I was fourteen, So was she. I had been away from school for a while, I didn't bother, and they didn't care. I had heard about her from the freak vine. That she had given it up to a real sleazy guy named Todd. I didn't know her, and I figured hey no points...
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Just my thoughts Stories
The poem of the blue man pt1
I am called the sprit walked some times(To say this poem is true is relevant to me... alone.) This poem is the truth.My nights are wicked lonely.Just a weird fate and a puppy dog innocence.You might think innocence is free.It isn't.This night was a strange one.I lived next to a party distric...
I can feel freedom coming, but it doesn't know my name. I want to play in the crush of brown leaves of fall, but I don't think I know the game. I leave my words to hear like a bible, a fool with no passion.My consequences are laced across my back, freed...
Who are you, lady? That you mean that much to me. Are you the goddess of longing.... futility? Are you my quenched thirst?Are you an unfinished poem? Why does your hair hurt me?Why does a desperate glimpse into your eyes only make me cry? Are you an answ...
Running with the calvary since I was 7 years old. Leaving my sticky blood in the clay seems incomplete.Violence and agony are music only the insane can hear. What a heart pumping fife and drum called me from my home. Taking the flag, silver and guns is o...
I played my guitar, but my fingers started to bleedI let them heal the smallest price to payBut those chords cost and costI broke her stringThen sent a new line up the vineThat one broke tooFor my whole life is just a splinter of painIt is my taoA curse o...
All poets AskIs any one listening For most none areThese are the hidden poemsWe speak at midnights agonyWhat do we see when we look on our aging back to our box under the skyWhat drives us to give pureWords and broken love Burning the hair, she gave us as...
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I have been all over the earth. I have left footprints in blood and clay in every nursery rhyme. If I had a chance I would dance on everybody's grave. Don't you think a merry jig is a good reason to live?If you ask me how many paces it is to the moon, I...
As you sit there drumming your fingers on your random desktop. I want you to pause a moment and focus. What are you really doing? Think about it. We all do it. We have done it our whole lives. Rolling or fingers back and forth... gathering wool. If we ar...
Hey, I know you know her. Or you think you know her. If you ever see her. Tell her. Tell her I think of her often. Be clear and tell her. That her hair is the same poem, as when the wind whips a perfect Raven high. Tell her that her eyes seem intelligent...
Oh, mighty is the blazing sun.Is it not?Imagine...10 billion years ago.This hot thing.Spinning.Alone in the void.Without meaning.Alone.It must be the coldest of things to project like that.About 7 billion years long as the sparrow whispers to me in spring...
I collect nickels. I like the smooth edges. They seem unpretentious. They will never amass a fortune. To buy even a book you need to stack them high. I keep them for sentimental reasons. I made a wish with one a long time ago. It was about dedication, a...
I pause for a long breath.My hands under tension with the pressure to perform.How silent the written word.Be it joy or anger calamity or furry.It is a whisper in your mind.An illusion unique to the human condition.It is not a story I have come to tell.Tha...