Eat Me, Drink Me

RIP

2012-01-27T00:59:00.001-08:00

Lie in the dark with me. Let me crush your bones.

Cold has finally crept through the cracks of your soul.

Lay you down. Still. No breath to come any more. Resilience is brilliance. Slither no more.

Women

2012-01-13T13:43:00.001-08:00

Elderly women wear Chanel glasses to cover their wrinkles in time. They sit gracefully by ponds sipping upon the most delicate of tea.

There souls are the very surface of mirrors. Reflecting this way and that.

The clock ticks on. Too much time to sit and ponder. Steady as she goes.

Wings

2012-01-12T20:42:00.000-08:00

As the sun sets over a vast blue sea, I find my wings. For there is untold freedom in the wake of the past. A new dawn to be had by each and every living soul.

There's a hidden passion in each of us. It may lie in the back of our minds tugging on the tendrils that lay soft over our napes. It's a hidden lust for adventure. A wonder of the birth of this very universe.

Someday your wings will show and beauty will be born in the name of knowledge. Fly on.

Frustration

2012-01-08T21:26:00.001-08:00

There are things one cannot contain. Such as frustration. It grips on tightly like a perfect glove. Unable to be fully released. Tension builds and all seems to be lost. It's the silent dagger to the heart. A love suicide.

Objects and Keys

2012-01-07T00:17:00.000-08:00

No shame in a tear shed. It represents what we are missing in the world, The rusty objects left in self denial to rot away. Secretly knowing that the object itself is your soul.

Locked away with no key. Nobody else can unlock the mysteries and sadness that lie within. Your best bet is to put on a smile, Wrap yourself in pretty plastic and make a "change". Your fooling everyone but yourself. Though at times, you look in the mirror and believe the facade.

It's merely a parade to your death. Wishful. Did you ever live at all? That is a question to bury away in the sea of lonely. It will eat away at you until a complete demise comes round. Take heed darlings, Creatures crawl towards you with every breath you take.

Sleep

2012-01-02T17:56:00.000-08:00

Sleep doesn't come. My mind is restless in the glowing night light. The moon is my man, my comfort that all is not dark. My dreams are lively. They float about in the midnight sky, painting patterns across each star. Though they are not dreams. Just reality which is yet to come.

Floating across the ocean in silence, my mind finds flight in the calm of the waves. Each broken sorrow of yesteryear ebbs away at the tides soft pull. Creatures follow in the wake of my thoughts. Singing old sounds to ease the black of night. Maybe sweet sleep will come at last.

My fears are over. The sun glows red.

Choice

2011-12-28T22:32:00.000-08:00

Some things vanish with the thought of the future. They die a quiet and painless death.

Some things come about with thoughts of the past. They can bring feelings of hate and morbid obsession about. They are hard to let go of and easy to gain.

When one has choice as to what they can feel they have power. It might not fly them to the moon and back but it will certainly help them claim their own lives. It may take some time but they will have the ability to do it. Without this control, one is open to the void of confusion and wanders aimlessly for the years to come.

Pick your poison. You choose defeat or hope. The choice is yours.

Hope

2011-12-13T00:35:00.000-08:00

Past century it has been found under the layers of skin that you peel off nightly, that there is something lost. Your just in search for it. This thing that was once cherished so.

Walking through the cherry blossoms you seek this which had once graced you. Was it love? Or a mere memory of past time resurface? Neither seem to fit the pieces of this age old tale.

Has there been songs sung of it? Or has it been written about in summers eve? No way of knowing at this point.

So you sparkle under the sun light and dance across the oceans floor.

Be young and feel freedom and you can discover what you lost once more.

Tears fall down your face. For you now remember what was lost, it was hope.

Evanescent Tear

2011-12-12T01:37:00.000-08:00

I cried last night because I love you. I cried because you faltered to fold me into your arms once again. I cried because the liquid fire you drank turned you cold as ice. I cried when the petals fell from the church top as you passed by.

Your evanescent love faded to trickles of grey. It dripped down in the form of tears, past the china and pass the eye of the neighbor. You were the thorn to the heart buried so deep it was concealed.

You were the witch that cast spells on thousands in the form of natural disaster. You were the wicked man who gave the children to the wolves once and for all.

The man who holds my heart dear. The same man who has locked it away forever. No key.

I cried because no matter the cruel, no matter the grand, there is love, and it stains my mind.

Velvet Dagger

2011-11-28T14:45:00.001-08:00

Your my velvet dagger to the heart. The one and only that pierces my soul to pieces of origin. The steel blade that cuts into the veins of the future and clots up the past into tiny webs of total confusion.

Your the one that they want. The only one that still has his will to his name. The others are cowards of the law. The Marshal's own slaves at the bottom of the dregs. All undercover. All hiding from what really haunts them.

