Archive for August 2008
Fore
I’m not up to date runaway.
I don’t know the lingo runaway.
I was too innocent runaway.
Further distanced we become runaway.
And it can’t be chance that it has slowed down like the other side of a climax.
Only breaths are heard.
Deep Exhales.
Photo album show me your surprise.
My face reflected in the screen or the plastic cover.
Did it really happen runaway?
One of the coveted you were and are runaway.
Spiced up life now.
Bed wish?
Under our blankets we lived.
But I don’t believe you.
I forget what you sound like,
How we ever got along.
90 in the Summer, 85 in the Winter, But it’s one of the coldest places around.
As the days add up they begin to build a calendar.
It feels like it was years ago.
A long time ago this all took place.
It’s because I’m angry.
I’m still bitter
Because I didn’t do any of the things they accuse me of.
The laundry list of shame.
Oh, how have I changed?
I am no traitor.
You believe me don’t you?
Right judge?
You know I never did anything wrong.
Well, there is probably something defeating in my eye.
An iris of deceit.
A stare full of lies
But the lies are not mine.
What to do?!
There’s a gloom outside
But not the kind I like.
And I’m standing right under as the clouds softly exhale the mist.
I am lightly showered with betrayal.
I better go inside and put on a jacket.
No Call and You’re Back To Where You Were
I was standing on the balcony of the last floor of this 100 story high rise.
Drink in one hand, cigarette in the other.
Our eyes were gleaming at the vision in front of us.
The town below us.
The distance, almost endless.
You could see for miles.
We were at a party for one of the locals.
Mingling with others.
I was discussing with a friend about how my beer must have been the best tasting beer I had ever had.
He looked at me and laughed.
“It’s pretty good, I must admit,” he responded.
And suddenly, I was bumped into from behind.
My slightly numb hands released the bottle into a freefall over the railing.
We looked as the bottle, holding the great beer, begin a trip of sure catastrophe.
As it sunk the seconds passed along like minutes while the bottle flipped and spilled.
It was helpless and we were only worried for the people below.
We looked up and took one last glance over the horizon,
We stared once more into each others faces.
We looked down when my precious glass bottle,
Premature of a finished drink,
Shattered into a million pieces onto the concrete pavement below.
No one was hurt.
It was all alone.
Brilliance In A Small World
Here we go.
3 AM nights for the race.
Heart.
I better not get too far ahead here.
Any worry though?
Is there?
Nothing has been warranted yet.
The silence stays still.
Continuous in its motion.
But here comes the brilliance.
A step up.
Just a calming route.
Could you ever know?
That this sound could feature life.
As the night Christmas drive continues we are living in beauty.
You see those lights in the background?
Gorgeous.
When nothing matters.
You can forget the rest but you can see why.
Brilliance. Smile. Gorgeous.
Flood and Fly but Never Float
What chaos unforeseen in death.
Extra thoughts.
A change in life.
A change in the way we live life.
Lost.
It’s lost.
Yells and arguments.
Solidarity.
All of your fault.
More wanted.
Better off with?
I walk along this canal.
Faded water blue.
It all floats on.
Out.
You float out.
Like a feather.
Or a butterfly.
Until you cannot see the balloon anymore.
I hear they come back down though.
Yeah, I heard that once.
Wonder if it’s true.
You could float on and on.
Spring Circus
So every Thursday we rode our buses to unforeseen places.
If we didn’t go last year then we would see it this year.
Remember the bare feet running atop the grass?
Cold and a little scared we were a family.
With CD players linked to our ears we all sang the same songs together for entertainment.
Like vandals we did what we liked.
Oh, how we survived under the grey clouds and skies.
It was all ok.
We were all ok.
In places of teaching we succeeded.
The Wreckage
Up ahead.
The blaring lights and sounds.
There must be an accident.
Surely.
As speeders put weight on their brakes
As warned by apple red lights
The glimmer of hope arises within them.
Exit to the right.
Exit to the right.
We continue on somehow.
Through the creeping cars full of creeps themselves.
Surely with all this traffic and emergency something horrifying must have happened.
Merge.
Merge!
Merge our sick minds along together!
Pass the scene. Pass the scene!
You are free to move on! But you don’t.
To the left your head is turned.
Your right foot slowly teasing your right pedal.
Blues and Reds dancing brightly with angst.
And oh how you love it!
The wreckage.
Creep on by it.
Creep.
Bright
Oh, Moon.
I can see you looking down on me
Behind those moving clouds,
That summer breeze.
The nights are getting colder,
The talks more intelligent.
The nights are getting quieter.
The crickets louder.
The antenna tower above the mountain is smothered by mist and fog.
Such moisture resting in the air.
The lights atop the mountain appear like fireflies.
Oh, dear Moon.
I think it smells of Autumn tonight.
360-5.mph
Where am I trying to go?
Where’s the fire?
What’s the rush?
Such impatience has not shown face since the autumn of the year before ours.
My windows are down.
The wind blows through out this machine with the force of a hurricane.
And my plastic indicator feels ready to spin all the way around but something is in its way.
We are all limited.
Right?
But all is well.
This beach front street and the desert canyon road both smell the same. Cold and aided.
Isn’t it funny how we can all live in the desert,
A hill away from an ocean,
yet never find the oasis?
Oh, but we have slowed down.
It was more like water splashed in your face.
And yes, even in our valleys, we are able to witness such discolor.
How foul.
But outside these morose walls live expectations that can be met.
You can see the hue peak just above the peak.
The breath of the city is cold but aided.
The city lights glowing on our ocean and under this city sky.
I toyed with them just to see what they’d do.
The failed to police themselves.
But I can smile.
I may not become overwhelmed.
I must police myself.
And I love to see so much through this stained glass window.
More than I can ever see through yours.
Oh, lord! I must become!
More than you.
And you will never know what I feel tonight.
No Matter
Sharing a hill with mansions and castles alike
I was stuck in the shade literally near the bottom.
Sharing a hill with the balance of power
we lived quietly among them in a pool of seemingly less importance.
And though only a few blocks away stood houses with pools, life seemed so different to the kid with the home upstairs.
You had your backyard and I had the parks.
You had the front yard and I had my driveway,
Cemented next to the 4 car garage of which we owned one spot.
Temporary.
Waste.
Ownerless.
One could say the patriarch failed us for lack of being special.
Man, a carpenter.
Woman, office.
Mediocrity.
I beg to differ their level of special.
And I never knew what it was like to fall into slumber in a room alone,
Decorated in style, a T.V. with my name on it.
I lacked the presence of man’s best friend
Or the freedom of a high numbered decibel.
Yet different I felt.
And I suppose understandably so.
But lucky I was and am
Of the apartment in the sky
Of which laundry was washed in the same machine as strangers.
Or people on the same path.
It’s all just the cherry on top of feeling so much different
Than the girl in the house next door.
Oh, Mother! Father!
Never once did you fail
At stockpiling the dinner table and blanketing my naked body.
Your beautiful souls may never know the utter joy brought by a never-ending “Yes”
And a loved heart and open mind to succeed with.