Ribbed Expression

I’ve never seen such expressive eyes in my life.
Every feeling is there.
Each tense thought,
Emotions so deep you cannot speak them,
Anger. Pain. Lust. Joy.
even sorrow.

I’ve never been able to read someone so well,
yet be completely perplexed at the same time.
If you know someone feels a certain way,
but they won’t say,
does it make it just as real?

So instead of the perpetual worry,
I wrap myself up into your arms,
lay my head against your chest
and I sleep.

True Colors of Bullshit

Your true colors,
Are that of browns and grays…murky and hazy.
I can’t see through the shit.

I’m tired of the passive-aggressive crap that people display here.
Minnesota Nice is bullshit.
No one should have to be nice,
I prefer brute honesty,
and those of you who can’t handle it,
buck the fuck up.

Not everyone is going to like you.
Not everyone is going to approve.
All that matters is that YOU approve of YOU.

Do what you love,
Fuck the rest.

Shade Plants

Do I love you?

How will I ever really know anyway?

I love so much,

that my heart stops bleeding.

I don't know how to not love,

it's simply impossible for me to do.

Take my heart,

it's yours, do with it as you please.

I'll gladly donate to such worthy causes,

after all, it is a tax write-off.

Blanketed Secrets of the Dead

What kind of secrets do the dead keep?

They whisper them to me,

strangely inviting

enticing.

Like a story, weaving in and out

of existence and time

Between the wall of the visible

and the unseen

the forever unseen

The veil that composes much to be had.

Encapsulating.Emulating.Invigorating.

The undead dream of its truth.

Composing their own lyrics and fantasies

of that which they wish to be true.

The secrets of the dead cannot be composed.

They are unseen, unimaginable, and most of all,

dead.

It’s a painting that can never be done right.

painting it over and over again

until its simply black.

the folds of its depths cannot be seen

like the glassiness of a still lake,

never knowing how deep it goes.

The other world pours into mine

through dreams, and more dreams.

Haunting dreams that are unexplainable,

sometimes they’re funny,

mostly they’re terrifying.

But only if you allow them to be.

Ethereal

As I walked past you, I grazed my fingertips to your cheeks
Just to feel the cold.
I felt your gaze upon my back
Like a dance in the moonlight,
I barely moved.
I sat across the ocean from you
upon the sharpest rock
that could cut and bruise with ease.
Your eyes flickered
as you took your last breath of ocean air
and you sunk.

Encompassing

Eyes close around the mist of a thought

Catch it before it goes

See the fantasy behind the redness of the eyelids

Let it infiltrate everything it can

Encompass the mind

Entangle the senses

Become lost in the moment,

In the restlessness of it all.

Match breath for thought, breath for thought

Slowly breathe…hold…breathe out even slower.

As the fantasy takes hold of everything else,

The breathing follows suit.

Pick up the pace, don’t get left behind!

Faster and faster,

The mind whirls and whirls.

Spinning madness and glee throughout the body

The skin erupts like it’s on fire

Tingling…soft….silky.

Touch.

Breathing out the thought escapes the mind,

From behind the eyelids, it goes.

It left little to the imagination

Yet the imagination

Is each their own.

Unhealed Wounds

Wound to wound
We suckle off each others’ blood.
Dripping down our chins,
We scratch and claw for more.
Who can we drain first?
The weak will die,
The stupid, the lame, the sick, the slow
The strong will get sick, from drinking the weak.
In the end,
Everything dies.

Cliched Bullshit

Push, shove, scratch, claw, and bite me
I am your little doll.
Bend me, break me, move me, squeeze me.
I’ll do whatever you’d like.
You see, I have no thoughts of my own.
I am simply a reflection of you.
I do all the things you won’t or can’t
You’re too stupid to do that?
I’ll take care of it, master.
You can’t take the heat?
I’ll burn for you.

I have no original thoughts,
And if I do, I know better than to say them out loud.
But the thought police will get me, just the same
I’m a corporate employee, droning on in my hell
I work this job, 9-5, so I can buy things I really don’t need.
They make me happy.
I also buy them to impress my friends!
They really aren’t my friends.

