Character Traits of a Cityscape

Hyperextended radio towers
Sprained antenas need to be mended
Palpitating foliage congregating around corner stores
Epileptic helicopters careening erratically
Depressed mailboxes refuse to open their mouths
Passive-agressive fire-hydrants bursting like shattered ceramics
Suicidal kayaks wobble towards the bottom of the lake
Apathetic guitars refuse to sing along with fingers
ADD headlights lose focus and cause collisions
The discontented sun wanders away
The unappreciative moon hurls itself at the earth
Stop signs furtively say go shirking responsibilities
The streets cowardly lane lines slither away
----Be thankful the world doesn't behave as we do,
If it were without a doubt we'd all be through

Ride Home

Nauseated on the bus
Coping with common lust
For reasons undisclosed
Windows are cataracts to reality
On this rectangular ride
And this petroleum-addicted
Pavement afflicted
Beast is so tranquil
From the inside
The cheap aluminum-silver lizard hide
Marks the cataracts distinguished divide
Back and forth my nausea trickles
What's a body worth when it's so fickle

Thoughts

Today's regret will be tomorrow's motivation, of what to do and not to.
Convictions are as overused and disposable as lies.
Don't criticize change.
Do not bind yourself to responsibilities.(fulfilling them is fine-but being controlled by them is unacceptable)

Widow

Negative space
Covered in lave
Defines the weeping widow
Next to the willow
Treats
the
gargantuan
Grief
Like a cool pillow
Outside of the
Dimly lit room
A grim taste of gloom
The vociferous din
Billows in the shape of a mushroom
Relative haste
Lover's delaced
in the confines
of the sleeping widow
Expect the grief to grow
Mutter a hard 'thanks'
and grin a lie with your teeth
She shrilled to the star-scattered atmosphere
'At this point of hardly mattered if you were here!'
She ranted further of how
'God' had hurt her..........
Blessed are the festive
who are fake for any god's sake.

Futurist

Reading about a new technology
And every novels atom that drizzles into existence
Is indictive of a progressive resignation
A trip to the ends of the earth with no sails and no
crew
A trip that no longer depends on the mirth that I hailed as the
new definition
of human life
of this illusory struggle that everyone is irked by

A Jester Minus the Jocularity

You’re never gettin an amiable apology
You’ll get a dissatisfied sorry
barring the
Point where you realize your actions
And I’ll never understand your turntable of psychology
Your brains spinnin and the lack of stability is starving me
We were a blooming tree
And now shadows are looming over me
In the back of my mind
I analyze the wrong
The wrongs analyze me until
Your eyes begin to shine

Sayin sorry
Falsifying fact
Instinctively denying
impulse
The brink thinks for me and its
ordered in a
Bounding shred
of a new
compulsion


Time for a greater piece
A greater range
of change
And opportunity for the deranged
my you’re strange
You piece of slime-
We’ll always end up estranged
Get out of my lengthy lane
in this street full of flashbacks
Your mind’s become rubbish
is there a piece of your body that lacks trash?!?!
Flashbacks……lacks trash……..Going so fast
……..He demeans you behind your back…
……...And you’re a screen of hindrance holding away
Just pushing away
Just wasting away
We’re all killing ourselves while taking steps after step
Self-medication is a mistake but a good one at that
I know what I did
so.,,,,
Just LET ME LIVE!
L-llll-etttt me Live!

Sayin sorry
Falsifying fact
Instinctively denying
impulse
The brink thinks for me and its
ordered in a
Bounding shred
of a new
compulsion
hahahahaha….
You are my new expulsion
So go on out the door
cross the floor

Forward Motion in Vegas

I’m fastened upward-arms dangling downward
Blood-bitter bastards in the pit that had mangled me forward
The grass in the upswing couldn’t cancel out
the dance about the bedraggling
Choreographed by neon corpses
Massaging, monologue within the electrified signs that entrance and shout
You’re your own trap and we’ll see your wrongs are greeted by horses
met at the gate with a casket full of plagues
It’s worth fighting my flirtatious fate just to see you age

