Thursday, April 05, 2007

It Only Gets Harder To Be Respected, If Everyone Knows You're Right

Last summer I scored "good" all across the board
But by last fall, I was a fallen ace
A bruised and broken dream
Through the winter I watched the ice creep
All through the windows in my eyes
Every day, in the newspaper, the cover story claimed to be
"Young, Smart Boy, Cannot Find His Enemy"


Well, you're all just breathing water
And I join you, though it's making me a clown
'Cause I'm the only one who knows he's drowning
Even though my voice just spills and makes no sound
Some say if you rhyme a poem, it loses all its soul
Well, I say that a rhyme-less poem
Just rasps out what is not whole

Now I don't mean to hurt you
I just want to live
But it's so hard to play the game
When all you want to do is give
Just give everyone else victory
And let them win the game
Though to the rules, that is not fair
That's losing, acting lame
I know this makes no sense
But I've done the best I can do
It hurt me to write this, dear reader, just as much
As it hurts you.

Wednesday, April 04, 2007

Hearts Beat In Union With The Dissonance

This is a love letter to my heart's one true enemy
The one who can always strike it down just a look of the eye
I cried on your couch till I woke the house up
And when I had to explain why I was there,
The poet and hypnotist in me was laid bare
I was lost and won and lost again, like a crown or an island
Still my heart beats, though by all rights it's a dead heart

And my all wrongs are set apart
From all the deeds I didn't do, and all the loves I thought were true
This bullet, dear, I dedicate to you
The powder smells as the bullet tears through the roof
I smell like a sinner, low and aloof
And this letter still writes itself, though by all rights
It's just something I'll put back on the shelf

Tuesday, April 03, 2007

I'm Reading About The After-Life, When I Should Be Working On This One

Shouldn't I know by now that poems are just a headless hammer?
A failed and broken cure for growing older?
All they're good for is showing everyone the way the poets are
Even my best rhymes can't cover it up
Can't cover it up
But I still say
Give me two more weeks and ten Saturday's
And I swear I'll make everything feel ok
I think you're showing me open doors
But the key is still in the lock, and I have no idea if they're open-ended...

On a summer day, you and me
Making our own paradise
But not the one that really matters
I smile when I think of my accidental genius
And frown at all my goodly contrived mistakes
I'm trying to cast off the skeletons on my back
Just remember to remind me why we came before the last song plays

...

Well, that was a nice poem. I think that it's funny, how often I write. I hear lots of good things about my work, but...Sometimes to me it seems like I'm just massproducing sentiment. Is it still meaningful if there's a million other near-copies of the work? Is it still possible to be original, in a world like the one we have today, where the Internet spreads everything out over the entire Earth? Can people still come up with some sacred scrap of cleverness? Am I being original, or just lying in a new way? I don't know. I just don't know. And I don't think I'm anywhere near to figuring it out. So until I do, or don't, I'll just sit here, typing on my keyboard, cranking out hopes, dreams, and words that other people don't have the strength or natural wit to speak.

I still have far to go...I haven't published anything yet. I'm sitting here in my tiny, rented room in the metropolis of the Blagosphere. And what am I doing? Whispering to the world. I really should try to get some of this between the covers of a book. There's far more out there then just a network of blogs....maybe I should try aiming for success in the real world, the one where you live and die. Well, dear audience, back to the play...

...

Is my heart a little more than you bargined for?
I can tell you wanted a cat, but you got a lion
You're taking yourself down, and dragging everyone with you on your way up
There's a loaded gun in the closet, and the crowd in the theater says
"Don't pull it, don't pull it"
Well, you make another notch in the wall to tell the time
But it's seven o'clock according to your watch
If almost none of my metaphors and witticisms make sense
I guess, incoherently enough, I'm still making myself known
Even if it's only through mystery, like why I'm listening to the same song
Three times in the half hour

Sunday, April 01, 2007

Abthirdly Personal

Could you love a man
Who loves with a diamond?
A hard jewel he holds
In the palm of his hand
He's luckier than most
He can take his heart right out of his chest
And look at it
And he sees a man, who has a heart of diamond
He sees it reflected, in the palm of his hand

Would you believe me if I told you
He doesn't want to hurt anyone?
Maybe you could believe something like this
"He just wants to get along, to actually be friends
You know, the kind that never ends
He just wants to say what he really means
And wait for an hour, or more
Just to see her once again"

He'd pick you up when if you went down
If you're knocked down
He's just the one to get you on your feet again
And, he just wants you to know
He lives his life, just dancing on
Hoping all the time for a partner to join him
For just the very next song

Friday, March 30, 2007

Not For The Boys

I've got a question for the person on the street
Who picked up my heart as she walked by
A motion so automatic, she didn't even notice as she did it
Neither did I
So here's my question, that I have to ask
Who are you? where are you?
Do you have space in your heart for a traveler and his pack
Full of things that he'd much rather lack
Broken pieces of dreams once held dear
Crumbs of love, smashed and spoiled
And stupid metaphors such as this?
I'm just another sunken-eyed fool
Searching for bliss
And this, and this
This looks a lot like bliss, even though it's you
So I guess not bliss, just a care-worn happiness
The kind that feels good when you crawl under the sheets after a long
Hard day
And I don't honestly know if I'll ever be that way
And I also don't know if I'm scaring you with these words
If I were me, you, my reader, were she
Would you run and hide from the dark, wild passion inside
Such a youthful, well-spoken, well-read boy?

