Poems etc.

Youth's Manic Chic

2011-10-28T02:10:00.001-07:00

To see you age; through smiles of stainless steel,
To see your salted skin begin to pale
and the glint in your eyes become vulnerable tears,
I couldn't bear it.

So I look through a tint,
at everything as if,
we were all here for solitary immortal moments
captured in ephemeral photographs,
where no blood can seep through potential cracks
like yours did.

You say these are the good days, the ones they talk about that fade,
where music blasts through our ears so loud
the echoes of silence sit in the background like reapers and wait.
And our day of death hides behind the last meander of fate
not known until the turn has been taken,
a footstep before your final feat.

So you turn up the music inside your head,
of romanticized life; full of lust and life,
and leave all the dying souls behind.
And everything dying, like you, is something to be forgotten.
They’re just inconveniences never to be wondered, or pondered.
And all the gaps you jump over, that you never look at,
have captured and ensnared you, yet I still don’t look back.
And I never think about it, the gaps I’ll eventually collapse beneath,
The gaps where you lie now, underneath youth’s manic chic.

iug

2011-08-25T04:58:00.000-07:00

We're all alone filling the gaps of the silence.

but what's so bad about the silence?

we realize we've accomplished nothing but hopeful encounters

full of potentials and failures that shaped our lives with their reactions

to our pitiful attempts of desperation to create an appealing temptation

that would lure them into our lives so we could stop going to sleep alone

and dreaming alone because our worst fears started to show

that there's no such thing as anything and sand will never again be stone

as we look to our aged families we realize everything disintegrates

as they cling to their unrelenting routine and fading characteristics.

And what do we do when we realize that our whole life's been wasted?

cling to the knowledge that other people have illuminated

and further realize our minds have melted into a pot of a frenzy

where people buy and sell so they can feed their families

families they've created because they felt they had to

because someone might have mentioned that they should do

so we all have no time because we waste it on each other

as we convince them to buy the things we're selling so we can buy the things that they are

and we insist we play an instrument so we pick up a guitar

and pluck strings to make the hollow noises that the others do

and some realize this so they make a different noise

and then they buy your cd and copy the very same thing

so then again you're part of it, feeding into the monster of time consumption

so we've no time to feel alone, because the music talks about the things we do,

like a pat on the back that tells you someone else understands

because no one has any time, we're all too busy,

blocking out the inevitable silence we'll all fall into eventually.

lskdjf

2011-07-03T16:07:00.000-07:00

I don't know if I'm doing right
I don't see how I'm not,
Yet there's so much emptiness beneath
the plotline life revolves.
I feel I've fastened myself to
a crowded conveyor belt line,
where every broken piece moans
about it's contiunal lack of time.
All the pices built the same
progress towards ends pit,
Amd once the end is known, the pieces recede,
into a state of passive panic.

If only they could realize, a piece is only a part.
The bigger picture expands far beyond what is seen or taught.
I've tried to come up with what it is, i'm meant to become a part of,
but all I see is people projecting what's considered normal:
Broken records playing out the repetitive stream of routine,
They all seem to get confused with how things are and how things seem
so seemingly obvious that everything is obviously completely fine,
as long as there is a coffee break,
and an uneventful nine-to-five.

kjjh

2011-06-24T11:52:00.000-07:00

There are those that use their eyes to mirror their souls, and the latter to use it on occasion to seek the soul of the person who hast stirred their curiosity.

and what if i was to keep the use of mine as a medium of constant observation?

That no revelation could be had through the curiosity of others,

as i was always the searcher, and never the pool of thoughts that one could simply dip their hand in and retrieve the hearts murmurs.

I cannot think of one instance where someone has seen inside my heart.

If i were to leave it on my sleeve, vulnerable in the blackness of a pupil,

it would surely grow cold and wither in these mediocre conditions.

How can the average hearts that surround me, steadily beating within sleeves of frail cotton look into a heart buried so deep?

I can only presume that the love I feel should be kept within myself.

I love as if I loved with all my heart, a person in a last life which I never have to grieve.

