Will You Come To My Funeral? (or) Are You My Friend?

Are you my friend? Are you really?

If I was lonely and bored, would you be willing to drop what you're doing and have me over? Even if you were tired, with a killer headache? Would you be okay if I saw you in a public place and snuck up behind you and gave you a big hug? Even if you were with a bunch of people I'd never met? Could you spend an hour on the phone with me and not get bored and try to ditch me? Even if I'm dead tired and lacking in all coherence? Would you lend me $10 and just let the debt slide? Even if it was for some completely useless crap from a garage sale? Would you volunteer with me for whatever, just so I'd have a friendly face to be around? Would you give me the keys to your house? Turn me away if I turned up smashed on your doorstep, or let me in and give me a place to sleep? Be there at any time to talk or just listen, whenever my heart happens to pick up another scratch or ding? Would you come to my funeral? Would you speak at it? Would you come to my wedding? Would you get plastered and slur funny comments into the video camera for us to laugh over years later? Would you consent to be my designated driver, even for the most boring and embarrassing high school reunion ever? Would you go on a cross country trip with me if I called you the day I was leaving? Would you walk to my house to lend me an umbrella during a thunderstorm if I had an errand to do, and my own umbrella was lost? Would you give me your jacket if you saw me shivering, even if it was 5 degrees below freezing and all you had on underneath was a t-shirt and jeans? Would you tell me that you're my best friend, and mean every word of it?

Am I your friend? Really?

I'd be willing to have you over, even if I was in the grip of The World's Worst Migraine. I'd hug you back, even if I was having lunch with my bosses. I'd listen to every sleep deprived word of your raving, and only laugh with you, not at you. I'd give you 2o bucks if I had them, just to help you satisfy one of your whims you ran into at an antique shop. I'd help you clean streets, even if you were just doing it as part of your community service time. I'd give you keys to my house, and the keys to my car if you wanted them. I'd give you a place to sleep, and a meal in the morning no matter what your condition, any time you showed up at my door. I'd try my best to fix every dent your heart gets hit with, no matter when you need me to help. I'd go to your funeral, and if I wasn't crying too hard, I'd get up and lie about how you had no faults whatsoever, and tell the truth about how my life was better every single minute since the moment I met you. I'd go to your wedding, drink champagne by the quart and slur my goodwishes into the video camera, for you to treasure for years to come. I'd be your designated driver even if we were going to a party at the house of a master brewer. If you called me 15 minutes before you were leaving to cross the country, I'd throw together a packback full of clothes and get someone to watch the house and be ready to go before you came to pick me up. I'd take the city bus during a hurricane if you needed someone to go out and get you groceries. And, when I'd show up soaking with a bag of cereal, fruit, beef jerky and milk outside your door, I wouldn't let a word of complaint pass my lips. I'd give you my jacket even if we were boarding a plane in Alaska in winter, if you were cold. Do I really need to tell you that you're my best friend? You're my best friend.

You're So Far Away/I'll Pretend I'm Happy Until You Come With Me

I like it when
Our arms brush in the car
And I enjoy it when
You say, "go too far?"
And we drive a little farther
Than our gas supply can take us
And we hold off on the trek to the gas station
So you can just lie in my arms

I noticed I was in love with you quite suddenly
When I woke up one night and thought you were lying next to me
(But it was just a dream) For a moment I liked where you slept

How come whenever I find "a one"
She always says no to me?
Just give up and be nice to me
All I want to do is keep you warm in my arms
And keep you in love as long I can possibly
When I write love letters that are just tossed in the fire
They don't mean a thing
Just be my friend
Then let our friendship end
So we can fall in love
And I'm sure you could have been made for me
If it's a golden cage you're afraid of
I can promise to keep you free
(Please?)

