Sep 28, 2011

overlap

the run off from mental illusions
spill into my waking life.
i slide off the bed
into a puddle of spoiled thoughts.
the stench rises me to feet
without a second look
i create
a device
transports me to a time place
unfamiliar
forms take shape
spewing visible language in the air
i watch the symbols float
collide with rival strains
combine mutate into a soup of letters.
the voices become loud chaotic
polluting the air.
i dance until moisture becomes heavy
drops fall from the sky
drowning out the conversations.
i slowly walk to shelter
allow the cleanse to take place.
others shout envious misunderstandings
i ignore them
enjoy the moment
etch the memory into my brain.

Sep 25, 2011

versus

each person
looks at a blank page.
i scribble notes on the sheet.
each person
looks at a page.
the words differ from points of view.
i change the story
add details
omit truths
present sides of myself.
it's become an art
a con.
i sent doubles into the world
they keep me secure shielded
eyes ears everywhere
presenting themselves as me.
i wait for her
to see through the ghosts
assassinate them until i remain
but i know this is unfair
so i set out into the night
hunt versions of myself
erase them from the world
so when she sees me
she see me.

Sep 23, 2011

eight count

time and pressure won
left me on the canvas
defeated.
sparks light up the sky
a hum plays in the air
vision fades to black.

Sep 21, 2011

redefine

the american dream is not about
  a house
  white picket fence
  two point five kids
  a dog
  rising stocks
  having the latest and greatest.
we've lost our way
caught in a barrage of commercials.
the american dream is about
  doing what you love
  making a change
  helping people
  realizing your full potential
  leaving the earth in better standing.
we've lost our way.
i've turned off the tv
switched radio stations
looked to my fellow man
and said
  only we can control happiness
  times are hard
  but when are they not
  let's change perspectives
  and jump start the positive movement.

Sep 18, 2011

will the guns come out

it came to a point
where the new way of life
became normal.
the children stopped asking
only to replace it with another.
daytime was once sacred
but now
under the warmth of the sun
terror cuts through the air
sending all souls
to take cover
behind thin plates of sheet metal.

fast short long wave

in the vacuum of space
nothing travels
unless it hitches a ride on a string.
i bounce from train to train
making connections that connect
to other parts of the universe.
i settle for a blue green ball
that is both beautiful and hostile.
the brother from another planet
warned me about the american north.
they cut skin on based on skin
but the tragic kingdom is worth the journey
if you're able to survive
and laugh when the need to kill emerges.
i land with two feet smoking.
the sky tells me a message i can't decipher
so like any explorer
i take notes
observe walk taste the air
smell the life
watch the animals.
they speak to me
revealing histories of themselves
i pick a spot
sit
listen to their hearts.
a dialogue begins
between strangers
slowly understanding the other.


Sep 16, 2011

A Note: Give Me A Title

One day I challenged myself to write a poem a day. I started the process then stopped. During that short stint I pushed myself to write and came to the understanding that every word, sentence, or poem can't be a jewel. I'm going to write some lames, but it doesn't matter as long as I keep doing what I love to do. I've started version 2.0 of the poem a day journey. I set up reminders to write, but I don't beat myself up if I miss a day or two. I remind myself that it's fun to create even when I have to push myself. So now that I'm writing consistently I've expanded the scope to include posting on a consistent basis. I've been aggressive in posting and have seen the blog stats jump. It fills me with joy that people around this spinning rock are reading and enjoying my thoughts. (I'll get to the crayons and pictures later.) As I share with you, I ask that you share with me. If you give me a poem title, I'll write and post the poem (tagged as "give me a title). Leave what ever string of words you would like to become a poem in the comments of this post and I'll spin it into a poem. Thanks, I can't wait to see what you send!

P.S.
Don't be shy. That's the beauty of the web. You can voice your thoughts and stay hidden if you choose to, but do share.

Sep 14, 2011

swift

in the heavens
magical creatures congregate
amongst the clouds
they wax poetic
about the trials and tribulations
of the beings below
they observe heartache and pain.
in an attempt to heal the earth bound creatures
their consciousness takes physical forms.
crystals join together
each structure unlike the other
light reflects off it's sparking body.
once complete
these gifts
follow the wind to the earth.
unfortunately
with out ever knowing
we destroy them with every step
an unimaginable amount of diamonds
break beneath our feet
and all that goes through our mind
is the sweet sound of snow
collapsing in on itself.

Sep 9, 2011

the human experience

the human experience
a collage of contradictions
experiences on a collision coarse.
we fabricate realities
worlds built in the sky
on the backs of others.
we strive
for a better way of life
all paths differ like snowflackes
but are held together by a common thread
leading to the same place.

Sep 8, 2011

the crack show

the world is on fire
i light my cigarette with it
sit back relax
inhale exhale blue menthol smoke.
the flickers and sparks
sing sweet lullaby’s
putting me to sleep.
when i wake
the axis still spin
flames are in different locations
but the state of the world
is the same
it is stuck on the same channel.
those who wish not to miss the light show
record the madness
only to push off the viewing
to a day that doesn't exist.
i inhale exhale the menthol smoke
watch it all with a grin.

Sep 4, 2011

drifting on a star

we made a pact
years before time was defined.
you would drift
from the fixed point in space.
i would travel
return to you
with the reflection of the universe.

Sep 2, 2011

residual

i trade new and shine for time tested.
in a dream
she told me to be patient
not to focus
on the wind
lifting particles of sand.
i awoke
held on to the image of the meaning.
a minute later
everything is gone
except for a vague feeling
that no words can describe.
i string together after thoughts
hoping for a coherent
something to take shape.
nothing happens
it is lost beyond my reach.
i breathe slowly
as i become comforted
by the murky cloudy water.
darkness guides me towards the light
they play hide and seek
constantly changing my perspective.
she told me to be patient
i protest
hold the hand of recklessness.
we break up to make up.
i take comfort in the repetition
let all sides
balance each other out.