When I'm In the Ground

you were trapsin around my funeral
clad in black
Next to the shack
It was just fate you were at my funeral
wailing hymns not fit for living ears
sobbing sins that you spit through that dousing of tears
at this point cryin’s for naught
I’m gone carry on-forget this spot
I was gettin lowered into the ground
Rigor mortis is my new best friend
It’s a shame this dream had to end
Cuz everything from the daffodils
To the verdant hills
screeched
‘We miss him so’
You were fakin your pain at my funeral
You were embracing my pain at my funeral
All I wanted was goodbye, a somber wave
But you trampled the flowers-kicked mud everywhere
Rambled about what a disaster I was- threw punch in their hair
How dare you pretend to care
I’m gone this song has lost it’s air

Just One

I need a new nuance
To occupy my thoughts
I need a new existence
I need new nuances
So my thoughts will have something to occupy
Something to dwell in and upon
And that occupation could possibly bring some peace that I could hold
my thoughts are worker bees toiling to satisfy a queen that isn’t there
I could rot from hurt or disease just to ratify what I mean but who would truly care
Nuances are my observation
Nuances are my art
Nuances are my poetry
Nuances define the inner-workings of this
third-eaten third-bruised third-healing heart
If I were floating out at sea
abandoned by the boat
and all hope
then I would tell you to
sail on past and leave me to the
burnt beaten burnt-bruised burnt-pealing sharks

How Dare I

I am selfless.
The only thing I ask is that
Judgment isn’t passed so fast

I am selfless
The groaning gauze cast that
Befuddles the motions of my arms wont last
As long as my past

I’m hurting, my mind is spurting little trinkets
Of antiquity
That I can no longer identify
my thoughts are leaking onto the busy sidewalks
my sentiments are crumbling little currency that heaven spent
On the circular crowds all around me but facing outward
All this attention
All these connections
And I’ve never felt emptier
Who sent me here?
I ask nothing of anyone-so why is so much expected of me
Not a thing of the cliques
Not a thing of those I’ve befriended
I don’t ask for forgiveness from those
who have ended
Their place and grace in my space
A beam of warm light cross-hatching in diamonds over my closed eyelids
That would be such beauty
Such extravagant, emblazoned, exotic beauty

Transport

I just want to recover the tracks for this stumbling train
And give it a course
But I don't speak effort
Anymore
I'm not fluent-and my voicebox is hoarse
And my creativity has become coarse
crawling on my hands and knees
Travelling over this gravel
isn't enough at the point the here and now?

Lethargy,let me go

Who do you think you are
I hope you sink right where you are
and I feel
as if i haven't slept in months
As if I've becomed maddened by these fatigued lumps
That are my eyes
And their lids are reluctant shutters

Organization

Standardizing anything turns it into a hassle. Have you noticed that the greatest accomplishments in music, art, and everything else have been the result of free will and focus? Not mandated monotony. Organization is the enemy of progress; if ideas and goals don’t flow freely then none of them will solidify in the end. Inspiration and structure are a contradiction that cannot be justified. I’ve learned more through my own research than I ever have because of the influence/forceful nature of school. This cumulates in high school drop outs, and general academic apathy.

Done

I want my innocence back!!!
I wanna weep in the corner
with this damned jaded nature in my eyes
I feel I've earned more
I feel I've learned more than this- cyclical thoughts so pitiful
I'm not happy as this scarecrow
straw under my skin
straw in my heart
straw over those same deprived eyes..
But the innocence leaves me defenseless.....
Let me feel what I wish! just walk away! since when did you become my coroner!?!
I've crammed so much filth into this eraser that
beauty is digusting
And corruption is gorgeous
I've concealed what you yearned for
But no more
no more
And I died as this scarecrow
dead leaves and straw bundled in my blood
I breath but you saw how I mumbled through the mud
Dripping down my chin.
And you backed away so petrified
At the sight that met your eyes
so just.
Let me feel what I wish!
Let me walk away!!
Let me be be your coroner!
Let me feel you walk away!!

