Voices that touch the StarsIn the dreamsMore Like This
during waking hours
their songs echo
they will not be
Scent of a Dreaming MindcarryMore Like This
of silk in
Beauty of Summer Daysend of another seasonMore Like This
time well spent
looking after little kids
on sunny days
watching the lives of frogs
snapping the lives
of little mice
partial to jaffa cake
by digicam in hand
saved for memories
in future years
When we Close our EyesthoughMore Like This
may be mundane
of the promised dreams
that we see
when we close our eyes
and go to sleep
within our lives
powered pot of paint
the colourful flutter
birds in flight
Cocoa WavesCocoa WavesMore Like This
“No makeup, disheveled hair, and her beautiful orbs sleepily looking back at me,
And this is when she’s most beautiful; when she’s in her most natural state”
Now, more than ever before these lines hold true as a smile plays on your lips so sweetly,
Oh how I long to run my fingers through your cocoa waves.
Someday (for women who love too much)More Like This
She puts her heart
into people she loves
and she loves
more than she could
even the sun does not
want to rise and winds
deny to move
she forgets to breathe
of hurt and disappointment
even the bee does not
want to kiss his regular flower
and the morning bud
will chose not to bloom
she sniffs an old rose
from her closet
contouring her faith
the bird will not return
to its nest and the ones
waiting for him
will wait forever
she would have given it all
that she had with her
and all that she could ever have
the sand will freeze in dunes
of hunger and a thirsty cloud
will hover the desert endlessly
the ones she called her home
the ones she believed in
the ones she loved
will never be loved again
even if they want it
even when she wants it too
My GrandmotherMy Grandmother (Angelic Catalyst)More Like This
The heaven sent,
The beautiful, the optimistic, the angelic,
This is my grandmother, my Grandbomb,
And she absolutely lives up to this humorous alias,
Simple EnoughSimple EnoughMore Like This
Love isn’t what I had imagined it to be,
It’s unexpected, it’s confusing,
But it’s a truly magnificent feeling.
And to be completely candid with you,
Right now, I have no idea what to do,
Or where this will take us,
But I’m going to love you,
No matter what.
And at least, that very fact is simple enough.
Moonlit NocturneThere was blood on my hands when I played the piano for you that day.More Like This
It was the same street piano on the corner of the park that we used to play in, outracing the butterflies that gathered around the roses that grew there. We used to pretend we could fly like them, dancing from petal to petal, free from the world's cruelties. So happy. So naive.
A skid of a wheel had changed all that.
That day, your butterfly wings had been torn out of their sockets. They joined a long list that had been stuffed into jars over the centuries, to be ogled over by Death, the sadistic collector who never failed when it was our turn to submit. You were captured too early, too soon, but there was nothing I could do. I was on the piano, playing your nocturne, when you crossed the busy road. Blood sprayed, horns screamed and I turned to see you flung over a windscreen, unmoving.
There was a funeral, of course. There were tears, but none slid down my face that day.
I saved it for the piano.
You should have see
No AtlantisBeneath the mossy bones of the ocean deepMore Like This
Great spires of stone stretch their fingers high
While weaving angels wrap each rocky keep
And strands of strangling seaweed scratch the sky.
Descending deeper in the waiting dark,
Where sea-bound corpses hold a hollowed hall
And gnashing teeth trace their bloody mark,
The rotting planks of piracy that fall.
What mortal man whose breath could sway this land?
What lung could draw in words to speak its part?
The cruel soul of the sea won't spare his hand
To those who've earned his wrath with silent start.
Can souls find sleep in such a strangled thrall,
Where the waves find rest and stop their ceaseless crawl?
Where the waves find rest and stop their ceaseless crawl,
Raking salty claws in sandy shores,
A vain and panicked grasp before they fall;
The home of homespun hypocrites and whores.
The moon reflects in heartless pantomime
A silver orb of glowing innocence
That mocks them as they're punished
The Misty MountainA swordsmen, dressed in his once stunning black kimono, was now tattered and blood stained. He looked up at the mist covered mountains before him. Sadness fell over him. He shifted the pack draped over his back and walked on.More Like This
Mist began to gently swirl down over the cracked peeks of the mountain and eventually fell into deep black chasms that laid deep below the swordsmen’s feet.
Drops of warm water dripped from the deep green leaves of tall dark trees. They stood high above him, ignoring his presence as if he was just an ant crawling over the decayed leaves. As the swordsmen wandered through mountain, he followed a long forgotten path lined with aging stones and rotting bamboo. Small mice scampered about ahead of him, hiding among the leaf litter when he became too close. The swordsmen stepped onto one of the many broken flat rocks and slipped on the wet moss that covered it. He fell onto his side, cringing at the pain that crawled it’s way up his body.
