Life is still
just a canvas
empty as it goes
a white washed
wall of neutral
meaning
waiting to be filled
or tagged or marked
and mashed
your hands,
mind,
heart,
anger,
thought becomes the image
broken into ink
waiting is the world
to be made beautiful
with whatever meaning
you believe it needs
Eyes, making acquisition
with glances stealing
through simple transaction
this is the distraction
and chemical creation
taking little bits of me
bit after be she builds
something of an image
a construct of data
undefined no matter the picture
no photo can hold
the wealth within
the simple nature of
who I am beneath the
unequal angles my face
smiling…
Clean,
Something that we may never become
that’s ok because we are young
headstrong, for as long as that string of letters hold meaning
I believe that this life has begun unraveling
no really bid deal, I never believed
we had much in the way of symmetry
more like a bunch of atoms reacting to force
we are this big thing moving along some seamless coerce
a simple set of codes bound by laws,
pent up I a cage of cells, and price tags
I have lagged about this world
glitching my thoughts through concepts
that I may never understand, stained
unclean with the understanding that
what I do and what I believed
is entirely up to the many miles
I have already put behind me
I am the course of actions
that I set into motion when I got in my first fight
and when I stole my first kiss
nothing is more true and nothing resonates
in this silly little boys consciousness
more than the score of a few crazy artist
on a stage of white metal, amplified through power lines
leading to my mind, this is thought translated through a cypher
so eyes trained by lips tuned with ears
can understand the nonsensical
ramblings of a silent poet, typing out an apology
for not talking, vacation from thinking, clean I am
ready to ink my hands and stand with a new set of
themes to stream into this tumbled understanding
of poetry,
Humanity is the machine
The entire body
An interface
The brain one great cpu
All action
Simple forms of impute
love
Defined the purpose
The only program
Given power bringing
This engine to life…
Carry me beyond this place
A favor please good cab driver
With ethanol in mind
I need to take a drive
Put wealth in miles before these eyes
Heavy is the night
Mr. Driver
Please be my guide
Send this yellow buss
Like arrows souring through the dark
Let never my heart
Be parked in this wasted place
I need a fresh faces to
Spill my heart in joyous graces
I’ve lived in this dream for far too long
Driver please take me away
From this place
These memories…
Lonely heart
Let me linger here
Awhile
Let me sit and rest
For a time
While I cherish
Your smile
Like an amber sunrise
Spilling from your eyes
Shaped through the sun
I am so dearly warmed
Within the your sight
Miles from those old train tracks
In a little house on the shore,
Listening to the water, thinking how
The wind taste just like the ocean
But miles from those waters, here
The air is something like a memory
Lingering in my lunges…
Do we forget ourselves at sunset?
Exhaling obligation and ambition from our chest
To chase addiction and attraction
Through the dark alleys and lit hallways
Of overcrowded nights
seeking chemical joy
and star light expanses in misty eyed
angels with wide smiles
and big hearts….
will you help me think of something to write about?
