post conceptual romance

why can't we each just be opening up
oh my god
a little bit of good old honest did you say
but what
the furnace is burning every thing that I love
did you want
the cage is demanding at least I'm standing here
with the door shut
your feeding me beating me heating me up
now thats just
i said what I say and take it away
god damn mouth
just won't shut, won't shut it up
my fingers escape when it's getting late
I'm too drunk
it comes out wrong it comes out lost
oh my god I've lost you for once
on the couch in the place a party one more
and it's true
swept up and away everyone must pay
for the choices we make
around and around where everyone found
something sweet
they walked on for hours and days and for years
while others just wiped off the tears
so much expectation on my behalf I give up
i'm just not enough
farther and farther the spaces between
the gold pumped out through my human machines
glorify everything wrong everything they say I should not
used and abused now all that I know is the same
torn and contorted I get no joy from plain
sure now I'm sober I'll just tell you again
but the tongue that I use so potently
just seems to freeze
and it's time to leave
so see you around, in the air or in your car
I'll be beaten and varnished so it might be wise
to unpack your tools
and stay just a little while


bleach burns and the alkalie

somehow I've lost all my style
Just want to make you smile
what's wrong, nothings wrong
except it all
wind up key in my back
said it at and I take it back
your so cool
I'm so hip
I'm so sick of this feeling sick, stuck
all over the world I see smiles
all over the street I see cries
I want to wash them up
with the dirty newspaper
I want to walk, a long one
a lonely time
I want to put on a suit, with the flanel colors you like
with the shredded up tie
letters like big green balloons in my mind
give way to shapes that I cannot define
possibly a face, but more likely an apple
I see the sunset
and I think of it
and I think fo the pictures
the buildings cascading up or down
my feelings cascading all around
the spirals on a fancy pillow
or the lace on the hem of her dress
the way the white cuts to tan then to black
I heart this I heart that I heart us i heart
i heart beat in chest, hold my bones, heart caress
black shades, not really shades just the black
with white crisp lines then shadowing
cool air, cool water
lost love, unborn daughter
fool, my am, me I
bandage your head now little one
brandish your weapon dear sir
play that beat again backwards
forwards and around
tunnel, spin, in the web
of neon blues and greens
falling, fallen, fullen, sullen, sulking
a ball and a minute
lock the door, turn around
spin the coin, spin some more
dolly daze gagged and played on the machine
in the machine swelling and twisting
isn't she clean
father mother what is a
me you her him it what are we?
field dream, crochet, fade away
puff, billow, glow, grown coarse
fish, pond, jump, lilly
skip, fly away to another city
where the carnival doesn't leave
where the birds always sing
signed sold, delivered, cod
in the ocean the plastic stretches
and breathes
the hum we emit, the sounds where no one can here or see
where isn't a place it's a time, or it's a moment, or its..
a positive negative feeling
everything, vibrating, creating, something from nothing
somethings from zero, zero to me
build those blocks nature
build that lego castle version of everything
face, a face is worth a thousand hellos
a thousand wrists held
a thousand beautiful dinners
and even more drugs
pause and rewind
read the black lines
that build on this empty space
that i fill and refill
can you have enough, can you see through this
like you see through your storm windows
forget about your house of cards
fall into this fold those drop away
so sad, sappy, vicious, vulgar
impaled on rocks in the sun


