August 2010
9 posts
The Story I Must Tell
And when all the world has been slain upon its blood drenched stage, I pray that I am the voice to stand and deliver its tale unto the captive audience. For he hath commanded me:
And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain, To tell my story.
Unto the world, in the end I shall say in agony: Now cracks a noble heart. Good night sweet prince: And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.
Stealing Air
Descend, Descending, Like the smoke of our fathers, Remember, Remembering, Like the dreams of our mothers, Hope, Just Hoping, To redeem our poor brothers, From the flames, From the flames. A wish crept down the well, And found me lying there, With a widow and a black leaf, and a locket of hair, I stole, I stole, The last fleeting passions, The last of the darlings, The last of the air.
Tired
I’m just tired you know?
Tired of lies.
Mine and all of theirs.
I’m tired of painting,
Again and again and again and again.
I’m tired of seeing right through peoples bullshit and not doing anything about it.
Why is this all just a game?
This is all just one big carnival.
Another play on words.
Another skillful deception.
Another carefully sewn curtain.
For what cause?
To...
Saturday Feels Like Rain
(Verse1) I can feel the thunder coming, It’s flooding in the streets, I can hear the voices saying, How perfect you were to me, Suddenly I’m drowning, By the quietest candle light, A vision or a memory, I can’t really tell you why,
(Chorus1)
Saturday feels like rain, Oh, Saturday feels like rain, I’m spotting all the distances, I’m taking all the names, Of the...
Weighing Want
I wanted an ice cream cone when I was six, at least I think I did? Or maybe it was a cow? No. That’s not right. Six year old boys don’t want cows. It was probably an ice cream cone. That’s what kids are supposed to want. Right? This is America. Of course it was an ice cream cone. No kid is supposed to want a cow, or a duck, or a fence post, or a gun. Just ice cream. I think I...
Ciao
I put my keys on a desk that was no longer there tonight. Perhaps the strangest shit I’ve ever experienced. I walked down a dark hall and couldn’t see the familiar paintings anymore. The garage refrigerator is gone. It’s starting to hit me.
I’m done here. This house is over. These four walls I’ve written my pains upon time and time again are collapsing. The ceiling...
Post Hoc, Ergo Insane
Perhaps drowning isn’t how I was to live, Perhaps I have no idea what living is,
Tonight I’m very sure, I don’t know how to live.
The Archer and His Arrow
I’ve stood at the gates for months now, Firing arrow, upon arrow, upon arrow from my bow, Hoping for a token to be returned over the mighty wall, A scarf, a shred of her dress, a locket, or even a blade of grass which held the last glimpses of her breath. I would have taken any affirmation, I would have taken any momento. Yet I still stand here. My quiver dry and my arms aching. I have...
The Shakes pt. 1
”It’s as though I’m unable to breathe,” she said waving at her chest “Yet I can feel the air filling my lungs.” The contradiction puzzled the balding, middle aged doctor. A few scribbles on his neatly lined patient notes were the silent release of these feelings. “Does it keep you up at night?” he asked in his most doctorly tone. “Well, yes,...
