The End of All Things

unfinished, unfocused

Wed, 25 Apr 2007 07:38:52 GMT

the ring ring ringing of our fruitless weeping

all burning through tobacco lines

and into ash trays to sit alone thinking

about the years it antiquated,

purged into that dark forest light

where the simple seep of sorrow

will suffice it through the winter.

and how the harrowing thoughtless

all descimated the tracks

leading into the kingdom of thine heavenly;

wormish antibodies can't dispel the truth

that was fed to us through feeding tubes

when we were birthed behind the gates

and cooled under a flaming wing-

how will we ever find our way back?

----------------------

before she caught your eye,

i prayed her's would see me.

before you touched her skin,

i dreamt that i held it.

before you moaned it out,

i worshipped her name.

your wedded hands are squeezing my throat,

rover rover, send me over.

Death, the Playwright

Fri, 22 Dec 2006 02:44:29 GMT

Death is not a stagehand
Behind the scenes,
He is alive
With hands and an empty face,
And he will shake your bed
When you’re sleeping,
He will show you in dreams
What you’re not seeing in wake,
He will play you music
When you’re not listening hard enough,
And you will hear its dark chords
Being strummed from a burning car
Or an empty hospital bed,
You will see the notes
Written in your father’s tears
When his brother leaves the stage
Because his role is over,
And even as the curtain
Falls over your eyes
And you can’t see the play,
You’ll know who was the star.

Mon, 11 Dec 2006 05:42:10 GMT

Friendship Bracelets

I found you floating facedown in a riverbed
And tried to dry you off, but I was
Just as wet and drowning;
We had passed through a storm
While looking for a dream
And it left only us.

We tried every angle
But our broken hearts never fit together;
We’re just two halves connected
By the sorrows we found in the desert
When the mirages found out
We believed in them
And dissolved into hot air.

Our dreams were given up
Like a child falling from a bike,
And we sat through the years
Unwinding clocks and drinking shards of glass,
Waiting for some stranger
To hitch us a ride into devastating solace.

And it would seem as if
The past was just a sketch of the future
When it unfolded with the grace
Of a sinking shore
And took forks in windy roads
Just to find the same trail of tears,
But I know now it’s what
We were always meant to do.

We are souls departed
From the same invisible world
That found comfort in each others’ eyes
Because they reminded us
Of that home we’ve never seen.

And together
We will spend our days
Blowing cobwebs away,
Searching for a calm sea
And fingers that fit through our own.

I'm not so sure these are any good

Sat, 25 Nov 2006 21:19:36 GMT

Winter Solstice

The lazy girl with raven eyes
Lying in a ditch,
Where the rolling leaves
Crumble and bury her;
Tonight her heart will
Be eclipsed by the sun.

The crying farmers raking for gold
In an ocean of black waves;
Tonight their prayers
Will be considered.

The skeletal maid
Cleaning out her closet
And hanging from her own roof;
Tonight her ropes will untangle.

The man with coins in his eyes,
Tailor made for a funeral,
Turning down every card he picks up;
Tonight he’ll be dealt a hand
That shakes back.

The little girl with a wet dress
And a basket of dead flowers
That dance when she gives them
To the wind;
Tonight will be their first recital.

You and I will lie to our mothers
To sit in crowded fields
And watch the skies explode.

-------------------------------

Scrapbook

Is it safe to say that pictures can bleed
And memories can't keep their voices down?
I wait for the day I can
Look back fondly without
Reaching for my cup of poison.

He was standing there the whole time,
Waiting to put a check on my heart
Before it reached out for more
Than it could hold, and who am I
To intervene with an intervention?

But all I wanted was a moment
I wouldn’t want to forget,
So I’ll set down this book by the fire,
And hope it gets licked by flames.

Tell God I want to help
In Time’s assisted suicide.

