In Love With Love and Lousy Poetry
Machinations Vs. The Hand Of God (The Title Bout)
And just like that
they start moving
like slow motion chess pieces on fast forward.
Erratic, sporadic,
and yet
systematic.
Chaos is their battle plan,
a sort of telepathic machinery to execute it.
A brutal dance, as they twist
and whirl
and kick
and burn.
The sky is frozen solid,
but their hearts don't seem to mind.
Like breath from christmas lungs,
they linger in the night,
cohesively scattering as they chase down a dream
that never stops to suck in mouthfuls of frost.
Marrow-minded pistons pump underneath their blurring skin
beating fast like lovers' hearts
as I realize that I cannot keep watching
I cannot keep their pace
they've just hit infinity
and I am left behind.
We Are The Words You Love To Say, We Are The Hands You Love to Shake
I'm much better with sentiments
when they're displayed like badges
(or wounds)
in this notebook that i keep with me like a whisper.
My soul is better suited for
bruising its notions across a piece of paper
than for being broken into tiny pieces
and rolled into syllables on my tongue,
like the way I play with my gum.
I've got this voice that's just too big for me
and it leaves a sour after taste every time i use it,
as if i stained my throat with a mix of cocaine and cough syrup.
My tongue is a weapon, constantly loaded
and pointed straight at my face.
It fires off round after round almost every single day.
Countless scars in the shape of regret
mar my face with stories attached that i hate to reopen.
But here, with this pen in my hand,
i can find a way to turn that gun away from me
and shoot it straight into the sky
like a Northstar song.
And when i look up,
i can see fire flies and shooting stars
tracing arcs in the sky,
not grotesque pieces of lead piercing that silvery hull
floating in the vast midnight sea.
So, yeah, it's been a while since i posted some poetry
i know no one actually reads it
but, i like to pretend someone does
so, here it is
[just a quick note - In "The Words You Love to Say", the reference to cocaine is a reference to the energy drink, which leaves a notoriously strong burning sensation in your throat after you down some; it is not a reference to the drug]
In other news, while i was at the park yesterday, i saw a shooting star. It was really pretty and it made my day.
And just like that
they start moving
like slow motion chess pieces on fast forward.
Erratic, sporadic,
and yet
systematic.
Chaos is their battle plan,
a sort of telepathic machinery to execute it.
A brutal dance, as they twist
and whirl
and kick
and burn.
The sky is frozen solid,
but their hearts don't seem to mind.
Like breath from christmas lungs,
they linger in the night,
cohesively scattering as they chase down a dream
that never stops to suck in mouthfuls of frost.
Marrow-minded pistons pump underneath their blurring skin
beating fast like lovers' hearts
as I realize that I cannot keep watching
I cannot keep their pace
they've just hit infinity
and I am left behind.
We Are The Words You Love To Say, We Are The Hands You Love to Shake
I'm much better with sentiments
when they're displayed like badges
(or wounds)
in this notebook that i keep with me like a whisper.
My soul is better suited for
bruising its notions across a piece of paper
than for being broken into tiny pieces
and rolled into syllables on my tongue,
like the way I play with my gum.
I've got this voice that's just too big for me
and it leaves a sour after taste every time i use it,
as if i stained my throat with a mix of cocaine and cough syrup.
My tongue is a weapon, constantly loaded
and pointed straight at my face.
It fires off round after round almost every single day.
Countless scars in the shape of regret
mar my face with stories attached that i hate to reopen.
But here, with this pen in my hand,
i can find a way to turn that gun away from me
and shoot it straight into the sky
like a Northstar song.
And when i look up,
i can see fire flies and shooting stars
tracing arcs in the sky,
not grotesque pieces of lead piercing that silvery hull
floating in the vast midnight sea.
So, yeah, it's been a while since i posted some poetry
i know no one actually reads it
but, i like to pretend someone does
so, here it is
[just a quick note - In "The Words You Love to Say", the reference to cocaine is a reference to the energy drink, which leaves a notoriously strong burning sensation in your throat after you down some; it is not a reference to the drug]
In other news, while i was at the park yesterday, i saw a shooting star. It was really pretty and it made my day.