Flooded Hearts (are all the rage)

The Captivity of Light

2011-12-16T19:37:00.000-08:00

Caressed by darkness
in a cold unfamiliar to few
is a pale unknowing innocence.
Blind to touch and impervious to passion;
shallow thoughts churn deep.
Abducted by warmth, a corpse surrenders to a distant brilliance
succumbing to its grace and beauty.
Drowning in the purity of unfathomable joy,
a world unbeknownst approaches.
Life bursts forth infinity
and freezes quick in time
the timid touch of a vapor cold.
At the crux of essence—abandonment.
to darkness,
the bellicose soul conforms.
Effortlessly finding solace
In the sarcophagus of time
Rebuilding slowly
One thought at a time.

Phoning it in

2009-09-01T12:34:00.000-07:00

Shutup neatly like a brick
I smile at my new home
Cotton Ball drapes
and rice paper walls
the better to hear me
Phoning it in
Fancy meeting you
in my new space
Now stand back
and watch me work my magic
I coddle the cowards
and give them the business
All the appropriate fingers
up to the sky
Keeps them busy for hours
The loveless freaks
I simply show the door
and instruct them
on how to use it
with slow and deliberate language
and on the other side…..
ta-da!
Nothing
No pretty girl waiting patiently
No new world order
That will truly respect your rights
Not even that fucking snow
You asked for on your twelfth Christmas
Just a sea of slack faces
Begging for vitamins
And the secret to life
Well here it is my child
‘All that you love will be carried away’
So sign your name on the wall
And leave your worries for the next person

tensions are rising

2007-12-04T10:36:00.000-08:00

dark matches dark
in the arrid hallway
ghosts of molded chairs
and painted landscapes
now like desert and rocks
from the ten years dust
here i am alone
but the feeling is: surrounded!
hands up, hop on one foot
negotiators cake is soap for the hostage
but memories are the only bargain now
would i trade them for amnesty?
if they keep up the whisper
'is he going ahead with it?'
'not him, never,...coward i suspect'
i lie to myself to keep the bay at pigs
if you ask yourself
where will it all end?
do a youtube search
i think of stockholm's
and laugh
as i run to the end of the hallway
kicking up dust
and unused shells
here, an empty bedroom
i am terrified to enter
as a cold hand clutches
the colder knob
i burst in
thoughts a blazin'

i wrote this while high

2007-11-08T00:07:00.000-08:00

machine gun ray
had his hands
in this pie and that
but always kept his secrets
in every pocket
but the back
lilith the blind stripper
never missed a beat
but spent every dollar
casting gold
to her feet
brad and beth
the bitches, respective
never did vote
but were always elected
and god
the fuck fanatic
the witch
and the winner
bathed them all in prizes
as he cast them as sinners
and the story?
there is none
the moral....
forget it
this world is nonsense
and bullshit
and nonsense
deal with it

Belfast, KY

2007-02-17T17:36:00.001-08:00

Harry seemed nonplussed
Paula was in the the garden
with the kids
it stopped raining on thursday
and the wind hit the switch
on the seasons
wrapped the fence
around the chimney
and sent the family
into the clouds
like birdsy
who've forgetten to fly
but the path soon lights
ending on a dot
on a map
reading Belfast, KY pop 1091
raising silent children
in the shade
and now jimmy is afraid of storms
and they all forgot to name the new baby girl
wasting time on a dream
of another home
from a long long time ago

the sad one

2007-01-21T10:33:00.001-08:00

this is the sad one
the one where i pour my heart out
in little pieces
and make the paper
wish it was being used
for a grocery list instead
the one where i express my pain
over loss, or perceived loss
but offer no thoughts
on how to heal
the one wear i say im all alone
even though, somewhere in me
i know im not
im surrounded by love
and i ignore it
at every turn, im shown
how wonderful i am
and i deny it with every breath
this isnt the one
where i turn around and accept it all
this is the sad one
but with hope
maybe the last one

magnified

2007-01-19T07:33:00.000-08:00

from every position imaginable
i shout these lines
to the sky
i say i am important
but i dont feel it
to the ground
am i who ive always been?
i torture myself
for no reason
i see the pain
reflect from me
to others
and it is magnified
my heart tears
but only in small places
i will heal
and i will love....
me
one day soon
this will not go unread
these words will not fail
just as i will not fail me

