Hey Guys, Why Don't We Speed Up the Tempo and Make it Sound Happier!
Every waking hour
spent, but never used
For all my sleeplessness
I still can't quite refuse...
This is a nightmare of a dream
gag my mouth, plug my ears
so I can't hear myself scream
Try and let go of my fears
I'm breaking by the weight
Of all the stress and all the pain
oh dear please try and understand
how much of this is done vain
[and yet I find myself longing for turmoil
A reason, to forget
something bigger to regret...]
Drift off into sleep
And let the sickness overtake me
I'm a fool to think I'd care
And I'm too dead to feel your heartbeat
So dear please disregard my charm
and ignore my crafty words
Oh I can't tell you all I've heard,
Because I'm still just so unsure
[Of what I meant]
We watched the sky
As if it's distance would
Somehow make us closer
We heard the waves
As if their breaking would
make us hold together
Oh but the sky
Grew cold and dark
And the waves
Let up lost heart
And though we tried
We could not find
The question keeping us apart
So there was you
And here is me
And all I've left
is endless sea
And we are left
with nothingness
And nothing but
Our broken dreams
My dear please understand
That when I fail, I didn't mean to hurt you
You know I've tried but can't
say what I meant, say anything
It's these things
I always miss
my passiveness
will be my end
But if you let me
I will try
Oh I will fail
But I will try
At least I'll try.
A Timeless Voyage
We began our voyage
down by the river's edge
we walked on for ages
with no sight of the end
We braved mountains and cliff tops,
and great creatures of evil
through the caves, on we marched
for the lives of our people
We go on,
as if there's no choice
with no thought
to the danger ahead
but some day,
you will hear my voice
i'll burn away
all the doubt in your head
i can't quite recall,
the last time i saw light
as the air grows thicker
and our eyes grow wide
straining to see
there, a shimmer of hope
a passage to surface
the way back home
We go on,
as if there's no choice
with no thought
to the danger ahead
but some day,
you will hear my voice
i'll burn away
all the doubt in your head
my dear, don't worry your soul
All these years we've crusaded
for a king far away,
with unquestioned faith
in his will
but i'm starting to doubt
that we'll ever be the same
i've realized our king
had no care for our lives
We go on,
as if there's no choice
with no thought
to the danger ahead
but some day,
you will hear my voice
i'll burn away
all the doubt in your head
My love don't,
cry in the night
for i wont
be gone for much longer
keep searching
the western horizon
when my singing
reaches your ears
i'll be home soon,
be home with you
Yeah, I know. He is a bit long-winded. That's why I like 'im. How 'bout we throw another of his in and move on to the next? Sound good to me, and you have no say in it.
A Simple Sonnet.
I'm amused at the repetition,
and meaninglessness we endure
conclusions drawn from superstition
they think will make us pure
we're trapped inside a cage
with quite a modest view
if all the world's a stage
we're sitting in the pews
there's so much else to see
than what they have to offer
there's so much more to be
than just another scoffer
we were made, set apart
we had purpose, from the start
I made him write a sonnet. And thus was born this beast of the east. I admit to loving it. Don't tell anybody though. If you want more of this lovely gentleman, just ask. He has no link for me to give. So sad, too bad. MOVING ON!
These next few are by a rising artist named Andrew James Stone. He is destined for greatness I tell you. Or at least a life of poverty and greatness after he dies....But aren't we all (Twirls villain moustaches.) He is based out of LA but I imagine will soon move to somewhere less sunny and more poetic. I like to imagine Seattle or Prague.
The Lovers
She cried,
as she read her poem to the class
of expressionless art students, teasing
her with their indifference. She
lamented Rene’s Lover’s, mourned
their anticlimactic kiss beneath
ill-ravened sheets until her pathetic life…
a man that never knew the existence
of a slender girl with brown hair,
brown skin, brown eyes, and a bleeding
heart– are swallowed by sobs in oil on canvas.
If I remember correctly, that one is based off a painting, but I scarce remember which one. I do know that it's titled 'The Lovers'. Now, these next three, I believe, got published somewhere but again my sad, small memory fails me. I need a new memory card...
