a cold, dead, white husk
constantly crawling at me,
inch by inch,
and i keep on running.
i gain some distance,
however little, every day.
but when it's time to sleep,
it's back there, getting closer.
is it gaining? falling behind?
the darkness is impenetrable.
inevitably, out of nowhere,
a vice-like grip gets a hold of me.
i punch it in the face
until my knuckles bleed.
but still it hangs on
and i'm dragged under again.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
mug
a newspaper sits on the floor,
propped up like a tent.
its pages spilled everywhere,
like guts from a sliced stomach.
only the comics page lies
on the kitchen table.
one headline reads:
boy found dead in ditch.
on the way to the recycle bin
it slips and is blown away by the wind.
a circle left behind by a wet coffee cup
frames the mug shot of the boy.
propped up like a tent.
its pages spilled everywhere,
like guts from a sliced stomach.
only the comics page lies
on the kitchen table.
one headline reads:
boy found dead in ditch.
on the way to the recycle bin
it slips and is blown away by the wind.
a circle left behind by a wet coffee cup
frames the mug shot of the boy.
Monday, January 25, 2010
I fucking hate grocery shopping
The whiny little shits
in the cereal aisle
who don't get want they want
and need to get slapped ...
And the ones who trail
behind their parents silently -
even through the candy section -
They've probably been slapped today.
The waddling pregnant woman
buying a case of High Life.
Who's that white trash kidding,
we know it's not for her husband.
The black thug eyeing an endcap
of Chap-Stic and hand lotion...
He's really eyeing that old woman
whose purse is barely hanging on.
A 30-something dude with long hair,
cross around his neck, holding a Bible,
wearing sandals with socks.
Fucking born-again Christian.
Middle-aged blonde in a skirt
up to the bottom of her ass.
I wonder who she's fucking.
Personal trailer? Her pool boy?
Disgusted, I go to check out,
where a sweet girl rings me up.
She probably wants to kill me
for delaying her lunch break.
Walking out I pass the ice,
and see my reflection in the glass.
This guy - this guy right here -
He's just fucking pathetic.
in the cereal aisle
who don't get want they want
and need to get slapped ...
And the ones who trail
behind their parents silently -
even through the candy section -
They've probably been slapped today.
The waddling pregnant woman
buying a case of High Life.
Who's that white trash kidding,
we know it's not for her husband.
The black thug eyeing an endcap
of Chap-Stic and hand lotion...
He's really eyeing that old woman
whose purse is barely hanging on.
A 30-something dude with long hair,
cross around his neck, holding a Bible,
wearing sandals with socks.
Fucking born-again Christian.
Middle-aged blonde in a skirt
up to the bottom of her ass.
I wonder who she's fucking.
Personal trailer? Her pool boy?
Disgusted, I go to check out,
where a sweet girl rings me up.
She probably wants to kill me
for delaying her lunch break.
Walking out I pass the ice,
and see my reflection in the glass.
This guy - this guy right here -
He's just fucking pathetic.
Friday, January 22, 2010
A Different Kind of Pain
Started smokin' when she left me,
Now it's one or two packs a day.
Mom says it's not good for me,
But I do it anyway.
Tradin' one hurt for another,
First my heart and now my lungs.
If only I was stronger,
If only I was young.
Like I'm lost inside a forest,
Surrounded by decay.
The sun is slowly fading,
I light one up to show the way.
Now it's one or two packs a day.
Mom says it's not good for me,
But I do it anyway.
Tradin' one hurt for another,
First my heart and now my lungs.
If only I was stronger,
If only I was young.
Like I'm lost inside a forest,
Surrounded by decay.
The sun is slowly fading,
I light one up to show the way.
Fake It
There's this little thing I do,
with everyone I know.
I smile and laugh and joke.
I put on a show.
Happy and jovial and together,
that's what they think of me.
When behind closed doors I cry,
until about 2 or 3.
I know I'm not the only one,
who chooses to live this way.
I'm your average, sad bloke,
Trying to get through the day.
with everyone I know.
I smile and laugh and joke.
I put on a show.
Happy and jovial and together,
that's what they think of me.
When behind closed doors I cry,
until about 2 or 3.
I know I'm not the only one,
who chooses to live this way.
I'm your average, sad bloke,
Trying to get through the day.
Pursuit of Happiness
Chasing it like a dream
that slips through your mind
like sand through your fingers,
yearning to be forgotten.
Seemingly unattainable
like a gust of wind
blowing through your open hands,
never to be stopped and grabbed.
It scampers and hides
down the rabbit hole
that is your soul,
yearning to be found.
that slips through your mind
like sand through your fingers,
yearning to be forgotten.
Seemingly unattainable
like a gust of wind
blowing through your open hands,
never to be stopped and grabbed.