The swordsmen sat u
Phantoms Of Another UniverseLook.More Like This
I'll tell it like it was.
Static clung to the air
like ornaments on a Christmas tree
and we were graced with the odd arced lightning.
Oh, it was cold.
I remember not seeing,
my fingers frozen off as
feeling receded from them
like waves on a beach.
how could I even be sure
the forgotten memory of a sunset
lay imprinted on my brain,
and its absence made the night
emptier than ever.
we waited for the moon to rise,
for the clouds to shift,
for the e-lec-tri-ci-ty to stop
(like lost travelers stumbling
in the desert waiting for an
oasis mirage to shatter their
we waited, questioning our existence,
questioning this formation of
questioning the light that remained
(like questioning "how in the world did
I lose that!" and it turns out you hadn't
you'd been waving it, flailing it, even,
(incredulously) in your hand)
and one year later,
one eternity l
It hurtIt hurt you know,More Like This
Falling for you.
I felt very bump and bang,
Every bruise and break.
I tried to hold on,
I tried to slow down,
I tried to stop.
But it was inevitable.
Gravity was too much,
It kept pulling me down
And when I landed,
When I hit the ground
At your feet
I could barely breathe.
It was too much
For anyone to handle
Let alone me.
But I watched you reach down,
And felt you pick me up.
You gathered together
All my broken pieces
And worked for days
Making me whole again.
It took time
But I finally realised
That for me to fall down to you
Meant that you
Had fallen too.
So once I was rebuilt
I searched for your missing pieces.
I found your hand
That made strings
I found your lungs,
Which turned air
Into a caress.
And I found your eyes,
Their blue oceans
But I couldn't find your heart.
Not straight away.
And I'm still looking,
But I can't see you anymore.
Because I know
That I am getting closer to your heart.
But it makes me wond
She buys a magic perfume fromMore Like This
She buys a magic perfume from a witch at a fairy market. There is a love spell on the perfume; she expects men to fall in love with her.
What she does not expect is that the perfume will take her to the most enchanted places where she will find more about love than what she can possibly imagine...
In My DreamsI met her in my dreams.More Like This
She tells me she’s lonely, I told her I’m similar.
I tell her everything; she whispers back
“It’s okay. I’m here, you’re alive. You’re breathing.”
She’s the reason I picked up all the pens I did.
The reason I don’t want to sleep most days anymore.
My tears fall every time someone sells her out.
I hate that people use her for the fame & the wealth.
And act like she would give herself up for free.
And act like she would give herself up for free.
My text says “I need you more than ever.”
But wait a minute.
What am I thinking?
Why did I send that?
I’m not ready for that.
Not ready to commit.
‘Cause I’d be really bad at it.
‘Cause I’m only thinking about me.
I’m only thinking about me.
The more honest I get, the weirder you get.
And I’m fine with that.
The more honest I get, the more they hate you.
Are you fine with that?
Friends ask all the time,
Crimson Triforce (A Zelda/Slayers Crossover) Ch. 1Another day began in the Red Universe, and it was, as would be expected, just like any normal day in the realm. Or perhaps the right word would be "typical," as no day in Ruby Eye was ever truly "normal." Especially not for the ever-active and trouble-making Lina Inverse and her motley crew of friends.More Like This
In this strange but close-knit group were her self-proclaimed "bodyguard," Gourry Gabriev; the bubbly, spunky, and very righteous Amelia, princess of the kingdom of Seyruun; Zelgadis Greywords, a very sullen man who provided skepticism and wit to the group, among other services; and, on occasion, a very secretive and strange mazoku by the name of Xellos, whom, while being rather useful at times, was quite a bother just as often, if not moreso.
"So where shall we go next," Amelia asked as they walked along, an eager smile on her face. "Any ideas, Ms. Lina?"
"Not really," Lina responded absently, glancing around them as if looking for something. "I guess we'll just wander until we come acr
Siren's CallingMore Like This
The chilly air had drifted through the cracks of the girl’s blanket long ago, urging her to cling to her older sister for warmth. Expecting the usual tickle on her nose from burying her face in her sister’s locks but the girl realized that the spot next to her was empty. Reluctantly she peeked her head out of the covers to see that her sister was already up. Brushing her long yellow hair the older girl hummed a greeting as she noticed the added face reflecting off the mirror.
“You’re up early,” the younger girl noted, wrapping the fur blanket around her shoulders.
“I want to look nice today,” the blond hummed staring dreamingly at her reflection. The girl was actually quite lovely and had more than a few admirers.
