Rotten 3/3/2011

there's a tide turning inside of me. I've gathered myself a storm.
The boy died in me yesterday and today a man was born.
To me you are a poem. I read you everyday.
Sometimes it's sweet and soft like rain
dancing on my face
some days it's me
cold and dark
and I know you feel me suffer.
But for you I'm strong, and always wrong, and in this I am tougher
We are mountains
We are trees
We are illuminated when we breathe into each other
I got high yesterday
and I hit the bottom
cut my hair cause I felt rotten.
like an apple...
drifting away.
but I see your face and time is erased.
you are my shooting star.
Don't say anything.
Because all I do is listen
you're eclipsing smile
enchanting words
in the midnight sky glisten
forever.
forever.
forever.

Sometime Soon (date lost)

One week since I told you I did it. Some words passed over text messages, even saw you once since. Feeling separate, we finally collide up at grizzly peak where there is no where to hide. We kiss in your car to the rhythms of dinosaurs stomping around, we danced with our hands in a quiet duet - our only successful dance, we stopped at the idea of how it looked, and that is us: How we look, and not who we are. I look past how it looks, and I see how it feels. You feel what I see and pass it back to me. Then a long drive back to your house, listening to a band that you turned me on to, that you don't like anymore, but I continue to. I appreciate the change in the scene, while the actors remain the same. You need a new cast, and you search for this cast. I talk a lot of shit and shut right up when I see your face. I let you take control, to let you think you have control, and I keep my quiet strength. I will let some light in one of these days. I will let it shine through. Sometime soon.

Harangue 9/13/2011

"All talk

don't go to shows

or to bars

so why should I hit you up?"

After a long pause

I told her that

I had an amazing personality

So she laughed

through her nerd glasses

pronouncing

sexy and smart

through dark

thick frames

I'm sure they aren't prescription

So I go home

smoke a bowl

open up Pandora

Play Bonobo radio

I become downtempo

I become paints'

apprentice.

She's watching me

waiting for me to poke a brush through her

so I rush to her

she's with another hand

and I trusted her.

Paint becomes the girl I spent my time with.

She doesn't go to shows or bars either

but, we share a commonality

we both need love

and have amazing personalities.

So she loves herself

and I love she

we don't ever make love

only share sympathies

empathy dancing to

Bonobos intricacies.

Sampling the fruit of

the fume. The plight

of the plume.

The light in the room

gazes at us

welcoming the passion we share

beckoning us on and on

Continue! Says the light

Continue so I can be warm

and shine for you!

Ok ok ok

we wave the light away.

Now, she doesn't sleep

only drifts between the colors

of sleeping.

The waves of dreaming

one coming more rapid than other.

She writhes like a still born

come to life in the tide

My paint woman never goes to sleep

Sleep comes to her and

she insists that he desist

to harangue at her any longer

Beautiful
Thursdays,
even in
the rain.

Seven
will
be good
for me.

I had heard you say it
and thought it to be true
but not until today
did the words become clear

Better when you're in love
I see it in your face
it stands out in your smile
the colors and the shapes

Your words become a light
to lead misguided hearts
A leader of romance
I follow by your feet

One day tomorrow. One day tonight.

One day the mountains far out of sight.

One day the frame will focus in the lens.

One day the broken all will be fixed.

One day the moon will kiss us goodbye
and eject from sight to a foreign sky.

One day every face of every man from
every race will smile upon each other
and embrace arms as brothers.

One day the Earth will return to her
mother.

One day the Sun will burn for no one
but will shine in space to pass
the time.

One day today. One day tomorrow.

One day, Japan.

The Painting

IN an orange dim lit gallery, the conosieur approaches the woman. He points to a small rectangle canvas. "Did you do this?" He asks. A smile sweeps across the womans face. "I placed it there." "Yes.." the man continues, "..but, did you do this?" The woman's smile lingered."I brought it here and placed it on the wall myself." "It is very red." said the man. "Tell me, miss, is it for sale?" "Only to those that are interested in buying." "Well, I am very interested. How much are you willing to let this one go for?" "You tell me." "I beg your pardon?" "You tell me. How much are you willing to let this one go for, sir?" The man was silent. He stared blankly at the woman through the thick lenses of his round glasses. "Ma'am, I think you are terribly confused." "No, sir. It is you that is terribly confused." The woman's smile had faded. Her dark red face faded to a blackness. The man's face shifted into agony. His body twisted in an idle state. The woman took a step forward and began slowly. "The painting on the wall is not a painting at all." The man was frozon and she repeated "The painting on the wall is not a painting at all." A cold air dampend the room. "The painting on the wall is not a painting at all."  

These guys aren't doing it for the money.
They are doing it because they love doing it.
It shows in the sounds.
You can hear a passion in every note, during every movement.
They know each other. They are friends, brothers, compadres,
comrades, partners (in crime).
They are a collected group of genius with an ever expanding fishbowl.
Their arms reach out and grab you.
They are blue.
They are red and yellow.
A spectrum of of soundful emotions.
I respect these guys.
They went to school together..
they've grown together.
They are pirates on the radio.
Weird pirates with four eyes
and many limbs.
Lots of hair.
I feel these guys.
I want to feel like these guys.
Above money.
Above expectation.
Under the influence of love for their work.
Lifes work.
Life is work.
This is what they want.
They are having it.
And loving it.
Thank you guys for singing out the soundtrack to my current state.
You rock.