Their own faces stare into blood shot eyes. Cracking mirrors and breaking down buildings as they pass on by. Something more than a physical reaction.

It's a mind game. One that your dying to use to swipe the city clean with. A poison in forms only tangible to the evils of other worlds secluded from this.

Ice runs through veins thick and thin pulling you from gravity. It's a sweet world. But the echoing screams of passion wars plays in your ears forever. Haunting and relentless.

Perfect Crime

2011-11-27T23:00:00.001-08:00

And for you to leave, would be torture in it's finest. Resulting in end and ocean of tears.
No comfort. No remorse.
The crime of sanity is the cost of love. No matter the shades of grey glory in between.
Every tear drop is a diamond. Blood diamond, divulged from the heart.

Feed from it.

Liquor Lost

2011-11-20T04:53:00.001-08:00

Liquor laced tears stream down your face. Forbidden men haunt your crowded halls. Trying to find the light in the room, it's been moved it seems. Where did your friends go? Away with the lights and the cameras. Left wandering the darkened halls in an endless search. You just wanted a good time. Wanted the base to fill your bone structure with heavens last feel. What he felt before Hates claimed his soul. Devoured it like the cannibal he really is. Da Vinci painted it otherwise. Strokes blur the pages which have so been written in this Old Testament of time. This is about to change though. Climb the rocks by the ocean blue. Plunge forth.

Lights Above

2011-11-16T23:35:00.001-08:00

There will be lights over are heads, above our souls and in our minds. We shall be our own lights that guide our steps down dark paths and into the future.
My child will be my light. My guided star home at the end of each days hard work.
Music is the blind mans light. The light that holds his hand through the hours that tick by on wax tailored clocks.
The child in school has a light in each one of his parents faces. They shine upon him and show him that there is a future to be conceived in each tumult of thought. That a new light will be given birth too with each growing idea.

There is a light for every soul out there. Whether it is dim or faded at current, it does not matter. For one day or the next, that light will shine on and let loose upon this world. This green Earth. It will out shine the glowing candles at the midnight hour, the lamp shades, the classy chandeliers and the old stained candelabras. It will bring happiness to each and to all. That light is courage which in turn is happiness. That light is the power of one and the power of all. Be bright! Don't fight off the hero inside. Glow.

Contract's Rein

2011-11-15T22:35:00.001-08:00

Surfing on clouds of gossamer white. Slick like acid down a drain, that's the feelings of this new stain upon my shirt. The heavy drops of rain weighing me down. Pinning me to Earth. I don't have a care in the world. I feel beautiful with you. Covered in mud and wrestling through the foliage, Where is the house? I swear it moves sometimes. Stands upon it's tiny chicken legs and makes a dart for it. Wishing never to return but always finding it never went anywhere in the start. Oh , the joy of being contracted to one place at a time. It's a curse of excellence. Unbreakable. Merely a dream gone wrong but not yet a nightmare. Inconceivable bliss! Ah! And there is the house. Where it always is. Upon the steep hill of my gratitude. I will let the rain wash over me once more. I am a free bird. I cannot be ensnared in the same net as this home. It's too contradictory. Chop suey!

America America

2011-11-09T01:47:00.000-08:00

I feel like I've been here before. In this small room with its panes of stained glass. With this built up sensation gripping my mind. Satin curtains blow in the wind. Is it a dream or is this a nightmare. Desert sand. It's hard to tell if you are the dreamer in this place. With Stalin on every street and Hitler watching your moves, things seem a fairy tale. The one with the grim ending. So who knows what is real? Only the unborn who linger in their cages. Fighting to get out of their metal homes. Prostitution isn't the only thing plaguing the streets. There's famine and war. Bombs going off in our minds while we fight with our guns and our might. Under the sea and above the sun. In the unknown void of space and in the time which does not live on. We are one, under the flag which wages war and has no liberty or justice. As the flag sees that we are not equal and blinds us with lies. Truth is hidden under new layers of paint which can not be peeled from these prison walls. Cold as ice.

Alive

2011-11-08T17:08:00.000-08:00

I had a beautiful nightmare last night. The time had melted into puddles of gold. Thunder and lightening composed of glitter would strike. Your heart had burst to fire and turned my soul to molten lava. I had love for the first time. It was a horrible thing. Something that broke down into small complexities that covered the earth in ashes. It made me cringe. I howled at the moon with you for hours that night. For you made me feel alive. And I know why, You were danger. The knife to the back. The collapsed lungs I secretly wished for in my warm quilted bed. No fear of death, Just desire for it to take me into it's angel black arms. Twisted faces morphing into spirits soar above the stars. And I am the maker, Here to meet my oldest friend. Dream on devil.

