are you going back home
When are you leaving this place
There's a call for you on the phone
And all you see is the same face
  Won't you please go back home

Saturday, July 23, 2011

Misplaced

Misplaced in Time
Lost in this void
He swim across the cosmos
Displeased by the crime
Committed against him
Contemplating all his loss

He don't belong here
Lost in Time
Don't you hear
This is your crime

Displaced in Space
On his own
He float across the Verse
Misled by this place
Confused by all this
Lodged in this intersperse

He don't belong here
In this space
Don't you hear
From your high place

Don't earn a dime
Them he avoid
Crescent, Star and Cross
Or anything of prime
While sitting at the brim
Under the sharp claws

He don't belong here
Oh Thy sublime
Don't you hear
This is your crime

Regarded disgrace
To the bone
And all things' worse
Outside the race
Denied of all the bliss
Because of his curse

He don't belong here
Oh mighty grace
Don't you hear
From your high place

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Them

Listening to the world go by; people die people cry
Red eyed Mad eyed Wide eyed Sheep like
I see their twitching fingers upon sighing lips
concealing, displeasing, disturbing
They drive, they run, they walk
they crawl looking for the ultimate fix
Full of wine, full of whine
They stroll down the streets of vanity
where the undead roam
and the blood of the suicides
and the sweat of the whores
and the spit of the politicians
flow like the breath of the Unholy
War drums beat and beat and beat
beat to the beating hearts
beat to the bleeding hearts;
Bleed to the last drop
I hear the horrible cries across the sleeping city
calling to save them
From drugs and despair and tragic love
From soulless and homeless men
From unminding unthinking war-fighting
killing murdering soul-ripping monsters
I hear their blindfolded fears
Raging wars within their disquieted minds
hear their heinous crimes
laughing and weeping in climactic pleasure
longing for death after life
Screams of ecstasy, overheard above the rips of the skins
Billions of starry eyes upon a tearless cry
I feel their apathy underneath layers of cold metal
underneath oil and stone, and money and funny paper
under concrete and steel, and cement and rubber
under plastic and fabric, and sheets of clothes
Where they hide, under blankets and pillows
Where they lie, upon rose beds and under oath
I feel them raving and ranting and roaring
singing love songs and lullabies
while dancing to electrical appliances
and dancing to oil driven machines
Writing love letters to shadows
crying upon moving pictures
I smell their blindfolded fears
burning fires fueled with cold ice
smell their oil driven hearts and
machines riding the streets and
their dirty laundry upon endless puppet strings
and their ink on meaningless paper and
spray paint on the building walls
I smell their cigarettes and coffees and colognes
smell their blood upon their own hands
I see their closet doors creaking
deeps eyes gazing through
Bricks and stones and pebbles and words
thrown around the room till midnight
see them sleeping through nightmares
and dreaming through reality
I see them shouting behind closed doors and drawn curtains
see them conforming, comforting, condoning, conceding
and see them destroying, disposing, distorting, denying
all that is true


Monday, March 14, 2011

Not So Great

My atrocious poetry
with your monstrous writings
We are quite artsy
Don't care what the world thinks

I am no good at rhyming
You can't properly narrate
But we won't go hiding
or join the big masquerade

You and me we are the same
and we both plagiarize
We don't want the fame
We just wanna live a life

Sunday, February 13, 2011

Go sailing

Lets go steal a boat
just you and me
and go sailing
we've got a world to see

We haven't been to the Caribbean
to Sydney or to Rome
so lets go to lands far away
leave our shells and roam

Lets sail the Norwegian Sea
and row through River Nile
fly a hot air balloon
or just walk a few miles

Have you seen The Forbidden City
Taj Mahal, or the Grand Canyon?
so lets go travel the world
with me, as my companion

We'll put on different clothes
we'll put a smile on our face
and we'll go meet new people
we'll explore a whole new place

Lets go steal a boat