A love so protected, no knife or daggered eyes could pluck it out.

These eyes have been on constant watch,

as if they were the everlasting ripple in the water of a hidden well,

and my heart, hidden at the bottom, could not be seen under such furious waters.

And if this water were to glass and mirror, and my heart be seen,

I think it should shatter to a million pieces.

asldkfj

2011-05-23T20:38:00.000-07:00

You wear you're clothes a certain way, as if it makes you shine.
You're silence doesn't echo mystery, it just blotts out your pathetic mind.
All the quotes you like to say are stolen from a grave,
and the things you read to make you smart, dumb you every day.

You speak of things you've researched, stuff you're really interested in,
you debate your points in black and white as if you knew what you were actually saying.
You've conjured up an image, conventional to the norm,
as you spew your words out into the ears of the "lesser informed."

You've gotten to a point where you've been idolized yourself,
and you walk among grey analagies of people who live only to aquire your help.
You're a master in persuasion, and justified your pathetic views,
I've never hated anyone, until I met such a douche as you.

Just Breathe

2010-12-01T12:25:00.001-08:00

don't talk, just breathe and lie here with me,
I don't want to hear the things you think I need.
Don't count the hours, Just wait it out for now
I don't need to be anywhere but nowhere right now
lets just keep the silence and dream.
Lie here in a rip of time, where nothings real.
lets drag out nothing for a while,
and pretend were not wasting time by ourselves.

I need to pause this, and put it in a drawer
where none other than us can open it up, but,
you'll hurt me, I feel it, it'll only take a few minutes,
so pause this, and hold it, and put it in a drawer.

and when you think of all the things we're missing out being here,
just close your eyes and breathe in, and it'll all dissapear.
because were only in this moment for a moment, and then the moment will be gone.
so just dream with me for a minute, and then put it in a drawer.

and when you've forgotten all about me,
and the days we just lay in each others gaze,
I'll still have the drawer to look in,
and spend days in it on my own.
as long as I have this feeling, of dragging out nothing,
I can pause it and hold it and put it in this drawer.

But for now,
Don't talk, just breathe, and lie down with me
let the nights and days fade in and out like a beaches waves.
I could stay here every day and night, with your heart beat as a watch,
and when your long gone, I'll have this saved within a drawer.

a song

2010-10-21T14:26:00.000-07:00

I've been tryin' to wrack my mind to find a reason that could find out
why I sit here. why I, wait here, for a sign.
And I've waitin' in this place with this blank look upon my face
waiting to find you, maybe, love you, maybe.

and I'm
so dependent on my
expectations,
I keep lookin' out the window for a face.
but I feel it in my bones, and yes there creaking and aging, yet, I keep clinging and hoping for you.

and I'm
Scared that this trail is like a snails leading to a dying shell,
and the trail of slime I'm tailing has run dry.
and I'm afraid that nothings perfect and this imperfection kills me,
and I won't stop at nothing till I feel that floaty feeling,
and I never seem to feel, so how could this be any different, I don't know.

and I feel it in my bones, but they've been so, so wrong, they've been lying to me all along.

and now the reason once loud slips into a little whisper,
like a soft lullaby of the fears you'd never utter
but i utter over utter over and it gets louder,
the sound of my voice like a nail in a coffin.
and these sounds though soft slit through my senses
and I'm scared this search is useless
i feel it in my bones, I feel it in my bones..

and I feel it in my bones,
and yes there creaking and aging yet I'll keep clinging and hoping for you..
and I'll wait in this place, fading and aging,
waiting to find you, maybe, love you, maybe.
Waiting to find the time to stop this singing,
to find the meaning I've been that I've been searching.

Love

2010-06-22T11:54:00.001-07:00

My love for you is brimming,
and even if it were to fade,
it would fade like the sun burning.

Burning through galleons of gas,
as it keeps on going.
Shedding light on the universe,
as you light up mine.

And even if we were no longer together,
this love will never unequivocally cease.
For it is the lasting fuel for every hear beat.

This love will last until,
The fuel dims my universe to darkness,
like a snail trail leading to a dying shell.
And my heart has stopped beating,
as the love that burned is gone.