the girls

2007-01-17T22:12:00.000-08:00

i surround myself with beauty
because i have none
but that is wrong
it is in me
waiting for all to see
with the right eyes
the girls bring it out
and cover it up
like sand and shells
without them i am....
still here, but lost
they are everything
and they will never know
my heart
in
a
rhyming pattern
that never made sense in the first place
the beats
sound like the girls
calling my name
i am here
take me, forever
and never give me back

start

2007-01-17T20:52:00.000-08:00

this is the start
the beginning of my life in ink
me on paper
words that consume my mind
nesting behind my eyes
i will never stop
(a promise to myself)
i write
and then some more
and when i die
my ghost will dictate
to a promising new soldier
in the war of words
arise writer
chant the words of chuck b.
march through the halls
and burn it all
stomp your prose
into the ground
and scorch the sky
with poem after poem
and when i am done
i am never done
this is the start
that will never find its end

the new sunshine

2006-11-22T12:01:00.000-08:00

they are all here
waiting to be seated
like patient lambs
and in walks this
little irish number
with auburn curls
that go on
until december
and i rise
like the tides
on a good day
and greet
the new sunshine
with burning eyes
and hands
and the flock
scatters, hearing
the sirens
and bombs
of hormones
now belated
and the voice of
the sunshine (still new)
sings my ears
to bed, as i
blindly search
across the face
of the sun
for a smile to
brighten this wake
but i have forgotten
that statues are silent
and im only alone
with my mind
in a room
with chairs
and a table
and a tinny old radio
playing o danny boy
in time to my
beating heart
as i search for
scattered sunshine
in the growing cracks
of the walls

modern american music

2006-11-20T14:27:00.000-08:00

i am a lost, hungry and greedy child wearing video clothes and sleeping on piles of gold and apathy. i am a tabloid baby jesus wrapped in tabloid front pages. i am slipping smiles and sweaty handshakes, market shares, bonus points, and consumer promotions. i am a product on the shelves, crying to be bought up and restocked. i am analogous in nature and appearance, never steering towards originality, always heading towards a sunrise of cash prizes. i am a face, but not a true name, a sound, but not a true voice. i am neon, pastel, artificial, dehydrated and repackaged, sent to both young and old, to be used and soon forgotten. i am the paper that hides the real idea, the man behind the curtain. i am one thousand ugly lies for every single beautiful truth.

patterns

2006-10-11T09:57:00.000-07:00

the beauty of random patterns
is governed by a set of rules
that rely on nonsense
chaos
love
joy
pain
characters of soul, that rain down
on us all
until focus shifts, from foreground
to back
and new forms are bred from old
black bleeds out white
white becomes a dot
becomes a star, becomes it all
until there is no center
no beginning or end
only the all
where joy embraces chaos
and pain collides with love
creating a pattern so perfect
that the only one who sees
is the one not looking

stop

2006-09-26T11:07:00.000-07:00

i was just about to stop today
when i saw your face
swimming through the crowd like a happy little bubble
flying through a sea of paper souls
and i am trying to keep up with this goose chase
this fruitless search
for yours is a vision
of an image
of a very very faint illusion
that being something you think
you see
so i try to find what isnt there
like alice and that grinning cat
like that voice that is constantly changing directions
my what an amazing trick you have discovered
teach and i will learn
laugh and i will sing
raise your hands in elation and joy
and i will hang my head in fear and shame
what do you think is going on here
there is a window of opportunity directly below you
so jump fall crash
jump jump jump
into this well shaped hole i call my heart
into this superconducting, supercolliding
incarnation of my neglected genius
dont stand there like a tree in central park
waiting for you leaves to fall slowly to your feet
take your position in this place
where a man is a man
a woman is a woman
and a life dont mean shit when you've got a gun
ive had my fill of the rest of this world
with its car chases
and brutal criminal tresspassing
and everything else that dont make a damn lick of sense
unless you've got a phd in the what the fuck was that
'what the fuck was that' my mother used to say
as i ran through the house
with my take no prisoners, as seen on tv psycho rifle of doom
you say your parents taught you values
i say mine taught me how to use the remote
and now thanks to them i am stuck out in the open
with my ass on the ground
and my head in my hands
waiting for the patient little devil
whose hands create the winds that blow us to our knees
so that we may pray it, say it, pay it, play it
want it, need it
chalk it up to nothing more than a very bad day
or karma with a strap on
and believe you me
karma is most definately a coming
shes giving shape to thoughts
and placing hope where hope never dreamed of being
give it time to mend bend, wrend into this form you see before
this form that keeps on sliding, biting, fighting with all my might
to keep on loving, living, wanting, needing, running, breathing
and you are the center of my earth
but if you ever think of walking through that door
i will stop!