The Key Home

2011-11-06T13:50:00.000-08:00

As you lie next to me, I tell you that you make me feel like home. But as the words leave my mouth I realize. You are my home. So I will follow you through thick and thin. Through the worlds hottest fires and darkest alleys. As long as I know that I'm following you, I can be safe. When nightmare grips and becomes reality, I know that by the end I can fall into your arms yet again.

These castle walls cannot be broken through with your gates of steal. You hide our hearts in a vault of gold. No bomb could make it explode. Only each other. For you are the love of my life. The one who has the key. And without you, Well now, That isn't even imaginable.

Want

2011-11-03T21:09:00.000-07:00

And so we sprinkled the world with flowers and I decided to run away with you. To a better earth and a better moon. Bouncing from the sun amongst the newer planets and back to earth. Doing things the proper way was never for me. I want to do it wrong. Make mistakes and adventure. No rules. No lies. Just free like a bird. Soaring over oceans and trees.

Jumbles Reside

2011-11-03T12:55:00.000-07:00

A day to dress as one might, That should be everyday. To be free to change your name and wink at the stars which crossed your path. That would be mightier than the sword. Words cut and tools just destroy. Too many differences. We can set them aside and cast new shadows on our sun speckled toes. No water to drown us in our own homes. Fill up with heat, a fire of passion and desire to get along. We know no bounds to the ties we have. Only stretching the marks across the stomach of cowardly lovers. Giving birth to the still born of our flag. Have some feelings or considerations for the after math of this cold war. Reside.

Styrofoam Sea

2011-10-29T21:04:00.001-07:00

But from the end till the start things are born backwards. Aspiral of sugar coated dreams slipped into the glass of the beholder. Liquorand lace filling the lungs of the damned. Slow, like a flower giving birth to anew thorn. Stabbed right through the heart, with no return.

The future folds into itself. There are no hands on theclock. It’s melted into oblivion. Shattered like tiny shocks of electric waves.Filtered through the sea and into the land. Sorrow breaks at the shore.

The doves scatter off the cliffs edge bringing the end ofall tears. You’re the swell kind. The one with the heart made of ice, meltinginto the hate of a thousand years past. We spin our own pirouettes out of classand wealth. Making things anew. Working over the towers and into the clouds.Speak the word and this paradise lost could be. Don’t wish anything else.

Disregard for the mistakes made. Soar.

Eddie

2011-10-28T21:49:00.000-07:00

I will not die before I wake as I have given you my heart and soul to take. I feel your presence in the corner of the room. Your watchful eyes killing any demon who wanders by. No filth or slime to spread disease. Only love strong to keep another safe and please. So when I say that your the only one for me when dawn has come, know I speak the truth. Your the only one I can be safe with through and through. So all that I ask of you is to take my hand and show me proof. A ring of stature stands so tall. Ring of peace tells it all.

Snow Down

2011-10-24T14:07:00.000-07:00

Today is dreary like the last. The snow falls like angels descending from heaven. Some say its a sign of health and joy to come. Others stand in huddles on frozen streets. A nightmere for them. For they will surely become one with the ice bank soon enough. No fire on this earth could melt the fear thats etched within their hearts.

On another note, No fire will burn down a stone house. This place is full of castles. Some floating on clouds while some sit in the mud. Depends on what class of man you are. The ones with the metal minds and dusty breifcase will surely sit higher than the others. They sit straight without arching their backs. Not a frightened cat but a cowardly lion.

Is this earth better now that men have given us women? After all they provide the future for us. No stopping there. Birth may be pain but it's better than a famished village with hollow eyes and no hope. That's the point of oblivion. Knowing one has no return and no way to make it better is just as good as a bomb going off. Exploding from out to in. Then turning into white rage that engulfs every mortal in the way. An end.

Dream Keeper

2011-10-23T16:01:00.000-07:00

Stitch your quilt from old dreams song. Another new arrival upon this dawn. Sing my heart to sleep. For the dreamer is not in control in this misty land. The rival has it all in his hands. He strings your children like marionettes. Brings the snatcher to the best. Then he frolics in the forest all well and alone. Chokes the child's mother with his horse hands of rope. He is the grim reaper and gift keeper. He can change your fate with the toss of a coin. And for that, you wish you were never born. So steer clear of sleep. Sandman is out to get you. He wants to pull you under and sink you like a stone. Never to emerge from the "dream".

Short To The Point

2011-10-23T15:56:00.000-07:00

And so the novels and love stories around the world prove to be true, For every gal, There is always a gallant prince waiting. He might be hidden in the shadows of yesterday or far away out of his senses. But he's there, and when he finds you, Treat him well.