Mum

2010-05-16T09:46:00.000-07:00

her past an intricate quilt of cotton and bunting.
Such delicacy woven into every fissure of every care placed,
a cool warmth to clear my mind.
Such passion placed in her quotidian,
always with weary eyes and unvarnished smile.
To evoke such inspiration from hard work.
A smile so genuine it sets the bar for beauty.
inspired by the love of traditional simplicity.
A force of karma to work for the earners of it,
without earning herself the life she is yearning.

I am in the presence of the brightest star,
the one above my head and in my core,
and no matter where I am I know I'm home.

The local farmer

2010-04-17T11:12:00.000-07:00

a hat to keep his hair back, his arms behind his back,
to clear the vision of a lonely life.
He paces through a field,
each step calculated through his retraced steps,
every morning and every evening the same.

The cow cries out as mad cows do,
but the sanity of people keeps it locked up behind his eyes.
The need of cows the only knowledge he'll keep,
until knees grow weak and field stretch too far out.

Then he'll fade into a bed out of life's sight,
Where only the sound of his cows remain.
Where his memory revolves only around routes of green,
and the red truck he used to get there in.

blah

2010-03-29T13:04:00.000-07:00

I used to have an empty outlook on an average life.
Everything was invincible and safe as I was not gone
and would not be until I no longer existed.
I think that added to the boredom, It was never going to stop until I did.
Everything reeked of mediocrity. The people, the 9 - 5 life.
Every day i had the image of life, resembling a flat-line, green and monotonous, powering through everything.
There was no skipping of heartbeats, no shuddering, shaking, shivering or yelping.
No flicker of life like there were no flickers of smiles from my mouth.
Just a faint dull trace of hope, guiding me blindly like an auto-pilot through a clear blue sky.
With nothing to distract me or inhibit me, just flying through the air to the time of a ticking clock.
The sunrises and sunsets were as unimpressive as the Grey mist that clouded my mind.
I felt like i would be flying on this flat line silently until i reached an unequivocal end, and amounted to absolutely nothing.

I am hope.

2010-03-21T15:34:00.001-07:00

I am hope.
The light through a cracked door,
the rainbow in the rain,
and the beauty in a tear drop.

I am hope.
You choose to ignore me,
and see the darkness around me instead.
A twist of fate convulses to a sealed fate,
and you fastforward to inevitability.
You miss all the lines between,
and what reads beneath them,
The beauty in a smile,
you miss it all.

I am hope.
I'm hopeful that you'll catch me at the corner of your eye,
Before all hope's lost.

Breathing

2010-02-21T09:55:00.000-08:00

You tie life's anchor to your leg
and and dive into the black.
Then you take it all in,
and let it all back out again.

you fall apart slowly
and you find it hard to sleep,
you stare at yourself and the secrets you keep.
You look past the mirror and the wall behind it,
Into the things that have nothing to think about.
Like talking shit about nothing in particular,
the way the weather is and the way the days are getting longer.
And nothing gets past the surface, and it stays in front of your eyes.
anything could pass in front of you, but your completely desensitized.
The days when you cried over dead birds are over, and new ones taken over.
Where your laugh only reaches your lips,
and pain is only ever on the surface.
A new day has come, when maturity has grabbed you,
with its grey clammy hand to cushion the reality around you.

Escaping Demons

2010-02-08T14:10:00.000-08:00

As the stars dim
and the clouds soak up the sun

i will build myself a ladder
and up heavens escalator I'll go

when the cool breath reaches my face
high on a clouded wool terrain

I'll let go of this facial frame
and hold the peripheral of the world as my name

and all the power and energy I've withheld
will blow up in the sky like a silent mushroom cloud

like a silvery waterfall of anxiety's demons
snowing down on those stuck to the ground.

Hands

2010-02-04T13:52:00.000-08:00

Hands laced in blue to power passion,
to search a face or spit out poison.
Hands composed of papery leather,
as transience's are all completed and dignity faded.
Jealously pinching at the cheeks of the young,
the shimmering silk of a mortal frame.

