Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Vomiting On My Current Surrealism




the hiccuping affair that is casting elongated shadows on my current mood. the true pursit of happiness vomiting on my current surrealism, making everything a predicament of such lovely objections. freedom caging me in, housing me to the radiator, heating me up and cooling me down all at once, so precious are the days of this live, yet i am so rabid i'm putting up a glorious insignificant, but ultimately perpetual fight. 

Colour Me Different


I'm slowly shrinking into the smaller parts of me, the ones I think no one sees, that ones that when someone does see it instantly surprises me. I'm slowing urking away from time, questioning things, casting my mind and a blind eye. I'm slowly slowing down, trying to get away from me.

Monday, June 25, 2012

Lost On The Cuff Of The Galaxy




i'm having a hard time gathering my words, lining them up and getting them through. i've been having a hard time connecting the dots to my thoughts and all the things in between. the spaces are trying to eat me up, contain me, i cannot be contained - but i've honestly got no where to go right now. lost on the cuff of the galaxy, looking for some acid to take good care of me, wishing on stars that don't give a damn about me, reaching for things that just don't pertain to me. trying to fit in a puzzle that just doesn't got room for me, and i can't breathe - i'm having trouble seeing the air and i can't seem to get it inside of me. i'm slipping and i got no floor, no chores, no shore to call a home or to ignore because it's all ignoring me and i can't be seen, so tired of the scene. i'm a wreck without the ship, no loot to protect. the belongings have long washed away and i am out here on my neck, with no respect, and no dialect. i can't seem to speak. the words keep runnin' away from me.

Pawing Lovers



The indecent descent of conclusions to stories you didn’t want to hear. The rising action that is slow moving, like a baby’s breath, but slowly creeps to the fast pace rasp of lover’s pawing for each other, pawing for air. Substance, subsequently making everything in a direction unheard of, but you ears are fighting for the sound. Driving with the windows down, not giving a damn, not giving a damn.

Sunday, June 24, 2012

Everyone Eats Poison

when the wind knocks you down like a bad friend. when that same bad friend goes from respecting your world to making it a laughing stock. when the laughter is laced with menace and evils and stabs you in the creases of the mind, your mind, that you weren't sure could be reached. The uplifting moment of realizing that the doubts you once habored are now confrimed, by the snake. poison for me, and poison for them, poison from your words, sneaking in. atmosphere now laced with traces of your ignorance, pitfalls and avalanches of a friendship not worth holding on for.

Saturday, June 23, 2012

The Choo Choo Choo of My Thoughts


Quit questioning my lace bodice, my platform shoe, and my stain lips from last night’s lipstick. Quit questioning the number of eyelashes I have and if I can’t breathe. Quit questioning if my zipper if down or if I need a belt. Quit questioning my train of thought. The choo choo choo of my train of thought. Quit questioning my want to chalk pictures on the streets or leave little messages on napkins to no one in particular. Quit questioning my questioning of my beauty, let me question. 

None of this "YOLO" Business


oh i'm sorry i forgot to tell you that i stopped giving a fuck, and i don't know what's what, and i don't care if your not tough because i've stopped giving a fuck. oh and i'm sorry i'm not sorry, and i'm not in any hurry, and if your on your duck and cover tip - you better duck and scurry because i'm just hanging out not giving a fuck. please to report to you that i just don't care, and that i'm not going anywhere, and i got no where to be because i stopped giving a fuck and i'm just doing what i please, what means i'm just doing me and whatever you start doing, take care, be free - because i've stopped giving a fuck. none of this YOLO business, none of this high high high i'm so fly.. these cars, these times..  because not giving a fuck ain't that hard and there is no provision in this type of peace of mind. let me give you a piece of my mind, because your wasting your time, giving a fuck.

Thursday, June 21, 2012

Half Hazard & Half Awake

Dropping things.
Leaving them behind.
Trying to pick up other things.
Those things aren't mine.
But I find solace in the act of gaining.
Tired of losing, suffocating.
Discarded trinkets, washed.
Washed trinkets, discarded.
I once was wise, feeling retarded.
You'll find me among the broken things.
You'll find me among the song.
I am the blurred face in the street lights.
Where all those things sparkle.
I be the blurred one, missing it.
Half hazard and half awake

I'm Losing Time



time, adding up and subtracting little marks into my soul, into my memories, into me. time, washing things away and conjuring them up just as quickly. time, making a mess out of everything; a mess out of you, and a mess out of me. time, taking it's time, is it allowed to do that? time, racing on by making me move faster, making you leave sooner, making this end quicker. time, never on my side. time, always on the go. time, forgetting to let me go, always has a hold on me, the notion of those hands, their actions doing much more than ticking and tocking. time, stepping on me and stepping on you and stepping on this. time, forgetting it, losing it. how did i do that, lose the time. time, orderly and disorderly, keeping it organized, managing all the i've got on the watch and watching it tick and tock right back at me. time, laughing at me. making me a fool. time, disappearing in the black hole where all the other clocks must go. time, i'm keeping my time on you and keeping some time for me. all while lost among your untimely timing.

