Thursday, November 1, 2012

here, still


there's medicine to take
to make the pain go away
but i'm not ready just yet
here, the sun is going down
here, my thoughts are burning out
like the flames in the sky
scattered by the ocean of night

still, i just want to feel a moment longer
still, i just want to sink into the subtle skin of nightmare

there's nothing to rage against
here inside this broken tomb
the walls have crumbled and
i'm left bathed in the light
i can see everything outside
but who will remember this place, if not me?

who will read all the stories on the wall?
words and pictographs engaged in their secret dance
who will ever see my footprints on the floor?

i once was a dreamer
singing stars down from the sky
i dreamed of time
i dreamed of sand

i once was a phantom
i hid with owls in the trees
i hid from everyone to save my feathered cloak

i once was a scarecrow
watching everything pass by
until a peasant came and set my feet on fire
and i knew right then that i would have to go

i am a wanderer
drinking coffee on your couch
holes in my sweater
i can't seem to fight this chill
the tears stay locked inside
i can't find where they've gone
i only know that i can't tell when something's wrong
i never thought i'd be this still

i should've apologized
about two hundred times by now
i stole this rhythm from a song
i can't be bothered, now, to hide it anymore
we lie, we cheat, we steal
and then we hit the floor

i was a dreamer
singing stars down from the sky
that's where i left one friend behind
i dreamed of time
i dreamed of sand
but i would never offer up a simple hand

i was a phantom
i hid with owls in the trees
i hid from everyone to save my feathered cloak
and when i met the ground no one was there to know

i was a scarecrow
watching everything pass by
looking no one in the eye
until a lost man came and set my feet on fire
i could've stayed and burned
instead i found desire

i am a wanderer
walking naked through the sin
and what will happen if i lose myself again?
will there still be something left for me to win?

there's nothing to rage against
here, inside this broken tomb
my heart is empty
but that only means there's room

i tried to write a poem
with a song stuck in my head
so all the lines are just repeating now, instead
and here, the sun is going down
still, no apologies are found

Friday, September 21, 2012

overflowing

so many past stories
i can't go back and fix the endings to
so many chances
to hear birds in the morning
without kneeling
so many ways i could've faced the scarecrow
head on
like a crash of lightning
yet i stayed in my box
pretending this chunk of cardboard was the tardis
traveling through all of space
and all of time
fighting the monsters in my head
dear me, i thought i was traveling
i didn't realize i was hiding
from the sky

now here i am faced with everything
from a view of desert mountains through dusty glass
to the crystal i left at the party
the crystal earring i left in your van
ocean cliffs covered in mist
a mishipeshu tattoo
and models of kokopelli everywhere
i need to hear the crystal bowls again
or the sound of an airplane not taking me away from something
but bringing me to something
for my tardis vision has vanished
and i'm lost in time

Thursday, August 30, 2012

hit enter to leave a space after each post

i daydream my life away
too afraid to see my own world
but what would my life have been like if i'd been a real person?
oh well, i guess i'll never find out now


Tuesday, August 28, 2012

operation: upload random pictures and then caption them

seriously. random. i'm just gonna close my eyes and starting clicking buttons.

hey, guys, come look - there's some guy trapped under the water

seriously, look, he's waving back at me!


yeah, i got the same picture both times somehow.

let's take a closer look at what's happening in the photo. one bird, as we've established, is waving at his own reflection (me). another bird is drilling for oil. and the other one is pretending to be a flamingo.

in this photograph, we can clearly see the three major personality types in our society. the productive (oil driller), the actors (flamingo dude), and the utterly insane (me).




Wednesday, August 22, 2012

bi-polar

sometimes i just
want to push you up against a wall
and tell you there's nothing wrong with you
that the real problem here
is how often you're told there's something wrong with you

do you really think it means something
when you don't fit in with all this shit?
do you really think your brain's the problem
not the abuse and the analyzations of an incoherent
overmedicated society?

the same thing every day:
we treat the symptoms, not the illness
because the illness is
how instead of embracing individual strengths
we try to shove everyone into the same mold
focusing on the weaknesses of a few
while letting other weaknesses run rampant
and the harder we shove, the worse it gets

it's okay to be selfish, controlling, manipulative
it's okay to value money and possessions over people
it's okay to judge others based purely on what
whoever happens to be in power
seems to value

even though we read histories
of reasons people were persecuted in the past
and cry the blood of mercy for those who've suffered
we think
what fools people were then
for not having a better understanding

but what do we understand now?
tell me

you sit with me on the porch
in an evening all stars and cheap champagne
and you say
"i'm afraid."
you say
"there are things wrong with my brain."
so tell me whose brain is perfect, then

it's not that i mean to undervalue your pain
it's not that i don't realize
you have things on your mind
you might not be ready to talk about yet

it's just that i wish i had the courage
to look you in the eye
and tell you you're not crazy
and i wish that there was any reason you'd believe me



Saturday, August 18, 2012

dreams: busride

people wonder sometimes why i make such a big deal out of being unhappy, why i can't just suck it up and deal with it like everyone else. maybe i just remember my dreams too well (i don't mean "hopes," here, i'm referring to actual asleep at night dreams). like the one i woke up from this morning:

i got on a bus i didn't want to get on, to go some place i didn't feel like going. trudging through is useful much of the time, but i was having one of my "i need to step outside of this right now" days. i ignored the feeling, however, and kept on moving through my day.
almost as soon as the bus left the stop, it blew a tire. as the driver struggled to regain control, he aimed the bus off the road and toward a fence. but it hit the fence just a little too hard and started rolling backward, until it hit a shopping cart. the shopping cart got wedged under it in such a way as to cause it to tip over.
the whole time i'd been thinking some combination  of "i should'nt've gotten on this bus" and "no it'll be okay. i had no way of knowing. and i 'm overreacting."
and as the bus fell onto its side and i was looking down at the glass that would break under me, thinking about the people who would land on me, wondeing if we were going to skid along the ground or if the gas tank would explode, all i could think was "if i die here, no-one will ever even know i didn't want to get on this bus. i could've been somewhere else right now.

and then my alarm woke me up to start the day. so, here i am. lunch break. coffee shop. writing about my dream.

