Beneath the heather, Under her breath, Behemoth... Never. But demons forever: Dreams of perfection, Peaceful agendas, Deeper connections, Traded for equal attention. You always had mine forever, Free from aggression, Free from unpleasance, Free from pretending, Free happiness forever. That's not what you want? Beneath a sweater, Under her breath, Again, another. So she says, Free from justice ever, When it comes to affection. So she never opens up, Free, of attendance, Free, hand percussion, Free, for jackals and buzzards, Until they see something better.
Carefree, on hemp seed, A puzzle, along with hep C, Treated like edge pieces, Touched first, then only seen. 26 ounces to freedom, Buried under flowery teachers, Empty encounters, and fools either. Cartoonish freedom, Act II, Scene I, Julius Caesar, You learn through teamwork, To hate what you love, To harm your equals. What, beyond commerce, makes poorer people? Judgement in the form of evil, Husbandry, broken femurs, Leaders, in court of reason. And probably threesomes too. But when Gordon hears a who, I never leave a room, In fact, I totally approve., Like I was told a deeper truth.
What matters most, when writing a book? Followers, forewards, then crying a wolf. What flatters most, when writing a note? What do you think? Yes, maybe, or no? But what matters most? Peace between war? People you know? You're not beyond greed of the sword, But you're beyond breathing of smoke... I really feel sorry, and fear on reproach, It's not the party, and people, you know? It's that we hardly ever spoke, I feel closer to death than a dreamboat. But, you're beyond breathing of smoke, I really feel sorry, for fire upon the roof. You're not beyond greed of the sword, But you're beyond letting me know. So, this is how it goes... What matters most, when writing a book? Survival, reprisals, the life that was took. Who chatters most, with somber looks? Violent rioters, petty drunks, Armed with popular science. He said different horizons, Dressed in the same wools.
Macho dancer, nacho boy, Follower, borrowed language, Patterned, upon another land. They call you boy, not a man. Hollow laughter from the distance, Borrowed valor, from deep sadness. Thirty seven candles later you visit, Sorrow, passion, anger, business, All over a taco salad? I thought you had charisma? They say your life, not your plan... Also talent, not what you had. Abscence, between smashing. Not pathetic and sad, Crippled by lattice fences, Under another mask. Actually? They call me often, I'm in demand. Another sunset and other bands, People are as carbon is to plants, Commerce is to banks, Son is to a dad.
In my arms, your arms, You talk, then I talk, But that life is long gone. For a list of things you are: Love of fine art, Love of my arms, Love for my mom, Love, from wild mobs, Hate for me deep in your heart. Does that, to you, seem honest? Pleas, bargains, Over t-shirts, waterbottles, Street artist and colleagues, In trap houses on Mary. Does that, to you, seem honest? They sleep under pizza boxes, Can never play in concert. For a list of things you are: Nothing like you were, Nothing in your arms, Nothing for the club, Nothing from your heart.
Dry fog, fight songs, In my arms, your arms, You talk, then I talk, But that life is long gone, A dry cough on a live vlog. What was it I lost? The right to be what I was? The fight to be what I'm not? From my thoughts: Fuck off. For a list of things you are: Love of fine art, Love of my arms, Love for my mom, Love, from wild mobs, Hate for me deep in your heart. Does that, to you, seem honest? Pleas, bargains, Over t-shirts, waterbottles, Street artist and colleagues, Live in trap houses on Mary St. Does that, to you, seem honest? They sleep under pizza boxes, Drunks, who can never play in concert, What was it I lost again? The right to be what I was? To fight to live and die on a cross, Live life on a cot? Instead, I'll climb the hill to the top.
Dance steps, Alarms set, Ten ten to ten to ten, Best friends, resume routine, Best friends, concerts again. Leg lift, foot stamp, deep bend, Ten ten to ten to ten, Ten ten to ten to ten, Dreams about drumkits, Twenty minutes of bliss, Then again, sleep in my bed.
