| (no subject) |
[Mar. 27th, 2011|03:06 pm] |
there are days when the clouds hang so low that you could reach your arms in up like church choir testimony and you could almost touch them
i remember believing that i could stand on them on the clouds and sometimes i still believe i can
i remember climbing boxcars and pretending they were taking me somewhere better somewhere where nobody hurt i remember hands covered in train track grease and dirt and even if i fell even when it hurt i believed that there was something better something that looks and sounds like art and sometimes
i still believe there is
i dont remember music but i remember dancing i remember the sound of my mothers heart i remember believing that my heart like hers would love with such a rhythm that i could dance without music i would dance with just love
sometimes i still believe i can
and on that day i will be dancing on cloudy skies |
|
|
| advice from a poet. |
[Mar. 24th, 2011|03:37 pm] |
read Henry Miller don't have sex with french prostitutes
pick up a guitar make as much noise as you can drown out the sorrow
even the worst sound that comes from a sour string is better than machine guns echoing in 3rd world battle fields
don't watch the news
go outside drink red wine stop watching entertainment tonight
johnny depp isn't real he's like santa clause
...or jesus
don't take it seriously things really aren't that bad if they were we would have given it up by now
if you ever find yourself on the edge take 3 deep breathes before you jump
i heard somewhere that that helps.
everything is a drum if you hit it the right way
cats know exactly whats going on. all the time they are smarter than we are.
take a nap and if you have a bad dream wake up
and take 3 deep breathes im pretty sure that helps. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Mar. 23rd, 2011|11:49 am] |
everything is perfect we're all doing just fine no one is running out of time we will all receive the promised prize everything we say will rhyme you'll get whats yours and ill take whats mine everyone is getting along just fine. and the sun will continue to take his place on the throne of the summer sky and will fall at dusk only because very simply it must the kingdom of the night has its own king and you and i are royalty with him all hail the moon a poorly lit room the city the streets the highways are veins carry us like blood towards the towns where we will find love and where we will leave it behind at the truck stops of loss small town regrets forgotten by dawn and it'll be just fine, baby girl everything will be just fine. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Mar. 18th, 2011|10:11 am] |
you cant change the tides and you should never try. a heart that outweighs the california sun. love like an interstate stretching across deserts and plains ending at the place where it all began 2am wrapped in an old blanket on the shores of everything that ever meant anything the taste of red wine still on her lips the fruition of knowing as a shared shiver runs through both of your chests and in this moment you will finally know the solution to an equation painted in dying stars across california skies millennia in the making.
and the tide comes in slowly. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Feb. 7th, 2011|07:44 am] |
i used to laugh at the suits and ties used to live life make art and write
after all the loves and losses the late nights and slow days the hard times the good luck after all the fights and all the fucks freeways of midnights littered with cars and trucks cheap thrills that helped to forgive forgotten dreams after all of this still it seems art has not yet paid the bills
writing this down by the morning light brought on by another sleepless night happy hours hollow hopes of heavens welcome and god regrets to inform us that its full up there we should have died sooner
and now all i want is a 9 to 5 |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Feb. 4th, 2011|02:08 pm] |
|
you rarely see it coming, and you almost never see it go. love is reckless, love is violent, love is fucking dangerous, and then, suddenly, love is on a greyhound and you're left standing on a high hill trying to see Nashville. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jan. 28th, 2011|02:17 am] |
death come swift suffer no more knuckles break plaster cracks we will bleed for this transgression
the poets will finally know what it means to die alone they will bleed for absolution
the painters will finally know the true color of empty space they will bleed without discretion
and the wolves will finally have their fill |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jan. 13th, 2011|03:37 pm] |
when i press3d my ear against her hips i prayed for the comfort of the ocean heard the sound of traffic instead the gray skies reflect the empty sidewalks and streets and its getting harder to breathe every day at least her skin looked gold by the streetlight bleeding thru the window |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Sep. 1st, 2010|01:48 am] |
big dreams of big ships and paychecks that dont run out in the in between weeks a belly full of red wine and a head full of doom clouds if you want any pasta i have some pasta if your hungry i am hungry for more than pasta more than red wine and i am thirsty for more than this empty excuse for love and then again my heart is parched most of the time and then again my belly is always full of red wine. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Aug. 27th, 2010|01:18 pm] |
double you double you W .poem |
|
|