Something's Wrong

Sat, 04 Nov 2006 07:42:26 GMT

these arent mine, for once

Another day goes by me
Another day of life without you
And as I look around me
I feel so lonely there's noone
Noone here beside me
Noone here to help to see me through
To see me through
To see me through
Cause I need you
Cause I need you

Been standing still for much too long
And I realise there's something wrong
I'm feeling strange, I need a change
And I realise that there's something wrong
There's something wrong
There's something wrong

Another two years over
Don't understand what's happened to me
These days are so much colder
Up against the fire, dont feel any heat
Cracked up years behind me
Cracked up years ahead are all I see
Are all I see

The Mourners

Fri, 13 Oct 2006 07:08:14 GMT

The sky is a messy black
Of spilt coffee and runny ink,
The dark is painted silver by the moon,
The midnight sun,
Lighting up the pine trees like candles,
Like Christmas trees to be.
We dip ourselves in pails of water
But cannot feel the soothing burning,
Cannot breathe the fresh scent of pine needles
Or the blades of wind that whiplash.
They came floating on whispers
Out of the fresh soil
With white tears and rings around their eyes,
Hooded black gowns
Black everything and all
In a quiet funeral march to our feet.
They dropped their skin
And peered into our ears
To tell us we are dead.

Random prose that today's sorrow has written.

Wed, 04 Oct 2006 06:52:57 GMT

My lungs are filling up with baby butterflies
That turn back into worms
When they fly out of my mouth.

My brain is a ball of flickering
Christmas tree lights;
Oh, won’t someone pull out the plug?
It is raw and chirping and without
The help of forgetful medicine
And I wish I could forget where I am.
I put on a suit and talk to people
I can’t look in the eye
Just for a penny,
Because that is what the world
Would have me do.
It’s a disguise; an alter ego, a secret identity,
To pass me off as a working machine
Until my ride shows up.

God has bad breath.

The walls are melting into a puddle
And I am the drain pool.
They flow through me helplessly, endlessly,
I am never dry
Save when a silver tongue
Licks up every drop;
They call him God,
But he never stays for long.

I’m shedding my skin
But I have many layers.
My breaking point is a twig
And I am a child naked in the woods
Freezing alone.
Save a flower for my grave
In the belly of a wolf.
The dark will draw shapes
When there’s no one to check your fear,
No one to marry your neurosis,
No one to eat your funeral dinner.
I want a shoulder to lie on
When my own turns cold.

I fake my death to fool the reaper;
I don’t need his help
(or pity)

I hate everywhere I go
I hate everything I do.
I am wading in sulfur,
Waiting in space
Where there is no air,
Floating with dead angels
Who scream to pass the time,
We are falling into the light.

The mirror is reflecting a dark sky
And there is fire in its eyes
And its backside,
And I suppose they are mine;
My hair of weights,
My shoulder blades of grass.

Sun, 24 Sep 2006 02:36:43 GMT

so they're not Bob Dylan, but I'd still say they're better than most of the shite out there

Clementine

Clementine was a wordless talker,
But no one heard it when she cried.
She took the bottle to wake up pill less,
And wipe the static from her mind.
She closed the door and turned the lights off,
And let herself be swallowed alive.
And she was always the shy and quiet one,
So no one heard it when she died;
She was silent even then.

And I wish I knew her…

Everyone was shocked and speechless
But should have never been surprised.
She took the road too well traveled,
But I can’t say I’ve never tried.
Everyone has a piece of Clementine
Waiting to be realized.
Maybe she was a wordless talker,
But I heard everything in her eyes;
She was screaming the whole time.

And I wish I knew her…

-------------------------------------

These Shaking Bones

I’ve been sleeping in the valley of death
Ever since I drew my first breath,
These shaken bones already cracked,
Divine intervention had the last laugh
And I laughed until it hurt

And up and coming,
Coming up from the ground,
Loyal servants,
Servants to my frown,
They will tear into my skin,
They’re tearing into my skin
Until I’ve done as the devil bid,

And they’re talking about my friends,
They’re talking about my friends,
They’re whispering in my sleep,
They’re keeping me up all night,
They’re sharpening up their stakes
And they’re driving them into my heart,
And they’re taping up my mouth,
They never let me speak,
And they’re talking about my friends…

