I heard the fan retching
sporadically.
The free will and spontinuity of machine.
It hit like a hammer every time,
that was the one and only guarantee.
And so,
god willing,
I moved my seat.
prepared and willing to accept nothing but pure;
unrefined concentration.
Flashback so, so many years ago.
I was woken to my ceiling crumbling down
and yes,
I did scream.
How strange,
yet strikingly funny:
At this age
I still fell like the walls are narrowing
and the ceilings are caving in.

was it ts eliot or whitman?
whoever.
that coined the lowercase "fuck you" attitude
of some punk poets capitalizing on a caseless sensitivity
a revolutionary amongst man and his lifeless linguistics
why so modest?
an "i" becomes more and more subservient
demurred into a complacent and braindead contentedness
humility at its finest.
it was never the aesthetic of rebellion
like catching a sentence half dressed
completely desensitized.
a period so irrelevant,
even the beats gave a shit for a hot minute.
there is nothing all that special about you and i
let us keep it that way.

a shattered wrist reaching out towards
the undeniable scoffing of all your trophies
smudged with prints and at-home stitches
no.
they just dont make them like they used to
but really, where to start?
there were yellowed grinning polaroids
and heart shaped confetti
under the glass that was replaced
next to the soot in the fireplace
that would remain in indefinite disuse
i was in love
and you
you were a stone
moss covered but proud
stubborn and bruised
likened to a broken bottle
christened this humble ship
sailing clear past my head
and into complete nothingness

god himself did see sparks
in a sense
infinite
and unconditionally yours

just look at us taking pictures of ourselves

under veils and masks with wires sticking out from our lapels

there we are standing unconscious of our constant review

as if the shutter stops down and marvel at how far we have come


god forbid that i ever had a hammer

i would make your troubles piss amongst the fire of an ocean

its a shallow fucking thought but ive got to bare in mind

its a sign of whats to come and we'll dissolve.


ive got to gouge the brilliance out of my fucking head

ive got to tear it out before it tears through me


youre breaking up but i can tell just from your voice

that they took much more than just those lucid dreams you couldnt bare

the prescription strength retreat that makes you so aware at night

then the awful state of soundness through the silence in your eyes



cause while we sleep they are stationed up at dawn

to clip our wings so freedom rings an outright lie

backed up against a dresser and other upturned furniture


you wanna see an irrational man?



How can you sleep at night?

knowing theyve turned a man upon himself

why cant they sleep at night?

i never knew and i never will.

found this in my wallet, back from when i played a show in philly:


If youre done drowning
and the restless stay deprived
how do these jailbird's final words
relate to the amount of space youre taking?
sprawled about the floor
a grain a salt still spoiled my appetite
ive got to gouge the brilliance out of my head.

i fancy myself a drinker
and liken myself to john wayne
watch great amounts of reality
and become disillusioned with tranquility
time is telling me i may need a pair of bifocals
but clarity was never one of my strengths
i still havent my match
or an ol maid wishing me to settle down
inseparable from soundness
and incorrigible to boot
toward the desert and back
a stiff drink and a tip of the hat

they granted me wings to survey the heavens
to take nothing for granted and just sing praises
glory be
glory be
honestly
i'm not one to complain,
but i just saw it differently
not these stop and go
cash crops and cattle
parading their virtues
on a miniature scale of macy's
a colony of camaraderie
ridicule of higher power
and why not our integrity?
i had hoped for so much more
glory be
but nothing
i cant even hear myself over their god damn whining.
as the chimneys bare close resemblance to crooked teeth
i was never complaining
i just saw it differently.

older

none wiser

and finally

but unfortunately

being able to accept conformity

coming to terms

more like brandishing an awkward sword

in the midst of all those unhappy endings

I just know

someone out there has it right

i may never meet you

i will never be you

a girl can dream

under the glass ive drained,
next to the puddle ive spilled:
now circling relentlessly
in search of some grand exit.

im sorry white spider.
but it was you, my friend,
that first startled me
in my promised time of sleep.

to witness your skinny legs
eventually giving up hope
as you slow to a halt...sigh.
so much for an escape act.

one solid window wall
as i sit, solemnly studying
the endless patterns and teeth.
one day i swear ill set you free

just when did i become an actor?
tired of playing the almighty hand

but not quite as weary and lonesome
a clear cage sits hapless on its side
and my sole prisoner makes no haste
to die by someone else's stupid hand

all ive got left is this halfassed crime
where im sitting there distraught
wondering just whos going to be
that someone cleaning up after me

god?
are you listening?

practice makes perfect
or have i always been this callow?
propped up against this glass
like a neon beacon homecoming
til the resident spirits in my chest
come out to take your jacket.
we're painting pictures of ourselves
in the condensed fog of it all
with our tiny extending digits
thumbing through these awful times
there must be volumes of novels
each with their corners folded on
as if it could make this moment.
would it make this last any longer?
and my reply:
to each his own,
followed by a long and awkward pause.
i don't think i'll ever get it right.

its surreal standing here
sulking in this very moment
and in the pity focus lead by some sorry hand
everything becomes so irrelevant and sour
i cant believe; see, in those tender plots
i wont compensate for a limp climax
there are places for hounds like you and i
count on the weather
for a better
stronger
cancer.

my disguise is the substance

just a pasty white cloth

humming near the harbor.

even the scathing rats dont mind

here on my bench struggling

to stay conscious

when the shudder of my eye

cursed the glimmering in the sea

pulsing like the plague

and god only knows

what kind of chase im fixing

when satisfaction guaranteed

chokes back a chorus of laughter

god only knows why im joining in

the sound of a cannon
raising its voice in a well lit room
crooned the sleep out of me
till i was abuzz in the same
to clear its vinyl throat
but never shorten the fuse.

while sordid players fell in vain
through acrid walls of smoke
i began to count how blessed i was
but could not get past my thumb.
now all i can think about
is how cautious we've become.

taking a step back or two
to mull in all the damage.

broken window shopper
i swear, i'm just browsing.

those perfect white teeth
burrowed into oblivion
winding down peacefully
on your vivid whim
such senseless dreams
watered down; wasted.