Lift Off

2011-10-22T05:26:00.000-07:00

I feel like life is spinning circles over our heads. We breathe in the small amount of air and save it in our lungs. A gift from this great earth. Not so pure, Wishful thinking on this count. Nobody knows what perfect is. We stride to reach the best but best is not always achieved. A bloody blow to the gut indeed. If you cross your fingers then maybe you can fly. Lift off.

This is Goodbye

2011-10-21T07:05:00.000-07:00

And this is my goodbye.

Your mind is made. You will be the hero that kids speak of in the recent future. The one in the gold cape. Ninja.
My heart aches. As you are my sea, sand and sky. Sink into the bottomless ocean. My anchor is gone.

Burned out with the midnight oil, Fragile in case. There is no word to sum this up. Just that you are the key to my heart. You've changed me for the better. Without you I would be the coal lashing down the mountain, rolling into the nothingness of the future.
Instead I shine diamond bright.

After all this is what your soul has done to mine. Bleeding tears together. Melted into one.
You are my spark.

My everlasting fire. Passion pit. And so I thank you for the dragons which have been slain with such decency.

You are my warm, my candle. Wick is lit into the night. Do not go out.

Into future. Always part of me. No letting go. Oyster to pearl. Sailor to sea. Everlasting.

Burn on my soldier, into the night and past there. Rescue on. As you have aided me.

Your heart, your hand. Yours always.

Riddled Mind

2011-10-17T15:49:00.000-07:00

Your illogics have been written out in script. Taken to the big screen and back in a flash. Isn't it about who you know these days? Well that's what some parents tell their small idle children. They just stare back as they try to find the complexities hidden in the matter. It's just fate. Right? The roll of the dice. The decision based on last minutes feel. Never planned out or obligated. That would just be wrong. But who is to judge the wrong from right now? In a society plagued by corrupt politicians and psychiatrists feeding off our riddled minds, I'd say no soul is to judge. It's a criminal court. Finding where true value lays is near to impossible. Maybe one day this world will stop in vain and find the freedom that lies buried in the vast mountains and seas.

Music

2011-10-15T19:12:00.000-07:00

I just want to get lost in a maze of music. It's the pure glitter and gold to my life. It keeps me going. And when I'm down, It's always there to comfort me. Without it I would not be complete. It's my future and my lover, my father then my mother. It pulls me up in the morning and sets me on course. It's my rebellion and my cause. Simply my whole world. It makes me dance. It makes me still. It's my lullaby and my dream. My own rhythm. My own pattern. Soul.

Cashmere Skin

2011-10-14T15:01:00.000-07:00

Cashmere skin haunts the halls. Like a plague it seeps into the corners of minds. The devil sells his share on the shaded sides of streets by lamp light. It's a drug. Intoxicating towns and then spreading over like disease until it maps the world in splendor. Something this beautiful must not be harmful? Like a dagger in the heart, It is. Sharp as ever and full of witty banter. There are different ways to get your share. Cashmere skin sold whether in the mountains or by the stream. Only a small dose is good for the soul. Sending shivers up your spine with every touch, you let loose. Not control. One taste and it's fatal.

Contradiction

2011-10-13T16:01:00.000-07:00

So this is goodbye. Last piece of art taken back from the borrower. Into the car and off the highway. Now I see from a different view. The past which ties into the present. It wasn't meant to be. We are different strings set on higher chords. Not even close to being the same level. I still wish my soul into your eyes. I wish it would seep into the cracks of your tainted mind. You were my perfect. But then you faded off and took a wrong turn. I will always love parts of you. I still cherish the short memories we made from the silken web of venom's string. Don't let go, I will always be pining for more. Your joy is the very ecstasy I feed off of. It's what keeps the motors running and the streets paved clean of nails. This is an excellent contradiction. One that will keep this mind racing on beyond all barriers. One which will surely be the death and rebirth of this very soul. On and on in a constant battle. My Muse.

Plastic Establishment

2011-10-12T16:02:00.000-07:00

This is a plastic establishment. All crafted by masters of the world seeking to hide the truth under piles of colours and faux furs. That's not all that they control. They control us like marionettes. Pulling at our every string to reach down into our delicate frame and pluck our hearts out. Eat our blinded eyes. That was breakfast for them, one of the cheery ones you remember and mention to your children on the way out. They are subliminal. They make us think we are the ones in control and totally free when they are the ones feeding us our thoughts by the spoonful. It's a tricky business and every soul on this planet has bought into it to a degree.

So some shed their skins while others sit weaving fresh ones by the hearth. Weave it from the old rattled bones of the past leaders, and the gold which was hidden from our eyes down in the deepest depths. Our hearts are made of molten iron. Only ticking with each new breath. We are attempting to break this society. Rid it of the lice that conceal themselves in our own skulls. Pick them out and hang them like portraits on walls. We just want to display the corrupt criminals of the time so we can feed off their rags. Create what they have destroyed and bring about a new state to those who have lost it.