“You know that most of the guys who are coming are old men, right?” the younger girl grinned as her sister shot her a glare.
“You may find someone nice,” the blond replied stiffly, brushing her hair a bit more
Old BooksMore Like This
Old books are like portals to the past
They've shown how the world has been to them and how they've been treated
Some well some bad
Some old books tell us History
Some old books tell us fictional stories
Some old books tell us they're life story
Yes old books may be worn out
Yes some old books may be ripped or tiered
Some may be to fragile to read
But everyone old book as a different story to tell
Romeo and Juliet's Tragedy Romeo and Juliet's TragedyMore Like This
Two families both of blood colored blue,
so spiteful towards each that they ripped
their own apart and away.
All in effect of a bitter, long feud that was
not realized bad until the ground weeped red.
Sweet roses just in season's bloom,
too young to look to the end,
yet nipped so before their petals could
shine their bright colors of awe.
The skies did moan and sigh,
the stars did lose their twinkle and shine,
when they saw the fair Montague named Romeo
crying his love-hated tears.
Juliet of his enemy's house,
youthful and well-appeared,
not yet knowing of Cupid and his arrows.
Romeo did see she and was love at first sight,
beauty compared not to her.
Sweet kisses of two sealing their fate.
A wedding hidden in the lowest shadows,
a night that ended in heartache,
That a bride and her groom could not even love peacefully.
Try did Juliet to come to her lover,
even when falsely claiming Death,
to only find sorrow waiting for her.
The bridegroom, for belie
it heals in the end (audio)More Like This
(audio: http://vocaroo.com/i/s0GHcS6ONhwc )
how do you mend yourself when you are broken
how do you put yourself back to what you were
do you lose the pieces of you scattered everywhere
or do you want to collect every fallen marble
I see the mirror of me drowning into silent waters
in circles of ripples wanting to run as far
I know it is not me but the mirror itself buried under
my own illusion of a distant world torn apart
if I sit next to soggy banks of a flooded river
I would only let my own self get washed away
against unknown winds no stranger will ever know
of a heart that flowered a little garden in the rain
I'd rather light a bonfire from shadows of dark woods
to recall love thousand times until the warmth sways
my soul learns to release those chills of a cold night
and all that was once broken will be healed again
What Dreams May ComeMore Like This
As I lay me down to sleep I dream of tales untold.
Lovers who can drive me wild and some who leave me cold.
Bitter dreams of bitter things and sometimes streets of gold.
Dreams of timid angels and of some who herald bold.
Flying high o'er barren lands and seas of aqua hue.
I relish sights unseen and cherish every hidden view.
Earth relinquished planet Janus now is born anew.
Wondering if truths held dear were ever really true.
Heaven's carriage with no riders sailing toward the moon.
Wishing wells and private hells and Macy's day balloons.
Under water still can breathe a miracle lagoon.
Living happy dancing slowly singing lovesick tunes.
As I lay me down to sleep I dream of tales untold.
Some are newly painted and some dreams are really old.
Never given thought to meanings as these do unfold.
Waking hours living life have kept my dreams on hold.
Sticks and StonesSticks and stones will break my bonesMore Like This
But that doesn't matter
Words however can hurt me
More than a stick or stone ever could
They go through our bodies
Through any type of armor
Pierce our soul
And shatter it like glass
Then there is nothing inside your body
Where you really stood
Lily pale in summeri.More Like This
I met a boy who looked like winter,
whose snowflake eyes dreamt of eternal tundra
but he melted when I came close
and left me
There was a girl dressed in bluebells
who led you blindfolded and stumbling into summer
but you were still lily pale enough to
burn easy and
We met in the winds of October
spun around but heading forward with arms outstretched
like a toddler trying to stay upright
walking into an
Skin like ParchmentSkin like ParchmentMore Like This
One black night I walk upon the road.
The moonlight illuminates a man,
tall and thin.
His skin is cracked and brown,
Like aged vellum.
Words and names are wrote upon his skin,
Glistening in purple darkness.
Face empty like unmarked paper.
A hand raises,
Fingers long like needles
Dripping with ink
Point to me.
I only stand as he approaches.
Stare at a space on his weathered body,
A space big enough for my name.
The girl in the pondIt was a warm summer night when I found her.More Like This
Her dress was white with yellow sunflowers,
and her auburn hair was spread out around her pale face.
It looked like an ever changing halo
moving gently in a soft breeze.
She had lost a shoe
Her deep, blue eyes stared into heaven
and the freckles of her skin drew constellations
against the pale background to mirror the stars above.
Fish gently nibbled at her fingers and nestled in her hair
paying no heed to her ruby lips which her last breath had left open
almost like an invitation.
I looked at her
I loved her...