I’ve been asking God to die
Every teen angst year of my life,
And from the silence I can gather
There will be no April showers
(To cool me, this time)

(repeat chorus)

------------------------------------------

Carousel

You’ve been a bit green around the gills,
Is it the Lord, the great ventriloquist?
He’ll make you swim against the wind,
He’ll pack your bags and take you on a trip

Around the carousel…

Wheels of light turn inside your head
Dragging you along with the stampede
But once you’re on, you cannot get off
Stay seated and enjoy the ride

Around the carousel…

-----------------------------------------

Falling Star

A broken wing
A broken crown,
Thinking a bottle’s gonna
Straighten your frown.

You were a prince
Robed in diamonds,
Pointing others to the road.

But now you, with
Your ripped up shoes
And your skate-punk blues,
Oh, how you gonna get away?

A midnight train,
With your lungs ash stained?
I think that God is trying
To talk to you.

A falling star
Is all you are
From the moment
Your forgot
Forgot the taste
Of the joy
That you let
Into your head.

They say He lead you to a new way,
But you haven’t heard His voice for years.

There was no chicken
And there was no egg,
Her reasons weren’t
The first that came.

You’ve never cried,
Now you wanna try,
But the sting is gonna
Gouge your eyes.

You don’t have to laugh
To know you’re alive,
Let the sick in your stomach
Creep in.

A falling star
Is all you are
From the moment
Your forgot
Forgot the taste
Of the joy
That you kicked
Out of your head.

---------------------------------------------

Dearly Beloved (A Platonic Love Song)

You creep in slowly
With a bag in your hand
It’s not for me
But I’ll take what I can
A day with you and
Nobody else that’s part of the plan…

You pour us tea and
We sip it in stride
It’s a dying art but
That’s why you like it
A clanging of china
That no one will hear…

I saw your boyfriend
Covered in pie
But it’s nothing like that
I never would try
To steal the smile
Away from your face…

But I thought you heard me
Crying in pain
And I thought you read the
Letter I gave you
And I thought you saw me
But it was only a dream…

And you’ll never find me
Outside your window
And I’ll never hear the
Rest of your secrets
But I’m still your soul mate;
Your soul mate on the side…

--------------------------------------

Waiting Room Blues

Pressing through
The windowsill,
We’re chained to
The waiting room

As we listen
To the dark
I’m counting up
The scratch marks

Out of the mind and into the flames
I’m needing you alive tonight

The photograph
Turns my heart
Into sand
In an hourglass

The final minute
Is counted down,
They locked you up
In a zip-lock bag

Out of my mind and out of time
I’m needing you alive this time

--------------------------------------

The Other Side

Five months ago to the day
I was hanging from my closet
Like a newly ironed shirt

Red burns across my neck
From the suit tie that was fastened
To it.

I plunged into the sea
That night under waves
That carried no light.

We were always the ones
Who laughed at every joke
That was told, funny or not.

Every scream we wished to shout
Was kept buried under our chests,
But they always dug back out.

Bound and gagged I sank on through
The bottomless ocean until
I was dragged down far enough

To see there’s more to life than sticks
And stones, and when I’d seen too much
I kicked until I broke my chains.

There were four of us on the shore,
She turned to me with a white light in her eye
And she said, ‘Are we going home?’
I had no reply.

-----------------------------------------

Redeem Us

Every face is a broken glass
And nothing sacred ever lasts
Around here.

And the parking meters are overpaid
But nothing sought is ever gained
Around here.

And the walking dead are moving ‘round
A city street that makes no sound
Around here.

But everyone’s born in a dumpster
Just remember,
It’s not the fault of your mother.

A word to the hurt and the broken,
You’ve a chance to avert it.

Pick up the pencil next to you
Wind the strings beside you,
Raise a glass above you.

Draw a portrait of your fading dreams
Strum until your fingers bleed,
Smash it to the floor and scream.