untitled first hope project

2006-09-23T20:04:00.000-07:00

and the yellow eyes of death
what give you your dying breath
burn from nothing but the best
which is the absence of all hope

and it is in these balls of flame
that dance the dead, both strong and lame
and all the souls that own the blame
for all the pain the world endures

and every pointing finger shows
what every righteous person knows
that all the hatred always flows
from every other human being

and now when nothing can be seen
nothing filthy, nothing clean
when love is few and far between
except for one's own self

a crack will open in the dark curtain
and although i am not certain
all the pain and all the hurtin'
will decrease a few degrees

and if you can stand on broken feet
and kiss the sun to spite the heat
then its with pleasure you will meet
the only one whom you can cope

you

yourself

can hope

disintegrate

2006-09-19T10:53:00.000-07:00

frightened
fixed
torture baked into eyes
that shake like salt
im dried up
tall paper on dust legs
bones that are sticks that are cotton
begging for water
but not water
that thing that is water
for the other body
the l word, the l word
i hate the l word
no one and everyone knows
the feeling you get
when you are unwanted
like a desert walking
like a dried up used thing
dying to be replenished
waiting forever for the sun to die
waiting to be touched
by anyone
who would dare
but the knowledge
that it will never happen
turns me again
from sand to glass
to dust to air
and back again
leaving me to wait
to disintegrate again tomorrow

Msgs

2006-08-10T12:07:00.000-07:00

fingers on home keys
eyes blurred, unfocused
crt buzzing silently
i receive a msg
SN: hope

Hope: You are stronger than you know
Hope: You are loved so much, by so many
Hope: You are worthy of being loved
CH: I am not strong, I cannot bear this
Hope: you are as you think you are
CH: things will never be the same with us
Hope: she still loves you
Hope: you know that

Hope has signed off 8/10/2006 (3:07 pm cst)

learn to hurt

2006-08-08T11:55:00.000-07:00

i was hope
puddling in the bottom
of a bucket
now dry
i was smiling eyes
pasted on crooked
gazing upward
above all
i was a heart with no direction
until now
god please help me
i am pointed in the wrong direction
but i cannot change it
i am headed for pain, forever
something i cannot avoid
i would give my life
to make it all better
but i know
no better would it be
i am not strong
i would break if i let go
and inside a note:
' i loved, and i failed'
how can the one thing
you're certain of
be wrong?
how could the heart ever lie?
how do you learn to hurt?

livebreathesmile

2006-07-31T13:34:00.000-07:00

from memory
to shadows
to me again
you've returned
like the sun
finding me
in my dark places
pulling me
from the ground
teaching me to
livebreathesmile
blessing me
if only for a moment
and leaving me
to wonder
how i ever lost you
in the first place
my friend

Longhorned

2006-07-28T17:56:00.000-07:00

home goes by flat and fast
from a car window on a dirt road
with barbed-wire trees and bullnettle leaves
when you're dreaming of somewhere else

home goes by flat and fast
with hot air you can swim through
as the Baptist beckons with Jesus on his shoulder
and the end of the world around the corner

there's a train, maybe, two miles off
10 to the highway
100 to the state line
1000 to here

home goes by flat and fast
from the splintered front step of the double-wide
while you listen to the grasshoppers shake in the grass
while you're waiting to be anywhere else

Deliberate me

2006-07-25T12:04:00.000-07:00

half sitting
waiting
hovering over porcelain
like the robin over her nest
seceding the remaining evidence into the sea
i listen
to water draining painfully from it's port
i read
the only WW i'll ever love
i admire how the paint
covers even the breakers on the wall
and i notice i'm moving not at all
only my eyes
my lungs
my thoughts
but i would keep those still if i could
and i trip/fall into my lover's bed
while i laugh/cry for my misfortune
and in life
i might be bury bottomed
but in my dreams i'm headed west
focused
forgotten
driving like i had somewhere to go
flooding the last day
with scenes from the first
and waiting
oh that unnerv'd waiting
for the when
when i will want no more

