SF~
Enjoy
I try to clench my teeth and bite
Down on all of the sounds that flight
My eye’s should do the screaming, for they bear the sight
Oh, I got nothing to give you
Except, a penny or two
I knock on the front door
“I hear you’re back for more”
came back for my reputation
which you left on the floor
You call me on over
And all I can say
“Oh I got nothing to give you
Not love, just a penny or two.”
I’ve been hiding
from all the scary things
From all the imagery
of being happy
a nice cottage home
Warm fire place
Well we could always try to collaborate if you weren’t on Anon. :)
He never knew his father
Or his mother
And that “home”
that was thrust upon him
sounded more like tomb
to the child whom was ripped out of the womb
by steel blade from a
slowly disintegrating parent
making it apparent that
he was alone
and some foster home
with misunderstanding tendencies
couldn’t fill that hole
Because that anger made a nest in his heart.
And it festered and made
a little boy fear the start
of every magical journey
or person that could give him a part
of his heart back, trying to fix him.
as if he’s wearing a heart backpack
and the zippers broken
And every one can see he’s
used to carry gasoline around
because he can’t stand the sound
of getting close to a human being.
So every one thinking he’s an emotional pyromaniac
he made himself a hypochondriac
Saying you can’t get close to me because of this and that
All those people pushed away
then gave him that title
“Pyro”
That little boy on fire
with some conflicting desires.
To be Alone
And to be loved.
Didn’t know where to put his wishes
as if they were little fishes
lost in a sink of dirty dishes
that were placed there without express permission
And there was no way to clean the water
so the wishes never went any where
but the boy just burned hotter
and he became to school’s name calling cannon fodder
He wore each insult as though it were armor
He became an insult farmer
He traded those in for smiles
He traded that false home in for miles
Miles walked with one foot in front of the other
Feet swaying like a teeter totter.
Knowing no one would come looking for him
a boy who wasn’t afraid of throwing his limbs
up in celebration of
a new found education on an emotional vacation
He ran away to hope
cleansing his soul’s pallet with a sabbatical soap.
and then to put a fire out.
The lights cut out. and there’s a pause.
a new found shelter in the darkness.
a Silence when the power goes out.
the “power”.
A noise maker and nothing more
A buzz of a light
Florescently flickering floating with a whisper
above to keep you in the day, in the middle of the night.
A calm creak of hallways opening up,
to tall towers of apartment complexes
Un-complexing the word “neighbor”.
You wouldn’t happen to have any candles?
wax dripping set light to a new found game of monopoly
as the irony of a family with no hydro electricity
pretends it’s rich
To buy boredwalk and park place so the free parking doesn’t
have to feel
Like a hand out.
So the candle light becomes a game
where those without power can go on living without the shame
That they couldn’t pay for the power bills tonight.
The bus hum’d
and while I stared into the sea,
she told me she didn’t like cheese.
Something about the texture
It was like a bad picture with too much exposure
in her mouth
and crumbled like curdling cheddar.
It was something about texture.
I remember those finger
so cautiously wrapped around my wrist
for fear of some emotional mist
down the road.
So carefully clutched onto me
Scarcely could feel them,
counting down to eternity
Until an entwining of playful phalanges, find themselves fornicating
and Would let stand and then fall into place
Like perfect puzzle pieces.
and counting…
and counting.
and then dreaming
and then drifting.
When I met her I swore
maybe the red dress would have staved
off starvation, to my hearts condensation.
But it came down
To texture
Texture
Of provolone… that couldn’t alone prove
a daring romantic theory of those hands on the bus.
Of cheddar not daring her, to make a first step
and Brie,
was for she
With a bitter taste in the mouth,
but for the time you chew
It is sweet.
It comes calling in the middle of the night,
in the morning, it sheers all sheep out of sight
The sheep, shivering, fall senselessly from
That number of counting one, more. I press my lips and Hum
A scale up toward the top of my head, down to my tail
But still
fleeting dreams, I see, I sense, my ability to sail
Toward them, as if casting my broken heart hoping for it to heal
and reform and fix my own sensitivities, give my fingertips weekly allowances to feel.