Creature in the Boss’s Office
Pinstriped scalp. Warty knuckles. Werewolf arms. Polka dot rash covering his ass. Tree stump feet. Hamburger thighs and tattoo eyes. Fish hook claws and tattered paws. Bulbesque chest. Black cat whiskers and toucan lips. Dandruff lobes and linoleum hips. Crocodile nose. Pastel toes. Vampirecosm teeth protrude from his gums. Crab thumbs.
Fuck you asshole, he’s my son.
I'm amused at the repetition,
and meaninglessness we endure
conclusions drawn from superstition
they think will make us pure
we're trapped inside a cage
with quite a modest view
if all the world's a stage
we're sitting in the pews
there's so much else to see
than what they have to offer
there's so much more to be
than just another scoffer
we were made, set apart
we had purpose, from the start
I made him write a sonnet. And thus was born this beast of the east. I admit to loving it. Don't tell anybody though. If you want more of this lovely gentleman, just ask. He has no link for me to give. So sad, too bad. MOVING ON!
These next few are by a rising artist named Andrew James Stone. He is destined for greatness I tell you. Or at least a life of poverty and greatness after he dies....But aren't we all (Twirls villain moustaches.) He is based out of LA but I imagine will soon move to somewhere less sunny and more poetic. I like to imagine Seattle or Prague.
The Lovers
She cried,
as she read her poem to the class
of expressionless art students, teasing
her with their indifference. She
lamented Rene’s Lover’s, mourned
their anticlimactic kiss beneath
ill-ravened sheets until her pathetic life…
a man that never knew the existence
of a slender girl with brown hair,
brown skin, brown eyes, and a bleeding
heart– are swallowed by sobs in oil on canvas.
If I remember correctly, that one is based off a painting, but I scarce remember which one. I do know that it's titled 'The Lovers'. Now, these next three, I believe, got published somewhere but again my sad, small memory fails me. I need a new memory card...
Creature in the Boss’s Office
Pinstriped scalp. Warty knuckles. Werewolf arms. Polka dot rash covering his ass. Tree stump feet. Hamburger thighs and tattoo eyes. Fish hook claws and tattered paws. Bulbesque chest. Black cat whiskers and toucan lips. Dandruff lobes and linoleum hips. Crocodile nose. Pastel toes. Vampirecosm teeth protrude from his gums. Crab thumbs.
Fuck you asshole, he’s my son.
Wrong Way Out
Creatures hid themselves in the wind, their echoes seeping through the cracks in the wall once occupied by a door. It was a black night. Rain lashed against my sinking roof. I covered myself with blankets, but they ghosted through. I never saw them but I knew they were there. Creatures coffinized my melting heart, their voices possessed my soul and led me to an open door ready to lock me inside.
Creatures hid themselves in the wind, their echoes seeping through the cracks in the wall once occupied by a door. It was a black night. Rain lashed against my sinking roof. I covered myself with blankets, but they ghosted through. I never saw them but I knew they were there. Creatures coffinized my melting heart, their voices possessed my soul and led me to an open door ready to lock me inside.
The Man and His Box
Men shouted “fuck” and “shit” as the machine guns fired metal balls through the screaming wind. Blood dashed circles around my mind. Eyes, mouth, ears, nose shattered like glass. Kids fell to the ground screaming in agony and a voice inside my head laughs laughter. But how? My soul cringes at the carnage and unhinges from my body. Sweat clouds my forehead and that damn laughter says: Relax dude, it’s just a movie.
Ain't he a darling? I get the feeling he will eventually change the world. Well everyone will change the world, just some in more subtle ways than others. His, I believe, will be less subtle. Oh, and here is the link to his blog and thus access to more of his brilliance. You're welcome. http://andrewjstone.blogspot.com/2011/09/magic-cat-and-music.html?spref=fb And yes, I do realize he is an intense fellow.
Men shouted “fuck” and “shit” as the machine guns fired metal balls through the screaming wind. Blood dashed circles around my mind. Eyes, mouth, ears, nose shattered like glass. Kids fell to the ground screaming in agony and a voice inside my head laughs laughter. But how? My soul cringes at the carnage and unhinges from my body. Sweat clouds my forehead and that damn laughter says: Relax dude, it’s just a movie.