Unfinished poem

Hearts roam far in these dark ages
While the sunlight mostly shines on the living and the dying
So can you watch the heavens for a sign from above?
Nothing is more needed than an expression of divine love
Because it's so hard to walk this life alone
And underneath the veil of an eastern lady
Shines the bright eyes of a western girl
And over us all, throughout the whole world
A song is sung as the race is being won
But by whom? that's the question

On Sadness (or) *tear tear*

Here's a question I just have to ask; what makes things sad? I mean, not just "oh, that sucks" type sad, but like, the deep, personal type of sadness. When you're touched so deeply, in a place where your normal life never comes close to reaching, that even if what touched you is happy or good, you still become sad. It's like at the core of each of our beings is a bundle of sadness, and we don't even know it's there. But anyway, really, What makes things sad?
There are some things that will touch people repeatedly or with the same or similar reaction. Some songs will do it, (for me it's Hallelujah by Rufus Wainwright) and other times it is a certain poem, or movie sequence, or picture, or something else entirely. It just has to be something that reminds us that we are alive, life is filled with pain, to feel it is normal, to not ever cry from the sheer agony of being alive is insanity, and most importantly, Love Hurts, because what we are at the core of our beings is love and sadness. When we are reached, touched deeply by something, tears (a basic signal of sadness/strong emotion) are almost always a part of the experience.
But, again, what makes things touch so many different people? There must be some kind of equal imprint upon us all, to make the same song, or poem or painting or whatever it may be have such a strong effect on thousands of us humans. I think that one of the basic ways of defining humanity must be the effect of Art. Even if computers were capable of making advanced, autonomous decisions, they wouldn't be human if they didn't cry at the sound of heartbreak, in fact, to truely be human, you must be moved. There is evidence that poetry is a natural, instinctual form of art, and this must be true. No matter how scientifically advanced a civilization is, if they are not moved by emotion at the core of their beings, they are not humanity.

The Blisters On My Feet Don't Hurt As Much As The Calluses On My Heart

Listen carefully
Just like me
As I walk down this shadowy road
I think I can hear the ticking of a broken heart
And I realize, "that's too bad" because the ticking walks with me
Oh boy, my broken heart is ticking away
Like a time bomb or a death watch
And on this lonely road it's the only sound I hear

But I can make out other people through the shadows and the fog
Even though their faces are shadowed
And they are cold to the touch
I guess I'm still alone
Walking this crowded road

And I'm still feeling unbearably alone
Even as the lights dim
And you whisper in my ear
Come on, I know that this isn't you
Because you're not the same person I wasted hours on the phone with
Or dreamt about and was the subject of the wish
That I held so dear
Just let me look past the sweat
And dark lust and desire
So I can see the girl who turned my world
And helped me figure out who I was

It's 1:00 AM and I woke up
Cause the light of the moon and the sound of the train
Reminds me I have no idea what to do
She is an absolute everything to me
But just a myth, one that keeps away the horror by being believed in
The ticking of my watch, abandoned on the floor
Starts up my heart, and I get out of bed
Get dressed
And pace back and forth in front of the door
Shall I walk that lonely road?
It's all that's left now, I suppose
And the effects of love are really more just collateral damage
From hearts seeking some little contentment
But it's a beautiful night, perfect for walking
And I don't need to talk, as I walk this dim-lit road

Sunset Rd. Just Set On My Sun

He said it one last night as he shut the door
"Honey, I'm just too tired to care anymore
And I've really got to go"
Well, sometimes these things happen
And you just have to kindof let it ride
Which is hard, I know, when some is ripping your heart out
But really, what can you do besides see it through?
Just bide your time and wait for the return
Of the one who's more than you

And another thing to remember is that he just needs some space
Really, it's a need, not a want
Because if it was a want it wouldn't be hurting him
So just pray that there won't be a car crash
That'll turn your life into a heartbreak song
Just pray that everything comes back together
And sews itself up
Without even a scar

I can't believe all those lies and promises
And I just need to work this out
It'll only be for a while, honey (there the promises go again)
But I really have to go