My fake friends, and material possessions
Make me feel happy because I live in a world
Where I am useless.

I am a fucking drone.

Witch

I brew trouble
miles from you, miles from me,
hoping the vapors will infiltrate the both of us.
I seem to forget that the wind shifts
all on its own accord.
I can't control it.
I can't stop it.
I can't convince it.
The vapors rise and fall,
and move in and out,
from window to window.
Poison to one.
Pleasure to the other.
But none for me
and none for you.

Colloquium

Please don't say you'll try anymore.
I can't take the waiting,
the empty
promises.
Days don't fill anew.
It's the same bullshit
press random, press repeat
you can't tell the difference anyway.
It all falls apart.
Yesterdays problems,
are tomorrow's ambiguity.
Foresight blazing,
only to foreshadow
events to come
And shit all over my parade.
(I fucking hate parades)

Don't try and fail.
It's a waste of my breath.

Omitted

Can you see it over there, shimmering?
Get a little closer, you’ll see it for what it really is.
It’s just a mirror, a very clean mirror.
The image looking back
is blurred and distorted.
There’s something missing,
a pixel here, a pixel there
Black squares mark pocks in your gorgeous face,
and you’re no longer you.

Another day you’ll have a new chance to clean it all up.
Smooth the lines, the curves, the almond shape that your eyes should be.
down, down, down

You’ll never be as beautiful as you really are.

I can't title another poem Insomnia

The psychosis that ensues
upon the realization that you can’t sleep…
…that you won’t sleep…
These thoughts bring back haunting memories.

Of times when I thought I was crazy.
When I thought I was so wrong,
and there was never a way out.

I no longer look at the clock.
I no longer wonder what may become of me
in the morning.

Time not sleeping
is the most creative time in my life.
The most productive.

Life is ENDLESS
when you don’t sleep.

The world becomes its own song,
play,
that you can change more than the rest,
because you have more time,
and more creativity.

It gives you one up on the rest of the world,
for the time being.

For how many hours I have not slept in life
it’s no wonder I’m the person I have become today.

“You think too much.”
I always believed they thought too little.
Is it possible to think too much?

No.
But it is possible to have more TIME to do such thinking.

Welcome to my home.
It’s not cozy in here.
It’s cold.
And lonely,
and never-fucking-ending.

Days blend seamlessly into night
and nights never end.

Counting down the hours to its death,
and the new life
of tomorrow.

Ambi

How could I be so stupid
Calling and never answering and finding the wrong ways to go about the wrong way
Surrounding myself with thoughts and more thoughts
Teetering…always teetering
Never tipping.
And smiling around the world, like the happiness is just something I want to get rid of
I want you to take it, please take it, it just doesn’t suit my fancy
I'm not fancy.

Yet I’ll always win you over.
I’ll always fucking win you over.
The smile is all I have to do. Maybe add a bit of eye play for you.
Expressive eyes, they say.
WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN?
Bullshit.
My eyes are my eyes, they see what they see, and they move the way they move.
My brain is expressive, it thinks by itself
I can’t even control it, it comes straight from hell.
Dancing and swarming and moving about
Nothing to stop it, not even…
Please. Stop. Me. Now.

Back to expressive eyes, that’s where I was at.
Glasses hide the things I think, at least that’s what I make believe
Heavy lids.
Did you know my left eye wanders?
I look like a fucking retard when it does.
Maybe that’s the expression you’re looking for.
You’re wishing me to be stupid.
Sorry. You lose.
I win.
You can’t keep up with me, never, no I said NEVER.
Try. You lose. Try again, I rub your face in the dirt.
Except I’d never sink that low.
Yes, again, I said never.

I love you.
And you and you and you.
I just like to make you feel like shit about it.
Yes I fucking love you, asshole.
You think I'm nice? Fuck off. I don’t care about you.