And if the stones get too much for you
And your saddest thoughts are breaking through,
Just find a soul that’s close to you.

And if the last square is the first one,
And the trees are blocking out the sun
Just shake the branches ‘till every leaf has dropped…

A word to the hurt and the broken,
Live with the passion
That I threw out to sea…

----------------------------------------------

The Great Unknown

In a dream
I saw my friends
They were all at peace
They were finally free
To fly into the great unknown.

And they were on their knees
Whispering to me
Of all the things I’d never see
But I didn’t mind,
Someday I’ll find
The great unknown.

Then(and) I was alone
Tied(stuck) to my bones
It was time to find
A death bed of my own
And fly to the sky,
The great unknown.

And so you’ll dance
And so you’ll cry
And so you’ll sing
And so you’ll die
And fly ‘till you find
The great unknown.

Fri, 22 Sep 2006 06:25:52 GMT

someone fall in love with me

now.

Sand Wings

Thu, 14 Sep 2006 01:01:45 GMT

Blue hearted featherless
Bastard child of God
Smearing the mirror
With blood of your own.
The doors are clever
And only crack open,
But allow the breeze through.
Watch intently
The windmill illuminating
Your place in the universe.

It is a slow death
They say.

In Memory Of...

Fri, 18 Aug 2006 05:31:04 GMT

The fatherless, who search their whole lives
For someone who will read them a story
And kiss them goodnight.

The childless, who always keep a bed made
In case they should ever find their way back home.

The military wives who wait on the shore,
Looking for a ship to come out
Of the bloodied horizon.

The lonely, who never see faces
Because they live in the shadows,

And the dying, who have seen
Their life’s eclipse;
May heaven keep a bed made for them.

God's Shadow

Wed, 26 Jul 2006 03:42:10 GMT

wrote this in the Alaskan wilderness. ok, technically on the plane ride home

God’s Shadow

Beauty is a sword on fire
Cutting through our sackcloth eyes
So we can see again.
And to see the world
Is to let yourself be caught on fire,
Even when your bones are dry.

But we are the children
Of the generation
Raised on tales and folklore
Of Boeing 747’s, landfilling oil rigs
With missing child telethons
And yellow crossways,
A penchant for soul numbing,
Stuffed with drugs like a teddy bear,
Stuffed with anxiety,
Green means go,
Go, go, go.

Framing vistas into photo ops,
Snapping plastic eyelids
That flash like gunshots,
Remodeling the world into museums
And national parks,
Selling it to the devil’s market,
And we always make our money back.
The railroads, the asphalt,
It’s filling up our eyes,
It’s drowning our souls,
Is there any mystery left to the world?

We’ve been told the earth is melting,
And that we’ve used up every corner,
But there are pockets we’ve forgotten
And left behind,
And you won’t find them in Times Square
Or downtown L.A.;
The centers of the universe.
They’re in our blind spots,
The places we’ve ignored.

In the back roads, those less traveled,
Those untouched by man or history,
Grown and kempt without us.
The arctic North, the Southern jungles,
The deserts of our birthplace,
Mouths of water protected by mountain sentinels,
Dressed in fog and light.
Fields of ice and green,
Birds that deliver the messages of God,
Pets that keep us from madness,
Fires that make ashes dance
And burn away our past.

Tunnel clouds that carry the rain on their backs
And break away for the moon and the stars
That have never faded with the years,
And each one you see at night
On your back in the grass,
The hair of the earth,
Was looked upon by every great mind
That ever walked the earth.
Those infinite stars
Over an infinite backdrop,
If it does not make you feel small,
Then you are simply standing too tall.

Webster was much possessed by death, and saw the skull beneath the skin

Tue, 25 Apr 2006 05:42:41 GMT

it makes me sick to my stomach to think about them. because i know what he'll do to her, and she doesn't deserve that. and he doesn't deserve her by a longshot.

i'm just tired of assholes being rewarded for trying to fuck everyone they come into contact with, and i get blown off into the throws for having geniune affection. and no intentions beyond arms to hold. i dont wanna live in a world that's this sick and unfair.

i come home everyday and i just get wrapped up in my own feelings and problems and thoughts that it just drives me crazy, because there's no one to keep it from happening. and i just try to write, and i try to play guitar, and i just pray and hope to God that one day all this pain will have been worth it to somebody else.