Monday, June 18, 2012

WAKING UP / YELLING



WAKING UP TO WAKE UP TO THE REALITY OF EXACTLY WHAT I WAS SLEEPING FROM AND WAKING UP TO THE WAKING UP OF EVERYTHING ELSE THAT HAS DECIDED TO WAKE UP WITH ME, NEVER FOR ME BUT IN A SLIGHTLY OFF BEAT UNISON AND WAKING UP AGAINST ME, A CURRENT OF WAVES WAKING UP AND STUMBLING INTO THE EXACT SAME PLACE I AM. WAKING UP AND JUST WAKING UP AND DOING NOTHING BUT CONSTANTLY WAKING UP. I FIGURE I SHOULD SHOUT THIS BECAUSE I'M TIRED OF JUST WAKING. ALWAYS WAKING UP AND EVERYONE AROUND ME, THE SURROUND BEINGS AND CREATURES JUST WAKING UP AND NEVER MOVING FORWARD, JUST LOOKING FORWARD TO THE NEXT MOMENT OF WAKING UP. WAKING UP INTO A REALM OF CIRCULATING WAKE UPS AND NEVER STOPPING, NEVER LOOKING AROUND - BRIEFLY OPENING YOU EYES TO ONLY GLIMPSE THINGS THAT YOU CAN TAKE TO REST WITH YOU. SLEEPING BUT NOT SLEEPING. WAKING UP TO JUST WAKE UP AND TO DO IT ALL OVER AGAIN. QUIT WAKING UP. TALK TO ME. WAKE UP WITH ME, NEVER FOR ME OR WITHOUT ME. JUST WAKE UP AND NOTICE THAT I AM HERE. THAT WE COULD WAKE UP AND MAKE MOVEMENT AND SOUND AND SEE THINGS AND FEEL LIGHT AND NOTICE THE WEATHER. WAKING UP AND MOVING ON AND DOING IT ALL OVER AGAIN ISN'T A PERFECT WAY TO LIVE AND IT ISN'T JUST A THING TO DO. IT'S NOT LIKE BREATHING. STOP BREATHING YOU WON'T WAKE UP… SO YOU ENJOY IT, RIGHT. THE WAKE UP. BUT ENJOY SOMETHING ELSE WITH ME. WAKE UP WITH ME AND FEEL THE WEATHER. WAKE UP AND QUIT JUST WAKING UP MAKE IT COUNT, DO SOMETHING WHEN YOU WAKE UP. WHY ARE WE CONSTANTLY WAKING UP AND DOING NOTHING ABOUT IT. JUST STOP. WAKE UP ALREADY, WOULD YEAH, WAKE UP .. FOR YOU, WITH ME. OK. YEAH. WAKE UP.

Pulling Out All My Eyelashes, Making Wishes

time melting from the clock, why is it taking so long, where have the restrictions gone. sun setting just above the sound, i want to hear you louder now, then ever before. dancing within the distant silence, looking for a catch of light. making wishes on stars, and pulling out all my eyelashes to see if i can get exactly what i want. high heel obstacles and empty cups. no more parties, no more rush. a celebration to all that has happened, to all that is happening, to the beginning of the ending and the ending of the beginning, the comfort in the comfortable. be comfortable with me. dance with me. lets go home together, you and i.. safe risks, just looking for some oxygen for my moronic state of being. loosing my footing, not sure where to go, whom to call. i want to tell you everything i want to say, i want to stay, keep me.. highlight me and mark me as important, finding pennies and keeping all the luck. ive become a greedy fuck, a greedy fuck for you. 

Sunday, June 17, 2012

I Am Always One Shoe, Without You

The moment when I misplace my keys and I immediately think of you instead of the destination I am suppose to be en route too. When I misplace my shoe, and am left with the colossal feeling of both lonely cold foot and the cold foot feeling that is keeping me back from running to you in my distorted half hazard state of clothing and I want you to keep me warm, safe. The lonely feeling of falling asleep with dvds playing and no one to keep me safe in the flicker of the TV light, long after the credits. The moment I wake up in the middle of the night ad just want to smooze you, heck I've gotta spoon yeah, wanna spoon yeah and with sudden realization I understand that you're missing and it's all missing. I am alway without keys, walking aimlessly around with only one show when I am without you.