Pain Pavilion

2006-06-16T12:46:00.000-07:00

Forced with heated hands
to setup shop in the higher heart
I am left to wait
for the ticking
dry paper sounds
that tell me that its done
that love is sleeping
I hear words
and see voices that tell me
'you're alive'
or 'it could be worse'
but they dont live inside me
I have been torn from myself
and now i'm unknown to all
but the ground
(my bed)
where my skin invites mud
and sharp rocks
while I weep red ink
from all but my eyes
and I will walk the pain pavilion
one hundred days for every sigh
until loves alarm alights
and sends you home to me

other days

2006-06-12T14:30:00.002-07:00

other days are the same
less rain
more sympathy and wind
but the trees seem unmoved
i pass the smiles and frowns
the garden variety city filler
the pain is a generic prescription
do they all hurt?
i was told that they care
they just don't know it
how do you live alone
and yet surround yourself
books don't tell you this
other days
they are cheering in the stands
praising their maker faker
but today
burning homes and hearts
are on the menu
their eyes fall further
the shame becomes real
and fills us up
other days hands are shaking
and love falls like snow
but today.....today
we are in the open
and lost
led by the hand to the end of the line
the happy trails now far away
any other day i would sing for us all
but not today

Marching Machine

2006-05-01T06:57:00.000-07:00

The finger, the blame
the point is the same
information withheld
can only defame

the water, the world
the never will never
leave us holding our breath
or ask us to sever

the hero, the deed
the marching machine
turn people to numbers
and protect the unseen

the waking, the lifted
the plans to betray
for one minute and one year
have been on display

the music, the truth
the need for this note
to build a new destruction
or just keep us afloat

and still...

the worried, the lost
the worst of our wasted
while stripped of it all
have held to their graces

and the hope, the haunted
the stars, if they're turning
although they have fallen
are somehow still burning

but the purpose...
the reason...
the fuel for the machine
is lost in pages
blown like wages
buried deep and forever
under the skin of us all

Embrace

2006-04-13T11:26:00.000-07:00

The air finally gave way
to our own personal atmosphere
and now we are surrounded
by a kind of glass like fog
faintly glowing, softly humming
and this is the moment
that i have researched in books
film, magazine ads
but they were all lying
it's better
yet worse
the sharp pain in my back
tells me you're digging
and i pull in closer
i can still feel your lips
on mine seconds (hours?)
after they part
and your eyes transmit
exactly what i'm feeling
my skin is buzzing
and the inside soon follows
my feet are not touching a thing
and my hands,
who can say
this isn't a drug you consume
but one you inherit
like your beating heart
or your haunted voice
and i know this isn't real
i pull out of the daydream
but it stays, the knowledge
that the embrace isn't the thing
it's the moment after
that lasts forever

One more thing

2006-03-28T17:58:00.000-08:00

there are five things
the sounds of the winter band
strumming along to the beat of wind
the sight of the stoic bird
holding fast to the frozen ground
the feel of molded plastic
warming slowly to the touch
the taste of bitter sugar
slowly burning my tongue
but not a single smell
instead a secret thought
that has been a part of me
for a year times five
and when it opens
if feels just like the day
you decided to vanish
as if my heart had been replaced
by the air in my lungs
and perhaps i'm being dramatic
but now there are four things
as the music slowly fades
leaving me in silence
three, as the bird gives up
and carries it's frozen body away
to some better company
two as my hand goes increasingly numb
not that I would ever notice
and my tongue, now dry and empty
leaves only
one more thing
you
the thought of you
the thought of never seeing you again
will haunt me
stay with me
even after everything else has faded away

struggle, falter

2006-03-06T10:53:00.000-08:00

struggle, falter
bend, divide
try designing a hateless heart
with shaking hands
rise, bury
perish, survive
shower the world in fire
while announcing your demands
run, crawl
launch, recline
a body in motion
is lost to all time
lay, collapse
rescind, release
never, O never
till I have spoken my peace
listen, speak
retain, reply
it is over now, finished
but i couldn't say why

Circle of Nonsense

2006-03-02T19:07:00.000-08:00

Some days I'm happy, and the world is a wonderful
Cause kittens are adorable
And smiles cause euphoria
And chocolate is delicious
And I can hang my head out the car window
But, sometimes I remember the secret thoughts I'm not supposed to have
That everything dies
And the smiles are fake
And chocolate makes you fat
And people are watching and judging
However, nobody likes a downer...so I remind myself
That art is beautiful
And people are noble
And love is grand
And good will always prevail
Then, I laugh...cause those are all lies.
Cause art is meaningless
And all the nobles are dead
And love is a myth
And "good" is just the name of the winning team
Some days I laugh...cause the world is horrible.