i left you for another
one cheaper though bitter
after all those crucial nights
ducking down congested streets
all the same, i can't get over
how callous i've become.

placing down the hammer
no one needs to know.

dying so humble
why even bother?

post war,
he was the bitter old man
who taught me how to laugh
instead of hate.
my unknowing mentour
coughed.

marbletop counters crop the living daylight
out of my hybrid headache, this isnt sunlight
these are the subsiding side effects, tomorrow
im gonna wake up and rip off these tired stitches
build a tall house, get hitched, and count my tips
this is the weight of my high hopes in practice
in times when my trembling skin pays in full
where there is just never enough time to lose
on questioning when and where ive gone wrong
painstakingly difficult, but now just uncertain
my ten fingers have never been so impatient.

was a fat kid eating a sandwich
passing through a parking lot
with a friend back from lunch
while the smell of grease
was probably rising with the smoke
coming out of that fast food joint

was the light staying that color
for was seemed like an entire decade
sitting there motionless and dilated
there through the frostbitten glass
one left turn, a merge, and pot holes
suddenly stopping; never a rhythm

one of these days
i'm going to drop
everything
and make my way
onto the country

period

i wont say goodbyes
or take much of my
belongings
just spin the knife
then up and leave

period

my critics say
i am metaphorically
implying
that i need you
to gut me

period

when they actually
do notice that i'm
missing
i will take up my
profession in pottery

period


tonight i admitted
toying with death is
addicting
i'm not ashamed of
my vice's instability

period.

so, did you hear the news
about the wasted youth?

their fragile little lives
taken with regretful truth.

they were such nice boys,
such young, nice, boys.

snatched from right jaws of adulthood.
never to view their fruits of labor

oh lord, how could a tragedy like this
happen in such a quaint little town?

our deafeningly quiet little town.

home to the future leaders of tomorrow
the ones that were going to get real big

big and strong, smart and rich
wake up, and piss excellence.

just look at all they have done for this society

i mean, i'm just so shocked
we've been ever so careful

in raising doves
we've bred wolves

so tell me lord:
where have we gone wrong?

tell me who should deserve
a mournful sentence like theirs

written on some scrapyard stone
sinking in a middle class sea

so calm, and serene

and if you listen close
you can hear it.

nothing.

this place
and its people

so very silent.

how will we ever
move on without them?

criminal! oh villain, petty thief!
given the chance to pawn your off soul
youre the first on line to cash in
for a few more minutes of pure heaven
youre a runner at heart, but still a kid
and no home will never welcome your sins
such deep pockets, empty, youre vacant
another night virtually transparent
frigid, staring back at a concave light
distraught, hath no faith, hath no heart
so very young, youre an afternoon special
a glimpse to a future of dealing corrupt
take what you can get and give what you owe
oh you owe so much more than you'll ever know

listen.
i consider myself a very reasonable man
maybe one with questionable goals
and an inability to find sleep...
but still a man nonetheless.

in between the static of a dismantled television
and the stuttering shitstorm radio
i need not ponder over my belligerent ways
or taking modern crooks by thier grubby hands
onto their pitiful and longwinded death
before they drag us all down with them

as to why i did end the flickered tube
flashing faces and neverending information
and that hand set mind fuck
spewing garbage and filth
day in
and day out
look beyond youre need for entertainment
and find some better way to waste away
just try.
read between the lines
before youre stuck between the barcodes
of god awful beauty products
and dick enlargement pills
yes.
white noise cures the common cold
clear your ears
of the nonsense sunsets they burn into your skull
those fucking naysayers and their get rich quicks
always got an answer flushed down with grime
the kind of mindless jingles you know by heart
terrible and confident that youre brain is washed
so very clean
please
i'm not the sovereign saint of all that's quiet
but even i can tell you there is no cure for silence.
wade past the sewage and siphon out the gold
all i'm saying is
listen.

chipped beaks raised sky high
saluting my hunger
day by day i learn the same things
that our stomachs remain angry
and patience is such a tease
looking up towards white
light fixtures sputter god
am i dreaming?
this comfy cloud
these conscious legs
just keep flailing about
down the viscous ground.
these wings weren't made just to wait my turn
tell me, whens it my time to rise with the sun?
modern comfort splurged on generous quills
these tempered twigs aint no harpstrung heaven.

CHIVARLY
words mean nothing to a corpse
left to rot some cold trench
holding on for your dear life
former trust turned into debt
can you recall your little promise
of the backs you claimed to have?
or the heart you said you'd cross
and the death that followed it?

COMPANY
now was it hard just to neglect
the kids youve got back home?
yeah youre all grown up son
with fresh blood to condone
so please forgive me when i say this
no its not likely you'll listen
people come and go more often
when youre the one thats leaving

MUTINY
let your brotherhood arise
as it once has done before
and dispose of all the evidence
with an eerily familiar score
there's still the motionless mound
of bodies reddening the field
while you were busy catching up
we were busy getting killed

MISERY
if theres anything ive learned
from being abandoned and alone
its that the one hand that you need
will leave you dead and gone
so much for chivalry
or the bliss of ignorance
cause when you come home a hero
youve got another nameless face

sometimes i think
that ive seen too much
more than enough
to hold me off
like looking for gold
but finding the truth
in searching for such
this has made me blind

im just so tired,
of seeing mindless youth
forcefed lies for facts
vacant little eyes
and mumble mouths
these are the kids
that will grow up one day
and destroy everything
everything youve created

im just not surprised
with the hastily dug graves
that we make for ourselves
mouths spewing garbage
plaguing every house
this is the life you lead
and youre taking everyone
everyone down with you.

now im not one to say
that ill miss this place
or the people that glare
past their pitiful selves
when it all comes down
its so easy to let go
when theres nothing,
nothing to hold on to.

crossdressed statistics masked in metaphors of happiness
constantly weaving in and out of her hotwired heart
counting down the steps it takes to take a humble breath
it costs more on the street and youre hardly worth a cent
oh my, her eyes are flooding out, shes fleeing from the scene
triumph and a pill, iodine veins or weightloss diet schemes
it takes this long to watch fears materialize from sins
breeding ruthless dogs of war out of timid paper dolls
can you feel it brush against you skin? can you sense a thing?
bottled water, prescription drugs, an endless supply of sympathy.

i was never ashamed of the truth as I searched for a pulse
pounding life into this motionless marionette
i sport my permanent smile though it never adds up
through a morose tinted window, shes counting on miracles

I'm not the man i used to be, here's to this empty shell.

