I Don’t Believe In Ghosts

I don’t think you are real at all,
I dreamt it up, and that is fact.
I am a writer, and my stories are exaggerated
What part of this is not fabricated?
There is no proof anywhere to be had.

Have I not always been looking to the light switches?
It was always me turning them on and off!

My hands pressed into the mattress, it was all a magic trick
The places I awoke in were just mental jewels
Constructions of an intensely vivid imagination
Of a delusional high induced state of mind.
Even in my own reality I felt the need to be haunted
Haunted, a ring in my ears, an echo I am aware,
I come to them in such a way, that leaving…
Leaving will always be my death – One last time my old friend.

Oh and you are no fun with it at all!
Straight to the point, you want me hung before dawn
If I could just drink that whiskey I’ve been saving.
I’ll just leave it to someone who’ll tell a better story;
Because as cold as you are, you won’t wait for it to chill.
Is there anything I can get you before we take this someplace more damned?
Quiet, you contemplate, but expound no words.

I love when you come around, all dressed in your absurdity,
Acting like it’s ambiguous, but we all know each other’s role.
Come my harbinger, what’s one last dance to greet the sun?
Oh well this won’t work, now will it? Deus Vult! Or does he?
Curious, I heard the Chat out on the street,
told me a little bird had learned of the greatest deed!
Your judicator has been slain! And his murderer; Me.
Who now, will preside over this atrocity? Gott ist tot!
His body slumps to the bottom of the sea.

Still here we are, not having a single stroke of luck,
Mathematical probability is not with us in this one.
You want to be desired for your money and success!
No one admits that, but it’s how they live, litmus test.
What about ghosts? If I can’t see or feel it what’s the bother?
It doesn’t whatsoever, easy to forget, forever.

Everything I need is in reach if I want;
If you ain’t eating a plate, don’t even get involved
Because I’m going all the way, won’t settle for a draw;
It’s good over here, let me show ya

A Mouth Full Of Vitals

I want to collapse into the sweet earth, the dirt is my home.
I must not forget that it will be the final place I lay;
Because unlike the lovely rooted denizens ,
My connection is not so physical
Face in the dust, a mouth full of mud
I won’t say anything that filthy.

I’m floating along with all my pride,
What a foolish thing I constantly parade over my mind.
It is more than ironic that this time I am Caesar and the knife

I’ve hoped for mornings,
and I think I’ve been given more than enough sunrises

I never mean these ends
I just want to write about happiness

I can not show my face in the city,
The grime will not find lodging, so I must take some time
I will go away now for a while

What Does It Take? Confidence; It’s All Confidence’

Do you think I love you? If I spoke nothing, could you tell from how I act? Without words to run over you, would my warm soul be enough to keep you out of the cold? If not, then I fear I did not live my life as I had dreamt it; That was where I fumbled – I dreamt it all, and did not act in a way that would bring my dreams to reality. I did not act in a way that would give to you reasons beyond believing; You know my take on faiths.

Are there people who truly believe there is not one thing they can not do? I’ve been on fire like that before! The flames don’t do any harm … at first. They light up the room, illuminate the corridors and corners, and before long you’re cooking in the kitchen – Nourished like a god. Naturally we begin to find that comfort. How could one not find the slightest comfort in waking the mind of a god? Played true to the self It’s so unbelievably intrinsic, from a base level, that we quickly hit the pitfalls; It’s so bright all the time that you begin to adjust to it. You claim that it is dark and begin to over saturate; You piled on too much fuel didn’t you? The flames don’t hurt at first – Then all they do is burn; You don’t forget. You won’t forget.

It is easy to forget all the lessons we integrated along the way; It is easy to forget that we are still required to breathe above all the other things we deem important. Yes, it is the number one lesson. It is something so simple and important, yet despite that importance, you are not to hold on to it. Don’t you see now? What all along your very breath has been trying to teach?

Don’t tell me that shit; You know damn well you can tell if it’s one way or another. You’ve drank my blood and know my death. I can not promise that this will be an easy thing to piece together. It took me all the years of my life so far. I had to find the pieces of the puzzle, but it was so much more than that. The study of each one as an entire individual. Holding each up to the sun to check it’s authenticity, and then sleeping with it under my pillow for many nights – Is there anything I have not allowed to permeate into my mind? You should be able to tell – Haven’t you been spelunking enough to know? I guess it is hard to discern when your head is constantly finding itself thrashed about by these waves.

