Record Store Day

This sunset would look better
If you weren’t spoken for
But I don’t make the rules
At least not anymore

Take me out before I get old
Give me something to dream about
Let the ocean swallow me whole
Swallow me whole, heart and all

Sunday six am is dreadful
Lonely streets and lonely people

Diatribe

religion is
practiced hatred
practiced ignorance
worship blood and money
in suits
worship myths with
inane attributes
a last refuge
of a failure
a distraction
from the self
i may not know who i am
but i know where i stand
and i swear i’ll never kneel again

“Spirituality: the last refuge of a failed human
Just another way of distracting yourself
from who you really are.” -GC

Disgust

disgust is all i feel
for what is considered real
my values are just that
my own
i deny perfection
nothing is flawless
the spaces between
the wood painted white
off center like me
and everyone
that isn’t like everyone else

SSP

When I dream I realize how little I have
And yet I have so much
I’ve traveled the world
But still long for the touch of love
Because I’ve never felt close to someone
That hasn’t let me down
All of my pursuits lead me into deep water
To drown
I expect nothing but nothing
And I won’t be caught sobbing
Because I shut the blinds
And I lock the doors
No one wants to witness a sole sulking party
So leave me alone
I don’t want company
Unless you’re as desperate as me honey

Suddle Annoyances

there is a watch that beeps inside of my room
it has been in here since as long as i can remember
it beeps every few hours
whenever i least expect

like a few minutes ago
when i sat down and tried to write a poem
about love or depression or whatever i was feeling at the time
but now my mind is focused on the watch
it beeps with confidence
as if it expects a response

i have tried to find this watch
but it does not want to be found
i don’t want to find it
though it can be bothersome
sometimes

i often welcome its electronic greeting
like an old friend
after all
we have known each other for years
longer than most humans stay in touch

i wonder how it keeps its charge
after running for so long
eventually everything dies
even batteries

The Most Comfortable of Silences

The most comfortable of silences
with the most deadly of persons
Hurricanes and snakes have nothing
on this one
For Years I've tried to wrap my
arms around the body of a stubborn lady
but only manage to strangle my organs
and fill notebooks with what if's and maybes
as My composure slowly worsens

Yarn Dreams

The world is made of string.
We walk down string streets.
We swim where string creeps up onto string beach.
We meet underneath string skies
and kiss beneath string lights.
Our Father's, our Mother's
are string just like the others.
Some live in string homes.
Some live in string gutters.
Some live to weave an infinite world of string livers.
But I, I am a pair of scissors.