(But maybe this doesn't really matter, anyway
But then nothing would matter at all, in any single way)

Thursday, March 29, 2007

I S Wnt T Lv Y, Thgh t Nvr Wrks t Rght

I never know how to start a poem without diving into sentiment
So I've started it with these pointless lines
So now, introduction aside
You might read this and wonder, "if he's so taken by me
Why hasn't he called? why hasn't he told me?"
Well, you know I would have
But I've got a lousy arm when it comes to throwing caution to the wind

I'm giving up on myself as we speak
And making a comeback as we part
I hope someday someone will give me the chance to figure myself out
Baby, I hug your image, in my head
And stuff the other side of the bed
I make the Sign of the Cross, touch my heart and hope to die
With a shard from your heart in my eye
And life is a long song, and mine is on on repeat
When I think of all the cliched lines I use to try capture hearts
It makes me want to cry, because I'm such a sensitive man

I'm perfectly aware that things aren't the same anymore
But I try to keep the reality away from my heart
Because it's bad for the resale value if it falls apart
I'd trade my sad-boy blues for your wide-eyed happy girl browns
And give up my anger and frustration for the sigh of contentment
I could pull from the lips of you

Wednesday, March 28, 2007

Could It All Just Last Until The Stars Burn Out?

I look at you from my sunken-eyes chair
Smell your perfume on the breeze and taste the wind in your hair
And wonder, you and me; could we last?
Could we taste something so sweet
Could we dissolve into a future past?

And these are just the lovesick moanings
Of a lonely boy with a heart of gold
And a gilted tongue of elegance
Don't you know that I'm only a stitch in time away from you
A single life that wants to prove that it's true
And I carry a scar in the shape of a knife
Men go, get wives
And then waste their life

Could we last?
Could these words actually be spoken?
Could love make its move once again?
Cupid stole my heart
And left it shot in a ditch
And I know that if this sob of a poem catches your ear
Then you must be desperate
Just like me

I just want to tell you that when I see your face
My blood pump bangs and breaks
Blood cells cry for emotion shed
In the form of chemicals and tears
I wonder if you know that your touch upon my arm
Is all my eyes need to dilate

Could we last?
Could love if we did?
Could I if they didn't?
Isn't it better to feel like it's love that killed you
Rather than a lifelong fall?

Monday, March 26, 2007

Memory For Me

The smoothness and grace
Of my hand on your face
The best times always happen when the parting is forever
And you'll always be the person in my dreams
I'll keep your memory, wherever you roam
Far away from me, farther still from home
If you lose yourself in foreign lands
If cold sleet or hot wind bite or burn your perfect hands
I will remember you

And I'll remember you though nations fall
And anarchy envelops us all
I'll be remembering you even as stars fall from the sky
While ice freezes the tears of all those who cry
For the world, and the paradise
And loves such as you and I

I'll remember you, because of compassion
But you'd stay in my mind either way
For the subtle way you've crept inside my heart
Shows me that your soul longs for comfort (which I cannot give
But I'll do my best to shield you) just like everyone else
And the ice is thin, nothing but a mirror
Between people like you, and me
Shivering, shaking, for your memory
I'm blinded by the Light of God
And no more have I strength to waste
As the sun sets for the final bow
I know not where you are, now
But your memory is in my mind
Even as I begin to climb
That long, long golden ladder

Sunday, March 25, 2007

Departure From Style

i know you listened at the door
hand ice cold upon the floor
you couldnt not listen to the lies
with tears in your eyes, you took my words
ones that werent meant to be heard
you weep for the love you thought was lost
and for the heart, cruelly tossed
dont you know i still love you
and always will through thick and thin
right from thought, down through my skin

Thursday, March 22, 2007

Something Good, If It Comes

The tv's on, but nobody's watching
And you turned me on, but you're not watching
You're not taking advantage of the state I'm in
Not choosing to lead me down any path, be it paradise or sin
I'm naked in the snow, you took my clothes away
And left me bare to all
With just a slight scrap of my illusions to keep the cold at bay
Just put me out of my misery
Shoot me in your special way
Love me, leave me
Which is better than having never been loved at all
Take me drinking, I want to drown my sorrows down

