Monday, June 30, 2014

Directed, Drifting, or Diogenes? (Doesn't Matter)

It's strange how much I don't care
If I'm home or not at home.
I could convince myself I'm comfortable
While in heaven, hell, or Nome.
If the language is a barrier,
It's tunneled underneath,
Those moments of near-frustration
Followed by near-relief.
Besides, how many people
Would I talk to in a day?
Any crowd I run with,
I'm alone there anyway.

To a Sportbike with Aftermarket Exhaust

The voice of a bulge where a bulge oughtn't be
Belies new, polished shine with a laugh so sickly,
A rattling, tasteless, and amoral burst
Like a two-fisted drinker out quenching his thirst,
But hawks make awful shrieks, and they manage to fly.
If I had some ear plugs, I might give it a try.

Leading...

She was here, and now she's gone,
and you say that she led you on.
Explain now.  Be specific, please.
Did she lead you on a leash,
Or lead you on a guided tour?
One's insulting.  Two is not a bore.
Lead you on a merry chase?
Did you reach an aerobic pace?
You say she likes to lead snipe hunts?
I guess next, you'll say she's...

...Said the Teacher to the Time Capsule

I remember when I hated school,
But took it too seriously.
It was an ego trip for me.

I remember when I liked school,
But took it far too lightly,
Seeing how cool I could be.

I remember when I went to school
As to a social club: to meet,
and reconvene repeatedly.

I remember when I thought school
Was something best left behind me,
No more than scratch paper and memories.

Now, I am in charge of the scratch paper.

A Time to Part, A Time to Meet

That which rocks must always roll.
The clock, we watch but don't control.
The future racing in to meet us
Was always going to defeat us.
To each, the other will be gone.
We each ourselves will soon move on,
and yet, to end but not to leave
Will likely mean to someday see.

Wednesday, June 25, 2014

Why I Write, Part x+262: The Recipe

Start with a stance, passionate but unbalanced.
Throw in dashes of Dickinson—if she hadn't had talent—
and cut into sections with rhymed ends that slant.
Into some, the essence of nineties decant.
With the essance of aughts, be a little more stingy.
Let the thing stew in a brain-bucket dingy,
Then knead it in an uneven rhythm that skips.
Alliterate lightly to cover the blips.
Mix metaphors up like a suicide soda,
and finish it off with an unrhyming coda.

Oops.


Eh, nevermind.

Tuesday, June 24, 2014

My Personal World, Part 22: Baggage/Around the World in 8 Tracks

If I am ever really known, then I am known to travel light.
I lost most of my memories along the road one night.
The bumps were bruising, the memories too heavy for my mind.
I think those twist and turns were also too much for my fright.
I last saw my shame on the way down a pass on I-90.
It couldn't keep up with so many bad decisions at high speed.
I might've left my marbles just east of the Mississippi.
They didn't weigh me down; I just didn't want 'em with me.

I'm not an accountant, but still, I don't fight
The influence of tastes past on my future, my life.
If I did, I'd need insurance no agent provides
For the times high-flying, erratic-steering memory collides
With the steady, ceaseless, high-speed driving of a beat,
From my most recent metal, and back to oldies.
I'm not really known for traveling heavy.
Nevertheless, I carry most of the music with me.

Why I Write, Part x+261: Alliterative, Literate, Literary, Lawless

In reading and writing, regarding the radical
I've been too focused, fixated, fanatical
On being fantastic, first rate, foremost and formidable
To find favor with the finical, fussy, fastidious,
But not once have I wondered "well, what have I missed?"

Crisis of Belief

The blunt end of Revelation grows in heaven, from a seed.
Its branches underlie us, too monumental to be seen
By the legions, billions, ignoranta number once including me.
Until one day, down the middle, my skull was rudely pierced
By a sculptor's knife, an existential ax-bladea mere leaf.
As ignorant as I'd been, I swore ne'er again I'd be,
But had I known the fight I'd have to make the world believe
Or even just acknowledge, to this task would I've agreed?
I lived before I knew. That knowing now comes naturally.
Knowing what I know, can I go back, forget, retreat?
It's too tiring to believe in the Truth, the kind with a capital T.

The Beautiful Terrorists

They vivisect with just their eyes,
Their talons, too, pierce many pies
All those within their reach or grasp.
They even bite the hands they clasp.
Few, lucky, leave while still intact
Their grounds ruled by unspoken pact,
Where rule's enforced by brutal words
Far too feared to be ignored.

Where Roads Diverge, Pt. 2

I know not what I wish for when I wish that I could change.
I'd do as well to trade retreating hairline for a case of mange.
To adopt the common value's to believe the TV's lies
That having more will make me happy—to hoard, and be dissatisfied.
Perhaps I ought to be creative rather than pay convenience fees,
But the bills bear someone else's face. My time is marked for me,
and while supervision rankles, it straight repels to be adored.
I hate the wrong decisions, but hate the right ones even more.

Where Roads Diverge, Pt. 1

Hard rock begat pop-metal, and pop-metal, glam.
I've evolved just enough to dislike who I am.
Sometimes I should put “long-term” before “now.”
I hate that I askand don't figure outhow.
I hate that others must mind when I shirk
'Cause I'd empty my Netflix queue in lieu of work.
I know I should mind earthly matters, rewards,
and respect that other folks collect them, if not hoard,
So that my debts and my enemies don't endlessly climb
I hate making the wrong decision all the time.

Monday, June 23, 2014

Let's Go Somewhere Where It's Louder

I have been obtuse too long.
You have been absurd too long.
I have been sitting too long,
Wishing the world had come with corners
So I could sit somewhere and see all the disorder,
Writing the unthinkable
To the unthinking
For shits and giggles.

Maybe I have also been absurd.