Life is about truth. Truths, rather.
About erasing the SHIT, the FOG,
That surrounds ourselves.
Encompasses our every being.
And takes over…smiles like it’s all the same…it IS all the same.
The same lies, day in and day out.
Stop me if you think I’m a liar.
I’m never a liar.
I’m a lot of things, this is true.
So many things, that you’ll never know exactly what I am.

It’s ok.
I like it that way.
Hide behind my shades of green and blue.
Hide over here, behind my lazy left eye.
Worthless piece of shit.

Peace.

Movement

Icy, cold and hard.

An immobile force.

Four feet of solid ice,

to reach movement and life.

A pool of cold tears.

Moving to the surface,

freezing over in a few hours.

History in the making.

Fucking Let Go

Jumping
just to feel alive again.

I don’t know what’s beneath me.
If it’s water, how deep is it?
How sharp are the rocks?
Are the pebbles small and smooth?

What’s more terrifying,
plunging deep into the unknown?
Or jumping directly onto an overhang with no footing?

Fear the fear.
By no means, fear the unknown.
Never fear the pain.

Accept the pain.
Love it.
Drink your own blood for supper
and lick the dirt off your parched skin.

Another Rant

“Tell me what it takes to stop this madness.”

It takes a strong person to fight this back.
It takes an even stronger person,
to let it go.

I want to cry,
I want to feel sad,
I want to let myself be.
Just be.

But I’m a machine,
a monster.
I have trained myself so well
I have successfully learned to detach everything.
Throw the emotions down the drainpipe when necessary,
because “emotions just cause more pain,
more suffering.”

Yet, that’s wrong.

Emotions don’t create pain.
People don’t create pain.
Pain just is.

The feeling that first surfaces,
the thought that bubbles up unto our lips;
To say that is freedom.
To just let ourselves be.
Breathe through it,
and just let it go
is true freedom.

Freedom from self-oppression.
Freedom from isolation,
from ourselves.

Consequential

Flowing, soft curves
Illuminated skin
Soft touch
rough hands
Hard, harsh lips
brushing my neck
Arched back

Ravenous.

Deep breaths
Mind over matter
Eyes gaze
Penetrating stare
Analyzing my every move

I don’t care.

I want you to touch me
like you mean it.

Fighting Cliches

It’s dark in here.
I never knew the meaning on loneliness,
Until I opened my eyes.

These monsters and horrors
don’t come from dreams and nightmares.
Our mind can create a shallow imprisonment,
all on its own accord.
All we need to do is give it the tools necessary
for destruction.

Tear a person down enough times,
you’ll either get a scrapper,
or you’ll get a person who’s given up.

I certainly have never been known to give up.

I’m sorry, hunny, but I’m a fighter, not a lover
and this fight is carrying on far too long
for me to continue loving you.

The same old clichés,
are knocking at my door.
Sadly, they’re very much reality right now,
and I don’t know what else to say or do.

I just gotta dust myself off and move on.
Carry my heart in my hand
and hope another fight doesn’t come along too quickly,
or it will burst in my fist.

Brush Strokes

My mind aches with longing

A need to hold my breath,

while I think this through.

The only reason I didn’t do it,

Was because of you.

The only reason I stopped myself,

Was to save your situation.

I’ll always be a scapegoat.

I’ll always think about you before me,

Whichever you I’m talking about, you.

You.

I have no sense of self-preservation,

I’m a glutton for punishment,

I’m an escapist in love,

And attachment,

And bindings.

Stuck between not just two worlds, now,

but four.

Four different lives I could potentially lead,

four different paths to choose from,

at least the paths that I see laid out in front of me.

Surely there has to be a better way.

I’m thinking in too much of a linear fashion.

It’s time to open up the waters,

let them flow in and whisk me away with the tide

into the other realm.

Let that place decide where I go,

I will listen, and I will follow.

The ordinary is so plain and boring,

my world is a film of paintings.

Flowing, in and out, of existence and time.

Moving with color and feeling,

the brush strokes create each emotion,

each facial expression,

and each tiny sense of body language.

I want my painting to sing,

I want to soar atop a mountain that doesn’t really exist,

then fly down on the thermals that I paint as I go.