Too Tired To Stop Working At My Problems

...What am I suppose to know here?
Why does everyone stare at me
Like there's some line I'm supposed to say
I'm a horrible actor
And I can't live my life this way
Just help me find a secret place where I can find some protection
And curl up and hide from the world
Please, just give me a hand
Throw me a flotation heart
Something I can pull myself out of the water on
Because even though I've been crowned king of the sea by popular vote
I'm afraid of deep water
And drowning
Even with you floating next to me

I know I'm supposed to recite cliches
For displaying love and dedication
But I'm uncomfortable at the thought
Of hoodwinking an entire nation
Of people who think that I don't feel
And can't hurt at all
I want to let you know that I have a wit
I can be original! I swear I can!
I can burn brighter than them all
If you cast me into the flames

Just listen to the words I whisper
Into your deafened, ringing ears
Try to understand when I tell you
That for now, there's nothing and no one
Who can equal you
For I'm so tired sometimes
When the pain just sets in deep
That I have to bleed out all my hate and envy
So I'm not some upright standing gentleman creep
And now is the time, my dear sweet darling
I tuck you in, and kiss you to sleep
And slid out of bed, put on my suit
Slide my feet into boots
And place a gun next to my heart
I'm dressed up and dangerous
And ready to see this through
Now if only I could win this losing battle
Or at least have any taste of victory at all
('Cause you know, I'd just be drinking it for you)

When The World Is On Fire, Who Puts It Out? Or Do We All Just Burn Together?

[this poem is dedicated to my friend Amanda]

Sometimes when I'm rising and falling
Taking pictures of sunflowers and the bodies in the streets
I just have to say
"I'm sure you'll carry on and make it through
Because, after all, the world has never seen someone just like you"
Cliched words, but I really don't care
Because no matter how you are
Living, loving, broken, defeated, dead
Or hopeful
We'll keep you inside our hearts
Even when we don't know where they are
Or do, and can't tell you

And Oh, there's so many bright lights
And no, no welcoming shadows at all
I hope you're not afraid to keep on living
Because sometimes we just have to walk alone
Although, really, we have Someone walking behind us all the time
Despite this, and a traveling song
Sometimes I get so weak
And the worlds changes form
With everything I once held dear a freak
And he'll see you lying next to him
And whisper words that he's never heard
No matter what you do, there will always be someone
Who can make you forgiven

But now's the time to confess;
You messed up
Or maybe we both did (but it's still mostly your fault)
Although, ya know, that doesn't really matter
Because the alarm just goes off earlier if you always wake up late
(Nothing's wrong with waking up late
If you never got any sleep at all
And nothing is bad when you try to make it right
As long as you do your best before you give up for the night)

With All The Flashing And All The Shadows, It's Surprising I Even Showed Up To This Press Conference

Why does it all have to be so hard
Why can't I just say "I love you"?
Would it really do that much to rock your world
Would it be that thoughtless to tell you what you should know
That I think you have my heart
And there's not much that can be done to change my part
In this elaborate play of life

With a life that's this demanding
It's good that it's at least this forgiving
And my eyes are shinging bright
From tears if you say no
And anticipation until you do
I'm sure that if you stick around, eventually you'll be forgiven
Even though there's nothing you think the mob wants more than your head

Why are you lying awake?
Can't you sleep, lying next to me?
Or are you just thinking, pondering love and ectasy?
I'm sure that if you sleep, you'll keep on living
Because too much of a good thing can kill you, especially if that good thing
Was never meant for feeling at all

And this whole poem is a metaphor
Or maybe I'm just aimlessly throwing words out
Hoping some of them will fall into someone's heart
And maybe mean something special to them
Well, I don't know for sure, I've been told
That if I don't rhyme these poems
They quickly grow old
And I don't know
Exactly what they're supposed to do
Except that it somehow involves a heart

Play Revival, Pt. 2

Well, I guess this is good bye
Good lord, good riddance
Because this is the very worst thing of all
That I should have leave you here
When in reality it's you that's leaving me

