b (00) m!
sounds like.....?
deception in a doorway, maybe
if the way out was in, then things could get a bit crowded
like a japanese subway.
and if you look close enough
you can see an inch of space in between
a universe to some
a relationship to others
and that is where the words are
(small letter families)
weak foundation words
with backgrounds of their own
hate, i think
never had a mother
as if the childlike notion of a word being real
ever made a difference.
love, on the other hand
could have been fatherless
but i doubt hopelessly wandering forever
has anything to do with having no male figure.
there was another one somewhere
hitchiking, begging for sight
scratching out a sign saying
"Hello. My name is: Trust."
there were others, i believe
memory, the dead one
faith, the crazy relative
who ever happens to stop by.
but it really matters not
they are fiction. characters.
like nature, or one of those boom words
something to laugh at when you're not sleeping.
the real people, the solid ghosts
are the ones who pillars are made from
standing solid under endless towers
batting away at those pesky words.
waiting for the time to come
when the curtain pulls back
revealing a chorus line of lonely bodies
with b(00)m in their eyes, and s1gh in their hearts
and no will ever know *insert chuckle here*
who runs the subway, shoves them in tight
prints the words on the ads
that tell us our story is over.
but we decide when, don't we?
forever will we hold on to the meaningless,
traveling words
offering shelter in our swollen tongues
and though it may not sound like...
belief (the slightly more sane relative)
it was intended be sincere
even if nothing else is.
deception in a doorway, maybe
if the way out was in, then things could get a bit crowded
like a japanese subway.
and if you look close enough
you can see an inch of space in between
a universe to some
a relationship to others
and that is where the words are
(small letter families)
weak foundation words
with backgrounds of their own
hate, i think
never had a mother
as if the childlike notion of a word being real
ever made a difference.
love, on the other hand
could have been fatherless
but i doubt hopelessly wandering forever
has anything to do with having no male figure.
there was another one somewhere
hitchiking, begging for sight
scratching out a sign saying
"Hello. My name is: Trust."
there were others, i believe
memory, the dead one
faith, the crazy relative
who ever happens to stop by.
but it really matters not
they are fiction. characters.
like nature, or one of those boom words
something to laugh at when you're not sleeping.
the real people, the solid ghosts
are the ones who pillars are made from
standing solid under endless towers
batting away at those pesky words.
waiting for the time to come
when the curtain pulls back
revealing a chorus line of lonely bodies
with b(00)m in their eyes, and s1gh in their hearts
and no will ever know *insert chuckle here*
who runs the subway, shoves them in tight
prints the words on the ads
that tell us our story is over.
but we decide when, don't we?
forever will we hold on to the meaningless,
traveling words
offering shelter in our swollen tongues
and though it may not sound like...
belief (the slightly more sane relative)
it was intended be sincere
even if nothing else is.
3 Comments:
i know this is old, but i thought it would be a good first poem for this blog. wait a minute, who am i talking to?
Wow. That was really good. Serious.
I would put my story on here, but I'm not a member. :(
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home