Hands cupping water on a mountain ledge,
or the blood of a wound near life's end.
Hands like the tools of the soul,
to throttle, embrace, love and hate.
To gain a reputation with.

I've used these hands to read and write,
and pick up the curved body of a hollow guitar,
to encompass this solitary life.
Plucking at the heartstrings of the inanimate,
with no response, other than the echoed melody repeated back.

My unmarred hands lie pale and soft,
waiting for the warmth of another empty heart.
I'll let these hands lie at their sides.
Out of view from their pitiful sight.
Until i come across a change,
to grab a rope as its thrown.
And squeeze it till my hands get tough,
and red and raw as the heart I now love.
An in this chance i will intertwine,
your hands soft life-lines with all of mine.

i dunno.

2010-01-30T15:19:00.000-08:00

I do not care for the common passers ears,
let my hearts glee not be deterred
for any soul that does not requite it.
Let the glee ring out from these mortal cage of ribs,
for they seem to hold back this feeling in too small a confine.
Let this mortal facade be laughed at
once my passions breath has been held too long,
and with the howls of heaven let it flow,
flurried from the very hollow of its core.
It's the time for the heart to rule the mind.
Where no questions are asked,
and no answers need be given.
In this palpitation of impulsive love,
not to be calmed down to a monotonous pace.
Let us keep our hearts dancing so fast,
we can finally lift off from earths set standards
and continue our celestial love affair alone.
Where no comparisons or hopes can follow.
And every face shall fade into a humming mass
far from the grey and blue.

Youth's Manic Chic

2009-12-16T14:56:00.000-08:00

To see you age, through smiles of stainless steel,
To see your salted skin begin to pale.
and the glint in your eyes become vulnerable tears...
I couldn't bear it.

So i look through a tint.
At everything as if,
everyone were there for solitary immortal moments.
captured in continuous plastic photographs,
Where no blood seeps through potential cracks.

They say these are the good days, the ones they talk about which fade.
Where music blasts through are ears so loud, the echoes of silence sit in the background like reapers and wait.
Like how our day of death hides behind a certain meander of fate.
not known until the step has been taken,
A footstep before your final feat.
When your invincible until your the day your not,
And death is only for a moment, and then the moments gone.

So you turn up the music inside your head,
of romanticized life, and feigned surprises.
And everything dead is something to be forgotten.
and all the gaps you jump over, that you never look below,
are inconveniences never to wonder about, never to ponder.
and you never think on it, the gaps you'll eventually collapse beneath,
The ones that lie below youths manic chic.

Cowardice

2009-12-16T13:59:00.000-08:00

With no reason other than cowardice,
will I hide away from grape-vines,
and minds of those I bitterly care to understand.
I will hide from the transience of the fast slipping sand.

No perpetual wisdom will lead me to reclusion,
No Tibetan ritual of self-actualization.

With no other reason than fear,
will I hide away from crossroads.
And all those winding paths that lead to high roads and low roads,
I'll hide where no roads can lead to.
Under a cover of blissful ignorance.
Of beautiful insignificance and lack of experience.
Under a veil of twinkling stars,
no incoming fire balls, or martians from mars.
The only thing left to fear being fear itself.

A song

2009-12-14T12:22:00.000-08:00

I walked inside and I saw you, With all your budget beers,
And my face must have blended in with all your troubled tears.
And I can't forgive you, just because you apologized,
and your face crumpled up so much i couldn't recognize,
That face that sought and meant to hate,
That sealed my fate so readily
and destroyed these dreams so terribly,
And you sit there and stare at walls,
And time melts slowly by,
Oh I couldn't feel any worse, no I couldnt feel any worse,
And Time melts slowly by
Oh I'm sorry, so sorry, I couldn't find the words
And I'm sorry, the common blood couldn't wash away this hurt.
And your time melts slowly by.

Water

2009-12-07T14:19:00.000-08:00

level up, breathe past the surface,
stick your chin up and rise above it.
Let the water rise so close,
So you can open your mouth wide enough to taste it,
and the water rings through your ears,
emitting the echoes of your hollow heartbeat.