Please, just say the word.

Red Passion

The way you move through life is fit for chess and fit for dance.
It removes my brain so I can't think, not even of romance.
You move me to say words that I wish back before they're said.
You move my heart and blood both faster, 'til my whole being is red.
You move my passions' round.  Your words blow steady winds of whims.
You move me to non-moving.  I cannot leave.  You've drawn me in.
You move the needle to the red line and the dial to eleven,
and when you finally move on, it feels like air-conditioned heaven.

Friday, June 20, 2014

Happy Birthday, Current Resident

Tick, tock.  Tick, Tock.
Five O'Clock alarm clock rock.
Shampoo for beard.  Toothpaste for teeth.
Breakfast I'm not real psyched to eat.
Switch for light, and lock for room,
and job I'm glad is ending soon.
It's time to go prepare for class,
To answer questions they won't ask.
After that, it's time to teach,
To hear them practice what I preach,
Or rather, what I read aloud.
Then back to traffic, back to crowds
Of senseless cars on thin roadways.

Nothing important happened today.

If You're Lucky

If you're lucky, you can:
Be with someone who brings out the best in you,
Be with someone who knows exactly what they have in you,
Be with someone who is proud of you,
Be with someone who can't stay mad at you,
Be with someone who can't stand not talking to you,
Be with someone who is afraid to lose you,
Be with someone who makes you happy,
Be with someone who values your time,
Be with someone who makes you laugh,
Be with someone who makes you laugh when you don't want to.
Or, if you're patient, you can choose
To be whole.
Of course,
You need to consider the source,
Who doesn't like giving up control.

Sunday, June 15, 2014

Days/Daze/Malaise

What is the nature of this malaise?
It turns hours and minutes to seasons and days,
But it turns my days into nothing at all.
I'm not trippingI'd have to get up to fall.
It isn't death and it isn't sleep.
My eyes are too bright; the head 'round them, too week.
All I really know
Is that I really have to go,

and that I won't.

Saturday, June 14, 2014

The Tunnel

The tunnel is direction without reason, without light,
Where a lack of stimulation is both medicine and blight.

Today there is a reason were before was just a way.
I found the light at the end of the tunnel today.
Isn't the second stamp on the visa, or the airplane.
The light at the end of the tunnel is hard to explain.

I embraced the light at the end of the tunnel tonight.
I can hardly stop my thoughts for long enough to write.

The Mistake/The Heartbreak/The Second Take (Radio Edit)

I took a break from being a friend
To be lousy and lazy and human,
Not to live up to what my future's been.
The heartbreak, if not the mistake, may mend.

It's not having done wrong and been right.
It's not even the fact that I survived.
It's that my mistake came to define
Your life,
and I've learned to cease letting it define
Mine.

How can I be fine with being fine?

The Mistake/The Heartbreak/The Second Take

I took a break from being a friend
To be shitty and lazy and human,
Not to live up to what my future's been.
The heartbreak, if not the mistake, may mend.

It's not having done wrong and been right.
It's not even the fact that I survived.
It's that my mistake came to define
Your life,
and I've learned to cease letting it define
Mine.

How can I be fine with being fine?

Wednesday, June 11, 2014

Go Ahead, Give Me a Reason

When the only reason to get out of bed
Is the drive to work, that's a long day.
When the only reason to get out of bed
Is the drive to work, take the long way.
When the only reason to get out of bed
Is leaving, one month from now,
Then it's best to be running the time out
Quickly, but I don't really know how.
When a quarterback wants the time run out,
He kneels on the ground with the ball,
But I find that dull and cowardly.
I refuse to watch it at all.

...Said the Sinner to the Innocent, Drifting Away

You were feuding with my best friend
About a year ago.
Before, you asked to see my writing,
But I never let you know.
You and I were on the track team
Until two-thousand-three.
Before, you were my bandmate;
Before that, a friend to me.
You were my reason to get out of bed
In nineteen ninety-seven.
I expect the pattern to continue.
One day, you'll be in heaven...

Sunday, June 8, 2014

Pinwheel, Pt. 2

Water's precious beyond measure if you fear to die of thirst,
But easy to take for granted if you flood your basement first.
I had cars, and balls, and weapons, superhero capes, and rings.
I grew up too expensive to have learned to value things.
If it took time to learn, appreciate, I'd grab another toy.
I was too much of a child then to make a decent boy,
But the result of this consumption would leave Wall Street quite appalled:
No care for one thing or a hundred, scarce for one or none at all.

Thursday, June 5, 2014

One More Visit to Apartment Number Five

I won't say a word to you.
I don't have a word for you,
Only a reaction.
My select mortal distraction
Is quickly gaining traction,
Driving right on past distraction
Whining, defining, red-lining,
Driving-all-other-thoughts-from-my-mind-ing.
I ought to give thought to unwinding,
But know I can always take more.

I guess I've been here before.

Number Five

You just refuse to do things right.
Eyes are meant to take in light,
But if instead, they could take life,
I'd be a murderer tonight.

We both know looks can kill.
I doubt I wanted that, but still
It will be hours more until
I take my medicine and chill.

Don't Love the One You're Not With

You tell me what kind
Of guy you think you like,
and I think I'm your type,
But the mind likes
What the eyes like,
and I fall behind.

I guess you weren't aware
Of my un-part in your affair,
Of my trying not to stare
At the highlights in your hair,
But the longer you're not there,
The less I find I care.

I know I should move on
From our failure to bond,
But the longer we're both gone,
I'm satisfied to get along
With no more dances, only songs;
With being over, not beyond.

They say to meet and then dissolve
Beats having no romance at all.
Though it would leave the Bard appalled,
I have this problem better solved:
Get infatuated, not involved.
That way, you save yourself the fall.