Calculate, my Tin-man theory
put it in a box, let it sit, this Tin-man theory,
I’d rather have fury
passion, or some sort of engagement.
Give me my heart.
I shouldn’t have to petition some goddamn wizard
Every time I want to love something.
I should be able to open my lungs and sing
As easy as it would be to open that part of me.
When did I weld it shut
Like some deep sea diver
Under pressure falling down on me
Inside an ocean of troubles
near this hearts equator
Was it when she left, that memory; a fader
but I thought I repaid her,
with my words in a slur
with some foxes fur
Maybe the drink
made that all a blur
I mean I don’t remember skinning a fox.
How, absurd could it be
for me to dream.
And dare to petition that wizard, ask him his fee
let me love freely, open fully, tell the truth frankly
Because Frankly,
I don’t give a damn any more.
But that’s the problem
I’m devolving my own empathy
And running with new found epiphanies
and herding sheep, down to the wolves
of my heart so cold.
but, I’d rather sit fold
laundry and help you mold
The dough into a new found relaxing relatively
nonthreatening new found loveablitity.
And have you feed my vanity
Because right now, I’m just a Tin-Man in Vancity.
This is it.
Are all that we are skin, bone and water inside?
What words are there for someone
you did not know?
A soul not touched by your hand.
Why then must you go? what demand
could I have said or asked to have printed my hand upon your soul?
Could I have exchange more words?
Instead now I have inferred some condolences to your pathways.
Perhaps we might have shared a diamond of day.
Why then was I so selfish with my time, to not know how abrupt or never lifting off friendship would have been?
What clocks ticked away for me not to get up and say, Hey!
My soul should gap some life for you today.
What part could I have played?
But your soul lifted off in some unseen direction
To not hear my affections
to gain some happy afflictions
perhaps your laughing addiction
and all the diction in the world
Is upset-tingly flat
and that music that can’t live like a smile
can’t hit the key’s of someone’s brave mentality
can’t challenge a good laugh of a family.
Now the small community’s got a family’s heartbreak mentality.
And they went looking to save you.
To save that good embrace of a warm knowing face.
They put up posters of saving grace
to put the world to the chase
to find true love’s taste.
To teach the world, what love is for
Maybe from me the world should ask for more.
Because it asked too much for you.
And I miss a soul I never knew.
Thanks for the kind words. I’ve never been one for spell checking.
Do you write yourself?
Castle-ize my Mind.
Loop my self destruction.
Purgatory my every day
If only I could get away from my holiday
some way.
Free my cataclysmic need
to feed.
to sieze.
A change I can’t commit.
And can’t create.
I’ve kept it safe
and all alone
Just in case
You came home
I wanted this to seem
un-rehersed
but as you see
It’s not my first
I don’t know
If I should burn
or feel alone
.
with all these fires
blazing all
out of control
.
You should
probably have
just stayed never atoned
.
and my fathers
drunkenly ranting
about that day he left home
.
and all those
cigarettes that can’t
fill his holes
I’m bleeding dry
sinking low
just a fly
Upon the wall
I see
Just what I want
Make believe
Save the taunts
“Tell me now
child of mine
You’re sinking down,
I have no time.”
Oh oh
“I’ve got this notion,
(Don’t you know all your notions are wrong?)
I’ve got this notion,
(Don’t you know all your notions are wrong?)
I’ve got this notion;
Like I don’t belong”
The padded Walls
keep me safe
Just a bear
inside a cave
Talk to me
Help me know
just who
I am to show
“Oh mother dear
you weren’t told?
After all
I have to show?
Only a crown
could help me down
Off a throne
of being alone
You see
“I’ve got this notion,
(Don’t you know all your notions are wrong?)
I’ve got this notion,
(Don’t you know all your notions are wrong?)
I’ve got this notion;
Like all my feelings are wrong.”
“I’ve got this notion,
(Don’t you know all your notions are wrong?)
I’ve got this notion,
(Don’t you know all your notions are wrong?)
I’ve got this notion;
Like I don’t belong”
