A Traditionalist's Thoughts

The washing tides are stronger than undeveloped wills

Breaking down the step-by-step, faster than free thoughts

and furthermore songs I avoid writing, things I avoid trying,

and to wonder why water floods down on empty windowpanes

I can't complete the answer

Birds of my persuasion get wrapped up in the washer

calling me to deliver a perfectly constructed argument

and words of advice and compliments -

A reasonable person would appreciate

But I fall, flying in abysses they told me not to venture in

But wait, the canyon is shallow.

So shallow, though to drown simple sentiments into

stifled melodies saved for later, I said,

I have no words, no thoughts, only emotions

Can you comprehend that?

A completely Feeling motivation for one of "life's administrators?"

All my brushstrokes lie within lines I lay for myself

Lonely, yes, but never loose to lose constructions

my pen's dictated since twelve years past

Ink clearer than the outline of my eyes

Saving long-strung thoughts for twelve years forward - just wait.

Just wait.

Madness Crossing Sadness

Sirens and flashing rooms and writing on walls,
pulsing glee, simpler things
Ten hands tending to heights

There's always a reason to expect
Genies from ruins,
adult nightlights, and I think
We can do better than
Madness crossing sadness
Fraying at the edges and forgiving exes and
We find shelter in the arms of the forgotten

Years write themselves on blank faces and blank pages and you say,
"There's a reason."
But I prefer
A brand new way to a brand new me
See yourself
Reciting the alphabet backwards and pretend
You're okay
I can write sad songs and you can play sadfully along and pretend you know what
I'm thinking

Even I don't trace back but we
Need more than we're giving and based on our body language
We're ghosts sitting on the wall pretending
One minute is enough time
Enough to delve deeper
And make yourself into something you're not
Plays on words and
Fragments of truths you
Whisper.

"Who do you think you are?"

Foreverland

Artificial energy,
riveting into those 3AM thoughts and 5AM dreams
Who sees the deepest thoughts?
Ode to a foreverland on repeat
and I think
I can.

4th and Final

Creativity is a magnet, polarizing the practical and dreaming
Drought dried distaste for dimmer dinners
Blurred into one piece de la resistance
I change the streams of my own glory
Volition is stronger.

Believing I didn't need home
The unexplored world is but my temporary home
Which do I choose?
Indecision haunts souls that dance together in limelight
Hidden in subway tracks
Kind of shrugging into contradictions
in the night-line
in the high-line
in The End.

Summer Mindset

Winter has overstayed his welcome
Left his shoes at the doorstep in October
But it's almost April now,
almost spring, almost endless things
A lover who won't leave
Leave me be

Every day I daydream of California breeze
Sun striking my tanned, red cheeks
Simpler days, he reads my childhood
back to me like textbook creeds

One take, only take,
all more than mistakes
Criticizing, scrutinizing, deconstructing
I miss you more

I miss not the weather
But the beauty in a mundane life
Every day a play off yesterday
More dreaming, less thinking,
More singing, less blinking

So many times I thought of running
But his shackles are iron and my will
Weak enough to dismiss
The will to write of a summer I miss

Come back to me.

Swimming to Sunshine

I need some distraction
Let me be weightless and find peace
in darkness and depths of wreckage
May I find some sanctuary,
some storm to lift the weight

Capture the sentiments of a
calming song you sing me
and the endlessness of the night
flirting with forever

The arms of music
wraps me in melodies
And I, lonely I
inspire a million lights, an encyclopedia
of eighteen years of life

Why do I seem so old? So wrinkled, yet so unwise
Complexities creep 'neath my fingertips
Striving to be happy and carefree and
swimming forever to sunshine

Lullaby Me

Lullaby me to a silent reverie
as the symphony swells and you
paint a shining crest of fortunes you
craft in my memory

I speak to wisps of reality
trickling in dreams unknown,
haunting every thought
with the beauty of productivity

Industrialized thoughts, flowering
tomorrow's fantasy and
boughs of creased hopes, your
original origami seeks release

Attempting to cry, attempting to see
what I hide, what I most ardently seek

Sorrows seep in souls unknown
Fall-away dreams, mysterious gleams
All my memories, peace

Granite Fashions & Cellophane Strings

Rivers fall on tracks riveting
Everyday citizens lining ordinary heights
Ants see only peripherally
Little thoughts, little dreams,
Little wishes, little themes
Crumbling to chocolate liquor streams
Swimming upstream to tags unworn by modest upbringings
Jumping downstream to a different face of fantasy
Magic has a different name
A different flame, a bittersweet game

Granite fashions and cellophane strings
Frozen fingertips and broken heartstrings
Winter prys those who fall to the feet of blistering reality
Tears from an angry cloud swish in unproofed shoes
Left unprovoked and untarnished
Wash, rinse and repeat

Want inspiration? Run somewhere else
Secrets color streaks in a lonely palm tree
Three days is plenty