Saturday, June 16, 2012

Sunshine Boy / Moonlight Girl



Sunshine boy with his lazer beam eyes, opening up the entire sky. 
Questioning what's got him so mesmerized, what gets him by? 
Casting shadows on your days, reaping the benefits, gettin' paid. 
Sunshine boy with his hot complexion, making faces in your direction. 
Catching your feet when your not looking, reflecting reflecting reflecting. 
Sunshine boy way up in the sky, has you drunk - rather high.. 
Sunshine boy with all his rights, is awfully afaird of the night. 
Moonlight girl and all her beauty, begging you to stay up late. 
Scattering stardust in your hair, making you feel so mighty. 
Showing you another way, making sure you don't love day.. 
Moonlight girl and all her devices, offering up all her goodies. 
Moonlight girl and all her connections, keeping you up all the way. 
Moonlight girl with her pleading shape, hovering light, finds her hiding place. 
Sunshine boy and all his powers, hasn't met his match. 
Moonlight girl and all her ways, hasn't had the time of day. 
The light has got to shine, a shine that has no light.

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

everything,stickingtogether


Yourwildandirrationalsoulisstartingtosetmeonfire.
Icanthelpthewaymybodyisattractedtothelight.
Amindlesssoulpleadingforthedarknesstoignite.
Catchmelookinginthatdirectionandtellmesomethingelse.
Keepmymindatbaybecauseiamsurelynotusetoallthis.
Wantedtoforcefeedyoumyaffectiongettingmenowhere.
Uselessattentionbreakingmybonesthepreassureissoheavy.
Notsurewheretogoorwhyiamcameopeninguphasonlymademesoft.
Didireallybelievethiswasagameiwantedtoplay.
Didireallybelieveicouldparticipatewithallthisfeeling.
Imnotsurewhatshappeningbutiambreakingandcomingtogether.
Allatthesametime.
Idontknowwhattimeitisanymore.
Notquitesurewhatimdoing.
Mythoughtsarentquiteliningupwithwhatimfeeling.
Haveialwaysfeltthisway.
Ithinkivealwaysfeltthisway.

Obscene Things


Recalling things that never even happened, story book living. 
A quilt of everything and everyone I've ever encountered. 
A mixmatched moment of things I've done and things I've seen. 
Mouth concocting details of obscene things, all truth, all realities. 
Adapting to the way things are, adapting to change? 
A disconnected line between you and the events taking place. 
Invited? Showing up anyways, leaving a few words and glances behind. 
You can never be sure of how many people you eyes have met. 
You aren't as alone as you feel. 
They are watching you as much as you are watching them. 
If your eyes left finger prints, I would be covered in them. 
Can you taste me from that far away. 
Stalking me with all you've got. 
Inching forward to inch right back. 
Speak a little louder, I want to recall the things you say. 
Is this just a fable, all a lie? 
A story of yours, or is this a story of mine.

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

Hungry Hippos, Want Us

 a game of the heart, no tic tac toe. a ladder full of snakes causing problems and mistakes. a method used with all it's dices, a pick up game - without the cards - think much more sharper, sharp like shards. careful not to cut yourself, other players with their mouths, are sure to spill the beans. breaking the ice, will case a twister, hot potato - let go of me. no more clues, there aren't any hints - call the docter, operations happening quick. water on the knee, these hippos sure are hungry for a piece of you and a piece of me.

Dance. Shake. Shimmy. Dead.

Dance. 
Dance. 
Shake. 
Shake. 
Shimmy. 
Don't stop. 
Won't stop. 
Can't stop. 
Dance. 
Dance. 
Shake. 
Shake. 
Shimmy. 
Dead.

Define Me Against Your Skin


Define me against your skin, lift me up and breathe me. Don't treat me like your cigarette, a bandage for your current fix, need me and keep me, hold me like the smoke in your lungs, close to your heart. Let me consume you, raise you up. Let stay right there close to you. I am filth, staying right next to you. Get dirty with me. Let's stay dirty. Inhale a pack of me. I'll toast my case of you and swim.

Monday, June 11, 2012

You Are Profound To Me


The systematically correct way to slice your diamond complexion and enjoy the sudden happiness of a budding spring lust that has engulfed your entire year. Throwing away clocks and relaxing in the boarderless reasons of what you are doing with whomever you are doing it with. Ruins, everything suddenly coming together in a half hazard way but looking surprisingly complete and filling in all the lines and even some on the outside to make you feel right at home. Home is where you are. My home has become a travel, a destination I admire and daydream about, a destination I'd return to time after time. A place I have never left. Pop songs, once dispised, now play on a constant loop of punch drunk melody on a radio with no Next button and no Off button, but a constant speech that drums like a finger leafing through a profound booklet of art, only to feel a lot more then it's connected mind will ever understand. A funny, yet reeling little notion of a motion scene, playing out within your everlasting landscape and bumping into people with releative greatness even though there is no solid relation. A steamy force field emulating this vibe that portrays no real evidence to state that it was inside you, a link that only arises when your around, you make it easy for me to breathe. 

