Well Don’t Get Lonely Now

Music to watch boys to, it’s something a certain type of girl swallows;
But my eyes don’t follow

I am afraid there is nothing here for you to take;
With you there is a do not disturb sign over the door to the party
and I’m dancing, all by myself it’s euphoric — You’re there,
but off in the distance.
A plush and comfortable space littered
with shattered mirrors and empty bottles.
I don’t drink, really I don’t unless it takes me
someplace worth disappearing to;
a matte black room with gold trim
keeps all the noise outside – and whatever we do, inside

Wish I may, wish I might — Really do what I ought tonight.

I can’t keep track of it all, you disaster, you ballroom head turner
In practice, you dance alone, but imagine that people are watching.

With yourself, in solitude are you lonely?

The second you reach out someone’s hand is there for you,
although a hand with intention is not what you are seeking.
So you sit back, pretty high, on what you believe to be a throne.
You don’t recognize it but entitlement forces the image in your mind
that every seat is a throne. Every stare is thus unqualified and non-deserving of the art you unveil. You feel superior, empowered to take back what you believe has been usurped by a quiet observer’s glance over the courtyard common grounds. A garnish, you must get something more from those beneath you
else you can not feel whole,

And when they aren’t watching? When by their own self acceptance and love they choose to look through you… what then?
Who will you be in that moment?

You’re The Sun In My Morning

Is there light? With the shade drawn you’d never know. And that isn’t a shot at your ability to apply the proper techniques while shading. I had to say it before you started analyzing far too deep into the trenches again. Sometimes people just dig holes, love, they dig holes not to bury anything, nothing to hide. They dig because it’s in their nature; Look how you dig.

Come to me for us,
Come to me for us,
Because if you don’t come,
Something has to let up

Wrists for a powerful stature. Weak wrists can’t hold anything. Tied up or let loose.
Your hands do all the speaking I need, and your wrists don’t let whisper slip. If I were any bit of the rage I’ve decomposed I’d have a few lashings, roared up and resulting in quivers. Sage and nothing else. You are very sage.

I’ve been really a ghost,
That’s not fair to the ghosts I’ve met
I’ve been less than present,
Ive been trying to escape,
You know me I care
But I feel the reveal,
The hidden sketches
The tightest chest
Breathing is all I can do
You’ve given me so much
I admit now I can’t hold it,
At this time I don’t have a reading

All your chalk should be smeared, what essence I’ve felt smearing chalk, washed together we are now our cleanest. And smoke, just enough smoke and ash to understand the danger of this talk. What is of greater importance; What has taken place, or the potential that still has to pour out? Rain washes it away, but we go where the rain goes and that’s a long cycle to be patient for.

Who cleans the rain? Well the Earth does, and we are in part that body of land and water.

Walks In The Dark

Well aren’t you a pretty monster.
That’s a wild vine you’ve got strangling you.
Choke her? Are you wearing a choker?
I don’t like your new choker

You’ve got to decide what you want to nourish your body with. Oxygen isn’t your favorite in times like this. Is this too dirty for the gods? Well they can close their eyes or suck it. Sacred is how you touch something; vile are the things we won’t. It doesn’t matter how pristine your facade is, some will still be repulsed by you.

Grotesque is only in the nature of a person’s views.

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.


I’m Not Sure You Understand

Hands on her pelvis, telling me to do whatever I want;
Telling me to go at it and use you like you’re a rag.
I’m telling you I hesitate because there is a monster;
A wild animal that the man can’t control – Terrible
If the inhibitions get removed there’s no telling
The man is a complicated beast, conflict all underneath
The things you don’t see, the checks and balances,
The hungers within, baby I want it all, and I can’t run away.
So here we are and I’m feeding those demands

She asks what it is I write about, and I just tell her real shit, and made up shit;
So anything really. She laughs and I don’t see the joke, but fuck if I care at all.
The truth is I write about the people I fuck, and I wonder if I’ll ever feel enough

I think that she likes me, ignites me,
I ruined her study schedule in one night since she asked please;
They told me to take the safe route,
Well this is a detour – Caution to the wind
Can’t stop thinking about me and the late ride
That’s unfortunate,
because for me it was just an early morning traffic slam
And now I’m through, and cruising man

Nobody compares, nobody is you, so leave with that knowledge
because I’ve got things to do

Parents don’t like when you’re out getting pipe;
Working them late nights every night,
But I’m all about it baby

The Urge For Magic Is Forever

You can’t put it down and walk away for good;
You know, it’s only being overlooked!
The key is the palm of your hand;
Let my finger tips quietly explore them,
And trace the spells of imagination.
Soon you’ll know the gift you’ve been holding

– Open up! –

The woodland sprites have laughs that are ripe to crack
How much joy would you cast on me?
Don’t you know that you’ve got it like that?