This world is in the midst of so many wars though, This makes our task hard. For no peace keeper can survive it well beating on drums. We have something to keep us running. Something which is better than power. It is belief. Only that we can stand by and make true. Pour these brooding spirits upon the table. Show your cards. We are not entwined with the ghastly ghosts of the past. Just a new generation in search of what is to come. So spread your feathers out, And let the mud dry. Tears of blood and desperation have been shed. Time has come to dry those sodden eyes. For no more masked fear will dwell in this place making all broken. Only truth to come, a bright and free spirit, which will bring out the colour in this world once again.

Relapse

2011-10-11T00:49:00.000-07:00

Fall away with me angel. Into heaven's black gates. Whisk by the soulless clouds. Not floating on but pulling by as if mangled by man's great thick arms. A choke hold on freedom. Another day passed by. Sing out with the joy that resides. It may be hidden deep, but you will find it. Then cast it out like a great fleet of ships soaring into the sea. Across the universe and across the world. To the other end of the deep blue depths. Cast away like rubbage and old dreams. Find yourself another and drown in it. Swirling to a halt. Limp like the rag doll of child's choice. You've fallen at last. Goodbye sweet angel, Relapse.

Curiously Morbid

2011-10-10T03:23:00.000-07:00

For those who have feelings strike them strange, Do not venture down this path. For I now know where a piece of my soul rests. It was given as a present at first, Ripped from my own heart's silken strings. Sent on in letter or person to the one I thought it was worth giving. And for a while it was cherished and held high. Then the end came. Strings cut, A piece of it did nearly die. Now flightless bird left to dwell amongst redwood trees. But I rediscovered that they who held my heart dear before, Will always have a part of my soul. Whether this is to be feared or simply left to be newly commandeered, I do not know. Please inform those true to treat it well. I know it will be forever. Still pick up the pace and take a step anew. My heart beats still but only for a few.

Murder She Wrote

2011-10-05T16:34:00.000-07:00

It was murder she wrote. She spread it through the town in a cape of crimson red. She brought the wrath upon the children. Do not disobey. And then she lost it all. Every little bit of her self respect. Her family. Her love. Her memories. All gone in a flash of light. A suicide. Churches steeple drenched in the rains brought from above. Anything will fade fast in this town. Off the angels fly. To heaven and above. There is no boundary here. Flee.

Deliciously Overcast

2011-10-04T16:08:00.000-07:00

Today the sun is playing hide and seek. Spotting the clouds in the sky. Today is a day where that hot cup of tea compares to nothing. It's a day full of nostalgia. One to be remembered and lost again in the boxful of memories in your mind. It's a day to think of true love. Is it real or only myth? Another one of those days where you wish the rain would coat the streets in its glorious wonder. Splash down the lane in your big rubber boots. A day where the thunder and lightening sound like music being made by the angels above. This is a day to feel at home in your own heart by your own hearth. One to be remembered. Feel it. The breeze comes now.

Past Till Now

2011-09-29T13:12:00.000-07:00

All I asked was for him to hold my hand. Make me feel safe for at least a moment. Reminisce. Things have changed so much since that year. Everybody grew older. Some moved. Others started wearing trends and undoing themselves in a slow fashion, But I, I stayed the same.

It's all a trick of the mind. Weaving around the corners and bends to escape becoming like every other girl my age. Is there even a way to be unique at this point in life? I'm sure that there is somebody in the world who has the same hair cut, smile, coat, clogs, socks, accessories, room design and ideas. It is a very populated place and for that not to be true, Well I don't even know. I guess it's a timeless mystery which will sit on the shelf for years. Unwatched and gathering dust till the next generation leases it into the world by the can or a garage sale.

I always wanted to grow old. Seeing the elder that I do makes me feel that by the point in time I would have experienced all the great and shed through all the sorrow and broken into a state were no tears could come. I would hate my body. As it would act as merely a couch cover or sit in spots far too long. How lonely and awful this is. But I would know anytime I could be unleashed into the unknown realms. Start over again. Fresh and young but with certainty this time, of what is to come.

But for now I sit still and remember what was. Oh the glorious days I've had! It's a spot I find myself in. Contracted to the devils double. Not able to leave. Not able to truly help. So days tick away and blend into one. It's all the same. Soon I will get a chance. Maybe I can be great. Maybe I can set my spirit free and show that I have something to offer to this world. Maybe I can make a change. A wave into the dark silence of the present and back into my mind. Back to the past.

No Title

2011-09-27T12:01:00.000-07:00

Sun sets upon a new day and turns it to old. The city is painted in colours. Only the ones you choose. For this is your dream which you weave from the spindle that rests in the corner. Nobody can tell you what has been spun. A sweet scent drifts from the candles. Their wicks lacquered in merriment. Holding tight to the needle you keep going. Growing only older as each thread moves towards its home.