It's getting ha-ha-harder
to remain this constant
there's a monster in my place
and some ghosts in my closet
so i trudge through the depths
while i sink through the dirt
they've got you by the throat
and shaking out your conscience
there's barely ever any change
but that's not whats promised
its getting ha-ha-harder
to remember why you've started

I've kept my head clear of blissful sleep
laugh at the stories i used to believe
with the clothes on my back and yellow teeth
hardly working for some inner peace
hold my head high and keep my nose clean
get a good job or serve my country
wear myself out and eventually
turn into dust and dissolve into nothing.

this is your life: look sharp. look busy.
carry that weight until you bleed.
open your hands, count your blessings.
close your eyes, pretend you're happy.
this is your life...

oh its a shame
to be so afraid
at such a young age
this is your life.

(Oct 19 - written in response to the question of what language means to me)

on any walk oh i do see
mouths open and close
incessantly
and the sound it never stops
endless chatter to feed the masses.

always
there is something to be said
even if its been said
time and again
alone and on the go there are ears and handsets

in a lifeless forest, if you listen closely
you can hear the low roar of a million vocal chords
but here is where i stand on a tiny mountain
with no need for small talk, i am short and precise
my aim is always dead on, and the point is full of holes

what im saying is i dont always have something to say
when i have no interest in your mindless conversation
what i mean is completely taken out of context, damn
its just so easy to offend an innocent victim of bad timing
so there are times i just keep my awful mouth closed

i say what i feel and sometimes thats just sounds
and theres just so much confusion, not only with you
but to myself, there are time i am never sure,
is that so wrong? i just want to scream!
why do i always have to have the answers?

I have this funny thought
that the lexicon of today
doesnt have a clue of whats to come
what if the future
regresses to the past?

the fluid language we know very well
completely disintegrates into nothing
all that would be left are a few letters
something i call a mess of vowels
the people of tomorrow will speak in:

aaaaa's,
eeeeee's,
iiiiiiiiiiii's
oooooo's,
and uuuu's

but never y's.
no more questions.

it never amounts to what you build up in your head
sugar sweet thoughts and rosie red kisses
hands link together to form a bond so unbreakable
coats and scarfs walking against the coldest nights
just wanting to prove that we were worth something

ive got the cheers theme song on constant repeat
but i just cant relate to the message its pounding into me
going to a place where everyone knows my name
i dont think ill ever know how lovely that must feel
but for now i'll open each door ready for a surprise

(delayed from 0ct 5 2006 - 11:00 pm. well into the wait)

i was thankful, for a change
still i feel the guilt build
no matter what you have
or what youve lost
you will always be tired

everyone's off having a grand old time
while im off wondering what im doing wrong
forced into so many ridiculous situations
pretending to listen to open conversation
i know the cure to so many bad habits
yet im confined into this little corner store
sipping coffee and reading a paper
wondering when and why the world will end
happiness is not the word that comes to mind
when everything comes crashing down
theyve got their cameras clicking
while youre clutching your mouth
and curled up in the safest position
it doesnt end till someone says
"roll the credits already, for god's sake."

i just want the world to believe that i am happy
the fundamental smile that i carved into my face
it will never mean a thing.

(written september 18 2006: before there was a fear of slow death)

whatever made him this way
must have been the lowest of low
shuffling his feet one after the other
down the busy street, which would remain busy,
trying to make the best of these relentless days.

how could life become so demanding on a single soul?
why is living such an rhetorical question?
nothing is finished until your dead
and thats only an end by technicality.

maybe the real meaning of life was to be unhappy.
you havent lived life until you suffered a whole lot.
who ever's driving your destiny must have an awful sense of humor.
your guardian angel...yeah, hes off getting drunk and hitting on the dumb blonds at the bar.

No matter what they say, you are the center of your universe.
Do you really wait until a speeding car hits you or do you move out of the way.
Yes, with no hands on the steering wheel you would not make it very far.
I heard this all from a man preaching to all those that pretended to ignore him.

he raised one angry fist to the sky and screamed:
"All i ever wanted was a closer shave!"

the corporate horsemen unite on this cold autumn avalanche
"it was a good run my friends, but we have had it coming"
all that was left
we are the sparrows that lined the ground
and the tracked mud on the crimson carpet
the death of the king chimes the song of a beast
we are free we are free
we are finally free
no more birds singing songs of nature and leaves
im a fraction of a whole chorus angels lifting us all
nothing coming my way and you want to know why
its the time its the time
its the valuable time

theres a cold front coming
from every direction
yet i cant feel a thing
and im doing just fine
its just the season
passing right through me
and our condesing breath
painting the saturated sky
its our very special walk
on very lovely day
every shade of red,
nonshalantly sheen
ive covered up my fate,
in layered shameful sleeves
the paper lies piled up
mixed throughout
dead mountain trees
last years world news
todays pornagraphic overture
welcome home,
you worthless piece of shit
we can finally agree
on one of many things
its our concrete kingdom
shattered honestly on repeat

i hope you are well,
i can promise you this
you can count on me
just to let you down

i was once a child, but here i am
now somewhat of a man
ive climbed this hill for years
in search for solid ground
but i dont see the point
im just so tired.