Sink into a watery realm,
where finger tips lengthen and skin softens.
Where hair fans out like flames in a breeze.
Where breath takes a time out and the mind winds down.
And everything slows down and is taken at ease.

A Poem By Charles Bukowski

2009-11-28T10:38:00.001-08:00

So You Want To Be A Writer

if it doesn't come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don't do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don't do it.
if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don't do it.
if you're doing it for money or
fame,
don't do it.
if you're doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don't do it.
if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don't do it.
if it's hard work just thinking about doing it,
don't do it.
if you're trying to write like somebody
else,
forget about it.
if you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.

if you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you're not ready.

don't be like so many writers,
don't be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don't be dull and boring and
pretentious, don't be consumed with self-
love.
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
don't add to that.
don't do it.
unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don't do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don't do it.

when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.

there is no other way.

and there never was.

blah

2009-11-23T15:43:00.000-08:00

In my favorite dress of skin and cloth, I'll go out from warmth to wind.
I'll walk down the road to meet your eyes, on a dark, candle lit street.
I'll leave the air between our breath, to see what you can dish.
What movement and words the wind can bring,
and the effect, like a blow of fire and lead.

I'll unfurl myself outwards, to soak in the words.
let the pain seep into my every pore.
Breathe it in as if pain were part of the heavy air,
Breathe it in like my greatest friend.
I've kept you at bay for far too long,
I'll open my arms to you, my crouching tiger.
The only one always there when everyone else has left.

following my head

2009-11-10T14:55:00.001-08:00

A heart lies here in a darkened room,
clenching and letting go.
Like a fist in the night with a lot on it's mind,
It can't seem to just be still.
And a body encases the anger inside,
to feel it's every cry.
And I, the soul who holds it close,
will keep it company every night.
And I'll lie awake hearing its plea for me,
to just let go of sadness.
And it pleas please get up and follow me
and I'll bring you away from madness.
But then my mind reminds me that my heart is blind,
And would lead me through the thick and thin.
And even then I'll never catch up,
with the call my heart thinks is clenching it.

Conversation between Strangers

2009-11-07T16:21:00.000-08:00

Man - you OK there?
Girl- Yeah.
Man- You don't look it. I saw you heading toward the water there, for a second I was thinking "oh shit", I thought I'd have to go swimming, and I'm not a strong swimmer so we'd both have drowned!
Man- Don't be a fool, last year I was a fool. Your not a fool are you?
Girl - No, I'm not a fool.
Man - Whats your name? I'm just heading home now.
They call me Frank, Frank the Tank, but that's a different story.
Girl - ......
Frank - let me tell you, Last year, I was at rock bottom. But my father used to always tell me that life was like a wheel, you can be at rock bottom one year, and the next you'd be at the top of it, and be the most popular in everything you do. Things always get better, don't let boys get you down anyway, there's plenty more of them.
Girl - It's not that.
Frank - Well whatever it is, take care of yourself, and get home safe.

Eternally Underwhelmed

2009-10-15T13:28:00.001-07:00

Its rarely i pierce through the grey tinted glass of my own world that veils me, as it veils us all, and take a breathe of raw reality.
I find the slight suffocation of personal reclusion, in our own bubbles to be warm and distracting.
the lack of oxygen like a lack of bitter perspective, eclipsing that feeling of a bottomless pit in the core of your being, and a cosy distraction from the cold vastness we perside in.

It's that grey tint that blocks out the sun and fire.
You're neither filled with happiness, nor are you burnt by scorching flames.
Eternally underwhelmed.
To catch a glimpse of reality itself you must carefully focus on your breathe.
Realise where you are presently as you feel the now slip into the past, recurring over and over and over, second by second, you revert back,
and for a fraction of a moment, you see everything in that chilling light
and your overwhelmed by how unexciting infinite space and disbeliveing of what it has landed you with.

and so you retreat back to your warm bulbble
where you are the centre of your own little grey universe.