God, look at her take another hit. Everything is so smooth, all of her is flowing softly; On the outside flames burn controlled – She is a back-draft waiting to roar, and I have no desire to run from the blast. If people are to be damned, then being damned together is a sweeter trail for us to taste. Isn’t it appalling how depressed you get? You’ve got all the finest things a child could grab at, all the refined taste of an aged wine, and dripping juices like a peach of immortality – We’ll have our own feast ; All we can eat; We’ll walk around in a jade palace – We’ll live indefinitely. Together? That depends on how well we learn to forgive. Olympus knows the troubles that can be had when you have forever.

Yes, we must learn to manage these pesky grains of sand. I asked once if I could place an entire desert in our hourglass – Perhaps we’d have time to digest; To find room for those desserts you always wanted. I remember when you spent the whole day running errands to make one that day. Oh goodness, it was sweeter than laying in bed after accepting that you just don’t have it in you to get up quite so fast – The last grain slipped by while I waited for an answer. I’ve never much enjoyed waiting since.

It all goes downhill at some point. Things have to come down. That’s the way it works. I know I’m a broken record, telling you this again, but what do you expect to come from this high? There is a come down at the end. Maybe we we can land softly, for sure you go back up – How many times can you stand back up with me after hitting the ground?

What will you drink at this divide? Is it me or will you kneel to the well?

I Broke Once & Couldn’t Help But Stay Open Mouthed To This Universe’

You feel that energy? Are you awake? Do you have any prior engagements? Should we get going or are we young right now? Shouldn’t we talk before experience hardens what we think we know? Wouldn’t it be a shame to find we are both wrong and everything we argued took an unnecessary toll? Bless this, Bless this – Can eternity teach us to let go? You ever observed the way two people can grab hold of a shared vision, and ride that trail all the way down to its blaze of glory?

Won’t you see me? Stay in faith,
Don’t I give the reason;
Feel this love and hate create the seasons,
To think that we’re blooming,
Something beautiful, spring should be soothing
doomed to glory, song of Achilles
Devour the world and call it leaving
Part the sea and call it bleeding,
Imagery too strong, put you on the ceiling
I’ll be burning at the stake,
Baby won’t you put out my flames

It’s painful when I get into this state; Oh are you worried about me? Do you want to make some mistakes? I am not always opposed to doing the things you like, but every now and again I want to get on your nerves. Yes, I want to stand between all those synapses, spread my wing span and grab hold of them like I was the fucking conductor – I want you shocked – I want you hurling lightning bolts at me like you, goddess, were the usurper of Zeus himself. I want you to jolt me. Light me up in that labyrinth so all your lost thoughts might find their way to your tongue; And like a lightning rod send them straight down into my soul.

Oh girl I’m so loaded
Oh girl I’m so stoked and
I could really use a hand,
Sistine chapel, reach for man,
I’ve seen souls worse off than you,
As for me I have no clue.
Committed crimes I should of knew,
burned down bridges
Along side of you.
What’s the point,
Shouldn’t have shown you the vantage.
Now in the end you’re claiming I did all the damage

There’s a lot of things I don’t let you see. I’m not protecting you, I just think that some things you’re to find on your own, and it’d waste both of our times and energy; Maybe even stir a few things best laid to rest. I won’t stop you, but I won’t assist poor etiquette. Everyone wants more from you, why can’t we just be people, why does this have to go anywhere outside of where it is? Why can’t we just kiss to see where we land? Why can’t we just hold hands? I just want – No, that’s my concern now. I want, when I should be fine with nothing – Let’s just sleep before I lead us, with your permission, down the wrong path – Always ask before you reach for more.