Theres a shade of green
that i just cant explain
ive become rather fond of
the things i cant name
yes the drunkard in me
ill put him back where he came
oh the habits one cant amend

I once had a name
but i sold it for time
this path has led me to learn
that you can only rely on yourself
im tired of talking to myself
i think ive ended the relationship
with the only person i could depend

the pain in my feet
is the only feeling here
now the only thing i want
is the gift of sleep
im not worried of the end
one missed step
and im back where i began

oh what a wonderful feeling
to be empty again

to explain my absence:
fuck you and your crew.


i'm back.
(but it's only been 2 months...)
nobody asked you.

looking back at my former flock i wonder how it all went wrong
the lies about of unity and strength crumbling right to the ground
like pickaxe arrows in an emergency landing, we went down so fast
the mangled branches reaching so far out towards the infinite air
snapping our wings like twigs, we braced for the worst of impacts
at least we could remember better times with what we had left
i have no worry that things will stay the same, only spare change
in tune with the inconsistent weather just waiting for a break
the superficial sunshine may have caught us in its harpstrung webs
but the light in your eyes betters the images of a ragdolls descent
now ghosts of the night hover the sky over the playset scenery
reminding me to breath when i finally reach light of the surface
i wont get my hopes up.
ill never look back.
but this time for real.
goodbye small river town.
goodbye big city blues.
goodbye everyone.

i suppose theres something i did find wonderful about the wilderness
even if its endless sea of trees tend to make me sick to my stomach
feet flat on the ground i could turn right around encircled by green
lying dead on my back if i survive this night i will learn to love again
there are just too many ways to question your motions and motives
under gods living tent of trees and this dead space of the starlit sky
that night maybe i did give something back to the earth, my youth
i stomped that out like the dying fire crying out to end his agony
but none of this is what is so wonderful about the horrible forest
it was a man-made miracle and the sound of folk singers saving my life
through the wires of a machine filling my ears with hopeful thoughts
right before and after i understood that one day will end all others
everything i could ever learn would never prepare me for tomorrow

today i choked on the ashes of tomorrow
but i didnt care that it had ever been said
yesterday i engraved my name on every tombstone
where i read aloud my hopes and dreams
moments ago i shook hands with my own ghost
and told him that it didnt matter being transparent
in a couple of years ill be witnessing my own funeral
to laugh at how hard people are trying not to laugh
right now i am flying through the clear glass window of whatever
waving and blowing kisses to my former fans and photographers
every day
any time
every feeling
any place
you will find me
lying face first in your beautiful bed of roses
just to notice that the bed is not mine.

**retrospect**
i paid my life away in three easy installments of 99.95
and prayed to your asphyxiated god with my membership fees
so do send me every tape on how to be a success in life
how?
how did you know i was awake and overweight?
please.
show me your miracle cure for hair and love
bury me in the pile of nudity and self-respect
gouge my eyes with every product you can shit out
sex money power and politics
all fed through a meat grinder.
if this is how its going to end,
i think ill get off here.
no really.
make it stop.

a haiku written during freshman year:

My wings are taken
I feel lost in the big world
I am left behind

a haiku written now:

wasted ambition
everything i touch crumbles
but still im sorry

there are alot of things im going to miss.
things ive once taken for granted.
It happens every so often,
a little thing i call progress
taking the tinniest of steps
being cautious of our footing
taking the deepest of breaths
slowly down the narrow road

like an old film go our lives
flickering strips of light
witnessing the past
through dirty glass
carefree days and
nights actually slept
blurred to
dormant days
and fucked up nights
Oh things were just so simple then
and suddenly development
our brains could hold more than we thought
and we thought and thought until it hurt
yeah repetition gets old pretty quick
and moving on seemed to fill the blanks
while we left the past to rot in the corner

no longer can we play favorites in life
for they'll one day lose all meaning
i'm done trying to gather up the pieces
i know for sure that its like clockwork
i will never know the feeling it once brought me
a few favorite songs have lost their rotation
some needy friends have come and gone
and a total outlook on life has led us to loss
now all thats left is the blazing glory
that we once felt was necessary
an amber flood exeunt

oh what messures we take
to realize that we are alone
down the narrow road
we are all that we have
intentional it may be
i am constantly losing everything
but failure has never left me
life is anything but a dream

happy little trees on my happy little canvas
god bless us and this wilting landscape
chalk and charcoal shade the shadows
to burn and bruise depict decay
where every stroke is a pat on the back
and vinyl etchings form harmonic dilution

here, the season paints itself into the ocean
polluting even the clearest of shallow waters
in the earliest hours of this godforsaken morning
smokestacks billow through the variable clouds
debris rises up through the width of the waves
and an SOS submerges, never to be seen

but there will still be scavengers coming and going
fluttering away from these pale opportunists
viewing the sea set flame to the cotton candy horizon
it opened its mouth and welcomed the triumph
coughing up the mute colors that painted the sky
shipwrecks dont save themselves now do they?

oh what an awful morning
to clean these rusted scalpels
you will never shine
the way you did
before your first incision

they say i have a special gift
to make beauty from shit
or maybe one day they'll see
the stupid mistakes
they are gladly making

but what a profitable way
to turn medical procedures
into modern miracles
your pitiful loss
is my humble gain

ive more cards up my sleeve
to give to the poor souls i see
its as if theyve blinked
to see a flood of doves
or a sparkling bouquet

oh my lovely assistant
is clawing past my cape
from depth my hat
not a rabbit
but a horrible set of teeth

god forgive me
for what im gonna do
watch in horror
as i saw her in two
now in pieces
shes no longer confused
toss the veil
shes new and improved
another mess satisfied
mop up the truth.

now you dont.

to traffic these fucking fields with turncoat sympathy
please persuade me not to vomit all over this landscape
open my tired eyes so i can soak in the wreckage
console me with the sounds of a your weary mouth
ive done such an awful job of raising my words
it almost makes me wonder whos the father.

ive never felt better in my life, thanks for asking
thank you fellow astronauts and jackals
for this beautiful bouquet of rampant flowers
thank you with a chisel and hammer
i accept this gift granted the silence
now i can get back to what i started

plow the shallow streets with tacit harmony
i could talk about myself for days and days
so stop me in the filthy tracks while you still can
onward! onto the untouched horizon
lets make haste, before the sun's vile gut
a wrecking ball bursts, "just look at what ive done!"


give me back the land i so graciously bestowed
upon the lackluster misgiving ive come to know
give me back the feelings of awkward green
bulit up to the brim with a lack of fertility
god giveth
and god taketh back

i killed time
with my cold dead hands
while i choked the life
out of lifeless crowds
there once was a time
i was sure of my life
but grip ive got
is ever so tight
how could i ever let go?
oh, this must be
such a sight to see
how would i know?
oh, i just dont have it in me.
then why cant i pry my eyes off
this burning catastrophe?