You're more experienced than me
You're the cat, and I'm the mouse
And you play with me, oh so gently
Coming close enough to feel me tense
Bath me with your breath
But never breaking skin
You know? this is really something
You're screwing me up, messing with my head
Violence is one more matter of the heart
And you, you're really something

Sunday, March 18, 2007

Oh, The Cold, And Oh, The Snow

This is what they brought me
Wrapped in silk and silence
Sing of what you can never understand
Signs of darkness, sighs of light
Look into my eyes and see the locks laid there
See what stirs in my mind as I lay me to sleep
Mysterious but true, I'll never leave you
And now you can wonder if that's a blessing or a curse

Ice, snow and wind are embedded in my soul
It's carved with patterns old as time
Old as stories by the fire
For years untold I, my ancestors walked in the cold
Grew strong with the snow, grew old with the cold
Cold
Love my body, darling
Hug me close, hold me tight
But don't try to solve the cold inside
It's something you can neither banish nor hide
Just live with the knowledge that is greater than me

I'll give the cold in my eyes
You give yourself to sleep in the cold and the dark
With me
This is a promise of my heart of diamond
And a promise of your life of gold

Friday, March 16, 2007

On Success (or) Under Failure

The success that some people strive for is very different from what others long for. Same for failure. For some people success is a momentary feeling that everything is all-right, everything is ok for the moment. For others success is growing old and being able to care for their children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren while living comfortably. How do they achieve their seperate ideals? Some can succeed by doing as little as picking out the perfect music to cure their bad or restless mood. Others find success by closing huge business deals. Giving hugs completes other people, while some get that good feeling by punishing bad guys. Shouting out with expression, (i.e. poetry, music) and getting a positive response works very well too. <;) Loving a person, helping them feel good. All of these things can help people get on top of success.

Failure. Something I'm in a good mood, and so don't really want to write about. Let's just say that it's when you've regressed on the path towards what you want. Or when you set your expectations so low that you don't need to work to get to them.

Well, I'll write more later. I'm off to go succeed.

Thursday, March 15, 2007

Venus De Milo Couldn't Spare A Dime For Another Ten Minutes On The Parking Meter

The crowd waits to see what he'll do
Watches him exposed, nothing but bare
Like a butterfly stuck and pinned up there
A wonderful example of "gone to pot"
Few love him, some hate him
Most don't care; quite a lot
But summertime leaves all the leaves in the trees
Strangers with knives hold hugs for you and me
And it's hard to believe inspiration can lie
And it's easy to believe that I don't often try
Till suffocation makes me desperate, and onions make me cry
I smile, as I look you in the eye
And gesture at the dance floor, the fiddle starts away
Gone for a moonlight trip, a wet-grass slip
And we'll never be exactly the same as we were five seconds ago
Gramophone blues, it's all old news
And the ice in the window crawls into the inside
Crawls like death in cold-ish form
"Fill out our forms, and we'll send you to die
It's what we do, though we don't know why"
Sweet baby dream, growing up fast
Time in bed never lasts
You can't dream your way to infinity, only to tomorrow
You're the ice-cube in my glass
I'm the windows in your past

(I'm in your past, as time goes by
It's what I do, though I don't know why)

Wednesday, March 14, 2007

To The Young Man Building A Castle Round His Heart, Can You Lend A Trusting Ear?

A crack of a gun at the crack of dawn
A father lies, and so does his son
Staying the light, for a year or a day
They're fit for war, and so for peace
But a piece of plaster comes falling down
And splits on the stage, no one notices the sound
In the rushing and confusion
Of life's long improvised play

But my hero returns, knight gone back to the night
But I waited for you a year, I waited a day
And the bells didn't sound and the sun didn't rise
I couldn't lift my lonely shameful eyes
But I cried for the poets sent off to die
And I shed tears for the brave boys who felt they had to try
Only when the piper piped on his flute
Did I raise my head, it was an absolute
Disaster

Disaster, said he
Disaster, replied she
"We grow up not knowing who we are
Only knowing that we'll never know until it's too late
To apologize to all the lost loves and lovers lost
But we hang our head and its ache
As we pick up the dead and break
The stalemate of life, and the deadlock of strife
I take you, young lady, as my wife"
The ring upon the sun marks the exact, precise nature of all your fears
(Rhymes give you strength to face the day
Though no one knows why they work that way)

Monday, March 12, 2007

Welcome, Welcome, One And All To Walter's Literary Circus!

I'd like to start a new tradition here, at my wee bloggy blog. Guest Writer! If you write, be it full length novels, short stories or poems, Send me an example! Just email what you want posted with whatever info you feel is needed (name for you and title for piece are mandatory) and I'll put it up. However, each person only gets one guest write (I might occasionally ask for more, though <;). I'm looking forward to this new thingy-ma-bobber. I think it'll create a little, shall we say, "community" here. <8) Well, that's all for now...