Where they lead, my brush will choose,

and I will never really know.

This mess I’ve gotten myself into

is too much for my linear mind to handle.

Please proceed to ask my painting,

my song, my poetry,

what it all exactly means,

and you might receive an answer at a later date.

At the present time,

I’m flying hard and fast,

to my mountain of solitude.

Self Stabbings

What have I done?
What monster have I created within myself?

I can't allow myself to be content.
I can't let myself live with this.
And just be.

It's always something.

I hate to be bored.

How can I make this stop?

This self-sabotage,

just to get out it?

My mind is moving too quickly,

for anyone to keep up.

No one can keep up.

At least no one here,

no one within my grasp.

I am alone.

I am nervous.

I am scared.

and I admitted it.

Sounding Song

Footfalls.

Breaking glass.

Ping.

Siren.

Breath.

Footfalls,

accelerated breathing,

feel the flow in my lungs.

The pumping of my heart,

my chest rising and falling,

my diaphragm filling and emptying.

My muscles screaming.

Sirens.

Pain is life.

To be is to suffer.

Living is to die,

as Life is to breathe,

and move,

and fight.

........

I don't want it.

Any of it.

I just want to live in peace.

Numbing

Each footstep is like another escaping thought

I can't walk enough.

I can't run enough.

It won't all escape in a timely fashion.

This is what it feels like to want to implode.

To just give up on your thoughts,

because you deem them too much to take.

Typically when we get to this point,

we drink it away.

Food, alcohol, pot, cigarettes...

...whatever your numbing of choice,

it does the trick.

Do I succumb and choose to numb these thoughts?

No.

I made a choice, and it was the right choice,

but in times like these, it's too much.

I am drowning.

My thoughts are too much to function.

I have two options at this exact moment

and the right choice, I'm not sure if my body can take it.

Sometimes I just wish it would stop.

I wish I could be an idiot.

Never thinking, just moving with the crowd.

Ceasing to really exist.

But I don't like to Baa.

I don't like to grow wool

and feed the hungry wolves.

Linger

I wonder if you realize,

every time you head out the door,

that you take a chunk of my heart with you.

Each time you pour fluid toxins,

and inhale poisons that flame and smoke,

a part of me screams.

Yet here.

I.

Wait.

Like a fucking Labrador.

Waiting for you to throw the tennis ball

one last time,

before my heart fails and I collapse.

So many things to commend.

So many things to hate.

So many reasons to love,

and cry, and fight, and fuck.

Emotions cracking the sidewalks,

the weeds are starting to grow through.

They'll show their true colors

of blue and green,

after the caretaker sprays them down.

What's left?

I want to love you.

Please make it easier for me.

Please stop making me fight through this.

Some walls are too thick.

Some walls are too tall.

Some caves, too deep.

and the more you build,

the more you reach,

and each time you dig,

you might as well do it with me.

At least then I know where I'm going,

and I can put some lights up

to find my way.

Vapid

There's one thing I can rely on you for,

One thing in this world.

There will be more shallow words to follow

the bullshit you just spewed.

"Love, love is all!"

"God is love"

"Live laugh love"

You. are. Blind.

You. are. Deaf.

You are the saddest song

that plays in our ears every morning.

The same crappy love song,

that now means absolutely nothing anymore.

A broken record,

but no one uses records anymore.

Glass Walls

“Should I apologize? if what I say burns your ears and stains your eyes. Or did I crack your shell? When it falls away, you’ll see we exist as well.” –Incubus “Glass”

Interesting how the wall that is built so high is made of double pane glass, yet you seem to feel so safe. Your thoughts teeter on the edge, like that of a child caught in a tantrum. Your screams truly mean nothing, they are hardly ever even heard anymore. It’s quite tiresome, now, dealing with these fits of rage that are entirely off-base. Perhaps the thought of learning to deal with your emotions is that of a plausible one? But of course, that’s just me being a know it all.

What’s the most frustrating thing regarding the whole situation, Is that it’s making ME angry. Did you not get angry with me, in the prior, for being angry all the time? I contemplate frequently if you realize just how often you are one of the causes of this anger.