I haven't taken St Johns Wort in a few days and feel a little unsettled. I feel a little tired, a little lost, and a little scared. Too many things are stirring up my already muddled mind. Old friends bring back old memories, memories of old friends.
Many people refer to life as a long road. When I think of it that way I see some parts as the long amazing scenery I grew tired of and fond of at the same time, other parts are pothole riddled, others are country back roads where I got lost, but too often they were loops I spiraled around in thinking I was getting somewhere, but was only running out of gas. Right now I feel like I'm on an extremely long on-ramp. The dashboard is littered with postcards of all the places I have been. My car is getting older and not running quite as well as it has. The air freshener has run out, and I no longer control the air conditioning. Sometimes it rains and the wipers don't work. Sometimes I have to get out and hitchhike, but no one wants to pick me up. Sometimes I curl up in the back with my stories, and my emergency blanket, eating gas station candy til I fall asleep. There is one photograph of a snowy hill overlooking the city that is worn terribly on the edges. It is dark out and the shadows of the leafless trees are cast by street lamps. You can see two figures inside shivering, hiding from the cold. Other than them, society does not exist.
I have been separated and divorced for over a year. It was a mistake and I've been thinking about how big a mistake it was lately. I want to take it back, but it's impossible. I went to my cousins wedding last month and it hurt seeing how really beautiful a wedding should be. I feel like my tainted version of marriage and relationships has destroyed my ability to find love, or to look at love the same way I did before.
There are worse things than being alone, like being with someone who you do not love, but being alone is still in the top five. I want a drink, but I have to work early. I should be sleeping now instead of writing this. My eyes are drooping and the Cubs are winning. I wish it would rain some more.


waking up to being someone

The demons of Clark street came in a fury. The tides that pull the forces of the planets around must have been disrupted, or the power of the spirit flows in giant powerful beams, and one hit us. Maybe they came from the earth, because you could feel it in the ground. There was a bitterness in the air and everyone tasted metal when they swallowed. Some things people will never believe, until it happens to them.
Raoul Sanchez was a mechanic on Clark street. He was born and raised there, had a house and five children. Raoul would not call himself a holy man. He might say he was superstitious. His mind thought analytically, which intrinsically made him apt to disbelieve in the supernatural. Until his family was attacked by demons.
They fled into the street for the festival and were ready to party. People were drinking, and eating the best of the areas cuisine. Raoul was getting Italian ice for his sons when the demon made it's move. Raoul's stare was caught right behind a woman in a bath robe and slippers. The space behind her was distorted, as a glass figure slid into her body. Raoul felt a shiver and dropped one of the cups of ice. He looked down at it then up to the woman quickly to catch her staring straight at him. Her eyes were the color of lions in the sun. Her mouth drew down to a scowl, she was showing teeth and stretching her shaking hands out. Raoul turned and started walking towards his children. He could feel her staring at him and started walking faster.
His wife and children were not where he had left them. He looked around the crowd shading his eyes with a cup of the ice, the white spoon contrasting the sky, sun glistening through shards of strains of hydrogen molecules. He caught her out of a corner of his eye and saw she was quickly on his trail. He didn't feel good. He was starting to sweat and his adrenaline pump, he didn't want to stir himself up over nothing, but that shit was weird. Raoul thought he saw one of his children up ahead but a crowd of blocked his view. He yelled Victor's name, which was his youngest son. He heard a noise behind him of people shuffling and some guy saying "watch where your going, jesus!" Raoul's hands went numb, and he was seeing specks of light all around, he thought it was a hell of a time to have heat stroke. His head was pounding and drowning out the growing noises of warning behind him. He dropped the ice on his head and looked to the sky with fluttering eyes. He couldn't help but drop to his knees. Kneeling there he felt like he might die immediately when his hat started to glow. He felt like water that has suddenly been calmed. He rose to his feet.
The screams crept in and he turned to see the woman that was following him, who had hit a growth spurt within the last three minutes, knocking a group of people down by smacking them in the face with her elbow, which was now the size of a regulation softball. People were dashing out of the way of the woman who had grown to the size of a football player on steroids and growth hormone. Her robe was tight raising her arms up and she could no longer keep it closed. The exposed undergarments where ripping apart from rapid growth. She started running toward Raoul.
He felt the energy coming at him like pebbles from a shotgun. She leaped into the air coming down on Raoul, and slamming him to the ground putting pressure on his chest. There was no sound. Everything was still. Everything was dark. Raoul had no breath left and his chest hurt badly. He could not imagine taking another breath. The woman pushed down on him while screaming deep rough tones. Six people around them dropped to the ground, unconscious. Cutting through the blazing hot road, Raoul felt himself sinking into cool earth. Energy pulsated through his body, and he sucked in the best gulp of oxygen he had ever had. Two men tried to grab the woman, she twisted one of the men's arm until bone was sliding up against the underlayer of his flesh. The other man pulled him away screaming.
Raoul shifted his weight and grabbed the girls hand. It was hot, but he kept his grip. She turned and made a slash for his throat, missing and hitting his shoulder, where blood started to soak into the fabric of his shirt. The band came on. Raoul had gotten an advantage of putting her off balance and startling her and he pushed her toward the ground. He held her arms out, miraculously overpowering her. He looked into the burning and flickering of her eyes. She didn't look human.
He felt a tingly tickly feeling coming up from his groin to his throat, his tounge felt like he licked a battery. The woman started shaking and Raoul could tell she was losing power. He started making a noise deep in his diagphram. The sound of a thousand doors opening came out of his throat and the woman went lifeless. The ground around her distorted and faded away.
Raoul got off of her and the people crowded around started praying and looking at Raoul as if he had just conquored a dragon. He looked at them standing there waiting for something, some kind of peace. They all felt they had experienced something unique, and Raoul could tell. He waited and searched his mind hoping something would come up, but all he could hear was the music playing. To the people he said nothing. He turned toward the sound and walked. The people started talking, and the woman shrunk in size. The paramedics came and took her away, the security officers handcuffed her to the railing as they took her away. The people stayed and felt amazed by the evening. Raoul danced like a hero, and rejoiced in survival, he loved being there with his family.
The people in the crowd went home that night in awe. They pullout out thier phones, cameras, and handheld video cameras in hopes they had cought the whole thing. As they checked through the tape it got distorted and the immage blurred beyond recognition. Some of the distortion lasted for entire videos. Pictures were unrecognizable. The people there never forgot what had transpired, and regarded Raoul as a conquerer of evil. Some things people will never believe, until it happens to them.