its a high wire
high five
high output
dance to the singing
and vacant ghosts
are we really alone
in this frigid home?
this place is starting
to give me the chills.

how can i reserve
the right to assume
that the walls
are caving in?
how do you do?
my name is
irrelevant.
where do you go
when you learn
youve been replaced?
who do you turn to
when your questions
are unanswered?

there are no words
to explain my doubt
you can fumble with numbers
and work it out
while i wash my hands
of this endless filth
from the endless sea
of sound and guilt.
oh oh.
no matter how hard you scrub
you will never become clean

oh the floor is still creaking
and how i wish i could forget
that the woods been warped for years,
i don't need you reminding me.
with every step i take
you're a hammer on the keys
playing taps to the ghosts
just please stop reminding me.

i have seen the city at dawn
i know the sun for what its worth
still im sure ive seen better days
but some things are worth witnessing


losing my touch, i think so

looks like its another stand-still for now
untill then, best wishes

landmine

now lets welcome bloodloss
with more alcohol
and consume an unhealthy amount
of comedic timing

dancing helplessly despite the flames
singing triumph over deafening screams
portray the horror filling your face
paint the canvas blanking the blank.

how long have i been sleeping?

my company allows me the time when they think they have enough pity to offer.
my company sold me out for something new and now im on hold.
my company claims im out of my mind and i wouldnt mind, if they were joking.
my company wont look me in the face, perhaps im contagious.
my company forgot to tell me about the plague: cough, cough, cough.
my company broke some promises or maybe im just gullible.
my company knows how to let me down with just enough class to get by.
my company loves the sound of my loneliness, it shows by the cackles.
my company should pay me for my jokes but im paying for them right now.
my company nudged me away until i found myself at the bottom a cliff.
my company looked surprised when they saw me limping through the door.
my company asked me, "why the long face?" and i replied, "nay."
my company took the very thing from me that kept me from actually going crazy.
my company will never know whats grinding me down, those bastards.
my company might one day remember how i used to do "that thing that made us laugh."
my company would feed me to the wolves with no second doubt.
my company sure is glad that they arent in my situation.
my company is the burning in my chest, and that isnt love.
my company enjoys the nightlife while i indulge myself in paint thinner.
my company, oh, its been a grand time, but really, i think i should be heading home
my company? what company? i work alone.

if we walk at this pace, we'll make it to where ever we're going. I know i cant keep up a conversation but at least i can hum a tune, something to keep our minds off the broken roads. I can feel the sky slow to a dead stop, I can feel gravity working against me. Its like clockwork, my friend, its a damn shame. Theres a picture in my mind that i kept for safe keeping, though i really cant describe it or maybe im just afraid of what you'll think of it. Im sorry, i cant help stuttering, its just so cold and quiet. If you listen close enough you can hear our mouths chatter. You know...Theres a time for everything, I think whatever "it" is will become an artifact and nothing more. Its only a matter of time. The earth beneath us is just so unforgiving. I can feel the ground move under our feet. In these eyes I think i can see what we were looking for in the horizon but im not sure if its worth it. How can i be sure that anything is worth something when ive never had anything. Theres a peice of me that wishes i could ask you these question, though I dont want to come off as someone pretending to care because im not sure that i do. No, i'm not mr. optimism, I'm the leftovers, you know that. If this was all an island at least i could wait for a message in a bottle. Some kind of contact from this all, you have to admit this is getting a little old. To be honest im really interested in what youre thinking, im brave enough to ask you but im saving that courage for something else. am i selfish? yeah. and what good is asking a question when you already know the answer. Its been so long since ive had a change of scenery, if i were to replace you with another it would probably be the same, we can live like ragdolls again and again. They say if you stare at the sun you'll lose youre sight, well im not sure if the last thing i want to see is a burning white light, but this has got to end. At the bottom, maybe theres an answer. its a long way down from where im standing, i can hear the echo of my heart beat. i guess this is what it feels to be a hollow shell; it makes me wonder why i was ever so carefull. with your absence im finally sure of what was right, this is not it. this is not what i had in mind, this is not the way i wanted to go out. These heights are dizzying, this sun is relentless. From where im standing everything is a blur, everything is a murmur. Theres a crowd forming as if this is some kind of spectacle, a magician's final stunt, waiting for a miracle. Well arent they in for a surprise. I can hear them chanting and if i could hear what theyre saying it would most likely be, "jump you fool, just do it, stop hesitating." Instead all i hear is a low roar and Im still wondering if i should find myself closer to this nothing noise.

having creative differences...with my self

oh my
oh my
oh my

quitings' a sinch
quitings' a bitch
you know what they say:
5th times a charm

you cant fire me,
i quit!

it isnt the glow of neon truth flushing out your eyes
its the chemical indifference
and what lies between the lines
the triumphant return of a dark horse
or a struggle in the weeds
that moment of clarity
and the lack of certainty
we will leave here lifted
from whatever curse that has plagued us
we will count our scars
and forge them into nothingness
isnt life a loss
isnt it?

granted

noonehastimeforanuneasymind.

always got your back
chivalry, she never felt so awkward
point blank, yet so far from the truth
i know where i can go if i need some company
or plague my insides near a polluted river
fuck this,
im going on vacation.

p.s.
i'm still waiting.

quietly down the stairs,
holding on to that mirror
like its an extension of your arm
why are you running from a reflexion
that you dont even find familiar?
something tells you youre not wanted
or was belonging a crime?
one of these things is not like the other
or did it change while you were gone?
they say you could have been a star,
well theres a crater in the ground
someone told you that you had a pretty face,
so you threw it out a window.

overlooking the falling sky
we sat and shot twenty questions
counting down those precious seconds
that are now crushing down on you
and down you go

laying on the harsh ground
we swore we saw the shapes of clouds
or was it gods shallow light
looking down on you?
drowning you out.

painting the blue in a shade of red
we laughed about regrets
over a full bottle of bourbon
and i forget to look up
or whatevers left

just look out side and tell me the sky isnt falling
i'll tell you the walls are just caving in
but at least i have you to welcome these days
with a solemn sarcastic grin

you say its discouraging out there,
so let me pick up where you left off.
because im not easily impressed
by what everyones got
and what you have
is what everyone lacks.
its a shame to put that all to waste.