Because you were a free thinker, They sent you away to this tower. To be confined in a cell like prison which you cannot leave. Blocks of cement round every bend. Chains keeping you set to ground. Your body is the cage and you cannot escape it here. They make sure of it. Pin you down with pain and other such contraptions to keep you stuck. Only to wither away slow, watch your veins shrink. Fear is the heart of the lion. And they are the mice which attempt to direct you like a marionette. Only behind closed doors.

So shut your eyes. Watch the pictures cross the backs of them. Fading into white then to black. It's an old motion picture which you play constantly in lieu of what was lost that day. And for the preacher? He wound up just like you. Left to rot. Negated by those who "loved" him. It was merely a twisted joke set to bring him to ruins. Blindly of course.

Weaving knots out of your skin and bones. At least you can leave that for them to find and remember you by. Decay into roots. And never be reborn. For this world is not worth knowing in the end. The artist is trapped by those who have hates tiny seeds blossoming from within. They have no mercy. No strength. Vanity. So they slave us and suck off our love and our joy, off our life. They breathe our every breath as it fades into oblivion. They live vicariously through us as they have nothing themselves. They are black holes. And we forever shall be the stars that burn bright through the night and into the future, That leave this place with something to make it worthy. For we know there is no end to freedom whether trapped by bars or by body and souls. We are what will be remembered. We are life. This planet is numb. Watch it fade as we depart.

Wicked Blood

2011-09-26T11:07:00.000-07:00

And so you ask, " Who is the one with the wicked blood?"
And the answer to that simply stated question is I.

A heart so tender can be bruised and damaged beyond repair and turn to stone. It can be cruel and full of shame as it knows no limits. Milestone.

So I sit with my mouth taped shut. Staring at the backs of my eyes. Wishing to leave this place. Hide away for a little while. Maybe there is a place beyond this earth where these things can be mended?

A hard soul is a lonely soul. So it seems thus far. There is no place of refuge for one in this state. Who would want to help the meek minded? Not a soul in this town.

There is no sympathy. Just a remorse that takes control, Shakes the body. Rattles the mind. And from here on out, The lonely has turned to the wandering. A trip away. Stumble on.

Fairy Tales

2011-09-15T10:31:00.000-07:00

We make our own fairy tales. So quit waiting. Get up and weave your own, out of your dreams, your inspirations. Go do it. Nobody else will do it for you. That's just how it is. Take a chance. Risk it all. For in the end, you might have made it. Just how you wished. Just how you wanted.

Dementia

2011-09-12T12:33:00.000-07:00

Dementia. Straining your eyes in the dark. Bloodshot. Hearing pleas for peace and safety from the other cell. Shivers. Pulling at your hair. Tangled. Will anyone ever find you here? No.

Russian roulette lasted far too long. So the price, your head. Sit still. Rattling bones. Hush, Sounds from down the dank hall are eerie. Spider crawls. Don't want to be caught for that would be the end. But isn't that what you want? Twisted.

Picking at your skin. Trapped inside, awaiting release which seems to never come. Knife. Sorrow is bled from your veins. Empty to no satisfaction. Thoughts race. Now down they dive. Plunge it into the heart. Rat runs.

Casket arrives.

Bad Dream

2011-09-12T12:24:00.000-07:00

Fractured Heart

2011-09-11T12:53:00.000-07:00

So everybody gets their fairy tale right? What about those who have ventured to the point past fractured heart and told the one , " Be mine". A refusal is always the worst let down. There's too much on the line. Not just your own miserable beating heart in your chest, But a friendship, That if broken could be the end. Dramatic, I know. But that's the truth. When your so far down sometimes there's no surface to come up too. And there's no way to drain the feeling. So you just sit, wishing and waiting for nothing to come.

Seasons At Play

2011-09-08T14:28:00.000-07:00

Snow blankets the town with it's tiny white crystal patterns. Owl makes perch on an old oak tree. Tall as if trying to fight the Eiffel tower in height. Little do's the old oak know that he is only a match against his brothers in which He could not even win.

Sun light filters through the clouds casting shadows on the walls and doors of cold neighbors. Huddle in choir groups and sing about joy and light, Wishing it was summer again as usual. Though there is no sorrow that comes with winter. Just frozen lakes and branches.

No brambles to step on or bees to worry over. No sunscreen and fuss from your mother always repeating how you must slather up again. No popsicle's to be melted and moaned over. Missing the suns hot rays.

We live in a town of seasons, Seasons of the heart and of love, of weather and change. Not just. Winter is the time to be merry and to celebrate, Though most feel it's the time to be mourning the lost and parade about in black.