The cars burn up into little twisted bits. The smoke rides into the sky on whisps of cool and hot air. The ash flutters around like gray snowflakes. These fractions of the universe are impossible to explain. Blood for blood, an eye for an eye. The people in my back alley still smoke drink and yell about even more trivial things.
When my mind craves greater things than I can achieve. When it's overloaded with large and small things. When I find myself praying again. I know it's time to leave. No one is meant to put up with what we do in society today. These minds and bodies developed through smaller changes, and greater purposes. People are strange and seemingly always bickering. Crying, screaming, or dreaming.
I sulk and I sink into the couch where some with easier conscience than me can drown themselves in the light of the t.v. Its hard to pay attention when your eyes don't want to see anything. Stimulation is key.
Left yo right yo left yo left your right your left right left yo left yo right now pick up the step your left yo right yo leyieeft

long live the king

Beauty is what resides outside of what we know and comprehend.
Comfort is dwelling in what we do.

I walk the streets inspecting cracks, expecting just that. Imprints of feet, shoes, neon nails slide through the view and out behind. I look up and my mind focuses only on legs, butts, and breasts. I sigh a breath. I know it's ingrained and aggravating. I see fashion and pride, beautiful bodies, beautiful eyes. A million stretch out and past. Walking Venuses, so lovely to look at, to beautiful to possess, to caress. Who would want to caress emptiness?
It's tough being out of touch, out of time, out of control, out of your mind. It's awkward starting things up, when it feels like nothing is ever finished. It's hard to judge a shirt as a soul, a haircut to a person as a whole.
Your shoes make you tall, but quicker to fall. Though we all take chances, the problems just evolve. It's hard to win when the house has all the cards. It's hard to lose, when you best loss is your sacred win. Fall out until the end, riding the wind. Til we part and say goodbye dear day.


lackluster and slack through the being

The only war left is with ourselves.
The only war left is with ourselves.
the ONLY war left is with ourselves.
The only war left is in our heads .
The only war left is in our heads .
THE ONLY war left is in our heads .
the only war left is in our souls .
these only,war's left, in our mind .
these only, wars left in our mind .
the only wars left are in our mind .
the only war left is inside our heart.
the only,war left, in our heart.
the only war left is in our heart.
only war left in our heart.
the only war
the only war left is life.
the only war left, life.
the life.
These only wars left are shadows.
the only war left is a shadow .
l war a
these only,war'sleft are shadows.
the war left shadows.