-landmine

is it that much to ask? all ive ever wanted was someone to connect the dots with,
you start there and ill start here, we'll meet somewhere in the middle
cause right now theyre just periods on a page and no one but you could ever make sense
so wont you pick up a pen and make this mess something picturesque?

laying on the side of a freeway
with a bad case of amnesia
singing: 'how could i have lost
what i have never known?'
ive seen your face before
but dont think ive got your name
its on the tip of my tongue
but nothing rings a bell.

in a broken phonebooth
i clutched my wounded side
and whispered all those sweet nothings
through a detached receiver
speaking for the dial tone
i told the operator "i'm yours."

making friends is so much easier
when you get past the fact
that theyre your hostages

so say goodbye to this house's imperfections
you'll never see it
nor anything, ever
again.

no,
nothing seems sacred any more.
are the roots of trees
sprouting through the gravel?
is the sun in the sky
peeking through the smog?

nothing says i love you
like a parachute.

On a simple mission to start this on a personal note,
Please:

remind me again why were still dancing
on this warped wood floor
take my hand
and my lead
with a spin
and a twirl
all eyes on the mercenaries.



I am horribly afraid of heights.
and finding the truth
that someday i'll find myself surrounded by water
circled by sharks.

So remind me why were still swimming
in the depths of my lungs
gasping for breath
grasping for life
sinking like boulders
fresh for the picking
what a horrible way to go.

baby, theres a gun in the glove compartment
next to the pile of bills and the conviction notice
just like we wanted
that dollhouse that barbie dreamed of

baby theres a bank with our name (carved) on it
sometimes they had it coming
just call it payback
that we're taking what is rightfully ours

baby theres a bomb in that empty apartment
guess we should find a new hideout
just like the last one
that pile of bricks will never be looked over


baby theres some heat in the coalmine
we wont go cold in this death cabin
just woods and the wilderness
that lovely thing they call getting in touch with nature

baby theres a shovel in the trunk space
we cant leave our tracks all covered in blood
just dont look into that lifeless face
that sight will haunt you to the grave

baby theres a band-aid in the cabinet
it looks worse than it hurts
just dont forget me when im gone
that wonderful guy that got you in this mess (of vowels)

i had a dream

i couldnt sleep

the scary thing

is its happening


i swear it now,

no it couldnt be,

the funny things

i could never see


the global watch

could never keep

the amount of time

that i'm wasting

who are you to tell me what to do with my organs?
because
the more i pour down my throat
the less i think of you
and
with another hand on my mouth
i finally get to enjoy the nightlife

and you sat back and sighed
"oh how i love my job
how i love my job
how i love my job!"
there is nothing
so senseless
to hold my jaw

this would have never happened
if they only thought about the children

I dont understand the amount of time it takes to blend in with a sea of slow moving gravel,
or the lowered expectancy of their life spans
they came here for sloppy seconds
so we gave them something real to squeal about

not long ago
there was a time
when we loved the thrill
of raising our arms
when we opened our mouths
and drank all the blood
of what would become
something more than a hunt

what began as a game
with some minor rewards
reddened their eyes
with bloodthirsty stares
something to do with the hips, i see
something that was drooling from their lips, i see

"we started this bar fight
we're swinging our fists
theyre fighting for something
that they'll never get
we started this bar fight
we know how it'll end
were fighting for something
we tend to forget."

"so when you pile on weight
just be prepared
the end result
is a colony's death
when you pile on weight
we'll buckle and bend
its happened before
it'll happen again"

"Ive seen it all
on burning bright islands
these lurid dreams
are searing these lens
ive seen it all
on blank faced whores
these sights i see
are more than eyesores"

"never again will I subject myself to those murderers
never again will I endorse the innocence of lovers

If these dying moments werent in hymn
let it be known, let them sing"

(trumpets)

"oh nectar, sweet nectar
i don't blame you for your absence at my funeral
oh nectar, sweet nectar
this composite dirt has never felt so vacant"

I know exactly how i do
filleting the merchants
that sell me the same fortune
give me back to the ocean
wrap a bow with my tentacles
slowly i know it
were moving faster and farther
away from the ridges of the pavement
in the same ol song and dance
we read into our futures
on the back of a pack of cigarettes
just like it has been
and will always be.

dont worry about me

im fine on the floor

give me the gun
and i'll fix you up.
give me the gun
and i'll fix you up.
give me the gun
and i'll fix you up.

the tinman sent his resume to the local chop shoppe
only to come home with another hole for a heart
he spewed oil by the gallons till he finally dropped
when a drifter came a long and put him in a shopping cart
he sold his shiny armor to the refinery
just enough scrap metal for about seven fifty
now strolling the rusting streets of this twisted city
half holding his bottle now half empty.

todays lesson will be brought to you by revenge
my lack of a spine
and the pills i just thought about shoving in my mouth

it began with no bang
your heart was an organ
and your arteries were clear,
my name is nicholas
the alarum bells woke me
and i rose in panic
as i always do
then i blacked out
as i always do

but this day was different

it was a sad little corner i painted myself into

you told me, "if there was ever a time to show any sort of emotion, now would be the time"
"now get up."

fear: what a wasted emotion that drives everything into brick walls all around the world at the convenience of none. Im sorry but maybe we shouldve stopped evolving at single cells. we'd be better off.

Ive been angry at the world for the past two days and i have the right to be this way. I once believed that positive had to balance out negative but now i know thats complete bullshit. fuck what you know. forget the things youve learned in books. the shit youve been brainwashed with and the ads your face is smothered with. Destroy something beautiful. Its not the first time you heard it.