Then there's fall. Time to jump into those big piles of leaves you adore. And smush your cheek against pumpkins in the patch. Time to be inspired, to decorate your home, your friends and of course, yourself.

Now spring. A time for change. Rid your soul of the old and replace it with season's newest shiny bobbles that have no meaning. Prepare for the oven you call summer. Give yourself a chance to breathe and change yourself. What's new is what's next. Not figurative.

Moving on you have summer. Time for flings. Your heart might soar for a while only to crash when winter's doors open. This is the time to flaunt all you got. To be carefree and enjoy. Though truly you know you waste your time on many things, wishing away the reality of it all. Your living in a dream. The breathless kiss, the night at the beach, the tears over a bottle of Chardonnay and burns which even aloe vera will not calm.

Then they repeat, all the same. Over and over. A cycle of a year, then a lifetime. Don't you wish to change these things. They are counted on to happen. Forever going. Infinite in all of the above. Why not take a chance? Change things up. Feel the road beneath your feet, Run wild amongst the trees, Cry tears of joy while getting lost. Let yourself go. Feel what's real and beautiful.

Don't waste another moment being ordinary. Get up, Jump. For there is much unexplored and you should be the next to conquer the unknown.

Miss Professor

2011-09-08T13:04:00.000-07:00

How I wish I was a professor, A scholarly old miss. I'd know what greatness grew among the tumbleweed down on Earth's big floor. I would have known what true love was to be. And what was next in store. I could have held my grandchildren for a while to let their mothers rest. And thrown big parties when I was wild and restless. I would hold a spot for each planet in my mind, and know how to navigate through to have a good ole' time. I would have known John Lennon and heard of Lilly Allen too. I would occasionally take a trip down to see the giraffes at the zoo. And after all of theses endeavours, where would I go? Why climbing up to the great gates of heavens white doors!

Hang The Stars

2011-09-07T12:10:00.000-07:00

A chord hangs from space. One tug and all the worlds stars collapse. A whir of fire and heat blaze through a path. Separating one from the other. Two planets left in the aftermath. Not so near as before. Smoke hides earth from view. Just total black now. Pick up the pieces and hang the stars. Give back some light. Paint a new place, make it spin.

Monster?

2011-09-06T23:38:00.001-07:00

Timbuktu

2011-08-31T22:32:00.000-07:00

Hey say maybe we were in Timbuktu. And the navy, Their flags white and blue. Though the sun peaks up above the hills, our hands hold tight, there's too much to thrill. Because far away like lemon drops meets the hand of faith like kisses hot. And sleep tonight, oh sleep tonight, for your on my mind.

Marshal

2011-08-31T00:16:00.000-07:00

Dear Reader, Straightened Out

2011-08-29T03:23:00.000-07:00

Please lock these feelings up in your heart shaped box. The mirror still reflects what was. Present isn't here yet. Only the images which you play on a reel. Non stop like shattered glass. He asks you to cut it. Paste it to the sink and down the drain. But alas, you rebel against the notion to do such. "Easy" was the word you used to describe the act.

Coming home at night , finding you, standing still looking at your double. She's not a ghost. Just what you wished to see. Unbind my hands and I can show you the truth. Isn't that the thing which unlocks the tiny dove to take off? Flight through winter. A never ending cycle.

Though this may be nonsense talk to you, dear reader, there is such unexplored. Clay has yet to be molded and sits in your hands. The planets unwind. Sentence never ending in a dwindle. No right in that. Just beating hearts. Lonely like a star. The harp plays its own strings.

The Stranger

2011-08-23T15:19:00.000-07:00

The stranger that I once knew, meets the beginning of the end. Still. The thorns and brambles that grow up your tower keep memories of yesteryear safe. There is no escape. Though hysterically you may cry, the end came. Over and over till the trees broke. Leaving splinters in your skin.

Now he's opened a new chapter of his life. Gone far from. He lives in his own world. The planets do not align. Writing his own pages. Constructing lines out of paper weights. Dancing with the moons every whim. Sitting by the sun to stay warm.
Laying bricks upon bricks till a new tower stands. No castles here.

Never crossing golden path of dust. Nor sprinkling the stars with silver. This is legend now. No backs nor forths. No criss cross. Just end. Black. Stars explode. Glimmer on. Then lights out.

Sunset

2011-08-23T15:16:00.000-07:00

No Damages

2011-08-23T15:11:00.000-07:00

This Love

2011-08-22T01:56:00.001-07:00

It is in this love we revel. The thing that is said to pierce our hearts so thoroughly, as not to leave a faint spark or hidden desire for another, Just that of a whole heart. No distaste. It is this, which soaks the streets with sodden tears and broken gowns. This is the fiend that haunts each bedside stand with curse of vengeance and glory. It is why we are left for lost once it has been stricken from our very souls. Deep. Passionate. Do not weep for thee that hides in the sweet lingering lust of the past. From hence forward, Act as if a dream. Not the dreamer. And that is what stays with us till the very end. No dark corridor to follow down after. No adventure to be continued. Just revel in the seeds of what was left. As this is so called love. Presented to each, now follow spellbound.