Thinking it was the least I could do
now that she had been so carelessly abandoned.
It was my duty to remember her.
I took the memory of her and stuffed it away
for safe keeping
The rest was just a shell
now empty and soon decayed.
Then I left
leaving only the pond behind to swallow its secrets.
Caffeinated JellyfishI'd trade my sweetened teaMore Like This
for your stingray beliefs
but i know that even broken teacups
couldn't fill the cracks between your teeth;
the holes in your bones from all your
haphazard hopes and
i can't fill the void
of a rotten soul
that's been dipped
in too many ice cream cones.
and now, i am a
my hopes are propellers.
i soar through starshine
with sea-stained wings.
i am dangerous.
i am a caffeinated jellyfish;
i've learned that hope only stings.
ThornsMaybe it's justMore Like This
A misinterpretation of beings
Twisting about my bones.
I've never cared for candlelight.
I prefer ferocity,
Electric eels hanging from the stars.
Is not an option.
Night is my new hometown,
And from deep within its belly
I hear the song of morning birds:
You make it out
We forget that the roses
Dappling our collarbones
Have weapons of their own
There are small things
With steel teeth
And solid bones.
Do not pity me.
ModulationWhen I drive I sprout wingsMore Like This
and I turn into something powerful
something that knows where it's going
and all the shortcuts to get there
and I feel grown.
When I was little I used to be proud
of how much I could splash
with my legs.
I felt powerful when I pushed off the walls of the pool
and I cut through the water
like a bullet
or a train.
It's funny how much I wish I loved it
because I drowned once
and I can't breathe underwater
and I wonder if that counts as PTSD.
Sometimes I lose myself in how comfortable this feels
and how much I've seen
and how much I still don't know
and how everything I write turns into a list
of why I can't love you anymore.
Today I jumped off a building
I slipped on the ice
I went to a party where
the music doesn't play
and I still danced like crazy
and I feel grown.
In star-crossed balanceand I will learnMore Like This
how to sew these skies together
when the constellations
like a monsoon.
pillars of bones
and the quakes of every heartache
rests in the space
between my lungs
and my ribcage-
a home built to shelter
the song of the ocean
and the sweet silence of clouds
drifting above my irises,
against the downpour of waterforms
colliding in my veins.
nothing but the softness of dreams
and the heaviness of air]
I am a star-crossed lover;
a body who nurtures the mind
and the soul-
misers in a variety of matrimony
with this forsaken archipelago
whose plates have long ago been
separated by their unequal forces
then the climax
came in slow motion
in vigorous verses.
the beginning of the end,
flowers blooming from bone marrows
and the sounds
of heavy breathing
pour out into the open
scattered like debris,
the discontinuity of souls
in my palms
but only the m
nakedness and heavy lungsand now, I’m defined by theMore Like This
confines of my body, the faults
I carry like misdemeanors against
the ones who translate me in
lines and curves and scars that read
look, but don’t touch. now, I’m
busy catching up in revolutions
around the sun and laps within
the indignity of my own mind;
swallowing travesties and memories alike—
the sun in your voice, brightening
me inside as I wake up and breathe
like an eclipsing star, my bones clanking
together like wind-chimes, my legs
giving out like ghost people
who’ve given up. this is beautiful, this
stripping of layers upon layers
of reality and pretending
I’m not ashamed to stand naked and
quivering before those who judge me
in impersonal numbers and figures
as though I were irrelevant, that I’m not
holding my breath in hopes I will
float away like a balloon, beyond
human comprehension, light and fading
like the handwritten notes and promises
scrawled across every inch of me,
just so I could be forgotten
this won't end up as a suicide notethere aren’t enough momentsMore Like This
to love you, or words
in the English language to call you
beautiful. there aren’t enough
heartbeats in me to dedicate you
something you might deserve.
you can no longer lie.
a vengeful earthquake births itself inside
your unkind frame-- bones and skin and
muscle knotted together as an attempt
at something durable; but when you scream,
you don’t wake up. your world
collapses in mounting seconds. words
are a currency and you are
finally rich. you have lived
in the mouths of ghosts for so long
that you can walk through walls;
you aren’t here, you’re choking
on other planets from a lack of oxygen
and understanding. but I will love you,
I will love you; dear wallflower,
your petals are not wilted. dear
anonymous, I could give you a name.
dear hopeless, there are not enough words
in the English language for how beautiful
you really are.
a meaningful poem about nothing.this is a poem about how fixing peopleMore Like This
is not romantic.
we’re not meant to be somebody’s answer,
we’re not meant to make someone feel alive again.
this is a poem about why you shouldn’t kiss him
because he’s broken
because you want to save him.