bang damn gun rocket out motherfucker god
concrete disciple, wasting anything that comes to mind
chant words and whispers hoping just to stay alive
cool damp the inside of a tomb
and the race is on the wisdom tooth pulled
lost reasoning, resonating
paper pages plastered on thick
to this mud waste we call brick
frame it all up and paint it all blue
because god is an angel and he fucking loves you
trees can't be seen here anymore
this place is the place where we die for
from somewhere else invading
this is why I try just debating
nothing is real nothing is true
the more that you own the easier it is to do
forgive and forget but always pay a debt
and when the morning bell comes if your still around
I want you to man up and follow me down
to the river where we all trudged in the mud
we will fill our canteens and dig your body up
we'll put coins in our eyes and lay them back down
follow the reaper to that howling sound
the jackals the devils in their disguise
when death comes a knocking I won't be surprised
talking tall tales into dark caverns and wishing wells
waiting debating what fails to put air in the sails
what fails to hold me to the rails
supposing, supposing anger and rage as we change the page
and everything is exactly the same
the water run dry, the goats will all die, the life will erode
and no one will ever fucking know
you've got shit on your face and inside your boots
you've got pocketwatches for proof
you've got shade and summer and rain
you've got christmas and snowfall and pain
you've got ripped up packages letters and raaaaaage

and I'm on the table pendulum coming down
razor sharp and slicing me down
breaking me out
pulling me out
and too many lines in the flesh
too much energy to be depressed
too much life for this to be the best
and the shadow comes in
inside the house at the end of the bed
without moment to breathe moment to rest
we crossed our fingers and crossed our chest
unfortunately that's all we had left

denemyne: that devil inside
the wasted souls bride
the one I'm so quick to hide, behind
howling in the sandcastles of the mind
buy the ticket take the ride, pick a side
fight or right or right or fight, alright
I've got me in my sights

afterthoughts on a disaster

He could have been anything.
She dreamt it all away.
The atoms could have just broken away.

When she kissed him she only thought of bad meat. His fake demeanor let loose like tied shoes at the end of the night. Left with breathing heavy over nothing. Left with stains on the mattress to clean. Left with stained black eyes to draw up again.
Her heels made her taller, her stylist made her more appealing. She walked with the sway in a thousand men's dreams. Dropped like glass, unfulfilled, and ready to bleed, fluttering eyelashes smash into eachother at the softest high speed.
Her arms hang on the street or on the train. She smelled of the most fragrant places, and you couldn't find one like her in any others faces. She raised a chin and eyes clung to the ceiling.
They went to the beach, they drank lavishly. His finely trimmed beard tickled her chin. Their skin would slide across the others like smooth packaging. He held her like a trophy. Walking side by side they held hands and spoke of nothing. In his head she was a stepping stone, in her head he was a possibility. Shattered dreams and misunderstandings.
She flipped through the magazines lazily on a Sunday waiting. He was busy the night before and now three hours late. A smile of annoyance creased her face for she was still in the mood for a burst of heat and forgiving. Her toe tapped to the beat of the second hand, now changing channels on the t.v. She stretched out and ran a lonely hand across freshly shaven legs. He called when she was into a bottle of wine and feeling bitterly. She gave him a hassle then asked if they could see eachother. He was once again busy. A story where there is something to do very important and immediate, something she would never check or argue to disbelieve. The red end button was pressed and the phone down and away. Disgust, like smelling rotten meat. Like feeling incomplete, obsolite, drinking to wash down the glimmers of deciet.
She checks her facebook scanning his page by page. Who were these people and what do they mean. Never met, never known, never seen. This virtual life is my life, it's your life, it's all the people in between, down and out, around, and never supposed to be. Dates and times, line by luminescent line traced by advertisement targeting your hairs illustrious shine. Put out the candles and go to bed.
Not answering. Pacing, working, wondering. Forgetting.
She sees the light shine through the glass doors. It's a sunset escaping the city. A child jumps and fumbles holding dearly to a hand and it's gone. The cars rush by and she stands next to the street alive, awake, and dreaming. Something her girlfriends all know but don't know how to say. Something when the sun goes out and you feel this way. Wandering eyes hold promise, but those promises are so empty.
He doesn't think. He doesn't care. He sees her as he rides by in a cab and hopes she didn't see. Gone. Heartbreak 1,2,3
Roses, planted from seed, sit on the countertop. Drooping out of the same cheaply bought vase. A note that reads, "Sorry, I was afraid...I love you", is scattered in torn up pieces throughout the apartment. She is there with glassy eyes and huddled up frame. Holding the phone highlighting his name. Going from delete to send message back and forth again.
He doesn't care, he can always wait. He can move on and just say it was fate. In this moment we all fade away.
I loved her. Now I love her pain. I love the dark feeling of regret and isolation that put her in my shoes. I love that feeling sinking in, that even if.............things will never be the same.