Sunday, June 10, 2012

Mash Potato Skies


Waking up to a coffee and a cigarette, 
You turning on my favourite playlist. 
I swear you are the sweetest thing I've ever met. 
No Areosmith reference, pure truth in a blissful haze. 
Look at me through the sunshine of the day, 
Your eyes at half mass blow me away. 
I wish there was a proper name, 
Everything erupting all too Hallmark, taints it, makes it the same. 
You are a different kind of pretty. 
Stay around for a while, don't leave my side. 
Let's play reality, dream of mash potato skies.

KETCHUP?


Electronic love in a paper based world and the fire to the flame was generaded in the hood. 

Rich begging the monsters for a little more pepper, but the salt of this matter is a little bit further.

ketchup?

Can't Quit Self-Parenting

I'm fighting a personal fight inside my personal space with only persons I know. I'm telling myself to backdown, while I rise to the occasion of myself to celebrate my stubbornness.  I'm tieing my gloves and making direct contact with myself and pummelling answers out of me only to validate how I feel. I am who I am. I am I am. I won't give up any details to myself, yet I pounder exactly what those details might be. I am my own worst enemy. I am my own critic. I have parents and plenty of figures telling,  but I cannot stop self-parenting. I'm fighting this vigorus veloicty of she said, I said, he said, I heard, I said.. I cannot recall. 

Saturday, June 9, 2012

Beers and Cigarette, I Wait For You

 I sit here and smoke these cigarettes, seeing bits of you with each exhale, little flakes within the smoke, they glitter and dance and I see you there, with me. I drink this beer, watch it rise from the bottom, over my lips. I want to bring you to my lips. I want you here with me. I see you in the things I encounter. A leave falls briefly from the tree, crosses my past, reminds me of you, dancing around. I sit here and smoke this cigarette, wander around a room full of people I don't know, looking for you, even though I know I'll never find you here, but I look, because looking for you has some sort of hope that I might find you here. And maybe just maybe between puffs of this cigarette, you'll find me here, looking for you. 

Plastic Names

Our world, who claimed the ownership of all the landfills. 
Produce to slurp up the slop of all the words we're all saying. 
All the talk no action, quit stealing my air. 
Making moves, you're the audience to this life. 
No more participating, call in - vote twice, I could be your next idol tomorrow. 
Dish rage ambition, someone's got to wash the dishes. 
Claiming fame, not a dime to your name, with the money gone plastic like the rest of these dames. 
Sillicone dreams, just blowing off steam, not really into this or that just doing it for a name. 
Special guest, give me your fifteen minutes, someone got robbed for a chance for the millions.

Tuesday, June 5, 2012

Prescribing to The Search

Bring out the glass tables, just got back and I've been changing.
Left with a wanderlust of something much more prescribing to the searching in my soul. Experienced left and rights, and the amount of miss has taken it's toll. Bring out the fables and the wine, eloborate tales of the devine. Time has up and left us dry, eyes seeking comfort in the sky. Absorbed the positive vibes of other lives, feeling like you've left an old life behind. Bring out the labels, try and condemn me. Came back the same with a hint of you don't know me. Filled to the brim with "..would you just hold me.."Bring out the love, I've already brought mine. Cast words on the table, let them sink and simmer in sublime. Submit to the idea of a future, submit to me. Let your heart meet mine. No matter the weather, it ain't that far. No mode of transportation to prohibit such efforts. The effects of this affection has got me tongue tied.

Quick Flashbulbs of Your Skin


A burst of a million little moments settling on an already unsettling shoulder, urging me to take cover in your eyelashes, warmed by the flush of your cheeks, memorize my fret. Feel the washing of everything, other, all in the flick of a tongue. Allow my passion to grow hungry and feast on your love. Explore the fullness of the lip and charge into the unbearably smooth contours of a being stretching to be ever reminded of the touch, heat you up, and seer my skin. A heavenly reminder of where I've been. Leave your clothes aloof in my bed, housing the scent, I am painstakingly trying to remember, when the aroma of you throws me into a frenzy. Disrupt my thoughts with quick flashbulbs of your skin. I am alive, but this must be close to wherever heaven is.

Monday, June 4, 2012

Inclining Movements

the movement of making moves causing other motions to make emotions and bend to the solace in all the movement. inhaling to exhale and to exhale to inhale, becoming a constant recycling system, a constant reminder that you are always a little bit of the same, a little bit old, a little bit changing. the tumble in the rumble and the striking of the strikers eyes to preserve something of a timely sort. the sorting out to figure out to bend and change and recycle. the loose ends tied, to come undone and be retied and reminded that everything utterly wants to struggle back to the beginning. things look different, change shape, take on new names, but elements will always hold on to the inclining that won't incline.