save yourself first.
kiss him because he holds a place in your heart, not
because he's the only thing making it pump.
kiss him because he’s in your life, not because
he is your life.
hold him, but don’t hold onto him because you believe
(get to dry land first.)
this is a poem about how i find poetry in everything.
breakups. my dad telling me i mattered.
nightmares. my neighbor’s insomnia.
how it drove him crazy.
how he swallowed a bottle of sleeping pills to fix it.
my neighbor’s funeral.
this is a poem about the split-apart theory.
the idea was that when humanity became arrogant
toward the gods, we were split in two
and were doomed to spend our live
War Hums AND SO I smashed the antique vanity mirror todayMore Like This
you know, the one I received on our wedding day
(passing by that thing always gave me the chills)
I used my knuckles for the first hard blow,
followed by my claws for more blood to flow
(the sting was just beautifully excruciating)
I tore off each shard patiently from my skin,
I sobbed with my eyes but my mouth kept a grin
(like the band-aids I should have been searching for)
I made my own war paint mixed in with my sweat
and like a red Indian warrior without any regret,
DoubtI know that sinking feeling,More Like This
as I've been here all before.
I've sat in every empty room,
I've walked this cold, hard floor.
What is it I've forgotten?
I had it moments ago, but where?
I see something in a cracked mirror,
I turn, but nothing's there.
I am drowning in the grey fog,
I find this quite distressing.
I cannot see through confusion's shroud,
that is made from second guessing.
Down this spiral staircase I fall,
there is a black hole at the end.
I'm trapped inside it, my mind in ruins,
I cannot see what I could mend.
At first I was so self assured,
then something snapped and the light went out.
I cannot see anything any more,
my ship is sinking in a sea of doubt.
This is what you call composing,This is what you call composing,More Like This
tempo set in silicon
and temple raised in the smirks
set alight by words sprinting
across the document,
Imagination's muddy footprints
over snowy snowy reality.
Merry ChristmasMy heart was filled with jollyMore Like This
And my hands were getting antsy
So here's a little poem
Something nice but not too fancy
It's that time of year
And I know it's a cliche
But here's a silly free verse
About this happy holiday
Kids will fill with joy
As they see the gifts under their tree
So first they give some milk and cookies
For Santa clause to eat
They stay up with anticipation
And try not to sleep
In order to see old Santa clause
Who comes in without a peep
And when their eyes tire
They let them rest for a short while
And those minutes turn to hours
As their presents start to pile
They wake up with a startle
As they find themselves in their bed
They realize their parents tucked them in
With a pillow below their head
But then they rush to see the tree
And all the gifts that they received
Though some think there's no Santa
They were proud that they believed
So to conclude this story
I'll offer a simple cheer
As I wish you a merry Christmas
And a happy new year
Parting is such sweet sorrow...More Like This
a winter chill is in the air
a reminder of the day you left me
that day still haunts my brain
like a nightmare that never ends
we were so good together...
I have made my peace with the world
yet I live an illusion, an unreality
I go to my job five days a week
I go through the motions of life
we were so real together...
why? why? I have asked myself that
question a thousand times! was I
too eager? was I too poor? was I
not good enough? I ask because
we were so much in love with each other..
bluish skies and mud-baked pies
rhododendrons in bloom
summer thrills and winter chills
darkened clouds bringing gloom
I followed you one day... shhh it's alright
I just needed to know you were okay
I am not a stalker, no, just a fool
I'm needing you still - do you miss me?
we were always together...
okay, okay, I get it! I will leave
and never come back, no never...
my heart aches, my soul is dying
I cannot imagine my life without you
we were so happy toget
UnafraidIt is the feeling for which we all have prayed.More Like This
We know it could be simple but it is always not.
Who would not want to be strong and unafraid?
What makes us sometimes scared a lot?
When we were happy children we just played.
Afraid? When we were young kids we were not!
What gives this world its heavy weight?
Where have we lost our carefree spot?
Is there one moment when our lives fade
into scary darkness with terrible thought?
Why can't we hide in a soothing shade?
Protected softly, we could our lives sort.
the moon cannot see usthe moon cannot see us,More Like This
blindly lulling the waters to sleep
with her old hands,
like some marvelous god
& the earth sways—
gracefully turning everything to dust
—; the synapses of the universe,
alive with creation & the memories
of countless lost civilizations
& everything is ashes
but your hand is warm
we are submerged in life
the inferno of you in my hands
—is something beautiful
New worldLet us fly. Let us live.More Like This
Don´t sell our wings and don´t sell our souls.