I bet you feel that,
I’m about taking it over the edge,
From flat-lined,
Hear that gasp
It’s your second first heartbeat
I’d be slightly disappointed
If I saw you in the morning
Since you think you know me,
Got me all figured out like your life;
You think I am a monster – I’ll bite your neck.
The things you’re seeing are not all the pieces!
I welcome you to this party
But I see you still avoid me.
You romanticize all that other crap,
They put it to music and you lose your pants
That shit gets real and you close off
It’s wild how earlier I was drinking, drunk in love.
Now I’m driving, down on you is a dead end,
How intricate are your bed sheets?
I bet these are the expensive panties
I’m eating good now: It’s a lifestyle
It’s all too short to not be the better man
Really you’re so petty it amazes me.
Rather build a bridge to the middle of the ocean.
Here’s a hundred I’m not sticking around for breakfast.

I’d say it’s time to bloom, but I’ve still got more coming for you

I Could Be Dangerous Or Just Your Daydream

Old flows still golden

Dirty Window Pane Poetry - An Experiment

She can sing to me till I melt into the seat leathers of the universe baby

I’ll write while she bites my neck,
Only the true death will do for me

I’ve got pink blossoms floating on,
Take off your songs my deep love,

Put on your heart strings, I can pull em;
Let down your hair some, hard drive,

We’re in a place the average reach for,
so go ahead and get down on the floor
Load up your bearings,
you’re the Cardamaro to my Orange Bitters and Scotch

I’ll bring you down on the rocks,
Unfurl your locks across the dock

Making love before we make it out of the waters.
Now we’re on the shores with a star cover blanket.

Jelly fish drifting along your skin – I could cover you in sweet stings,

But I’ll just lay beside you and pull you like the moon does.

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I Lost My Mind Trying To Be On Yours

And that was my mistake among many. I went and lost something in a time I couldn’t afford to be without. It crossed over the fissures with certainty that it could always leisurely stroll back the way it had found.

I’m a risk taker. And the things I saw were in no way worth what I lost. And I don’t think you should be damned to burn just because you misplaced something for a time

I make a special case for those who’ve lost a soul in their lessons, the pull of curiosity was far too much to declare them demons; Hardly are they worse than children who had to take a drink. How can one be blamed for a thirst they could not slake? Like Dumbledore, they had no choice but to lap to the last sip. And I know they will spend long enough looking to reconcile the fall with what they were able to come away with; In some measure of time they may even reunite, at least in part, with what was severed. It is only a matter of collecting the kindling and kindly applying the process before a spark will start back up the fire needed to reignite the blaze.

As for those who’ve lost the mind, well it’s a different case, with varying degrees. If you’re comprehending still, then you haven’t lost it too bad; And with some quiet labors one should be able to regain a stable flow – You shouldn’t question why you did what you did at each turn, since it will only get you stuck in a loop of doubts. That is a very long, and potentially endless route back to what you’re looking for. If you resolve to go with that method I will say goodbye to you here; I won’t be waiting for your return nor will these words.

If you accept that you know your mind, and do not doubt its reasons, regardless of poor placements, then I advise you take up work; Use your hands. In them you hold the key to a vehicle that will take you to your conclusions. In them you have found what you are looking for, no matter what they hold.

It’s always a peculiar thing to lose

In the palm of yours I followed long lines through mystical domains of drought and plenty; In the valleys of your back I found only the most gorgeous river banks and beds. I would tell more, but that is not for here – It was a grand adventure, and I can’t say that like it, I’ve had too many.

In my own palm I skipped the line and broke all the rules. Although it was a crime punishable by death I gave myself a stay of execution; When I get around to it I’ll draft the pardon, but for now I’ll harvest these blue moons and gentle tunes

It’s Very Hard To Be Soft

I don’t want my words to be taken as anything other than a story. But I can’t help it if these ones happen to be a list of realities, and truths that have devoured me entirely.

I love her: I admit what I’ve been lying to myself about on and off for months.
I confess it was far too easy to be more than fond of this kaleidoscopic sunrise against the grey-scale I’d begun to see the world in. I had will left; I still had things I could break open and use the insides of for pigments, but to say any of it could put color back into my eyes like this was far beyond my capable imagination. We collided, and in the aftermath of the crash I couldn’t help but see everything in a mix of vivids. When colors start growing in all the corners, and climbing up the shelves reaching for the sky, it’s mad to believe in anything not changed by the contact.