It scampers and hides
down the rabbit hole
that is your soul,
yearning to be found.
Friday, January 15, 2010
that feeling you get
you know the feeling you get,
when you are so parched
you can't even swallow,
and then have a glass of ice cold water?
you know the feeling you get,
when you've been on your feet
for the entire day,
and finally get to sit down?
you know the feeling you get,
when you tell someone close
a big, fat, juicy secret,
and your chest feels suddenly lighter?
that is pretty much how i feel
when i watch you sleep,
feel your touch,
and hear your voice.
when you are so parched
you can't even swallow,
and then have a glass of ice cold water?
you know the feeling you get,
when you've been on your feet
for the entire day,
and finally get to sit down?
you know the feeling you get,
when you tell someone close
a big, fat, juicy secret,
and your chest feels suddenly lighter?
that is pretty much how i feel
when i watch you sleep,
feel your touch,
and hear your voice.
little flower
she walks through the garden,
slowly, and with care.
seeking no particular thing,
just looking here and there.
rows of roses and beds of buttercups
extend in every which way.
but what this girl is looking for,
not even she can say.
humming, ambling,
dreaming all the while.
when suddenly she spots,
a mound of dirt in a pile.
a few defiant, withered petals
stared her in the face.
so sad and pathetic
in such a beautiful place.
so when she scooped it from the dirt,
held it close and hummed a song,
that little flower finally knew,
it had found a place to belong ...
slowly, and with care.
seeking no particular thing,
just looking here and there.
rows of roses and beds of buttercups
extend in every which way.
but what this girl is looking for,
not even she can say.
humming, ambling,
dreaming all the while.
when suddenly she spots,
a mound of dirt in a pile.
a few defiant, withered petals
stared her in the face.
so sad and pathetic
in such a beautiful place.
so when she scooped it from the dirt,
held it close and hummed a song,
that little flower finally knew,
it had found a place to belong ...
you're never truly alone
when you live in a world like this.
others will always share your pain,
your loneliness, and heartbreak.
when it seems like all is lost,
reach out and make a connection.
remember you are one of many
going through this challenge called life.
the best thing about this life we live,
is we can make it whatever we want.
so fake it if you have to -
and eventually it may come true.
live like the next best thing,
is just around the corner.
no matter how long it takes,
because, eventually ... it is.
when you live in a world like this.
others will always share your pain,
your loneliness, and heartbreak.
when it seems like all is lost,
reach out and make a connection.
remember you are one of many
going through this challenge called life.
the best thing about this life we live,
is we can make it whatever we want.
so fake it if you have to -
and eventually it may come true.
live like the next best thing,
is just around the corner.
no matter how long it takes,
because, eventually ... it is.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
incoherence
more than anything i miss being a child. i miss believing in santa claus and the tooth fairy. i miss being ignorant.
when the magic leaves your life, and you realize how cold and cruel the world can be, things start to change. your outlook on life starts to warp.
there are no miracles, only coincidences. good things happen to bad people, and bad things happen to good people. things happen for no reason.
the fact of the matter is most people live incredibly boring lives. they do nothing of real importance, nothing that affects a large scale of people, and then they die. that's why so many people cling to ideals like family, to give their lives some shred of meaning.
others are married to their work, to their visions. i have no such thing to live for. not right now.
all i have right now is the knowledge that, like most people, i am vastly insignificant. in a hundred year's time my existence will have meant nothing, like most people. what i do today and how i approach tomorrow, therefore, are only for my benefit, for how i choose to live my life.
life is too short for me to feel this way. a change is needed. one only i can supply. the only question, then, is whether or not i will.
when the magic leaves your life, and you realize how cold and cruel the world can be, things start to change. your outlook on life starts to warp.
there are no miracles, only coincidences. good things happen to bad people, and bad things happen to good people. things happen for no reason.
the fact of the matter is most people live incredibly boring lives. they do nothing of real importance, nothing that affects a large scale of people, and then they die. that's why so many people cling to ideals like family, to give their lives some shred of meaning.
others are married to their work, to their visions. i have no such thing to live for. not right now.
all i have right now is the knowledge that, like most people, i am vastly insignificant. in a hundred year's time my existence will have meant nothing, like most people. what i do today and how i approach tomorrow, therefore, are only for my benefit, for how i choose to live my life.
life is too short for me to feel this way. a change is needed. one only i can supply. the only question, then, is whether or not i will.
Monday, December 07, 2009
Decapitation
Blood pools around me,
stretching to the ends of the road.
Lying on my side,
I feel weightless.
I hear horns honking,
feel the wetness on my cheek,
as slowly my eyes close
and I see dark.
A few brief seconds
are all I have left.