acid rainclowd

short on rent
I'm short on life
I'm the short end of the stick
ground meat inside of weak skin
I don't beg
I don't plead
I'm sick of being sick constantly
I can see
I can read the veins on your hand
I know where they lead
from fingertips to arteries
my favorite pastime is imagining
imagining that this is just a stupid dream
that everything isn't how it really seems
when someone spends a years worth of my salary
on one night in a restaurant drinking and eating
my other pastimes included bitching
being mean
and destroying
everything beautiful around me
I stare, stale, and soberly
after raging up a storm that only hurt me
that only burnt and buried me

old mr bones ridin' on his ship
the mast came down and spun him round
and over the side he slipped

you can't have love, you can't enjoy sex
your flesh is heavy you want to shed it
you can't wait, you can't speed it up
what you've lost doesn't matter
but what you stand to does

and they will cry
I will fall into the vat
the pieces will rise to the top
and you will stand away with misled eyes
you will wash away the part of you that hurts
when you see the part of me you love die
and the church bells ringing don't bring me
closer to god

two by stupid two
until you add one
then all the fun is done
then you better become someone
then it is dark if you don't succeed
it's dark anyway

we pass the time and get the dark things off our mind. we drink like heroes in the dark on the porch in our little rooms we cant' really afford. We blame the world, we love the world, that's why it's so hard
it's hard to forgive and forget that which me never ever really et that which we had not challenged that which haunts us for no reason
and the church bells ringing don't push me away fro a bad place, they don't do much at all. But the shadows cast outside through the vines and trees pull me apart and touch this fear that I still have after dying in my own mind in my own right n the wrong place in the wrong time line after vicious fucking line and I sigh
gateway disappears
it's just me just here just the hollow shackles of fear
just the bitter breath of fighting and beer
just the smell of rotten paint that we throw over everything we don't want to hear
black square after black square with no space to spare
with no hands or legs to repair
no bottomless pit to fill
no way to feel
no way to feel
no way to feel
that is
this is
this is enough, a stopping point.,...l,..k,,....k,,,,....
love is
love is searching through cabinets for whatever pills to take because our brain says medicine takes pain away,
love is
love is
love is not fucking when you just as well can
love is
love is
what is
this is
feeble attempt
this is
dazing away
this is
finishing nothing that you started with even less
this is
death on a hill
this is
this is
holding your breath

gamble bamble bamble
follow the gold brick road
follow the president
follow the corporations
follow the sidewalk or the road
to the next little place you think you know
follow the creases and cracks the rocks that slip past
the trees and the weeds that grow back
follow me into a darker future history

leg drop soup
with chow pain noodles
drinking red headed ex wives
sharpening the kitchen knives
wearing the lovers disguise
breaking down insides
framing your imperfect mind
doing with out really trying
this is the time when you decide
when you collide
when you realize
there are worse things
than dying