I'm Supposed To Love You, Say Neurons In My Brain

I can tell by the way every poem starts with love paraphrased
That you're my one and only, true blue love
If only I knew who you are...

But when you kiss the sun, third time is the charm
Some nights the light gets so bad, I have to call the manufacturer
And ask what's the deal? and why can't I sleep over her blue-brown eyes?

I'd sing a song for you, but the show's so close to closing
I'd try to make it up to you, but I'm not in the know about knowing
<:D emoticons show emotion better than words when your lover is a million miles away

This poem was born under a bad sign
Like "Warning, Unsafe Terrain" or "Break Glass In Case Of Fire"
Still, I'm the prince of a crazy neon empire
And I walk around in my water-logged shoes, hoping for one last chance
At another last chance
The script says I'm supposed to love you
But my heart says it isn't love
It's something unusual, not something like love that I remember so well
But still, I'm supposed to love you as the words drop from my lips
And they encourage me to do or do not as the sun sets down its glow for the day
And I have no idea how or why I feel this way...
Girl, they say I'm supposed to love you, I think I might actually, really, possibly, somehow,
Love you
(But it's not bad enough to make me pick up the phone
And dial the number to connect me to your home)

Wednesday, March 07, 2007

Pwmed

I called your house when you were at work
Just to hear your answering machine voice
You left, walking away in silence
There suddenly wasn't any more you
Or any more me...
Don't leave me alone
I'm stupid, I know
But I'm so sick of living a love song
So sad every day and every night
Why can't I find out why you left...
Why do I always fail in holding in the tears
Whenever I'm standing in the bathroom undressed
I'm still wishing that I'm seeing your face
Hearing your love, and how you used to say you'd never leave
Until the day when you got up and left me alone...
You happy lovers child, smiling through the rain
I listen to your answering machine every single day
It's the number one song on my mental radio
(You were my world, but you came crashing down
Smashing me in your descent
It barely made a sound)

Tuesday, March 06, 2007

You On The Sea Of Me

Rather than "I love you"
I'd prefer to hear "I trust you"
Rather than having you love me in the dark
I'd prefer you just rest your head on my shoulder in the quiet
Because truth is the best way to live
I feel true when I'm with you (and that's the truth)
So rest your head
Let the sun set
Leave good-byes until the tide pulls us apart
Love is truth and truth is love
You'll find them both in my heart
In every little nook and cranny, in every single part

(I'm the truth, and I can love a liar
So tell me anything, it won't change any of it at all
Take your best shot, my heart is open
No one feels you'll hit like I do)

Monday, March 05, 2007

The Wished Words Of Yesterday Are This Morning's Apologies

You've just made this a disaster town
Why am I so miserably stunning?
Far from genuine, pond-scum cunning
I can't understand why the right thing feels so wrong
I don't want to get involved in her messed up life
No, I'm not for the argument and strife
I'm better than this, I'm worse than that
I'll apologize, say I'm sorry
It might help, even though I don't mean it...
The truth I've picked is gonna hurt you
Worse than anything I could ever do by myself

Think back to the way I held your hand
Warmed it up, so you wouldn't feel icy inside
God, why is the truth always so cold?
Do we only warm ourselves with lies?
Showing up outside your bedroom window
I nod and smile, and walk away as you yell at me from your
Window-sill perch. I can't take you much longer
Slick, yeah, stylish, affirmative
But why do you still keeping stabbing yourself
Right through me?
When you find out how it hurts
Will you have the guts to walk down in all your makeup and shame
And tell me that you're sorry?
(I don't want anything greater than a sorry...)

Friday, March 02, 2007

I'm A Poet, Not A Knight Or A Hero (But I'll Do The Best I Can)

Tried to stop you from asking me again
I don't know if, I don't know when
This'll happen again
I've tried so hard
To get through the pain, to get to the love
But I have a feeling love is busy
And I sense lust is on the other line
Lady, I swear, I say
That I'll never let you down
You've dropped me already, but I won't drop you
(You never call me when I'm down
Your lust is all that wants me)
Can't you understand?
You kiss, and I'll tell you what I mean
I mean that this is too good to last
But I'll keep this alive, keep it out of the past
Keep our hearts pressed in the pages of the dictionary
That beats on the shelves of our love...

I'm trying to say this directly
I'm a poet, not a knight
I have no shining armor, and my sword is only a pen
But I'm trying to do the best I can
Trying to shield you at my expense
Every little word is for your benefit
I know I love you
I think you lust me
What's going on inside your soul?
Let me hear the secrets of your mind and heart
Just give me a sign, are you worth the effort
It takes to protect you? because I'm breaking apart
(Let's try to get this right, one more time
You're the hunted, I'm the decoy
And they're the hunter, the rest of the world
Will you thank me when it's over?
Or just leave me broken on the ground?)