In this life we all start a degree of blank, with a few spurts of color to ensure curiosity for at least some slice of a wider world. Many of us hold our color, some see their’s run, while others take on the hues of those they touch. There are, however, those who can’t help by their own existence to concentrate, and expand colors; To experiment, and even begin to paint the things around them to be a bit more captivating. Maybe that’s all I’ll say on that. I already see things I’ll never view the same; And I know I like it that way.

How do you do it? How do you stay afloat? It’s something you just learn to do as you relax. Take it as it comes, and really forget what worrying is. Just do what you do, and eventually you’ll realize the entire time you’ve been living.

It pains me when there is nothing I can do. Seeing her welled up, when she should be light and free to dance, I like when she dances even just a step or two; She lights up, and I am taken like the crowd by prima ballerina! Yes it pains me to hear her speak of such sad things in which no mortal has power over, only power to be at peace. It’s existential, but the discomfort and discord is as real as the blood on the hands of diamond dealers. I may not cure the sick, nor give any guidance to the lost. I can only hold a flame to joy, and hope that I have not tarnished its glimmer.

What man was I before I set off to shape my spark like a craftsman style bungalow with beautiful deck and flanking trees, wrapped by troves and of course a grove of citrus and sweet fruits alike; Amidst bursting garden, from which creativity would pluck the freshest herbs and vegetables ever smelt or tasted.

What man was I before discovering that if there is one thing a woman can not stand, it is to see a man lay idle while she does not, which moved me for the beauty of seeing her ease while she labored in her tasks – Now of course I could still stand to move more – but I am more than I was before

What man was I before when I would not slow to notice the day, like a pause for the sun, or the beauty, a cat that wanted to play – Certainly not nearly one as patient as today

What man was I? The question I answer, one more lost than I have determined, Yes I have grown in many ways.

I have lived moments that have changed me forever. Five-ever it seems, I’ll be able to tell you what I since have thought of different and changed for the best.

Tool Box Love; Guess Who’s Screwing

I guess I don’t know what happened.

I blinked and everything came unraveling. I think I had some sort of accident that left me numb, left me closed off from my natural rhythm. She wanted me to read my poetry at a coffee spot where a bunch of people did that kind of thing. I said of course, of course I would show up and read some wild shit they never heard before. Her eyes lit up – She was hesitant to speak on what any of mine meant – But she knew she wanted to be a part. Ironically she’d come to be bastioned within them before she had even known that she possessed the desire. I started drafting the fortifications before she was able to draw any curtains; Another odd chapter to be fleshed out of a man who was convinced he had been hollowed out.

I will carry you,
I will, carry you.

I’ve always felt blessed to be able to feel people’s tensions. I never read too many books because I was busy reading the words not on any page – I know things I shouldn’t, I know things before they come into the picture.

I lived to never put up any walls, I welcomed the truths even if the pain would have me coiled up. The vulnerability is something I wanted to know fully for when the time was right, and now it’s clear the time to act is past; The time to open the cage is here. I no longer smell what fear had lingered dear, I only smell the blood stirring, and the sweet rivers.

And it’s on our minds, question unavoidable, why have I stayed so long, when we know the cards on the table – There is no royal flush in this hand, I’ve swept the floor and I know what I’m looking at. Oh that was vicious, I’ll admit it; You shall learn to know that if our time on this earth is so little, faking love shouldn’t take much of it.

I’m missing everything you say,
It’s not important what you stay for;
The sink is overflowing,
but no one is turning off the handle.

The thing with dark haired girls is that you always find their hair in your bed, whether they ever lay in it or not.


Wisdom of Watkins – 1

Do you just not want to kiss some?

“Most I don’t want to kiss, If I could fuck girls and not kiss them, It’ll be great; Because I only enjoy doing it with someone I like. Me and you are talking all our sadness out this weekend – Every day is our weekend. We both need it.” – Watkins, On Me and You.

Despite our feelings, we divest ourselves. We give in reluctantly and it’s like screeching tires as the brakes are slammed, and with all the signs of danger, we just shirk a little as if it’s nails on a chalkboard-Even though we’re headed for a pileup.