In Her Dreams Everyday she grew more cynical, Forewarned in the way he spoke. 'What makes trees grow? Speaking indignantly? Lazy, form english is what bees know. Maybe there is more, maybe not. Leaves, and lace upon her form, Leers and mistakes on a forum, Leaves and paces about a home. Lady Clare, is this what you wish for? Mais oui, upon meeting, she says, but may we not once she sees him again. She begs, making peace, but, maybe not. What is under the stars, outside of the bar, Yet above us all? In her mind, her. But, actually, God. And he sees her like I see her: Alone by herself, just of her mom. Lo, girl, grate your feet, arms to nothing, Cognizant, you can see what's coming. So, use a word to cut deeper, I mean, Maybe there is more, maybe not... Say please, and release the lions... If a cognate speaks of alm, as always, Bet a fool falls, autumn again, as always, Winter follows. Bees, on their belly, in a playful sense. Wallows about woods and streams. Striped appearance, demeanor, feelings, He exits the scene with grace and dignity. Asking the same, but bees scream, race, As always, it's just the way things be. Swallow a mouth full of eggs, and honey, Forward, fundamentally things are different. Not just you and me, for everyone that sees us. The courts just take up space, mostly useless, And friends never show up to court you, bee, They treat you differently. You are less than me, because you are less than nothing, She says, and places her hands to the sun. Youth burning away at her bloodied stumps, Speaking in fear of a beast that runs, jumps, Eating the bunnies she dreams about...
though it has been so long, i have not forgotten you. i have searched for you among the crowded shelves of bookshops, the cobbled displays of libraries, the take-one-leave-one boxes scattered through town. i have dug deep in my jacket pockets for the notes and coins needed to take you home with me. i have cradled you close to me underneath my coat while i am waiting for the 6:58 bus. i have found you in tulip bulbs peeking above the soul for the sun, late august thunderstorms that pelted our new apartment, the january wind that brings ice and chapped hands. you have made sure your spine stands straighter when i roam through each aisle, saturated and dewey with books. you have pushed the dimes and nickels into my grasping fingers so that we may spend our time together that much quicker. you have squeezed me hard as we step off the bus at 7:34. you have flung yourself through the sky and earth to find me in the smallest of stolen moments. you kiss my hands and my head and flush them rosy with emotion. you have not forgotten me either, it seems.
What was I to be? A hive of bees? I see. Time; clouds. Sky; crowns. Cries, foul: "I'm tied down." She said as I vied for relief. Time, dreams, Lies, deceit, "I'm drowning". Pleas, Screams of an ice house, Before it lies in the deep. Now... What am I to be? Composer of songs, Giver of feelings? What is high to a beast? Fire, disease. What is mine. Like piles at the keep, Rivals final meetings, Some spend life on things. I, much like a beast, Divide things in half, Decide, with a hand, rights to be. So, What was I to be? Probably nothing. Feeding my cows, starving, Alike to the sea. Some sing in the choir, Some sit in the seats. Some write, despite reason, Until, like an ice house, They find reasons to leave.
Meaningless draught, meandering feeling, Bar talk, believe not the sweet whispering, Thinking things talked in the deep darkness, They aught, talk turns to action, They are what they are. Sinking stone, mephitic toad of the ocean floor, What does the heart wish for? Winning wars? Logistic growth? Cathartic revolt? Ownership? Satan, do you hear your kindred souls? Card or cash, is all they know. They see fawns freeze in the snow, and move on, it's things seen from a car. It's part of a laundry list of misgivings, They want what they want, They are what they are.