Keep the world free for us. Until it is our time for
to fly away, to discover the world, you bequeath
the future. Let us be free, because birds are
wild, they fly, live. Ghosts of the past times,
don´t hunt them. They are fragile. When
the wind comes to lift them, they´ll
grow. Storm is gathering. But
they´ll be free, to where it
carries them. They´ll
leave into a new
Growing upMore Like This
The most painful part
of growing up is
simply watching everyone
around you grow and
Dumb, Fat and UglyWhen I was a young boy Asperger's did its trickMore Like This
They thought I was smart when I was really sick
Tried to be a scientist while the kids played ball
Called it archeology when what I really did was fall
Add bullying and violence and there go the screws
You can't see it on the skin but you can hear the bruise
When my words gets slowed and sped, chopped and screwed
Sounds like the music from America's southern hoods
Got nowhere to go and no one to be with
So I'll play video games while brushing my teeth
One eye on the villain, another on the time that goes by
All of the brain thinking about cool ways to die
I heard my first rock song and somebody explains
Everything written on the idea train
My emotions are defined, my ideas are clear
Some sort of combination of hate and anger and fear
I loved my first girl and since then I'm trippy
I was on top of the world just because she could see me
I'm not sure if this is the exact definition of reject
But no girl ever agreed to go a single night out
Wings Of IceMore Like This
Wings of Ice
Another layer of frost maims
I'll become one with this eternal winter
A triumph over the the flow of time is mine to claim
My past and future will be torn asunder
And I will freeze the pain in my veins
Never again will I be forced to surrender
Shatter all that destroyed me
Blot out society's cruel morality
I am but a mirror
A reflection of your sins
I am the terror
Let my revenge begin
I'll show you the face
That you made me create
I'll enjoy your screams
Knowing they're not a dream
Your tears will become icicles
Because to let you cry is hypocritical
You are the corruption that fell from grace
All of you don't even deserve these snowy graves
You are all too heartless
Always hurting those around you
Now accept the consequences
For the damages you cannot undo
Another storm ripped through
None have survived
The vortex of truth
An end to the strife
Your silence was self-induced
This frozen sanctuary is now all mine
Lay down my f
Music is my everythingMore Like This
Music is my everything
Music is my soul, my life
I listen intently, feeling
as calm as the oceans surface
Music is my friends, My family
its my lullaby, our loving song
I will die saving those people
who I regaurd close to in my life
Music saves me, never lets me go
I sing along, to unknown words
Bu the makes me feel real
Im not a dream, like a person
Music saves my soul, my life,
I live for my friends, my family,
they are my everything,
they are my life, my soul,
my headphoneless music,
I will protect them
with my own life.
Music is the soul,
I will listen intently,
singing along to unknown words
You Could Kiss MeI’ve been trying to be patient,More Like This
But you know I am a mess,
I am falling into pieces
And it’s not too hard to guess,
If you’re looking for someone
To keep you warm at night,
You could hold me by your side,
And I swear it’d be all right
If you said forget it in the morning,
I’d nod and give a smile,
Glad for the chance not to be alone
For at least a little while.
If you get the urge to pull me close,
You don’t need to miss me.
I’m expecting nothing from you,
But you could always kiss me.
I’ve been trying to be patient,
But you know I am a mess,
I am falling into pieces,
From these feelings I suppress.
I’m avoiding all things awkward,
While wanting something more,
Scared to make a move forward,
While wanting to explore.
So if you’re looking for someone
To keep you warm at night,
You could hold me by your side,
And it wouldn’t change a mite.
You can forget it in the morning,
Blame it on being tipsy,
While I’m trying to
UntitledI feel dead,More Like This
Can I die now?
Let me fall,
Let me throw everything out.
Please just let me be,
Let me curl into an oblivion of dreams.
I just want everything,
To forget his name,
To hear my name,
To lie down and be calm,
I don't want to scream anymore.
poison leaves a bitter aftertasteyou're beautiful, you liar,More Like This
just like your pretty little half-truths.
and once upon a tragic time,
we loved it that way,
saccharine sweet and acidic, as the lies
burned, all the way down my throat.
i swallowed them all giddily,
like a smoker inhales his poison-
because it feels so absolutely intoxicating,
while it lasts.
i have a feeling that's why i can't sing
you tore my heart up,
and then took it with you when you left.
and you know what? that's totally
ok, because at least there's no more pain.
even the emptiness is better than that.
but when you came back,
smiling that secret smile, and with a dozen
wedding rings melted down for a necklace-
i wanted to hate you, so much.
then you asked for a second chance
and i thought it was one too many,
yes, i'll believe you again-
when the sun crashes into the frigid moon,
and the stars tumble haphazardly
out of alignment.
i'll believe in you again,
in your delusional dreams.
