four hours into the day out on the road
morning was unusually cold
no explanations until dawn
no word of wisdom at all
i just got them home safe
with no mention of the mistake
which woke me from dormancy
and made me give into teenage stupidity
but they got away with it
i’m surprised, i’ll admit
and though i’m happy i had something to give
that was an experience, i’d rather not relive.
and just a few nights before with no place to be
i found myself at the lake
watching ripples the wind created float away
like the remainder of my summer days
but the night grew cold
and my thoughts turned sour
so i decided to go home
and get lost in movies for a few hours
it helps me make sense of my own life
and listening to m.k. always makes the words flow
so this is my shameless plug for ghosts
because i love the way he sings through his teeth with eyes closed
yeah, friday night i thought that things might be looking up
but how wrong i was
this week turned out to be totally fucked
i tried to sleep through the storm
but the thunder wouldn’t let me
the thunder wouldn’t let me
my thoughts are like ripples created from the wind
i have no power over what direction they flow
but i wonder how many other poets are inspired by the same late night air
and yet, even though i’m a deep thinker, i cannot deny
that all this week the only thing it takes to turn me on
is hearing someone speak
i think it’s ‘cause i’m so utterly discontent
everything supposedly tangible seems so damn blurry
it all just blends together into one big mess
but hearing people speak has a way of bringing it all back into focus
and i’ve come to the realization that maybe my eyes are just tired
from watching life speed past
and my mind is crashing from sleep deprivation
and i think i just want a break for a day
i want to rest my bones on one of jupiter’s moons
scatter my ashes on saturn’s rings
then wear them all around my fingers
just so i can always remember
that there are things and people that i can’t change
sometimes, there just isn’t a damn thing i can do
like the storm that refuses to cease
i just have to wait for the clouds to drift
but the one outside my window has been playing target practice
for about an hour
like music for the deaf i see it sing to me
songs of anger and songs of loss
and though it’s the light in the dark
it seems so heavy
and despite the ominous appearance
i suppose i understand that heavy is merely the cover fee
for thinking such sinister thoughts
but that doesn’t mean
i have to be happy with it.
i’ve been letting things get away from me again
things like the mess in my room
the laundry in the bin
the truth in my mind
and the words on my tongue
and i can’t be honest unless there is water around
my mood changes with the songs on shuffle
so my smile is up to fate
but i’ve been losing faith
and i don’t know why
maybe it’s the weather and the lack of natural light
maybe it’s the pending company
maybe it’s the mess i’ve made
or the fact that that i don’t remember how it happened
it’s the name’s i’ve forgotten
and the shit i’ve stolen
it’s the lies i’ve told
and the life i’ve never lived
it’s the advice i give
and the hypocrisy of who i am
because life is supposed to begin with knowledge and understanding and love and light
or is that how it’s supposed to end?
is the middle supposed to be this dark?
and i’ve been saving loads of cash
at least in relation to how many hours i work
still i don’t have lots of money
and i rip through my free time
as if it really came so easy
lately i’ve been much too lazy and clean
even though i know i’m creative and i don’t mind getting dirty
and i am known for being able to levitate in order to meet the needs of any crisis
it is second nature to rise above the smoke
and make something of the ashes
and when all else fails
i pray for health and sunlight and freedom
at least i used to
cause these days
i’m much to interested in my own needs
and i only imitate sincerity
but i have a new manifesto
i try to live by it’s ten rules
but i’m pretty sure i’ve all ready broken the first one
and my only excuse is that i don’t know who i am
because i don’t know what i want
and that makes me sound pathetic
maybe this is just momentary dissatisfaction
chances are that’s so
but who knows anymore,
who knows?
maybe tomorrow will be better
i’ll wake up feeling light
i’ll drink my coffee and go to work
i’ll feel accomplished, just a little bit
for completing the task at hand
and spending my morning doing something productive
maybe tomorrow all these flashbacks of the depression will be in remission
maybe if i’m lucky they’ll just be gone
because i am not my thoughts
and my thoughts are not who i am
but sometimes i can’t help but wonder just where they come from
and why they end up in my head
i’m waiting for the storm to come
and it feels like that’s all i do these days
i’m waiting for the street lights and the bolts
sometimes i have this morbid thought
about how the world would change if i died today
and i wonder if my unpublished manuscript that sits on my floor
would end up in the hands of every one searching for a good story
i question if my absence makes a deeper impression than my being
if the memory of who i am is larger than the truth
i wonder what i’ll leave with you.