Solitude

2009-09-07T13:29:00.000-07:00

Away from all the eys,
Paranoia gulps in a shaky breathe.
The clockwork in my mind winds down,
from a speedy whine to a jewelery box's soft twinkle.

Appearance and inhibitions disappear,
as I sink into the comfort of satisfied silence,
my kindest and most needed friend.
Silence, In where I'll never have to watch my back.
Never have to debate my time, or prove my character.
In the silence I can survive.
not oppressed to just a part of a big picture.
In the silence, I am alive.

I've found happiness.

2009-09-05T15:42:00.000-07:00

http://www.toilette-humor.com/cartoons/pillsbury_doughboy.shtml

make sure you turn up the sound.

Untitled

2009-09-04T14:10:00.000-07:00

You are my outlet of happiness,
my unashamed feeling of euphoria.
And time still wastes, yet, it's with you.
You. My guilty, shallow pleasure.

You are the filter of all my worries,
My constant visual reason.
And in y our presence, i frivolously link,
my fragile soul with yours.

And I would be completed,
If only, this were true,
and i was not sat here writing this,
Imaginary truth.

Looking In The Mirror

2009-08-21T17:32:00.001-07:00

As the storm brews up inside her eyes, welling over every thought,

her expressions blank , while eyes stare back,
silently distraught.

As I look inside the frame, at what all the rest can see.
It petrifies my every thought. My vulnerability.
My skin unmarred, yet underneath,
all the pain inside.
So evident to me, yet so easily it hides.

They could have stuck the knife edge in,
and left evidence of my seclusion.
So people can see without looking,
my imperishable affliction.

...

2009-07-18T16:40:00.000-07:00

i'll wait here for good news to come by.
I'll wait... and wait...
I'll hold a vigil by the window, with the newsforecast refreshing,
Just waiting to see a glint of my hopes fabricating.
Everything that everyone has no pause for.
Everything that people just expect is there,
like the light that creeps in through a keyhole of a dark room,
I'll pause my life till i find it,
So I can finally care.

I'll pause my life till i can find,
something worth spending all my time.
Just watch me, I'll wait.
You'll never see me again.
Because from what i can see, there's no point in holding dreams,
for building a family and a family tree
Because all of them will learn to hate,
and fear, fear...
and Love, love...
just for the sake of feeling life go by,
like running along a river that will never stop and never dry.
And I know they say "it's just a ride"
and that people live, and people die.
People laugh and people cry.
Flower's bloom and buildings burn.
And were all just waiting for our chance, our turn.
We all get those 15 seconds of fame, where we'll feel that it's all worth it, all this pain.
And we'll all give ourselves tasks, to feel important.
But whats the point?

Oh Mystery

2009-06-15T14:30:00.000-07:00

I run through the busy street, to follow your scent.
The one that fills me with a soft buzzing that weighs down my head.
Your oblivious nature leaves me in your peripheral, where I always stay.
Please wake up and realize, don't leave me this way.

But then I think about it and I think of all the times,
they turned around and left me searching for more signs.
and there was none even though their soul was left for me to search,
and i found nothing there for me to want to keep in touch.

Oh mystery, i almost want to keep,
you secretive so you can't disappoint me.
as everyone does, when i reach them through the crowd.
So mystery, please don't leave,
just don't turn around.

Reality creaps up on us

2009-06-08T09:58:00.000-07:00


	open doors, to lolipop floors. spiked with sugar cane glass. through liquorish light. the darkest night, rips to reveal the rotting mass. i cannot see as i'm asleep, away in candyfloss land. bur reality keeps seeping into my cloud, keeps seeping up through the sand. it pops up into my fairytale beach, and my sea turns crimson read. and the waves crash down while im fast asleep till reality has drowned me dead. I'm not too sure what inspired me to write this poem, I can only interpret it as my own perception of false happiness, and the things we try to cover through are goals in life, like money or love, like the type of dreams and aspirations we use as a blanket to cover all our dirty secrets, and bitterness. I feel like if we keep building on top of a rotting foundation of unconsciousness, and do not sort out those problems, like the type of infliction others have caused, or the infliction we have put upon others, then everything, the most intricate of problems we haven't resolved will come back to haunt us.