Big curls, bench presses, High dives into the deep end Swim laps Gettin' down with my boys Hard drugs through the weekend I feel that Bike ride through the trees See the colours change Run flat across the bay Just to tell my maynes I'm bored, ditched lessons I'm hitting up my best friends But I'll nap first Big curls, bench presses Torn bicep and a bong rip Yo, I'm good now Skateboard through the crowds Where the streets are paved Eat shit, get scraped I can feel no pain Easin' down with my boys Slow cookin' through the weekend I feel that A bit of strings, sum tings Got damn, such a feeling To feel that
“Don’t let me down”, now that’s a foolish way of thinking Response of confirmation, actions not in agreement Not very much Redeeming Like Pandora’s box you’re seeming Like bullets to the chest, I’m barely breathing Confused and in distress, was I deceived? and Was I deceiving? Were you mistaken by my distance and a lack of trust was formed Or was my token of your trust misplaced in your corrupted life form? Are you a demon? But you weren’t demeaning. You boost me up, Above the ceiling was my love Like, not love, allow me to clarify Was different, real connection But anything more than that I inform you, I deny And now I cry Mine, your were not but all of you was with me Or maybe me with you, that’s where I get confused Mistaken thinking Time, as more comes, you will fade At least that what my research say But I swear to god, my image of you gets imprinted on me more and more as I survive the day Leave me alone I don’t want you here to stay Memories in my bone Fractured when I lay Fractured when I wake Fractured me in my waist Oh what a waste A waste of my fight when all I care to take is flight All I care is me and you changed that habit Is that what lies are like? Is the purpose damage? If so you succeed because I’m more than done I’ve lost my sun Although it’s reflection on the moon is a pretty replica You set me up Trojan horse You lift me up And when things got good you sat me down Let me frown Although I hide, that feelings sound That feelings loud Those thoughts clear These eyes hold tears Those drops aren’t mild Neither were my fears So clear Ill steer for now Others won’t be allowed My voice won’t speak aloud Not truth nor words of deep Only traps for the weak, ones I couldn’t put out They were from your slope Your dope became my cloud I guess it’s, both, hello and goodbye for now. If only I knew before, how much you’d let me down.
I feel like an empty vessel cast away The only thing that hits my hull is the slap of a choppy wave I have no crew on board they all found the challenge to much The cargo I have is overflowing from deep within my hull The milk has soured & the whey of the milk is all I am able to smell I once was loved in such a way, the strength of it filled me up I know it is hard to see not that I am old & withered up The way she pulled me towards her, like there was always a rope connecting us The feeling this gave to me is far too much to describe I know that is is hard to see now that my ropes have frayed away The sails are saggy, no wind will fill them up My rudder seems to be broken, around in circles is the only way it goes I fill with dizziness, that is all too much & reminds me of the day the love went away I know I will never dare love again, this old hull can not handle it all again So I will keep going in circles seeing the same thing There is no joy, no crew to fix me up. The old milk, in the old vessel has been left on its own The stench will never leave.
I hear your voice upon the wind. It calls me, to come to you I follow the sound unable to resist like a Siren call to sailors at sea. Your eyes meet mine. The eyes of a lioness who wishes to devour me You pounce upon me and bring me to the ground onto your bed of lilac and lavender I am helpless in your jaws about my neck. Your fangs pierce deep into my flesh. Your jaws crush my last resistance. Your golden flaxlike mane falls upon me like waves of soft sea mist In my mouth and in my eyes, I look through the golden net which binds me Your lips find mine. Your tongue darts into my mouth and upon my face with the kisses of my submission. Your kisses go down my chest with your golden hair softly following behind. Your kisses rise back to my face with your hair all about me forming the net of my capture. Two breasts land upon my body like twin fawns playing in a meadow. They move and glide up and down my body. I reach to grab them, so smooth and soft You are upon me now and our bodies move like the sway of the trees in the wind. I am in you. You have devoured me. There is no more me, only you my Calypso.
They met like the first time rainbow met sun shower, wave met sandy seashore, and heart met Cupid’s arrow. They laughed like the first time green eyes gazed brown, sunup chased sundown, and chuckles met deep frown. They learned about foreign subjects on local soil, shared time in familiar toil, and explored how their lives could coil. They wondered how we two could meet and find their feet and live to eat and rinse repeat and begin again and keep the peace for family sake. She touched my heart with smile on face depositing hope of our loves deep embrace. Unlocking a gate of emotions oppressed from that bygone time cloaked in cynicism and hate. She used her power applied her grace revealing a world where nothing waits and the weak grow strong those loved and displaced. Then together we pledged to always be true to all that matters to me and to you and to guard this ethereal space.
Of stem and leaf, Love fed at ease, Of ends and meet, Of fair and sweet, When we speak of things We speak so freely, Of flesh and teeth. Shanty after shanty, See the men at sea, See the heights they reach, Lows so permanent and deep. Well, that's sweet, Yes, that means, Go ahead and feel, Just know, there is no you and me.
Debbie downer of many outcomes, Money protected against downturns, Fathered from powerful maelstroms, Freshly showered out of sleep, What is deep? What is to and from, Blue sea, who flowers their queen, Without a penny, empty bellied, 'You let them down, son' Sour cherries, as he devours many Let them down yourself, please, Out of envy, twenty thousand leagues.