i am waiting for the thunder and the lightening
to wake up the night
i am waiting to be saturated
i am waiting for that drowning feeling that i’ve learned to love
i‘m waiting for all my selflessness to pay off some kind of karmic debt
but i think i am just wasting my time
so i’ll climb into the bed that i’ve made
the bed military men wish they made
the bed laced with itching powder
then i’ll scratch myself to sleep
i never want to be a factor in anyone’s decision making
don’t want to spoil the fun or the happiness of others
so i bit my tongue a little harder
open my ears and arms a little wider
i am a vessel !
i am a vessel ?
i am a vessel .
damn, why am i a vessel?
why’d i get the part of the catcher of the storm?
why’d i get the job of the janitor?
shit.
when did i start this whole self pitying bit?
i’m waiting for the storm to come
i’m waiting to be ripped wide open again
i’m waiting for the thunder and
i’m waiting for the lightening
i had all of my answers on a napkin from the café
but i gave it away to the one i already let get away
another lesson learned, the start of another book
you would think that i’d get it by now
you’d think i would
i’m waiting for the storm to come.
I love watching tomorrow become today.
that moment where the clock strikes 12:01
because no matter how tired I am when I rub sleep from my eyes when the sun is up
at least I know that I was wide awake in the hours when the day arrived
but I greet every new day alone with the luminous glow of my computer screen
and in these silent beginnings I forget the difference between dreams and reality
and I would swear on the rest of my sanity that I saw the sky
hanging onto power lines for dear life
as if without a constant flow of electricity, it would lose its spark
but it was wilted still, hanging below the tops of the trees
it took all of me not to reach up and steal a piece
but who am I to be vying for a slice of the sky
I wish it were time for bed, I think I’d feel better than
but only 2 am brings the peace of mind I need to float off to sleep
and find myself washed up on the shores of a dream
where the water is made up of two parts happiness and one part oblivion
and the air is sweet as summer love
but I am the echo of a school night
calling myself home while the sun’s still up
shining a light on all the apologies i never spoke
and regrets turn on like street lights at the end of the day
illuminating the road ahead of me
like reminders of what not to do
but who am I to be vying for another second chance
and when I wake in the morning
I’m indifferent to mirrors
reflections never tell the truth
they just make blemishes harder to spot
my life is one long day-mare
interrupted only by dreams of a life I’ll never live
cause I’m a sinner by nature
and a default liar
I’m aching to come clean
shower in holy water and be reborn with a new layer of skin
so I can hide the scars of where I’ve been
but who am I to by vying for God’s good graces
‘cause I see more evil than love and that’s something I can never understand
I used to wear my heart on my sleeve but someone’s arms were colder than
mine so they took my sleeves away from me
that’s why I carved my heart into my thigh and threw the flesh into the sea
I figure my heart will see something to ease my worried eyes
and settle my stomach into a Philadelphia future, a cheese steak state of mind
a fire breathing dragon decision, a screenplay, playwright ,right story, right character, right choice,
good change, spare change, ever changing, starving artist, trunk space, less space, who needs space?
red pen, napkin paper, made up word maker, roadside, curbside, weak side, strong side, peace side, trust side
believer that there is hope underneath the doubt
hope, the bottomless pit of possibilities, anticipation, forward motion, wish upon a star or maybe a satellite because there is no difference anymore
they all look the same from down here we panic all the time about time and the lack there of
down here we trust in gravity to keep us grounded and bring us love
down here we swear to god that we mean it
only when fingers are crossed behind our backs
cause down here we like our lies and trust our enemy’s opinions more than our own
down here we only want honesty when it sounds pretty, looks immaculate, dresses appropriate and makes us feel good
down here we lie lie lie like to overprotect, overexpose, over promote, over kill, over do
down here we all have eyes in the back of our head
it’s called hindsight
and we rely on it to teach us what went wrong
always what went wrong
never what went right
that’s why I write and spit and speak and bitch and grow and learn and teach and make a wrong turn and take the long way home and wish and hope and doubt and feel
I believe in change and I believe in trying
and I believe that when you put the two together that anything is possible
cause change is trying to break through and get through but we won’t let it through cause we aren’t trying to change
we aren’t trying to hear it or believe it we aren’t trying to see it
and that makes me see sick
cause all I can do it see it pass us by
and I hate gravity for not allowing me fly
cause I can’t catch up to it on foot
and I don’t have enough change to get me in the air
so I’m stuck here writing at my computer chair
waiting for something to happen