But I know
There's nothing I can say
That'll sound sweet, and not like revenge
Because all the left (behind) part of my heart wants
Is to kiss you goodbye, and make you stay
But the right half of the blood pump in my chest
And the rest of my body, all it wants is to is watch you walk away
But make sure you don't get home

And the world is messing with my head
Making my teenage dreams rip themselves to shreds
Maybe its left you alone
But not me
So all I need is a heart to make mine
And then I'll be able to bury these young, (but still worn out) bones
And have them up in time to go to school
And learn how I'm supposed to carry on through life
Instead of how I've learned to survive

Can someone call a medical man?
Because our actor just fell down onstage
His lips are moving, and he seems to be ok
But we have to halt the show
For we want it all
A perfect act, and better lie
And our leading man is just that
A man, not a hero
So give him time to bleed
We'll have him on again in a little under an hour

Dandelion

It's a dandelion. It was one of the few in my yard when I took this picture; now they're everywhere.

My Heart Will Always Be The Understudy For My Hurt

I've got a feeling/And it feels like a threat/And the taste on my lips/Is one I'd rather forget/Because sleeping brings dreams/Which bring me back to you/And I hate to be reminded of the worst time for me to lose

Not tonight/Not ever/Because when light ceases/So does life, and love/And everything that gave us our flavor/Just leave me alone in the cold/I think you'd be doing me a favor

I've got a feeling/And it feels like regret/And the sound of your voice/Is what my heart bled/But the blood keeps flowing/Wettens my sheets like a flood of emotion/And stains floor, and creeps under the door

Not tonight/Never, forever/Because the light is dimming/And the victims of love/Are spitting their regrets in my face/And if they can't put them into my head/My heart is the only other place

That Summer Feeling (or) Sunshine, Memories and etc.

Tonight I'm getting that summer feeling. I carried my laptop outside to write, and I don't regret it. I didn't listen to any music, I turned the sound off on my comp. I just sat in the dark and typed. Without any movement, all my aches and pains from the day stood out. Without me making any sound, everything, from birds saying goodnight, to windows opening, to neighbors talking three doors down, everything stood out. There's a heavenly breeze; scented with all kinds of flowers. The temperature is just right; not too warm, not too cold, just a tiny bit cool.

And this is making me get my summer feeling. It's where I feel like I should just break free, go walking and visit my friends, even though it's late at night. I want to just forget about troubles and responsibilities, and live life happily. And carefree.

Maybe that'll happen someday, but not tonight. I have to get to bed. There's lots of work that still needs to be done, and I need my sleep.

Play Revival, Pt. 1

When I was a young boy
My father played piano
He was playing when I woke up in the morning
And he played all through my days
He calmed me in the evening
And from the dining room sung me to sleep at night
And when he died, and gave up his last breath
He was sitting, playing at the piano
And he told me, "Son, when you grow up
Remember, life isn't what it seems
Before you break down or they fade away
Remember to capture your dreams"

But the world just kept on wheeling
And kicking me along
Though I'm limping, breaking and bleeding
I still feel the bite of its boot, and it feels wrong
And visiting him on his anniversary of early goodbye
I can hear him playing
And he keeps playing, great enough to wake the dead
And he does, and they do
Wake, then die
Sleep, but don't take me
Because nothing can harm me in my dreams
But only when I let them slip away
That's when they frighten me in the dark
And tell me I was too late

Mask by Jillian K.

All of life is a performance
at least that's what they say
You make the props,
the scenery, the script,
but it's all improv and feeling.
But what happens when
you can't feel anything
How can you go on?
If all of an actor's talent
comes from the heart,
how are you supposed to
create the illusion for the audience?
Or do you have to retire
and be a spectator?
When feeling goes
what is left?
I'll tell you what is left,
A mask and nothing else.

An Empty Stage And An Echo Are All That's Left Of The Greatest Show On Earth

I've changed my tune since you left me
Now I think I'm finally ready to give up on you
Instead of wondering
What's making you give up on me

But your eyes make it so hard
Even though neither of us want to be here
I can't stand the thought of "over"
So I'm asking myself
Can I give up on you?