No amount of mileage or yoga can take away this burning torment in my stomach. But at least I can maintain it there (not without effort, not that I want it there). At least I don’t release these demons into the atmosphere at random intervals during the day. At least I am seeking help for these emotions.

But my emotions are 1/16 of that which you carry on your shoulders. I truly ask that you seek professional help for this issue, as the rest of us can no longer carry you. We can no longer brace that of your broken soul, the mending is quite impossible at this point.

My words have broken you many times, I realize this. There are just sometimes that I wish you would take these words to heart and learn from them instead of twisting the words I stated into something they never were. Something that makes you feel better about what was said (and please note that I no longer say any words to you as I now fear your response to any of my words…I am really tired of this plastered on sheen of happiness that doesn’t exist).

I am at a loss...a loss of a friend, a loss of a piece of happiness in my life. A loss of the kindest person I have ever known…until you can mend yourself.

“You never worked well with our group
Not with the faults we found
So we fixed you with cement galoshes
No one can save you now”
--Brand New “Luca”

Currants

Floating,

Searching.

Drifting,

Needing.

The currents are stronger than they appear,

jump in with both feet,

and float into the Gulf stream.

The current can take you further than your mind

once ever thought possible.

Widen your intellect beyond the now,

beyond the barriers that bind it.

Malin

She's almighty.

she can take your breath away with a single flick of her tongue,

and then she'll cut your throat with the flip of her hair.

She prevails.

there are no prisoners, only victims,

the wrath of all that is to come,

the torment of what could be.

She's cognition at its finest.

slipping cyanide into your finest wine,

then shedding a tear as you suffocate to death.

She is alone.

and she reviles in its gory grandeur.

The sharp edges of a shattered mirror,

of love.

The Reef

Fix the broken bow,

we sailed in here upon.

We shall fly away

into the endless sky,

the forever moon

the passerby.

Our love cannot be defeated

for we put our everything into it.

We fly away at the sound of a teardrop

and coast past the pain.

The eyes have seen enough suffering,

Our island of paradise

we shall stop upon for now,

picking up our travels again

to sail anew

with the pulling of the tide.

Tefester

Swarming, manifesting, leeches out of control
harboring victims to the Eastern dock.
sail into the wind, away from the mess
I left for dead.

The Fear I have no doubt

So many thoughts, they are swarming so quickly

wrapping tightly around my throat...

their thick, ramped tongues dying for a taste

of that which is to come.

Fear is the ultimate supper for these thoughts

it is unbearably delicious, tantalizing in every aspect

there is no comparison.

They swarm, getting tighter and tighter around my face

their attempts, thus far, have been abandoned

They have not yet swayed me, have not yet pulled me under...

...not yet.

But they have come close. Frighteningly close

which only makes their frenzy worse

it only perpetuates their desire.

The fear itself is the worst of all vicious cycles

I fear the fear, which makes this tightening around my throat absolutely maddening

It makes all my thoughts twirl, but not in sync like a ballerina

no, these thoughts are the furthest from beautiful and graceful.

They bounce, crack, and groan

I've never wondered why our species was the top of the food chain before

I've always known it was because of this...these thoughts, fear-hungry creatures

But every creatures greatest strength is also their greatest weakness.

Soon I will succumb. Soon.

There is no timeline

But until I do, the thoughts will perpetually tighten

as soon as the fear diminishes, they will loosen for a while

and will be forgotten.

Only to be remembered again when the fear returns.

It will be the death of me someday.

I have no doubt.

Written: January 27, 2009

I don't want it.

I don’t want to get caught up in your tantalizing web
I know not what that web is constructed of
One can only assume of sex, lies and alcohol (yup)
And a little sweat to construe it all so beautifully.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?”
I asked so politely
How good I’ve become at spewing this same bullshit
Saying the things I think you want to hear
Speaking the words that are the equivalent of negative thoughts to me
It makes me sick…ill.
What have I become? And who is there really to blame?
Sure I could pull a measly attempt at blaming you
But we all know how far from reality that is.
Sadly, I don’t know where to stand myself where I belong
Because I don’t belong.
I truly, deep down, am ok with that
But it seems as though to function in this fucking hell hole of a society
That one needs to belong to SOMETHING.
I don’t get it.