Regrets devour me,
as I think ... if only ...
stretching to the ends of the road.
Lying on my side,
I feel weightless.
I hear horns honking,
feel the wetness on my cheek,
as slowly my eyes close
and I see dark.
A few brief seconds
are all I have left.
Regrets devour me,
as I think ... if only ...
Tuesday, October 06, 2009
History
History is an unforgiving beast,
claiming the identities of all.
Stealing away those who have lived
and locking them in her vault.
For when a man dies - as surely man does -
it becomes only a matter of time
and numerous generations past
before not a soul knows them true.
A name surely lives on,
feats and deeds, too.
But who they truly were?
Not anyone can say.
Fret not about your life, then,
lest you be remembered as a 'fretter'.
For in time all men die,
whisked away by History.
claiming the identities of all.
Stealing away those who have lived
and locking them in her vault.
For when a man dies - as surely man does -
it becomes only a matter of time
and numerous generations past
before not a soul knows them true.
A name surely lives on,
feats and deeds, too.
But who they truly were?
Not anyone can say.
Fret not about your life, then,
lest you be remembered as a 'fretter'.
For in time all men die,
whisked away by History.
The Loving Whore
Lying on her back
while a stranger,
heavy, sweaty,
pumps away.
He thinks hard
of macabre images,
trying to stay
his sad 3-incher.
She thinks, too,
of home, a son,
food he must eat,
clothes he must wear.
She is many things,
a whore, a mother,
a working woman,
an AIDS carrier.
What, then, is right?
Adoption? Foster home?
If she loves her child,
should she roll over and die?
while a stranger,
heavy, sweaty,
pumps away.
He thinks hard
of macabre images,
trying to stay
his sad 3-incher.
She thinks, too,
of home, a son,
food he must eat,
clothes he must wear.
She is many things,
a whore, a mother,
a working woman,
an AIDS carrier.
What, then, is right?
Adoption? Foster home?
If she loves her child,
should she roll over and die?
You know those people that are just "born to do something"? That in their younger years find a passion or talent for something and go with it until the day they die?
How about those who always have things go their way? They meet someone they love at a young age, marry them, have jobs that make good money and raise their own kids?
Some people start something and never finish it until it's done. No matter how many years it takes. No matter the struggle and hardships.
Others live lives of excitement. They never stop for anything in particular, whether it be a person they love or a job opportunity they'd have to be crazy to pass up. They have to keep moving because it makes them feel alive.
You know those types of people?
I'm not one of them.
And I guess most people aren't, but I still envy them.
I am a floater, drifting through space, waiting for something to crash in to me. I'd like to think it's long overdue.
How about those who always have things go their way? They meet someone they love at a young age, marry them, have jobs that make good money and raise their own kids?
Some people start something and never finish it until it's done. No matter how many years it takes. No matter the struggle and hardships.
Others live lives of excitement. They never stop for anything in particular, whether it be a person they love or a job opportunity they'd have to be crazy to pass up. They have to keep moving because it makes them feel alive.
You know those types of people?
I'm not one of them.
And I guess most people aren't, but I still envy them.
I am a floater, drifting through space, waiting for something to crash in to me. I'd like to think it's long overdue.
Thursday, October 01, 2009
Monday, August 03, 2009
If you think of your life as in stages, what stage are you in now? What stage did you currently abandon, and what does the future have in store?
To know where you're going and get where you want to go, you have to know where you are now. You wouldn't look at a map to find where you're going if you couldn't locate where you currently were, so why expect to get anywhere in life without first knowing where you stand in the present?
The only way to know where you are now is to know who you are. And that is to know who you have been and also who you want to be. What changes are required of you to change from who you were, in to who you want to be?
Don't worry so much on who you are right now. There's little we can do about that. You are who you are because of an infinitely complex string of events and actions. To change who you are now would be to go back and change them, which is fruitless.
Instead, look where you want to be. What will it take to get there? How will you have to act? What will you need to sacrifice? It isn't a question of whether or not you are capable, but whether or not you are willing. And if you are - your future is yours to decide.
To know where you're going and get where you want to go, you have to know where you are now. You wouldn't look at a map to find where you're going if you couldn't locate where you currently were, so why expect to get anywhere in life without first knowing where you stand in the present?
The only way to know where you are now is to know who you are. And that is to know who you have been and also who you want to be. What changes are required of you to change from who you were, in to who you want to be?
Don't worry so much on who you are right now. There's little we can do about that. You are who you are because of an infinitely complex string of events and actions. To change who you are now would be to go back and change them, which is fruitless.
Instead, look where you want to be. What will it take to get there? How will you have to act? What will you need to sacrifice? It isn't a question of whether or not you are capable, but whether or not you are willing. And if you are - your future is yours to decide.
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