(not) a dream

2006-02-15T14:27:00.000-08:00

i saw the steps ahead
and lowered down my heels
the spirit is speeding it's way
to the emergence, see
how i came upon the broken down
the weak, the false hearts
was this...
the grass snaked and shuffled
the wind carried my feet to them and back
words scattered like dust on a flat panel
and before my eyes a crowd,
of the all too familiar,
spread their minds along the waves of air
did they speak?
had i been spoken to?
where the colors just black and red?
trust is fire here
so i briskly walk the banks
searching 'scapes for all my shadows
though all i hear is laughing
i climb, again
the stairs to my home
the walls of my head
wherein lies my heart
where all the mistakes i made were chalkboard white
and while the next few steps
feel like walking backwards
i smile
and remember where i'm at
the stretched out road
with an end
of unending possibilities
but it's hard to get excited
when you know it's just a dream

My Life is a Music Video

2006-01-17T11:35:00.000-08:00

blurred squareshapes
surface from a silent ocean
venutian dancers spin and shimmer
as I suck down air
and succumb to the weight of boredom
I imagine I could smile
for the camera
and pantomime the operation
of almost any instrument
while digital effects
swim between the air
and your screen
I could make believe
like a boy with no worries
chase the girl with her head turned
fall in and out of love
in three minutes and fourty-four seconds
die and live and die again
all in time to a moving pop ballad
perhaps you would notice my face
and buy my product
throw your own self worth out the door
and tell all the children
'what you know is who you are'
how would that make me feel?
i would feel.....images
pixels
the buzz of tubes and burning air
three in the morning with no remote
half asleep and hearing me scream
'we will always be....' whatever
I could do these things
I have done these things
but I cannot stand one more video
to pass my eyes

We want you to see

2005-12-07T12:55:00.000-08:00

let the pain
jump from hands
to head
let the feet fall out
and the ground say goodbye
feel the quake
of nerves
and skin
lose the broken smile
and scream for the sun
to stay below
we want you to see
what you hid from yourself
the weightless thoughts of love
behind your eyes
under your tongue
tied down by that waiting hand
did you need to let us know
you were stale here, cold
sinking in carpet, sticking to walls
using words like smoke
hitting hearts and making way
for the big one
but while you hold the impulse
to start making sense
we'll ease you into the role
of a lifetime
start:
shift the vocal pitch
pivot from waist
wave from left to right
skirt the shark
but don't jump
and while you spill words
trip up the verse
and spend money like time
we'll run screaming
hoping you catch up
praying you realize,
above all, that we want you
to see

Music Magic

2005-12-02T17:23:00.000-08:00

The night air is brisk and heavy with the notion of rain as we hurry toward the club, ready for anything. The heavy pounding rhythm beckons to us, summoning us from the street. We join the short line just inside the door, and as I wait to pay the cover and receive admittance to the wonder that lies within, I survey my surroundings. Under foot, the carpet is crimson, complimenting the scarlet lamps and other red accents around the room. The rest of the colors are dark, eluding my eye. To the right is a wall, cutting me off from the dance floor, but I can see the bar past a short wall on the left. It’s a typical bar, covered by a smattering of empty or half empty glasses, with two attractive bartenders working steadily behind it. In front, people stand drinking or talking in various states of relaxation and drunkenness. I notice one in particular. He is lounging with his back to the bar, drink in hand, wearing black pants and a black pea coat. His short, black hair is gelled into a messy bedhead spike. He is wearing tiny round reflective sunglasses that just cover his eyes like silver dollars. His gaze is pointed in my direction, but the mercury pools hide his intentions. He could be looking at any number of things around me, and I realize with a jolt of surprise and pleasure that he may be looking at me. I pay the cover and a beautiful girl with jewels on her forehead places a paper bracelet on my wrist, signaling to everyone in the world that I can do what I want, when I want.