Thu, 20 Apr 2006 00:39:46 GMT

haha my uncles are possibly the funniest people alive. the one that lives in Alaska called the house in this hella thick redneck country yokel accent right now, and was telling me that my dad sold him an ice machine that was leaking, and he was gonna come down here and give me a country ass whooping, and he was so serious. ahhhh man you just had to have heard it, funniest stuff ever.

This is when the boiling pot overflows...

Wed, 19 Apr 2006 05:24:58 GMT

and i want nothing to do with anything or anyone.

i need a shower.

and new freinds.

Sat, 11 Feb 2006 08:42:06 GMT

hmmm so here are some assorted pictures ive taken in digital imagery. tell me what you think. the best ones are at the bottom i think, but first,

School..........

around home..........

that's a star over the tree, in case you were wondering, i wanted to line them up and make it look like a christmas tree

Jessica's creepy dolls

Halloween

at Sarah's ranch place thingy

and these are my favorites, on the way back from Sacramento. i just love the sun shots........

so yeah, tell me what you think of these, im not sure if im any good of photography, but i do love taking pictures. i also some pics Jessica took of the Coldplay concert that i'll scan and get on here

i'm rather angry tonight

Fri, 03 Feb 2006 04:31:18 GMT

Bulimic Republic

Billboard mannequins line up the streets
Where their mothers break down and weep
For the love-sick children swept off their feet
By a dream that doesn’t come in your sleep
Of a standard they couldn’t possibly meet.
(You should be ashamed of what you do)

They’re the ideal blueprints for intelligent design;
Perfection is now the bare minimum,
So you better make sure that you don’t sit
On one of the benches reserved for the fit.
(Segregation never died,
It just found a new host
In the future leaders of America)

Victoria sniffs up her secret
On the bathroom sink,
Then she struts onto the camera
And into your daughter’s dreams...

There’s a girl I know that lives in the suburbs
Who’s always feeling a bit under the weather
Because purging doesn’t fit her into the latest sweater.
(Slaughtered animal is rather fashionable)
And the stores have run out of Moccasin footwear
(We don’t care about the Indians,
We just like the way we look in them).

Watch Abercrombie and Fitch
Make the slits from which you bleed
Out your wrists,
And you better make sure that it all fits;
Run to the bathroom and make yourself sick.

Because the Nazis of our psyches
Are marching through,
And the French supermodels
Are sniffing glue.
So put on your disguise,
Segregation never died.

But you should be afraid of what you do,
Because if there’s one thing
The oppressed know how to do,
Then it’s to rise up against you.

Black tears are dripping down your cheeks,
Let them fall and wash the mascara off your face.
A newborn child emerging from the waste,
You’re more beautiful than any words I could speak.

Mon, 30 Jan 2006 04:34:15 GMT

Mural Eyes (Can’t See The Sky)

If every artist has a muse

Then every muse has a stalker.

You, the wordless nightingale

Fluttering into the trees,

How I chase after thee

With my spine tingling

Into the dark, under the twilight sun,

Finding only a patch of churned soil

And a strip of bloodied cloth.

My dearly beloved ghost has abandoned me,

So I bury my head in the ground.

If I fall asleep in a dream so life-like

Would I wake up to find it real?

This world is painted in the surreal.

----------------------------------------------------

I swear, five meters I can’t walk from my door

Without a pair of headlights staring me down

Like I’m some kind of deer;

They’re going anywhere but their homes.

And if I stand on the corner too long for them,

One will inevitably pull over

And ask me why I’d do something so very queer.

I simply say, ‘Well Sir, I was looking for fresh air

But instead I’ve found your exhaust.’

They hurry along to their dinner parties.