Time Warp

2009-05-13T13:33:00.000-07:00

Do you ever feel like your stuck in a time warp?

like, you ride it out, when everything seems to be happening for everything else, and your just waiting, but nothing ever changes? Like you can predict each little meander of fate, and your not surprised by the absolute emptyness that follows day after day..

Like, you just notice that it's all one big routine you follow throughout the day, striving to complete all the tasks, just to keep up with the next day that follows, the exact same way.

For me It's, get up, breakfast, school, home, eat, play guitar and go to sleep as early as possible.. i've just gotten so bored, the highlight of my life is sleep.
And I have no idea how to get out of it.

blah

2009-05-03T10:24:00.000-07:00

I was numbed and couldn’t see, you crying beside me,
You fell and it seemed I didn’t care, your soul lost its meaning.
He crept inside your fragile mind, I found you when it was too late.
Your heart on the floor, and your eyes looking screamingly.
Your eyes glint with fear as you walk down the hall
The echos of madness that once was is gone.
Yet, the madness gushes in..

And your numb… I couldn’t see. It happened suddenly.
Your alone, As I stand beside you.
Madness took its toll.

all of a sudden

2009-03-30T12:11:00.000-07:00

My tears run dry, My laugh turns mute.
I do not hate, i do not love.
I only sit. and sieve.

As days go by, i see the change,
though every day has gone the same.
faces don't protrude and skip my heartbeat,
Kind words sound through my hollow heart and fade.
Bad words sound through my hollow heart and fade.
I no longer jump at the sound of my name.
as if predicting each meander of fate.
All of a sudden, All of a sudden,
suddenly slips by to predictability.
And I'm numb.

A figure of Time

2009-03-18T13:58:00.000-07:00

As if a malfunction occurred and thoughts that should have been sorted,
enter into a sea of trailing threads which my mind has absently aborted.

You forget past days as they slip by like sewing slipping thread,
each stitch you sew imprints the present,
while the rest unravel and fade.
You try to rememver week old faces,
but they all fade into the grey.
Memories never meant to blur,
shift like shedding tears and fade.

you fall

2009-03-04T12:09:00.000-08:00

You fall, so someone will catch you,
hoping for predictable rope to be tugged.
And the dreams to flow down to meet you,
comfort, love and treat you.
And so you keep falling to try break the loop,
But the loop keeps following you.
And you keep sinking with no success,
your smile of freedom fails and switches to pain.
As you keep falling, the gasps run dry.
As you keep falling, Through opague rain,
you crain your bones to look through the water.
Oblivious faces with no eyes or names.
Your legs tangled up in the rope, you start to fade.
lifes loop, loops you down,
heavy as an anchor, you start to drown.

i know that its a wonderful world, but i cant see it right now.

2009-02-24T14:04:00.000-08:00

"I know that it's a wonderful world

But I can't feel it right now

Well I thought that I was doing well

But i just want to cry now"

It's in the lyrics you sing along to. It's apart of the final print in the contracts you sign your life to. When the happiness of watching birds sing and children laugh comes to an end.

The warm feeling of soppy movies and cheese filled sitcoms fades.

and your empty.

a tap dripping, a door creaking.

The sounds that catch us unaware and spark of the lonliness.

When the thoughts at the back of your mind are no longer loud enough to cover the buzz.

The silence of no one else talking.

When the bird song just fills the gaps of the oncoming sadness

just a backround sound for the penny drop.

life resumes the second after

2009-02-21T13:03:00.000-08:00

Its all a dream until the second after.
Its all in my head until its finished.
The imaginary screams that end the laughter.
I resume life the moment after.
A second after life, and then its over.
A life tangled up in clumsy dreams,
between the fake,between the real.

that's a poem i made up, because most of the time I'm just getting on with things. waiting for the next unknown.. but the next unknown is usually always known and predictable and usually the same thing i did the day before, except for the exception of the phrases id use.
Sometimes i just start feeling like im heading towards insanity. not being able to prevent the boredom and repetitiveness of my own future.. i know I'm a morbid bastard, and nobody likes a morbidly obese bastard (family guy) but i can't help it!
its just the way my mind frame works.
one depressing thought after the next! I know that obviously I'm not going to progress in life with such a negative attitude but who is with any attitude?