Its only a matter of time.

now for the beehive: a single, honest, bee. when life revolved around honey from birth, he dropped his pickaxe and ripped off the head of his leader with his bear hands. it was said he ate it too, the rest of the hive instantly swarmed around him. what began as revenge for his bloodline, now seemed to be the action that would end his life. but to his supprize they bowed and welcomed their new leader. he gladly took the throne and told his army to destroy the sun. he sat in his lonely throne and finally got the rest he deserved.

we nailed the remnants of last night to the ceiling thinking we might see a sign.

we were damn wrong.


colonial mustard drilled out his headache with 250 watts of cold hearted mistakes

ms scarlet choose to charge it and drowned herself in solid credit logic

professor plumb sold his shame in the name of science only to find there is no silence

mrs peacock starved her flock in flight from her recent heartthrob

mr green shot off his mouth and gave guns to his sons in spite of the blood

mrs white bleached her off her skin and in every room she bashed em all in.


some like it hot
the rest just like it.

dear god,

please dont let me drown with the rest of these idiots.

so after an eventfull 7 day death march, i think its finally come to a halt.
There's been parasites in my second home
and a very brief nervous breakdown of sorts
There's still so much to do and so little air left
hmm...look to the skies, i'll be there waiting.////

Alright, here we go:

"listen:"

just give me a minute, i promise i'll come back. i always do.(11:03)

(12:20)- the next day and im still not in the mood.

(6:55 pm) - coughing up a storm, cough syrup doesnt do anything but make you trip
not that im sick, well i am but in the head sort of way.
fuck the time, it has nothing to do with me. We dont talk anymore.

ive been drinkin on the job again
despite the hazard sign i am
i sing the night into its wane
in space between my beloved paycheck
and why ive been drinking it away

there. thats all i have in me today.

(this works well too a low hum)

low and low, ive been diggin for the reason we hunt coal
gold on gold, weve been rushin for the season to shine so...so
b-b-b-but
im just not too proud of
the roots ive been hackin up
along with whats left of my lungs

sew me shut, im flushed and closing shop
oh the shame, i just want the feeling to haunt me
so grave

this peninsula pushed me into coma, but that wasnt the right way to start this story.
lets start this over, once more with feeling.
I had this friend that spoke in vowels, his name is very important but cant be pronounced. Ive learned not to cross his path, its just the right thing to avoid. He once lined his head with old newspaper, he said it would keep him busy. He sometimes spoke in riddles and produced old stop action movies in his head. It hurt when he projected his voice onto paper, just like the skreeeeeching halt and slam he would fall asleep to. I stopped trying to understand him a few years back, back when he became more dependent on the healing energy of the sun and addictive syllables. He grew and planted seeds into the Baron land. Those trees would soon walk the earth in search for a direct translation of the inaudible words carved into their armor. Last i heard of him, he split and mailed himself to various islands. He would've said something like, "its just what anyone would do in my situation." I wont remember you and your ways, its just what anyone would say.

that was kind of creepy, i wont do that again.
*soon to be deleted in disgust

love,
nick

youve defeated the purpose of a name for some time
so how do you feel shrouding yourself in anonymity?
avenge your what? you have no name.
no handle to sell yourself short.
no label to sort yourself out.
no name to call as you fall down a large flight of stairs.

are you finished?

no, sir, i have barely scratched the surface.
you...you and your blank face. in your effort to become neutral, but you arent. youre a part of that flock that you abandoned so long ago, no matter how you try to get rid of your tracks. you will have the same blood as the sheep that bleed like the print of the newspaper youve burned for heat your entire life. It never made since...you never make sense, and you never will.

so how was that for you?
did it feel good to get that off your chest?

stop asking questions and just come out with your hands up to the sky.

if only wounds would bleed out gold
who knows how long we'd hold it
to cool my burns in cristal snow
i know i'd stop this maddness
just something to slow my nerves
a calm and gentle verse
i'd pull you out from cold ruble
but you were comfortable
on my honest brittle bones
though shallow sunlit fields
i braved the winter's snowy climbs
to find your hollow air
if time could only tell a tale
im sure he'd be so brief
to tell us all he's given us
the laughter and the grief

Bang.

i just dont have it in me.
ive got roadblock
no idea when ill be back
for now.

shipwrecks dont stop themselves now do they

so to pass the time before another war, ive decided to move onto some personal stomping ground. Ive broken everything that i have ever owned, its inevitable. The future is already in pieces.

I wont keep my hopes held up high, but i cant help it. the smiles are really just keeping me from throwing a brick through every sad story depicted on a stained glass window. Im grinning to keep myself from spitting out the truth as i roll madly around the room. My eyes are spinning right out their sockets, just to keep up with anything chronological, never systematic.

no, this time i want you to mind me, take offense, take the initiative, do whatever.
its all just making me so damn tired.

zzz

croaked crooked smiles all around.
avenge this, avenge this, avenge this, avenge my name
so I can clear the scene
let me borrow your head for a while and crack o p e n.
slow slower slowest down the turntable
dont you dare
dont you stop beliving
cross paths everyday, in the same patch of empty space
like every triggerhappy soldier
ill never feel what true remorse will ever feel like.
Im constantly changing my mind on the sudden actions i fold into my awful mind that ive learned can be more of burden than a way out of any long, dark hallway.
Theres never an easy way out of a blazing building. so why dont you just stamp yourself out?
old air 's gonna get to you - 'tis only a matter of time
dont bother mentioning this to the wife, i feel worse enough for her already.

- dont look directly into those watery eyes, your stone will turn to flesh.
--i promise.