--------------------------------------------

Dialogue Between Failures

I’ll tell you this secret

Because I’ve always liked you,

When forked in the road

Don’t let your mind wander and wallow,

For it was pain and despair

That gave me the shovel,

But it was my own hands

That dug the grave

Where I was stripped and depraved

Of my very sanity.

And now soon, this deathbed

Will need a changing of pillows,

And the empty mattress

Will seem so inviting,

But cheer up son!

Roots only grow

When they’re given water.

-------------------------------------

Insomnia, Or, When God Wants More From You Than Slumber

My eyelids are weighted

But my head is a carousel

Lit up and moving.

The grandfather clock

Chimes me the hour,

Rubbing salt like it was medicine

And I’m forced from my pillowed bunker

Like a zombie hearing its calling (of flesh).

Sat down at the desk,

I unravel the parcel

Like a scribe,

Stick in the needle

And start the transfusion.

----------------------------------------

Too often it seems

That I’m haunted by dreams

That grant me everything I’ve ever wanted.

They weave their fancy

Around my desires

Until my head is full of cobwebs.

Far worse than any nightmare

That morning could relieve,

When I wake from these fantasies

Their ghosts undress and reveal themselves,

Shoveling piles of stones onto my chest.

Chanting in unison, they mock my hopes

And shatter the highest that survive

Until my cheeks are no longer dry.

They throw me into the cold

Where I fend off the world,

And the only thing these eyes now desire

Are for their lids to be closed and eternally expired.

-------------------------------------------------

Curtain Call

A gust blows through an opened window

And under the layers of your hair,

A smiled is unveiled

As you discuss with him

The things you have in common,

While crossing out the rest of the ven diagram.

It’s always his hair your hands weave through,

Back and forth and down my throat,

In my own room no less.

The wind’s subtle chill

Slithers down my breaking neck;

A token from jealousy.

Alone in a snow globe

Shaken upside down,

Its hollowed residents

Performing their tragedy

For free, for me,

Duck taped to the chair,

And they never let me speak.

Sat, 21 Jan 2006 18:37:52 GMT

im depressed. but i shouldn't be really. so what's the deal? i dont know that ill ever really be okay. not as long as im still in madera wasting all my time and energy on school and convincing myself im not ugly.

i've got mucho poems but im just too lazy to type them up, and too afraid of hating them once i reread them.

linda, jessica, patrick, and chris were over last night. good times, but sometimes i realize how different i am from my freinds and it gets me down. i feel like i couldnt ever really stand to live with anyone else, and i keep feeling lately that im one of those people that just has to be alone. i push alot of people away, i have trouble getting close and attached to people. i dont know if im afraid, or just dont like people, or think that they'll distract me. i dont know.

but anyways, for the past week or two i've been getting just about every symptom of illness you can have, and its sorta freaking me out. probably my most primal fear is getting some kind of disease. i used to freak out about all the time when i was younger though, so now i just try to relax and not worry about it.

hm. i should go to karinas today. haha last week the damn car ran out of gas and we had to push to the gas station, which was luckily just down the street. everyone thought it was hilariously memorable, but i was just pissed off and embarrassed haha.

Untitled's

Sun, 08 Jan 2006 07:48:30 GMT

The faucet has run long enough
And now I’m ready once again
To take a bath in sorrow.
Oh, how long it’s been
Since I felt these cold waters
Creep over my warm skin.
I dip my head under the surface
Where my lungs can never breath;
Oh, how under here
The world is so much
More serene.

-------------------------------------------

My mind’s been chewed to a pulp,
And when I take the heartache aspirin
That etherizes my head,
Hell freezes over
Just to harbor a blizzard,
And I trudge through the snow knee-high
To face the truth that’s been haunting
Every thought swimming behind these eyes;
That everything I ever feared
Was never really there at all.