(you know, even i'm not that much of a masochist.)
My InsanityDo I belong anywhere?More Like This
Help me now;
What can i do but cry?
I must be insane.
Maybe I need the hospital.
I can't stand life, but I'm not going to kill myself...
I look around and see everyone around me and yet...
What's the matter with me?
I feel trapped...
But I can't run from this, not this...
Fear my faultsI live in fear..More Like This
I live in fear of losing my friends,
I live in fear of being forgotten,
I live in fear of being unnecessary,
I live in fear of being unloved,
I live in fear of hurting someone,
I live in fear of failing,
I live in fear of not being able to help,
I live in fear of being too weak,
I live in fear of unimportance,
I live in fear of being wrong,
But even scarier still...
I live in fear of being right.
emoTIONAL POETRYDwelling (title??)More Like This
Dwelling on the past
As if the future
Hearing the beat
Of the warming sound
Of the laughter that used to be heard
That now stands still
As cold as if nothing passed through
Hearing LossThis is the sound of her dreams being shatteredMore Like This
There is no hope for the things that once mattered
They take the things once held dear to the heart
and with their seduction they tear them apart
This is the voice of a person of reason
To hear any other would surely be treason
It unravels struggles for things to be clear
And wears a disguise inside someone that's dear
Here is the music of souls crying upwards
Imploring the higher to help them stand stalwards
While voices of logic collect their gold hammers
And smaller, the fallen, cry out through their stammers:
"Help us our hope and our joy and our might
"Help us fight back so we may once take flight
"Give us the strength to go on through our tears
"Paint on our masks that we'd smile at our fears
I listen and watch them yet lack their successes
All the while feeling the drain of the stresses
My mask has broken and all hope has fled
And since then my might through my skin has been bled
This is the sound of my dreams being shattered
IndifferenceWe met on a winter dayMore Like This
and quickly became friends.
Time later we were lovers.
Me and you now
in the same room:
you busy with your smartphone,
me feeling silly
with my stupid head.
We're no lovers
Why such indifference?
After all we passed through...
Why the silence between us?
I'm no more the focus
of your life.
So... you have to throw me away like this?
Like nothing happened before?
I feel being nothing:
no soul, no heart
invisible to your eyes.
Don't blame for all this!
You should know how I feel...
Because as usual
things will get better...
For now the best thing to do is
remove all the memories,
delete all like nothing happened
and here we are...
you on your road,
me on my own.
in a different time,
in a different place
we could talk and clarify...
many nightsSometimesMore Like This
I imagine that I am sat there
behind a dusty old typewriter,
that, on the bottom and in its cracks,
still smells like the old house
it was once abandoned in.
Probably the same way I left it,
many, many nights.
I’d imagine me sitting there,
convincing myself I could
be the next Shakespeare, and
be the playwright of my own fate,
that I could control tomorrow
and what the next scene unravels.
I’d convince myself I was
the next Mozart
and that I could
be the conductor of my own life.
But the reality is,
I am not even sat there.
.You can bring a horse to water but you can't make it holdMore Like This
its nose to the grindstone and hunt with the hounds.
Every dog has a stitch in time. Two heads? You've been sold
one good turn. One good turn deserves a bird in the hand.
A bird in the hand is better than no bread.
To have your cake is to pay Paul.
Make hay while you can still hit the nail on the head.
For want of a nail the sky might fall.
People in glass houses can't see the wood
for the new broom. Rome wasn't built between two stools.
Empty vessels wait for no man.
A hair of the dog is a friend indeed.
There's no fool like the fool
who's shot his bolt. There's no smoke after the horse is gone.
-symposium, paul muldoon
Simple ThingI’d like to be an off-beatMore Like This
syncopated little thing;
note and stem floating on the melody, just sitting in
appoggiatura, grace-note, special thing.
I’d like to be a sailor
swinging on the ocean wind
coarse old rope between my hands and salt-spray where my toes begin
nimble little sailor, clever thing.
I’d like to be a bed-sheet
gentle thing to warm your skin
thing that you hug tighter when the morning starts to filter in
falling through your creases, lucky thing.
Where I'm FromI'm from a herd of bullsMore Like This
Strong and fierce and meant to last
From loyalty to spirit
To red, white, and black
I'm from the strong bond we hold
One that can never break
From the trust and friendship we share
To our pride that could split a hair
I'm from a drive by, drive through
No name street
From fallen trees to broken power lines
This is what I call home
I'm from the dead-end
That serves no purpose
From the mailboxes in need of repairs
To a family who cares
I'm from the blood and sweat
Of hard work and heartbreak
From "How was your day?"
To "Don't talk to me."