Im dead on
you're dead weight.

there's something wrong, he began,
when youve come to realize that the ground isnt so giving in return to what you feed to it. Because Ive been strewn across this lawn for weeks, busy men and women keep me in their periphery and thats the way they like it. And in my final minutes i remembered everything so clearly. Flashes of doctored memories i stored to keep my head full. Cold, she said, i promise i wont be. Good, i said drifting in orbit. This never worked the way i wanted, and no i never had a plan. My best intentions were always just to go with it. The pair of fallen stars, coupled with the scars they left in the earth were signs that im the only one aware of my surroundings. ha, best intentions, best wishes out in the real life. Knowing us we'll see each other in-limbo.

right,
so we go into the crowd and blend in with 'em. mingle before we mangle.

itsonlyamatteroftime
then when they last expect it,
pick off every last one of 'em.
rip tare, rip tare.

but the sheep caught on,
and we went home hungry
i swore that since we were dressed to kill
we'd expect nothing less.

was it the ears that gave me away?
or was it the teeth,
yeah,
must've been the teeth.
use dem bones like a toothpic
walkin' in the fastfood skin.

on our infinite search for a new home
i guess we all welcome the splinters in our fingers
no matter how numb we are when he stubble up our steps
holding whatever bottle is in our grasp
there's enough for all of us
and im in pain
pain
oh my fingernails scream when i dig for the truth
bearing past memories
or an old friend i buried for safe keeping
you know
didnt want to hurt him
theres just enough to hold us up for the night
just enough for us to get down

you know, i'll stop when you stop
just say when
but muted youve got nothing else to say but:
"hit me"
just save me from the flames. please.

in volumes
i guess we all become our own heroes
defending ourselves from the truth
in line for just one taste
but you know you'll be back for more.

yeah, ill return but i wont be the same
because god only knows when i'll be back
in this awkward state
just dont think about me when im gone
because i cant return the favor.

im sorry in advance.
im sorry.
i am.

after all these years of walking with my head hung low
i've yet to notice that the words i've been looking for
were on the ground all along.

"all we think we are today is all we say we'll be tomorrow"

it was the light that bothered my eyes
when i awoke and decided to burn this house of cards
to
the
ground
but I took one last look at the future ruble
and I asked myself questions
I packed my bag
though i had trouble doing that
what a way to start the day
ablaze
I'll never turn back
I'm not feeling the heat
I won't ever bear this

baron

land

ever

again.

this is the way i deal my cards
place them face down
and walk away.

I am tired.

But how can i rest on a stomach full of worries? I mean, its the doubt thats gonna get me. I cant see anything, even standing on the tips of my toes. Everything is a blur. Everything is nothing is an understood way. What could make me feel any better with my feathers all furrowed? The slopes always too steep for casual talk, so I have to scream to get my point out to someone. But, honestly, I need to stop doing that...you know...drifting. I'm always stuck wondering why nothing works the way its supposed to. Myself included. I guess i've gotten used to the let down. Its like clockwork, and time ruins everything. im not happy about that, im not happy about anything right now.

*fuck this flock.
for now,
this was just a quick fix.

"believe me..."
it said,
"you could be in a worse off place."

off-white,
your teeth will never be as blank as the canvas that you started off on
but you still try to peel back the layers upon layers
spent on coffee and cigarettes
and it shows
kid, you'll never be a piece of work
youre a mess
and it shows.

proof of purchase please:

well, madam, you look especially sexy in your prosthetic
so im sure you could pull some tendons to get me into this butchery
tonight
were gonna dance
throw our mouths out windows
watch em kiss the pavement

and we sway, in the heat, through the garbage
we swim, in the sludge, though the reservoir
so i drown, down my sorrows, with a bottle armor.

fields are are are are burning
and and the scary thing is i dont hear anything
the crows are taking in the fumes
of wasted fertility and their past lives
now they kick over the oil drums
and the fields are gaping
and theres a crowd circling the scene
theres men in suits trying to brake through
to catch up with the time that they wasted
on burrowing into the ground
now they just squeeeeel, burn, repeat.

the smiles will crack from the mezzanine
as the orchestra fills with kerosene
oh what a sight to see
those endless sea of teeth
i think i'll never grin another grin.

you ever gonna get off that rock? no stones
did i even have to ask that question? no questionable matters
strike that. no matches
grow. no growth
she said. no spoken words
have fun on being alone. no individualism
and i will i said in huff. no temper driven words
ill go on my own. no self indulgence
spend my time elsewhere. no optimistic eyes
give my words to a worthy ear. no optimistic ears
but this time with more character. no jazz.

yeah thats right. no youre wrong

and maybe i'll never see the big picture. no frames
forced to look through a port hold. no ship
or a periscope. no sub

oh what a mess
i have made

I'll start off with a question:
"how am i not me?"

i am not solid
i am made of many layers upon layers
broken down into cells.
the easiest way to understand something is to brake it down
and rebuild it,
but after youve dissmantled it,
you find beauty in being incomplete
this is why nothing gets done around here.

all i asked for was the time and i got a headache
your numbers bother me
and of course i choose a lifestyle smothered in numbers
what a series of bad choices
that have yet to happen.

i will never get to answer my question because i do not know myself.
that is the hard part about that question. you cant know whats you arent if you dont know that you exist at all.

i sware

i saw myself tear that fucking jaw off that fucking hinge
shaking
composed of imballanced molecules
glands pumping adreniline
motor cells
every coal mine collapsed then and there
no breaks or laughs
no snaps and giggles
only primal indulgance
a machine can only take so much
before it snaps
a robot
will go blood lusty one day
it doesnt need the blood

but without a jaw, she would be a hell of a lot better off, for all of us

i hate all people in general for now on
no more chances
and you can blame that cancer of a life
whoever you may be
for one day i do hope someone finishes your horrible ways
though i have a little self control

now everything that hurt before is back in order, the adrenaline's gone and every nerve is back in place
they tell each other stories, all exagerated, all jumpy, forming images in my brain

take no pitty in that trash of carbon
no one hears your bitches and moans without a mandible
good im glad
fucking mute you
and give you something real to cry about.

here hear
a collective groan from the audience
a collective sigh of relief
this ones for the collectible kind

shift your weight to the left
slow your breathing
now dont you move a muscle
dont you forget this sight
dont you forget this fire
and the smell
or the shrapnel
nor the screams

repeatafterme:

shit happens

i am not a man of my word so do not take them with you, do not urge them on your neighbor, do not fold them, tear them, breath them.

its unbearable
its tadiefor
its thenewin
its primal so so so primal

i want to make sure i dont forget anyone
i wont leave a man behind
we all go down
one way or another

so

have you no pitty man?
slow down.

anonymous:

dont you worry, I'll make this work out for the both of us.