Ain't he a darling? I get the feeling he will eventually change the world. Well everyone will change the world, just some in more subtle ways than others. His, I believe, will be less subtle. Oh, and here is the link to his blog and thus access to more of his brilliance. You're welcome. http://andrewjstone.blogspot.com/2011/09/magic-cat-and-music.html?spref=fb And yes, I do realize he is an intense fellow.
Well, that is all of others poetry. I know, I know, I am lacking in the poet-friends area. What I lack in quantity, I make up in talent.
My turn. Yep, I saved the best for last. (Cue wry face) Always a good thing to do, saving the best for last, Except with Skittles, by the time you get to the good ones your mouth is all thick-sugary and tastes too much like high fructose corn syrup. Alright, well, here goes...
Make Believe (this is)
Little Robby Cottontail
was a-hoppin' in the jungle
and a spotty Mcspottypants
leopard
swung in from a vine
and ate him
up
down
and all around
so sad
too bad
sure hope
his millionannahalf
brothers and sisters
don't miss him
I bet they've forgotten about him
right about now.
Ballgame
Louis or Louie
hit the ball
with a slugger
a real slugger
that knocked it
far far away
to never ever after
and spent
the next ten
twenty
tick-tocks
Little Robby Cottontail
was a-hoppin' in the jungle
and a spotty Mcspottypants
leopard
swung in from a vine
and ate him
up
down
and all around
so sad
too bad
sure hope
his millionannahalf
brothers and sisters
don't miss him
I bet they've forgotten about him
right about now.
Ballgame
Louis or Louie
hit the ball
with a slugger
a real slugger
that knocked it
far far away
to never ever after
and spent
the next ten
twenty
tick-tocks
on the clock
talking about it all
Liar
If everyone were
to lie through
their teeth, tongues and noses
would it whistle and shudder
like a lone wolf-child
or click-clack-clatter
like claws on a typewriter
If I asked you to read this again
and tell me it was good
what would it sound like
through your teeth, tongue and nose?
If everyone were
to lie through
their teeth, tongues and noses
would it whistle and shudder
like a lone wolf-child
or click-clack-clatter
like claws on a typewriter
If I asked you to read this again
and tell me it was good
what would it sound like
through your teeth, tongue and nose?
Salmon-coloured Salmon
It's a racetrack down there
and if I were
a them or a they
I would toss in a 'baby'
and sing-song it
like old man kangaroo
But I'm not
and we're not
so let's just be
spring-summer-winter salmon
and swim backwards
up-stream
and just be so mixed up
that we turn a full circle
back
to
normal.
Oh Love
It's a racetrack down there
and if I were
a them or a they
I would toss in a 'baby'
and sing-song it
like old man kangaroo
But I'm not
and we're not
so let's just be
spring-summer-winter salmon
and swim backwards
up-stream
and just be so mixed up
that we turn a full circle
back
to
normal.
Oh Love
I would make life a dream weave
If I dared have a chance with it
I have those clumsy fingers
But I would dare it
if you'd come along for the ride
a trip to the land of Cush
and back again to wherever we were
You and I, we get along swimmingly
deep out there in the Great Green Sea
I left for a moment, just a moment
to kiss the sun at it's zenith
but you weren't there
and my heart then hung undone
so I came back to you and your arms
I won't leave if you don't
Deal?
Alright, I know there's more of me than others, but hey, I have more guns in my weaponry. Give me that will ya? Well in other news, my 'blogger fro' is growing out from it's 'normal person' stubble, I have perfected the settling of my thick, hipster glasses on my nose and my skin is stay-inside-day-in-and-out pale. I've got this blogger deal DOWN.
Buffalo Gal cancha come out tonight, cancha come out tonight, cancha come out tonight, Buffalo Gal cancha come out toniiiiiiight, and dance by the light of the mooooon.
Well, as always, Banksy is a fantastic lawbreaker, The Clash made great music and if you don't like me, follow the blog and file your formal complaint, that'll show me.
MUSIC
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