I stride up the curving walkway, eager to join the dance, but my friends need liquid courage to be able to celebrate. We go to the bar, and I drink a cranberry juice while they take their shots and their chasers. I wait impatiently, the music already causing my body to sway in time. Finally, finally, my friends breathe in the last of the amber bubbles, and we hurry to the floor, which is a big black space filled to the brim with noise and light, that swirls all around the bodies causing them to move and gyrate sensually. In the middle of the floor is a column from which grow wrought iron vines, twisting and turning up and along the ceiling like tree branches over our heads. These tendrils are covered with little white lights, which sparkle like fairies in the forest. All around are white and colored lights flashing and strobing in time to the music.

We find an empty spot and start to move. It takes a while to get into it, and finally my friends decide they need more libations. We go back to the bar. We pass him, the guy in the pea coat. We get our drinks, and we find an empty table where we sit and talk and laugh. All around us I see people in groups of two or three, drinking, laughing, and talking. I drink it in, along with my berry-red juice, sparkling with ice cubes that are still rough around the edges from their birth. The people all look so happy and relaxed. To my right a pretty girl flirts with a pretty boy, touching him, laughing, and tossing her hair, while her less attractive friends look uncomfortable and unhappy. I tell my friend and we smile about the girl’s oblivion to the sad plight of these ugly step-sisters. Right at that moment, while I am smiling my best smile, I notice the guy from the bar has moved around to a spot closer to where I am and seems to be looking at me again. He is holding a cigarette just like a man should, leaning casually with one elbow resting on the bar. The end of the cigarette glows orange in front of his fingers as the smoke drifts away toward the heavens. Again, we decide to dance.

We start toward the dance floor, and I suddenly realize that I have left my friends. I turn to find them and almost fall over the guy, who was walking right behind me. As a colony of butterflies fly in frenzied choreography around my stomach, I act like I don’t see him. I turn into a frightened doe and dart around him in pursuit of familiarity. I quickly find safety with my friends, and we go back to the dance floor, and this time the music is more motivational. As I start to dance, the white flashing lights blind me, stealing away my sight. I close my eyes and am carried away to a place where there is no me, only rhythm. I move and sway with the beat. My nostrils fill with the scent of sweat and smoke, but it doesn’t bother me, it’s all part of the music. This is no longer a dance club, it is a forest, full of magic and mystery. The fairies flit about overhead, drunken with our worship. I am jolted out of the music by my friend, who wants me to see that the guy, this Oberon, has taken off his pea coat and joined the dance. He now wears a black pinstripe shirt, and dances masterfully with a group of girls to my right. I tear my eyes off of him and concentrate on my own magic. Soon I realize he has moved around the circle and is dancing right next to me. I decide that I am Titania, I am Aphrodite. I pretend he doesn’t exist and that I am music and beauty. Soon he moves away.

My friends and I go outside for a respite, and the sky is shedding chilly tears. It refreshes us and clears our minds, freeing us from the shackles of the smoke and heat and soon we are ready to rejoin the revels. The music sweeps us back into its grasp, and we once again feel the movement and begin to make merry with the other worshippers of the night. My hair whips around my face, and my feet are free to move as they wish. Soon, Oberon is behind me again and is actually facing me as he dances. I fear him, but I decide to grab the moment and dare to look into his face and smile. I look back down and dance with all I am, but when I look back up the tide has carried him across the floor. I continue dancing, and soon he disappears. I realize he has left, and for me the magic is gone. The lights are just lights, the branches have been replaced by iron, and the music has lost its rhythm. I continue dancing until the end of the night, but it’s all for effect. The smoke has made my contacts fog up so that I am looking at the world through a white haze of clouds. When the music stops, the people tumble out of the forest that has transformed back into a normal building on a normal street, and my friends and I trudge tiredly across the sparkling wet pavement toward the car, tasting the cold air. I look back briefly and see Peaseblossom, Cobweb, Moth, and Mustardseed scamper away, giggling happily in the night.

Untitled

2005-11-29T15:14:00.000-08:00

short fall
to the next line
every page is 12 inches
five pages
and you could break something

measure the world
by the lack of words
and you're bound to find
a hole in the plot
irrepairable, unfinished, undone

and when reading is romance for one
and flooded hearts are all the rage
the words come parading down the margin
to find us all erasing the past
just for fun

b (00) m!

2005-11-01T16:43:00.000-08:00

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.