8-10-12

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

turtle island

i just can't seem to find enough sea glass
to build the vase of my dreams
and as i glue the fragments together
i can see the obvious differences
between what i'm doing
and what i thought i'd be doing

i waited a lifetime on turtle island
hoping i'd find you there
but your ship never came
and before too long i sailed away
to a place of headaches and regret

it's not that i haven't loved this journey
it's just that i thought it'd be over by now
i thought we would be
sprawled out in the sand
covered in sea weed
laughing at the sky
laughing at our own stories
of the time we spent apart

i thought i would be
standing with you like i was in my dream
feeling the type of bliss i've blocked from my waking sense
because there's no sense in remembering
what may not come again

and what would it take, i wonder
for me to break away from this old longing?
how happy would i have to be to forget you?

if you could let me know you've forgotten me
a part of me would die
but another part of me could live

though i'd rather go back to turtle island
and meet you there
and bask in all the parts of dreams i've hidden away

Thursday, July 12, 2012

"this dead end street gives false hopes of going somewhere"

and when i look at these dreams that kept me going for so long
i'm not sure, anymore, if those things are for me
or if they're someone else's story

maybe my story has already been lived
all in all, it's been a beautiful one
of shining faces and brilliant songs

my story is the one with so many traintracks
a heart-shaped rock tossed into the woods
eating avocado for the first time in the desert
and the mellow high of driving for hours

is it time to cast aside the images that used to comfort me
the truths i used to think i knew?
is it time to stop thinking the past is the future
that there are keys in the places i've been
to unlock the places i'll be?

everything's all tied up
everything's connected
but it needs to be untangled and woven

(these were just some lines from last night. not a finished poem, but it's unlikely to be finished, now, since my mind has already wandered to completely different places.)

Tuesday, July 3, 2012

the one that's an angel

the rain surrounds my face
a chill wind from the window
but it's not real weather
it's in my mind, my hearing
coming in with the song
"to another world"

and i remember
dancing to this song in the kitchen
years and homes and stories ago
playing it from this very same website
on this very same computer
maybe it was raining, then

amazing the things that change our personalities
a glimpse of a certain color
the misheard lines of songs

every time we drive, we drive so close to the homes of many
every word we say is someone's history
or someone's dream
the rust on their shovel
the lilac at their feet
the face they failed to recognize in the crowd
the light that brought them home


we cannot say
what does and does not bring light to another
and any guess would be inaccurate


and sometimes we forget
what does and does not bring light to ourselves
but the music always reminds us




Friday, June 29, 2012

cultivating emotions with apathy

speak clearly or they'll cut you down
pretty as they are
any cornered animal learns to become a predator
waiting to rip you to shreds
before you can do so to them
whether or not you'd have ever considered it

 choose your words carefully, without emotion
feelings have no place in this exchange
it's a battle of wills testing the strength of your resolve
testing your motivation to continue or walk away

i have a tendency to stay too long
i have a tendency to try too hard
i have a tendency to think i can win

because it's too terribly sad to think that nobody wins

Thursday, June 28, 2012

inventions

we're only here for the same thing
that feeling of
something to explain me
and everywhere we go, the same search
each stage another chapter in an unending saga

there's no happily ever after, we knew that
but what we didn't know
is there is never anything at all that can be called a conclusion
real life episodes blur together into chaos
at no point
do we stop and rest
we journey, we battle, we bury our dead
the rebuilding of the kingdom never finished before the next battle

we're here for the same thing
someone who loves us for who we are
and not who they've invented for us to be
though we're just as much an invention to ourselves

what do we do with ourselves
when we've finally realized
how little we understand?
how do we understand
a world which does not wish to be understood?

up late drinking coffee
browsing novels online
and waiting for a message i won't receive
some habits never die, others just recur
and at first they seem like
reawakened corpses from the last magical blast
zombies of instances passed
and that's where we so often screw everything up
if we're not smart enough to know
that we don't really know anything
that everything
and everyone
is new
every time






Monday, June 18, 2012

change is subtle

who am i kidding
thinking i could cast this play
thinking i could cast myself as the sun?
there's no refunds, you know
and i've already bought the ticket
to a film that's probably not showing

i pushed chemicals out and pulled tides in
became the ocean with my breath
i linger on cliffs
silently mouthing the words to my favorite songs
at the top of my lungs
doing all that
transparent eyeball shit
trying to know all of existence at once
when i don't even know what i'll be tomorrow

in case you wanted to know
what it feels like to let everything go
and try to grow something new within
most of the time, it's like some gentle thread of weather on your face
sun or rain, wind, or whatever you like
peaceful brilliant fulfillment
but every now and again, it's like this
claws ripping at your eyes
blinding you to everything but the likelihood of your own failure
and it's in these moments
we realize
we're actually doing something