Sat, 17 Dec 2005 09:02:54 GMT

King Kong is the most awesome movie of everness. go see it.

as my dad spealed to me about the dangers and illegalness of driving freinds around right now, i realised that my parents have become so full of shit that i just cant take anything they say seriously anymore. it is definately time to move on to adulthood.

and lucky me, im on more pills. this time for a learning disorder that my parents finally recognized in my last year of high school. my parents were so fucking hard on me through school (and always at my most suicidal), and i kept telling them i couldn't pay attention or focus, but they just never take anything i say seriously. i can attribute most of my self-esteem problems to them.

anyways, im up to 5 pills a day. i should keep score or place bets.

but...it's christmas vacation! and now i can focus on everything but school, and it's gonna be awesome. but for some reason i'm just not that excited today. maybe i'm tired.

9/11

Tue, 13 Dec 2005 04:51:19 GMT

"A guy managed to call his wife from his office phone near the top of the tower. His wife told him to get on the roof because hopefully a helicopter could pick him up. The door to the roof was locked. She begged him to try to force the door. he tried to no avail. When he returned the second time, they both knew he was about to die and no one could prevent it. They told each other how much they loved one another, reminisced about their lives together, etc. When she saw the tower fall on TV, the line went dead."

that's fucking sad, and if you don't think so you should be castrated.

Wed, 07 Dec 2005 07:06:37 GMT

Bloodsuckers

Out of the mind and into the flames,
Out of the hospital and into the world,
The story of every child
That’s birthed in a dumpster.
The roughest hands will
Form the frailest of spirits
And make your soul want to
Jump in another body,
And after years of the yuppies
Giving me a cross examination,
They’ve led me to an empty Promised Land,
Climbing over the walls of my head
With a hammer and chisel,
Trying to crack through the outer shell;
I hope they choke on the dust.
But they’re never there long enough
To even break a sweat;
When the last minute is counted down
They close up the waiting room
And lock you in a zip-lock bag,
Slap on a label and send you into
The production line to be processed
And dumped back into the world;
Out of your mind and into the flames.

Sun, 04 Dec 2005 23:12:12 GMT

CANNONBAAALLLL!!!!!

anyways.

I need to get this sucker down short enough so it will fit in FM. and that's gonna be one bitch of a task.

so please, tell me what to cut out.

BROKEN AVENUES (Semi-Abridged)

I. MEMORY LANE IS BURNING

Our house was painted white,
But it’s since chipped to driftwood;
Floating on rivers of decay
Through winding bends of shattered homes
And streets paved in grey.
Vines flow through the cracks
Of rain stained bricks,
Like a chipped glass of bourbon
On the verge of spilling.
The leaves are crumbled,
And Fourth Street is a dustbowl.
Tears have poisoned the muddy water
Flooding the cobblestone steps
Of another Victorian home.

Oh, it’s all the same...

On the corner of my house,
Not far from my door,
There’s a dwindling street light
Shone on past its prime,
Now it struggles to blink
Just to show us it’s alive.
And behind the fence,
Past the pavement worn and torn,
Where we pressed our hands in gravel
That was cemented in time,
I used to sit atop
A tree fort in the yard
That my father built me.
And I used to pray to God
For him to show me his face,
Instead he stared me down
And gave me his eyes.

And this is all I remember...

II. THE RIVERS WILL RUN RED

Children I know, brace under waves of fear,
Counting the number of pills
It takes to reach an overdose;
No age is a year too young.
Since it pays to be poisoned,
None of my friends spin the bottle anymore
Unless there’s a warning label,
Read the fine print:
Drink until you die!

But the angel of death has broken his wings,
Or at least to those who see him
With soma in their eyes.

Is this innocence? Who we are?
Who are we?

Johnny is quick, but too slow on his own.
I watched him grow from a flower to a weed.
Pain is his benefactor and anger his soul mate;
I never knew he smoked until he lit the match.

There is no greater irony than sinning to be free.

Polly wanted a cracker, but settled for a crumb.
She likes the taste of desertion,
But knows she’s not the only one.
Her arms are stiff when she walks in a crowd;
But diplomas don’t cure diseases,
Especially the one in her.

Swim your way
Down the drain.
Swim your way
Down the drain.

