SevenTwo

You picked me up when i was low

and never let me fall back down

You lifted me from the ground 

and well, you turned my life around

 

i swore to myself i would never need again

but now i don’t think i could survive without your touch

i don’t think i could rhyme without your kiss

and i can’t believe i’ve never told you any of this

Seven

I’m feeling quit sentimental

when it comes to you tonight

so I thought I’d let you know

 

I think I’ve kicked my worry

(at least for a little)

about what the future as in store

 

I’m thinking that your voice

is exactly what I need tonight

then again, being by your side

 

with the way you hold me just right 

(even if only for a little)

would do the trick, ‘cause I finally know that only now matters

 

Yeah, it’s been a struggle

and I’ll admit there were times

when I thought we were in trouble

 

but now it feels like we’re falling in love

(and not just a little bit)

we have a love more real and complex than I can convey

 

So as long as you’ll be my monkey

than I’ll be you baby

cause I’ll do whatever it takes

 

to make us great

(and not just for a little bit)

for as much time as our hearts desire.

The Beauty Within

I’m home again

back from another night spent with some friends

we shared a few bud…dy hugs

and spit some lines about all the things we love

 

And I feel like I’m ready to take flight

‘cause I’m so fucking high tonight

from the all the positive energy in this room

my adrenalin’s pumpin’ helping me speak at such a high volume.

 

Even without the mic

my voice is Chris McCandless the hitchhik…er 

thumb to the sky, backpack full of words

ready to explore the unknown despite all the hazards

 

So open your ears and quit the chatter in the back

I’ve got some poetry to spit; you might have heard that it’s my knack

I’m what’s known as a regular around here

but my style’s anything but regular and commonness is the only thing I fear

 

That’s why one day I’ll be the author to win a Grammy

and deliver my acceptance speech in jeans and a cami

I’ll be a supporting actress who receives a Pulitzer Prize

and who will knowingly take everyone by surprise

 

with my ability to steal every scene

from the star who otherwise would seem so pristine

no matter what the line

I would make it seem like it was all mine

 

My presence would be greater than the screen

causing the film to be played only in 3D to emulate my preen

still, even that wouldn’t be enough to capture my essences

since I demand all of your senses

 

when you breathe me in and take me home

so you can put your own pen to paper and build me into a poem

trying explaining why when I speak your toes begin to curl

and that’s when you’ll realize that all the truth is not truth in this world.

 

Which is the reason falsehoods can become motivation to die

and that’s the grounds for no one ever really wondering why

but they doubt my religion that preaches peace and love over guilt and sin

you may have heard of it, it’s called The Beauty Within

The Ghost of Both Keeps Me From Sleep

I’ve been having trouble

getting to sleep again.

My ghosts are back to haunt me.

Memories like misguided missions

are driving me crazy

so I’ll wear your apology around my finger

as a constant reminder of all the shit you put me through.

Isn’t that already a poem?

One about the boy who me calls his baby

when he says good night;

the boy who, despite my resistance

is willing to put up a fight.

And I remember, I remember

the night he caught my eye

and his persistent request to kiss my lips

he wanted an invitation to let him into my heart

but the truth is he’s still waiting.

And I remember the times he would pretend

to like the words I write,

back when he would come see me perform

and call me amazing.

I’ve kept your little notes

in spite of our recent distance.

And I see your ghost beside my bed

calling me back, trying to get me to rest

but I can’t help my worrying head

from wondering where this will leave me.

So I stay and write some lines

that you’ll never read.

 

Wait… now I’ve lost track

of who I’m writing this about

yet I presume it doesn’t matter

because I miss them both

and that’s what this is all about.

Have You Seen Him?

He’s glowing brighter than all of us combined;

all he has to do is play his song and sip his wine.

Have you seen him with his eyes closed while singing his heart out

Like so many times before but this time his CD is beside him

all his hard work, everything he’s been through has found its worth.

 

But there’s someone somewhere south of St. James

questioning his choices and all the shit he said.

Have you seen him, faking a smile and acting like he’s so tough.

he has new friends now to help him through the hard times

yet they don’t know him like I… did.

 

And I’m home now, somewhere in-between the two of them

not quite on top of the world, but I’m not questing it either.

I’m just wondering if I’ll ever be able to see him the way I used to

Nonetheless, I put my worrying mind to rest,

Close my eyes, and fall asleep to Ghosts.

Where Have All The Red Pens Gone?

The school board thinks we simple-minded students

find the red ink offensive

as if it’s some bloody massacre upon my test paper

or the aftermath of being stabbed in the back.

So now I all I see is purple.

Purple. Purple. Purple.

Pretty purple pulling my papers apart.

Sometimes… it’s even a pretty pink.

I makes me think of flowers in the summer time

then again pink reminds me of.. hmm… let me see

Britney! That’s it! Britney Spears!

And she doesn’t make me too happy

I mean look at her

isn’t see just a ray of sunshine?

And still… the real problem here is

the soon to be abundance of red pens

what will we do with them all?

Maybe we can just hand them out

so everyone can write there own rhymes

and eventually the red pen will be related

to love and poetry rather than big fat X’s.

Maybe it will make people lighten up again

so much that cookie monster can get off his diet

and Looney Tunes can try to blow each other up with dynamite

on Saturday mornings and not late at night.

Don’t blame youth hatred on the media

blame it on over protection.

I don’t need no purple or pretty flowers

I need the truth and I need it straight

‘cause I don’t know about you

I want my Looney Tunes

and I want my cookies too

I want the knife out of my spine

And I want my red pen back