warning label

if i can't keep friends
by being honest
then i'm better off
without them

i dont need to keep things
interesting
by lying

& if you can't laugh at yourself
then i'm better off keeping quiet

because you can't have fun with me
and take yourself seriously

but i don't speak to offend

its just always more fun
outside your comfort zone

tell me something good

tell me something good
show me something beautiful
now that the whole world
has slipped from my hands

i'm swimming through this dream -
this stream of fuzzy feelings
i can't make sense of anything
or when it all might end

so tell me something good
show me something beautiful
some perfection for example
just help me find that smile

walking down this tunnel
my hopes have become dull
but wouldn't it be wonderful
to finally see some light

who cares if its a train
gunning straight for me?
as long as it inspires me
to dream that way again

just tell me something good
show me something beautiful
remind me of the reasons i have
to keep my head up high

cos time keeps running by
though he started by my side

but i can't keep up
with these smoker's lungs
and distractions left & right

state of the union.

we need to end this disillusionment
& rise up against the oppression we face

from the barrels of bureaucrats
going insane with our blind faith

and pulling their triggers
with our fear-stained

silence.

the power of revolution
is in the fists of the citizens -

it lies on the tip of our tongue!

why can't we be
one nation -

united under the gods
& an honest resolve

for peace, liberty,
& justice for all?

payback.

from despair he crawled
like a scorpion

to his arachnaphobic prey.

this is his chance
to prove them wrong --

his chance to defy what they say.

my demands.

i want to change the perception of poetry.

i want it to become a sort of hidden magick --
syllables dancing upon natural aural meter.

i want to eat the gods
with a forked conciousness
and sharpened tongue.

i want to bend light waves
around fragments of inspiration

and remember the beauty of the world
through ink stains on blank paper.

rough times.

i'm sorry, my love!
i feel so ashamed
for leaving you the same way
they have left me behind!

i've longed for you
every day, waiting for
the perfect opportunity
to crawl back on my knees -

begging for forgiveness.
begging for inspiration.

for guidance. & confidence.

and though you've flirted with me
all but a few times since then,

i just want you to know
that, no matter what happens,

it is you - poetry - who made me who i am.

and though sometimes
i can't find that perfect rhyme,

i will always and forever
be no less

than poet.

conform!

is it just me,
or does it seem like
nobody tries?
& nothing matters?

is it just me,
or are people's dreams
confined to these molds
sold wholesale on tv?

"don't take chances!
just give in!
have our opinions
& learn to be different!"

my goal in this life
is to defy the lies
of these force-fed stereotypes.

giving up.

if i were to give up
& play hard to get
would you still persue me?

would i hear promises
of companionship
& your unwavering loyalty?

are you willing to wait
til i say i'm ready

and prove to me
that you're really worthy?

or should i forsake this dream
& go back to the way
that was never really working?

my love.

my love listens --
pays attention

she rewrites herself
to console my feelings
& doesn't have structure
to her daily routine

[spontaneous...just the way i like 'em]

she formulates her syllables
into mystic spells,
heard by the ancient dieties

[she prays to the fire god
& worships a paper messiah]

she cries
for my dry eyes

she bears my bruises
when i've run out of skin

she picks at my scabs
so i can bleed again

[if i'm free of suffering,
then i'm blind to her natural beauty]

she melts into me
& sighs beneath my fingers

[i caress her similies
& slide my tongue into her metaphors]

have you heard of my love?
her name

...is POETRY.