trevor's emo poetry...(i hate being emo...I prefer "sensitive"..and yet I like chick flick's...why?)
Satin night, sleep tight,
under the moon as we listen to Crosby croon,
Mellow mellody, a cliche cause,
Looking for the land of Oz.
In Emerald City, we'll find the wizard
Finally inside, safe from the blizzard.
But I love the snow, it makes my face glow,
And I love how you look, curled up by the fire with a book.
Unknown drone, breaks the sounds of December,
the sound of the snow and the crackle of the fire's embers.
A haunting hum grows in my imagination,
The illusion of you fades and I am left with isolation.
I'm just spewing out jibberish, nonsensical phrases during insomniac phases,
A profound truth, I wish, but I am filled with emptiness and labyrinth mazes.
There is no minotaur waiting for me,
nor a princess to save or to see.
There is only a quest for a thing I don't know,
Only a quest for something that lies below,
The surface, a strange point of referrence,
Attached though we are, we may put up resistance.
Searching for a connection is my obsession,
Believing there is none has caused my depression.
Ridiculous words attempting to describe what cannot be heard,
Approximating an explanation impossible to understand,
the meaning of a comet to a bird, the meaning of life to man,
The quest continues and we look for a master plan.
I believe in the mystery, but not for me,
Always need an explanation you see,
but some things simply exist.
Only now can we see the twist.
It is comforting to know that existence includes a zero or an infinity,
Perhaps even both, a beginning, growth and an end created by a deity,
But I desire more than merely existence in this imperfect miracle,
Fixing the world has become my mission, filling the cup until it is full.
And yet I cannot escape, the gaping hole in my heart,
While I am lost in my home, with my mediocre art,
The isolation in my mind, which might be for all time,
The mountain on which I am trapped, the mountain I must climb.
...rough draft...came up with it off the top of my head, tired, now going to bed.
Good night.
p.s. the chick flick thing refers to "P.S. I Love You", this movie with Hilary Swank and Gerard Butler and some other people...and other movies. yeah, I saw some of it...and I liked it. So...
I also saw some of "Death Sentence" ...less happy, more bloody and all about this white-collar dad trying to avenge his son's death, by killing a bunch of gang-type fools... It was decent, but I'm willing to bet that the new Clint Eastwood movie will kicks its ass.
Anyway...
also...while i'm adding crap. ...it is not easy to understand the balance between being sensitive and "manly". It is also not easy to balance being reserved with being outgoing. ...I have layers...and show different elements to different people. Does this make sense? I'm kinda going on and on, but it makes sense, right? ...
My friend Brian told me that I'm the most passive person he's ever met. umm...okay. I'm not all passive. I think I am too passive though, and not realistic enough. The optimism and idealism thing is nice, but extremely hard to maintain, which leaves me with the extremes of naivity and cynicism.
Good night people.
under the moon as we listen to Crosby croon,
Mellow mellody, a cliche cause,
Looking for the land of Oz.
In Emerald City, we'll find the wizard
Finally inside, safe from the blizzard.
But I love the snow, it makes my face glow,
And I love how you look, curled up by the fire with a book.
Unknown drone, breaks the sounds of December,
the sound of the snow and the crackle of the fire's embers.
A haunting hum grows in my imagination,
The illusion of you fades and I am left with isolation.
I'm just spewing out jibberish, nonsensical phrases during insomniac phases,
A profound truth, I wish, but I am filled with emptiness and labyrinth mazes.
There is no minotaur waiting for me,
nor a princess to save or to see.
There is only a quest for a thing I don't know,
Only a quest for something that lies below,
The surface, a strange point of referrence,
Attached though we are, we may put up resistance.
Searching for a connection is my obsession,
Believing there is none has caused my depression.
Ridiculous words attempting to describe what cannot be heard,
Approximating an explanation impossible to understand,
the meaning of a comet to a bird, the meaning of life to man,
The quest continues and we look for a master plan.
I believe in the mystery, but not for me,
Always need an explanation you see,
but some things simply exist.
Only now can we see the twist.
It is comforting to know that existence includes a zero or an infinity,
Perhaps even both, a beginning, growth and an end created by a deity,
But I desire more than merely existence in this imperfect miracle,
Fixing the world has become my mission, filling the cup until it is full.
And yet I cannot escape, the gaping hole in my heart,
While I am lost in my home, with my mediocre art,
The isolation in my mind, which might be for all time,
The mountain on which I am trapped, the mountain I must climb.
...rough draft...came up with it off the top of my head, tired, now going to bed.
Good night.
p.s. the chick flick thing refers to "P.S. I Love You", this movie with Hilary Swank and Gerard Butler and some other people...and other movies. yeah, I saw some of it...and I liked it. So...
I also saw some of "Death Sentence" ...less happy, more bloody and all about this white-collar dad trying to avenge his son's death, by killing a bunch of gang-type fools... It was decent, but I'm willing to bet that the new Clint Eastwood movie will kicks its ass.
Anyway...
also...while i'm adding crap. ...it is not easy to understand the balance between being sensitive and "manly". It is also not easy to balance being reserved with being outgoing. ...I have layers...and show different elements to different people. Does this make sense? I'm kinda going on and on, but it makes sense, right? ...
My friend Brian told me that I'm the most passive person he's ever met. umm...okay. I'm not all passive. I think I am too passive though, and not realistic enough. The optimism and idealism thing is nice, but extremely hard to maintain, which leaves me with the extremes of naivity and cynicism.
Good night people.