Fuck it.

Written: August 15, 2009

Element

The moonlight shone through the wearisome leaves in the trees
The branches that remain made the beams dance.
They found your eyes, and changed them to that color
blue.
Like the deep fountains held tight within,
somehow a secret was wisping away
into the wind
to never be heard again.
We asked the wind to blow her mighty eastern breath
to begin anew.
The earth listened, and added a dance to her mournful tune.
A candle lit to the south,
to embrace the cooling waters to the west.
A song emerged.
Your ocean moonlit eyes danced to the rhythm
and found peace within its tranquility.
Silence is a gift we have to earn.
Hold tight to my hand, while we drift away with the breeze.
The floods will take us away, we'll float in the deep, cool waters.
rise with the founding fires,
and wash up on the steady earth.
Amid a new day, a new life, and a new way.
We will find peace.

Written: November 14, 2009

The Lioness

There is a starving lion in the room
and he's roaring back his fierce face.
The pause in our reaction to this should be shocking,
but the look in the lion's eye
is that of a sad and lonely beast.
Beautiful in his cowardice,
yet he finds himself so vulnerable,
so hideous.
The deep, courageous, beautiful heart of the lion
can only be seen through his eyes.
His expressions, ever-guarded,
He chooses to never set it free.
For, as we know, the lion believes his vulnerability to be repugnant.
His lioness hunts and brings her kill to him
She caresses the lion, delicately licking and cleaning his guarded mask.
The lion's heart melts,
his eyes open,
and he sleeps.

Written: October 27, 2009

Human bullets

Walk into the room

Energies about, attack, suffocate, mimic and go on.

You know you can’t win this battle,

You know there’s no hope.

Doom impending on your doorstep each time you step foot into the presence

The air is stifling,

yet everyone else can breathe.

This is the reason you’re alive.

This is the reason you breathe.

This is the reason you care.

Fragile soul, working so hard to be normal.

Grow your shell, your casing, your bullets

Fire away at random, sometimes it makes it easier.

One less person means more oxygen.

One less person means one more life.

Yet each time you bring your arsenal of tactics

You drop them at the door with your shoes

and walk barefoot and naked in front of them all.

This is the reason you hate yourself.

This is the reason you’re sad.

This is the reason you can’t pick up and move on.

Fragile heart, breaking apart at the pieces

the moments stolen away from others mend it together

like veins, ligaments and shrapnel

Whole again.

You love It’s all you know how to do.

Your love is oxygenating,

No one can breathe.

The Sheild

Are there two parts to every person?
Perhaps there are more than that.
I know, without the doubt of this,
That I am too many to count anymore.
Who am I really, and who is the person I let others see?
Is the face in the mirror truly me?
In here I feel distorted, fragments of that mirror
Shards of glass showing each meticulous imperfection
Each deep thought that slices further and further,
Until a cerebral hemorrhage occurs.
It will occur.
Marshall, is this why you died?
Were these thoughts too much for your mind to take?
So you cut them with your words,
And left this earth in peace?
I can understand why you were tired,
Why you felt drained and damaged.
The breaking point can only come so close
So many times
Before a person cracks at the seams,
And the blood begins to pour.
The person I want to be
Is the person that I already am
But the person I already am,
Refuses to show her beautiful face.
In the mirror I see composure,
Full lips, high cheekbones, eyes that will pierce through your skull if you let them,
That’s not the image I’ve conjured inside,
That’s not me, she’s just genetics.
They are fooling you.
“Be not afraid” he says
I’m not, but
This shield is too strong for me to lift.
It’s spent almost 25 years there, getting heavier and heavier with each blow.
Each battle has taken its toll,
And too quickly for me to really know
Where to go from here…

Written: December 20, 2009