Sunday, July 26, 2009


Memories aren't erasable from my mind;
they're gripped and locked with
all my desperation.
Canned and placed on my shelf;
like condensed, untouched spam.
Only peeled open for desperate times,
when I'm too sad to live through
new memories.

I wish sunshine wasn't stranded on a mountain.
I wish happiness could be plentiful;
with no need to be kept like spam.


Two perspectives, contradicting in one mind,
both blurred in speed.
One brain processing both sights,
both of which it must heed.
Split emotions,
half to match each view.
Complete opposites,
like a right and left shoe.
Slicing the mind in half;
visions never do merge.
Battling for comprehension;
before its body's surge.

Wednesday, July 22, 2009


White is like air.
It can display big, loud cities.
Or add pigment to a bird.
It's used to create vacant skies.
"Everywhere" whispers the artist, painting.

Road Rage

The stress of being late fills me with anger.
The dumbasses that surround me can't drive.
Frustrated dominates, though from other things it derived.
My patience is thin, time to render these fools.
They should be informed they'll be burned, to feel the anxiety I feel.

Misread Lines

Look up.
In the sky is a stinging brightness,
not like the sun’s blinding, dull light,
but more painful.
Like a mirror, showing light forms,
it’s like a rainbow of colours,
flooding out of a prism;
escaping the binding white light.
It's hard to tear your eyes away,
captured by overwhelming sparkles.
Notice it soars; traveling.
Think of what it is,
and of what it might do.

As this object moves,
the shine changes shape,
the sparkles shift to gray.
Wonder why.
Look up.
There's that glistening sun,
parallel to the ceasing sight.
The airplane is revealed,
boring and ordinary.
The airplane reflected the sun,
claiming nature's false glory.
Turns out it wasn't the machine,
but the nature, creating the story.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009


There's a sudden change;
I feel discomfort here.
This is too strange,
you're reason is not clear

I've been using you for a while,
this is the first irritation.
It's like I'm on trial,
for using you as a foundation.

You were working out great,
but now there's pain when we meet.
You're not carrying your weight,
and now there's blisters on my feet.

Friday, July 17, 2009


When I'm the last one awake,
When I'm the only one to shake,
You make it all better,
By just spending time together.

At the last moment I have,
In the breakdown where I melt,
Someone could pull me through,
How strange that it is you.

I love that you'll be there,
I love that you care,
But we're not all that close,
That's what I love the most.

You're not always there,
You're not always aware,
Just a nice friend,
With some time to lend.

Or can be if needed,
If I feel so defeated.

Although we're not terribly close,
Sometimes I feel you care the most,
You make me feel like your best friend,
Right until our time together must end.