Falling

These tender aggravations rubbed raw, but we keep clenching them with the utmost desperation.
The throes of the blows caused by the clubs that we juggled back and forth
I want to be
Intuitively free
but now I see
What it’s doing to me
I could render gravitation, of what you said the drugs saw through your eyes, eying the cutthroat’s expectations
The corpses grow in the snow causing the bear cubs to huddle together for warmth
I want to be
Naturally free
but now I see
That’s it’s battering me

Pondering Contentment

Some degree of popularity should indicate happiness of some kind. But contentment is just as much a choice as discontentment is. All the lonely malcontents of the world have built depression around them. Sadness isn’t truly natural, it’s ungratefulness. It’s an inability to ponder the positives. It’s laziness to not harness the prehensile nature of happiness. You have to channel a desire to feel a certain way to achieve that emotion. A state of mind is like a goal which you have to remain consistently committed to. I believe euphoria is dependent on ambition and little more…..Because I have had absolutely no support from anyone at earlier points in my life and I was completely fine. I didn’t feel hollow in the slightest- if anything I felt liberated by being responsible for only myself. The definition of happiness is to achieve satisfaction without hurting others. At least this is how I feel. This may seem like a selfish delusion meant to give security, but if you realize what makes you happy you don’t need a single person’s approval. Happiness is an esoteric struggle, a puzzle with colored pieces which alternate tones without warning. It’s a map with ink that blotches sporadically if you focus too much on it. Inward thinking produces pessimists, Outward thinking produces passion. The nurturance of other people’s happiness has satisfied me far more than helping myself ever has.

News Flash!

Today the Pentagon ordered 9,000,000,000,000 troops to march into a volcano. When they asked why they needed to do this President Bush reportedly said
‘There are terrorists in there!!!!’

Electronics

To make up my mind
I have to repair yours
Restoration is a grating primadonnna cyclone
And naiveté is no excuse for rash condemnations that burn down my home
This connection is an electronic explosion
Of chip boards, wires, and a redirected hum of the power it holds
Everything was expressionistic
Everything was intricate, intimate at least
Nothing has ever been so masochistic
as trying
to help people
to not replace them out of boredom
Your rationale needs to reboot
Your dreary declarations need to degauss
You sear me with expectations-that only bring loss

Communication

It’s symbiotic sentiment that I’d rather not entertain
It’s an embryonic pestilence dripping from dark cranes
Crushing notes into a keyboard hoping for a song
A blushing hope is what’s in store
When you realized it was strong
Self-esteem’s an elevator
And yours is on the bottom floor
There aren’t any revolutionary negotiations
There aren’t many melting blue canaries to glue to the train station
Their wings lay plastered
Like me to my mind
Self-absorption
A distortion
But it seems rather kind

Once upon a time

There once was a fairly new set of obese novelists that wrote about the journeys of exploring a sphincter with a giant sword named Buttcaliber which assisted in selecting the right man thongs to build an empire of bloody noses which they deemed ‘The Sweatiest Nakedest Darn Place on EFJDlobville' No one was all that impressed with this suddent declaration of nudity and perspiration so they all began to use iguanas as tennis rackets, pogo sticks, and various other recreational materials. Occasionally the iguanas would become dead presidents in zombie incarnate form and begin feeding on a burlap sack of chickens.

Why has

Everything become a form of exhaustion?

Learnings

I’m your tutor
Your doubter
And so much more
I’m ruder
I’m the shouter
We’ll see what’s in store
I bypassed the highway
Like some clogged arteries
The dashes on the road
like the ashes in your eyes
Is that a vein?
a pebble or just a stye
I’m a rebel without a notion of a cause
Maybe I just wanna die
Your wounds are oozing but I’ve run out of gauze
and that’s a shame well that’s a damn shame
But the more you complain and longer I stand the quicker
I go insane
I’m your tutor
Your doubter
And so much more
I’m ruder
I’m the shouter
We’ll see what’s in store
What’s in store but a bore
A conflict
A crass compromise
that complicates
Until the pores of my skin themselves
Spun pills towards you grin like a pinball machine
They ricocheted all the way
To grasses so green
Your tutor is tired
Your doubter is exhausted
And so much more