I'm from a puzzle that doesn't go together
To something that fits so perfectly
From confusion, hatred, and lies
To comfort, love and home (which may seem like a surprise)
I'm from a herd
A break in the trees
And the love I hold so dear
From colors and fallen trees
To something bigger than you or me
I'm from love and dedication
That will never fade
Not now, not ever, because this is what I made
Sign LanguageAnd as I sit on my old and squeaky bed,More Like This
wrapped in thick blankets to keep hidden from the cold morning air,
I open my book and begin to learn
how to speak with my hands,
and say what I have been hoping to tell you since
I first became your friend.
I learn how to make phrases in hope that
I might be able to tell you
just how much you mean to me
and how you are one of my
Absolute TruthYour truth tries to sparkle,More Like This
cliche-flowery language wilting beneath my all-American, bold-face style.
I’ll give you the gospel and a glass of something strong.
My Truth is jagged, ugly and completely worthwhile.
Your higher education is moot,
The words that you studied flawed.
I’ll give you props for your stellar mustache
But your gross overuse of aphorisms should be out-lawed.
I’m not an enemy of truth,
I’m a drunken Gonzo journalist, forever!
I was in awe of your madness.
Until I found out it was from syphilis, playa.
Guess you didn’t study that disease.
Guess you didn’t need that information.
The nitty-gritty truth comes in all forms.
Had you never considered masturbation?
I learned to rebel with drugs and Hell’s Angels.
I went a little mad in my youth.
I wrote of what I saw in this twisted world.
A raconteur of absolute truth.
O Starry Skies!O Starry skies across the night,More Like This
I'll ask you a question tonight:
Of all that's splendorous and bright,
What truly reaches insanity?
Is it the albatross, with gaily wings?
Is it thunderclouds, with the rain it brings?
Is it the cricket, with the song it sings?
Oh I shall never know, I shall never know.
My life's horizon is clouded and dim;
My life's laughter is mournfully grim;
And every breath and sound, a deadly hymn;
For what was alive, is singing its lament.
Ennui, Ennui, all around,
Sucks the water off the ground,
Diminishes the great sound,
a whirlwind stripped of creativity.
The straight ditches that we have cut,
are sharp, painful, glorious but;
are still walls for a timid brook,
which fills itself up, and drowns a book.
That's why I come to you tonight,
longingly, with a dreadful light!
May your darkness fill me uptight
with one dazzling speck of madness!
For what is left to who is dead?
Maybe worms, and block of lead,
Drowning in rigid black ponds instead
of black ink-k
this way you wouldn't have to screamframing this is like cutting up the stripsMore Like This
of her shredded shirt, and
"this isn't blood," she would say
even though he's pretty sure
(take your time at the station crossing,
bird wings soaring against gravity,
owing the Earth everything for flight,
but corduroy suns aren't warm enough,
and mis-named chords are breathing down his neck,
directly: fading at the hands of paper and ink
"this isn't blood" he says
even though she's pretty sure
RPGs need to find a new angle.I’ve been skimming through previews of Witcher 3: The Wild Hunt.More Like This
I am so bored with the standard aesthetic of RPGs.
Swords, sorcery, European environments.
I’m sure that my weariness of these visuals stems from the fact I live in England, and that I grew up playing amid the ruins that scatter the borderlands of the North East. Ancient mounds, the remnants of Hadrian’s wall, fallen abbeys and frontier fortifications; because I see all that in REAL LIFE, I have no desire to wander digital versions.
Fable 2 and 3 are exceptions. Those are clearly fantasy versions of England, but they nod to different periods in history. 16th and 17th century rather than 11th and 12th. Flintlocks over chainmail. It adds something new.
I never bothered to finish Skyrim, but I’ve played Fallout 3 and New Vegas a dozen times, because the latter games are, to British eyes, a more exotic world. They are just as strange and foreign to me as a land l
Another Random ThoughtHave you ever wondered what form of visual entertainment would be the best fit for one of your stories? I dunno, I sometimes imagine one of my ideas playing out in front of me in different ways. Like, maybe this idea would look good as a CGI movie, and this one would be cool as a cartoony animated series, while that one might do best in a sort of anime-ish style, and that one as a live-action series or something, and maybe that one would look good as a comic book, whereas that one would make a really fun video game of this genre, and this one would be a good game in that genre. Sorry, I'm just rambling at this point.More Like This
Of course, I don't expect to see nearly any of my ideas hit the big screen or get a TV series or turn into a video game; I don't seem to draw the degree of attention it takes for anything like that. If anything, I at least want to write them all out someday, but I doubt I'll ever have anything go beyond that. Still, one can dream and imagine, and I just think it's a bit fu