III. AN IRON FIST

They threw spit in my face
And washed it out with lies.
I begged and pleaded,
Twitched and sobbed,
But still they stood
With a smirk and a smile,

Singing,
Chanting,
Screaming,

‘We rule with an iron fist,
A shaking fist.
We’ll crush you into the earth
‘Till you come out bettered.
Climb the stairs,
Climb up the stairs,
You fool,
We’ll nail on you a scarlet letter.
You’ll skim the water like a stone
That is thrown from shore.
You fool, you fool,
Climb the rocks,
Climb up the rocks.
We rule with an iron fist.’

I’m caught in the net now,
Kicking and squirming,
Blood splashing out my eye
Like a candle in methane.
Burn to the floor.
Wash away with the water.

IV. THE PASSING OF A WINGLESS BIRD

I’m bound to isolation
On a corner I can’t turn;
It’s shown to me in glimpses
Of a passing wingless bird.

Stumbling through the streets
With no purpose or name,
Looking for a face to put on my suffering.
Playing connect the dots with the stars,
Tracing my way back home.
Sirens pass on the road, but leave me for dead;
The carriages of death have bigger fish to fry
In the sea of failures.

A watery grave
To rot away
Insanity.

In the fog of a nightmare
I walked through a field,
Counting the rows of dying rye
And wishing they were real.
In a patch where nothing grew,
A gun lay gently in the soil.
I sat with it a while
Between guilt and guile,
Until a wave of wind rippled over
And brushed against the trigger.

Silence.

V. FOURTH STREET

I was sifting through my attic
When I came across a boy
Worn and torn and
Looking through a mirror,
His brow dripping with rain.
I exclaimed with curiosity,
‘Why hide in this home
And not the one you came from?’

‘They treated me poorly,’
He told me with angst,
‘The people I have loved.’
And he cursed their shallow ways to shallow graves
And jumped out the window he came from.

That’s when I found the lull in your logic,
And now it’s seeing the light of day.
A spiders’ web unwoven,
Oh, how the thread unravels...

You see,
You left yourself shattered.
The fractured pieces of your mirror
Reflect the empty roads
Over which they still litter.
I saw you waiting on the corner
For time to sweep you away;
The carvings of such a lonely face,
So beautiful and pale
That God could not bear to see it unshaken.
You are the only thing missing from your life.

You’re a beast in a cage
That I’ve left wide open,
Dangling on a rope
That’s tied to my leg;
Break away, fade away,
And take my baggage with you
On your flight to melancholy.
You are no longer a piece of the puzzle.

The wine is spilling, so pass the cup.

VI. MOON’S APART

Two headlights blur into one
Before swerving away;
The drunkard nearly flattened me,
And I almost wish he would’ve.
A small wind blows through the trees
Without rippling a single leaf.
They say there’s a half of you missing
Somewhere in the sea of faces,
But I always end up drowned in the crowd.
Choking on this cold air,
Whispering to the wind
And praying it’s carried to kind ears.
We’re worlds apart, or a mile away.

Is she watching the same moon as I?

A claw through my skin,
A rustle in my ribcage.
My chest tears open
And beady eyes peek through.
Wings clothed in feathers
Pull out the small head and tail
My heart was trying to spit out.
A bird of grace;
Winged and fleeting,
Stretching to the sky,
Pasted against the view of a rising sun,
Carrying a message in its beak.
It only took two flaps
For me to move my legs
And learn how to run again.
Run,
Towards beauty to make you ache.
Through the rusted doors and shattered windows,
Over the dying fields and raging rivers.
I ran, I followed,
I sprung into the waking world
Until I was swallowed by a wave of pavement.

A watery grave
To rot away
Insanity.

Swim your way
Down the drain.
Swim your way
Down the drain.

Fri, 02 Dec 2005 01:22:05 GMT

ladies and gentlmen, i am now officially a liscensed driver. however....if i were you, i wouldn't ask a ride of me haha. not very good yet. now, im off to dinner, woo!