Spider's Web

2011-08-18T14:53:00.000-07:00

Blown Away

2011-08-17T15:24:00.000-07:00

The Prettiest Panes

2011-08-17T15:10:00.000-07:00

Early morn a sky lies speckled with silver and gold. I wait for suns rosy fingers to gently wake me with it's warmth. Softer than a nightgown's silken gleam and still brilliant as a fires blazing beams, A web of colour shines through your window setting your face to glow. The prettiest panes reveal all there is to know.

2011-08-16T15:17:00.000-07:00

Dainty

2011-08-16T15:15:00.000-07:00

MESS

The Little Prince

2011-08-16T02:12:00.000-07:00

There once was a little prince. He was small and noble and handsome. He lived in a tower far from the land and its power. Not knowing what lay ahead.

He knew that he was missing something. Though what was it, he did not know. All he knew was the land and the sea and the sand. No mortal had stepped his way.

The prince tried to find what he was missing in time. He went to a rock and told it to talk. Silence struck his ears. It sent him to tears. What was it that I'm missing? Then he found a hermit one day. He sat in an old cave. He was grumpy and old. "Dear hermit! Please sing. Tell me what I'm missing". The hermit did not reply. He was just very shy. He happened to be a crab. So off he scuttled from the lad.

The prince gave up. " I have no luck"

To the tower he returned. Now one night the strangest thing happened. He lay in bed. Above him he heard some noise. It was the softest thing. Like a whistle and whir. He stirred. Out of bed he went.

Down the long winding stairs. He exited the tower. Out onto the sand. Where is this lovely noise? It was not by the rocks nor by the soft grass. It wasn't the sand. The rock had not spoken. Nor had the hermit arisen.

Down in a slur he slipped and fell in a boat. Sweet dreams dear prince. Sail on to the north.

Awaken by the sun. Is this slumber playing tricks? No this is not. It must be magic. Eyes open now. A maiden stood in his path. She was lovely as flowers and kinder still.

Instantly he knew he found what he was looking for. For love never can die. It sits sometimes and it hides. Once you find it your lost in its web. Its gloss. Happy as ever can be.

This prince did get married. He lived by the sea in a small wooden shack. Happy as ever can be.

Leland

2011-08-16T02:05:00.000-07:00

He stands in the darkening hall. Not caring what is thought. Knowing the pasts swerves toward future light. Showing a new bold feature. Courage. Facing what comes and forgetting what goes. Clouds float on by. Still stands he. The oceans tide cannot do away with him. Nor can the angels. None can stand between him and what he holds as dear. Menatours seek to devour his white soul. A red tinge of light turns to gray as dusk returns from centuries past. As the gray changes yet still to a new dawn on a new time Still he stands. Always there. Always remaining. A hope and a light for the rest to lean and change upon. To be created as new. Forgetting all that once was lamented upon. A new beginning.

Heartbreak Hotel

2011-08-16T01:57:00.001-07:00

Down in the dunes of the sweet city grass. Lies a hotel. Not beauty but crass. Lovers lie in beds filled to the brim. Heartbreak hotel is really a sin.

Though the young thrive on the nights cool jazz. Drinks down throats like a child in a sink. No room for food. Stomach more full. To the brink. Heartbreak hotel is seasons best.

Dance in the warm summer night air. Feel the sand between toes. A toast to the pair. Darkness can't keep out the light of these two. They swirl, they curtsy then they bow. Heartbreak hotel fuller than now.

The water lies murky by the moonlight. Danger below. Oh what a fright. Twosome come down for midnight swim. Ignore the tides ripping film. Into the waves. So delicate and thin. Heartbreak hotel can't help but give in.

Up and down. Tossed like King George's crown. They bubble below. Surface is not too close. Now hit by a rock and whacked by a wave. Heartbreak hotel is quiet with pain.

No more of this couple. Death has taken them on.

Heartbreak hotel is, ugly, a swan.

Over Texas

2011-08-16T01:36:00.000-07:00

In a vessel way up high I look down upon land that's very dry. I wonder then is the place of argument or debate? What makes this state such a different place? Is it the star spangled banner covered in dust or the cowboy boots tramping through the rough? I might not ever know the answer to these but one thing stands strong which is the answers might not please. So who gives a damn if the lone star state makes its way better than any other place! As long as your living rampant and free, I know that's enough to satisfy me.