Maybe not, maybe so
Possibly yes, and probably no
But I, I give up on you
And the love I could have had
Please, just let me give up
Because with a girl like you
It's just too hard to let you go

Untitled

Maybe we're all the one who's messed up
Dropping apologies like spoiled fruit on the ground
Or maybe we're all just forced attendees
Of a mix between a funeral, boot camp and masquerade ball
Where everyone lies
And everyone dies
To the beating of the marching drum
And the sound of the sergeant's cry

But this blood upon my palm
Reminds me that I'm still around
And so is everything else around me
That I can scrape and scratch my soul on
So come on you unbelievers
You shan't stand before this army
For we are armed with faith
Faith with the ground on which we walk
And the air with which we talk
And the God for which we speak
For all among us will die loved
From the quiet hero to the vocal freak
We are here

I will let my words enslave no one
But let them decide how they will
Make the truth contained in them.

I Saved This As A Draft And Published It As A Failure

It's been a long long time since I've felt this
But the heat of hate is almost comforting
Sort of like an anti-bliss
A cardiac amputation
That leaves me gasping and in pain
But reassures me that I'm still alive (for now)
Now isn't the time for apologies and talks
Just for running away without saying goodbye
Even though I don't like leaving under the stare
Of eyes that plainly say, "die"

Running through the forest and field
Back to the sweet dream I once knew
I fall down the hill to the river below
My hope comes true; you came here too
But so did he
Penetrating my dream, and me
And simply one of his looks has shook
And broken, and frozen
My heart

This is the last time
This is my very last time
I said, this is the very last time
I'll let someone take my life
Don't say no when I ask why
This is the way things had to be

If It Was Up To Me, I'd Be Right Up Next To You

The house is silent, as a grave
I walk slowly and carefully, reminding myself to behave
As I should in such esteemed company
I find the doorknob, turn it and run
As from out of the room floats "shut the ******* door!"
From my esteemed hosts, lying on the floor

Ohhh, oh oh
I can't believe it's true
But apparently I faked it
Because all the words were fired
But none of them hit true (hit you)
And isn't this exactly where I shouldn't be
Or maybe it's just where I ended up, and isn't good or bad at all
Although I'm probably just trying to justify making bad mistakes

I swore already in the courtroom
That I saw the narrator shot dead in the prologue
Yes, I know the protagonist found him in the second to last chapter
But I swore I saw him shot and killed before the story ever started
And can't I make any of these poems rhyme?
That irritates me to no end
You know, that the ending sounds of my lines never seem to blend
But, that doesn't matter tonight, my friend

Because no matter where you are
Or how stupid my words sound
I'm just going to softly sing you to sleep
With you lying like a little child in your big empty bed

Honestly, if I could I would make this right
And honestly, I wish I had heard your voice
Before I dropped off to sleep in this cold lonely bed

1st Ever Guest Poem! "I'm From", By Rachel E.

I'm from a Family that Teaches,
While my brother teaches me patience
My dog teaches me responsibility

I'm from my room
My practice place,
My guitar sits on my lap,
As I strum every chord as if they all
Had some sort of meaning

I am from the kitchen
Scavenging for food,
Opening the refrigerator searching for
Some food that looks satisfying at the time

I am from the softball diamond
I stand on the pitchers mound,
My turf, And of course
I pitch a perfect strike

I am from the computer,
iTunes, AIM, and Internet
are always open when
I am on the computer

I am from banana cream pie
Baked by my grandma
Topped with one extra scoop
Of whipped cream

I am from a camp ground,
A Warm fire, and smores
At night the chrickets chirp slowly
Puts you to sleep

I am from friends
We stick together like
Fruit kabobs
We’re always there for eachother

I am from Starbucks
That is where I live
A caramel latte with cinnamon cake
Is all I need

I am from the lake
Swimming until I can’t swim any longer
Maybe riding swiftly around in my grandpa’s boat
Or maybe being pulled on
A tube by a thin wire

This is where I’m from