were like clocks

2009-02-21T12:57:00.001-08:00


	Tick Tock, Tick Tock. i wont be another clock. leading up to the chime we stop. i wont be another chime, another scream from this clock of mine. a chime of 6 billion clocks, fading and renewing at the same time, crying out to be rewound. were all chiming till we eventually stop. the wood we rely on decomposes as we tick, it decomposes quicker if our clocks turn sick. so whats the point in following time, leading up, chime by chime. why do we chime and tick and tock, when in the end we chime to stop? but im just another clock, Tick Tock, Tick Tock.

The Sky Will Boil

2009-02-19T14:02:00.001-08:00

The Sky Will boil
Slide into the streams.
Thunder and rupture.
white searing screams.
The mountains will whip out the sound of my name
from furious fires they spit out in flame.
But I've sunken into the ground.
where no sounds follow.
away from all the pain of conditional happiness.

My view on depression

2009-02-19T13:22:00.001-08:00

They say that depression is a chemical imbalance of the brain. but what if it was actually a chemical balance?
That the normal amount of endorphins in the brain is high enough to stop you from seeing the negative and actual aspects of what makes the world the mostly negative place it is today. When you have depression it feels as if its you who can see the truth behind the loop,
Kind of like in the matrix movie when everybody is living in a superficial reality where people seem to instinctively click into place like clockwork. Apart of instinct would be to get on with things, eat breakfast, go to work, finally get a break, back to work, then go home and sleep. not realizing the monotonous routine life has turned into, but instead, taking great satisfaction from that feeling they get at the end of the day for constantly moving around. not taking a second to think....
They all fit into that part of instinct so that you can get on with things.

Its when your doing everything like everyone else and there's an inkling at the back of your mind, like a loose thread, and the fabricated reality starts getting pulled and unfurls from underneath the surface of your mind, that makes you start to question.
and suddenly, it feels like you've been ripped out of the vacuum tight loop, and your in the world with everyone else but everything is different..
faces change from the way they wear there makeup to the vacant stare.. the human stare.
and everyone starts to look the same, talking to themselves in groups.
everyones talking to themselves within the loop, and no one but you seems to be out of it.

its sort of like the song "people are strange - the Doors"

People are strange when youre a stranger
Faces look ugly when youre alone
Women seem wicked when youre unwanted
Streets are uneven when youre down
When youre strange
Faces come out of the rain
When youre strange
No one remembers your name
People are strange when youre a stranger
Faces look ugly when youre alone

madness

2009-02-06T09:34:00.000-08:00

succumbing to madness.

crazy, slurred pulsating feeling,
have to speak without the talking,
have to listen without speaking,
eye contact, your eyes are bleeding.
have to sing a song of silence,
that echo's through these walls of sadness,
justify these walls of madness
and please dont let me fall to pieces.

open windows in my mind
let in the wind.
fall past grace and fall past time
where the faces are all drawn to tasks,
why cant people see through the rain?
see through so i don't fall to pieces
make sure i don't fall to pieces.

everybodys indoctrinated,
everybodys complicated,
and it makes me want to fall to peices
make me want to fall to peices.

random ranting

2009-02-06T09:28:00.000-08:00

out of the loop, life's an in-joke, you had to be there,
but you got left out because you fell asleep at some point.
and its all a grey blur and he screams as he preaches the words you were meant to listen to.
and now you didn't hear the meaning behind the smiles.
the life lessons for staying in the loop.
and everyone can speak this unspeakable and knowing happiness, and wake up and eat 3 times a day.
and get up an hour early so they can wash and brush there hair.
and look in a mirror and see the potential and not the errors.
those ugly gut-wrenching reflections of your pain.
that you try and disguise it but its all crystal clear.
your past and your fears, that you thought no one could see until you looked in the mirror.
and everyone saw what they didn't understand.
and didn't care.