You see everything here is based on systems; And the systems of this place do a great many things for man in his pomp, but each of these systems get things a little bit off, each system is skewed to the side just a little bit. When you add up all those little bits, things start to become quite mad; Don’t they all just howl of madness? With all the things their rank and file provide, they still can’t seem to settle down without barking. Still they insist: stand here, only eat a bite after the person to your left has placed their fork, do not stay up past midnight, and never leave your bed in the night’s hour. Oh I can smell the scrutiny, the fear that something might be found!

Out here you should abandon those systems. You aren’t here to do what you’ve been doing in the square – You’re here to breathe for the sake of it, not to live, but to feel.

The threats of your city are unlike the forest; For I have known many dangers in the wild, but as vicious as they are, they have healed the scars inflicted by high walls, and vile psychosis – It possesses a voracious virility – Even when the fires came and the rain did not fall. Even when this body caved like a secret that came down from the mountains and left your lips. The wild joy of flesh, of bark and bite, of claw and the climax, brought me back to base so I could soar once more. Yes the forest runs deep through the dirt, and through your veins; Yet what can it do for those afraid of blood and sweat?

You don’t get to turn it off – Waking up is the only sentence.

Look What Happened

What a dire responsibility to hold the wheel – I nearly dashed the ship up on the rocks. It wouldn’t be the first time though; Didn’t have a way out that round. Can I say I held on as strong as I could when you looked me in the eyes? Yes – The weak look away because it’s easier. I don’t believe the destruction really gets to me anymore. Do I prefer it? I can’t say I do anymore than the king who must remove a man’s head because the law is the law. I wish you could have kept your shoulders, but really you can’t go changing institutions. Just remember what can someday grow from the dirt – Magic is a patient thing.

I’ve been at this game of push and pull for a while, and I know how it goes – We both go down and when she comes up I might be thinking about you or 48 other people which doesn’t make it any more or less. This is just how we get through the pages of the story, it’s no different from what anyone before us rolled. No one escapes the revolving doors. Once our back foot leaves the dock, the ship sets off and we don’t ever come back. Magic is a forward moving energy, it never treads in reverse; It is always certain.

They tell me without a moments hesitation that I should do this till my end, that if I were to stop, the very act of not continuing would be punishable by death. It’s quite a paradox because to draw from where I do is already a sentence of the very abrupt type.

I swear I’ve got no filter, and the colors are starting to smudge – bleed – It’s all running.

Please wake me up before you go. I really can’t stand the scent of the lows, the empty places I’ve slumped into when I’m out. I need a little more, but time has allowed all that’s destined to be funneled in. Maybe there is some overflow; Magic leaves traces, spillage, all over the place. One just might be able to trace it back to the source.

I don’t think that I can control it –  I know I can

The Magicks Don’t Go Quietly

I’ve been plagued – An illness runs deep in us all
It often feels like I’m being swallowed by an overwhelming lack of air
I forget to breathe, but even when I remember;
There isn’t enough for me to snatch up

None of us want to be this way…
We didn’t cry out to the world with our first gasp asking for it – No,
The magic runs deep, and no one teaches us how to channel it.
It’s there in womb, in your cells at the instant of your conception.

How do I know? I don’t have to know, it’s a feeling, and you feel it.
I don’t want it! I don’t want to go where it leads me.
Oh but child it is not leading you anywhere
You are the one lost; Not going where you feel yourself propelled towards.
All your essence moves where you desire, yet you have stayed here
How terrible it must feel to be torn from the inside out
by nothing other than your own unrealized beauty trapped within

I will cast it out, I know I have the heart to find the wild!
How did it become so dim, why did I blame the whispers on wind

It’s not something you cast out
This is something you unleash.