Thursday, July 31, 2014

I'm going to try to write a poem,
but I'm not sure how it will go. 
Every porous, every single gaping abyss; hope it flows. 
I'm perched atop death row. 
I hear the songs of crows. 
I want to say the words "I Love You" to everyone that I have known. 
The top will surely blow. 
The dark side; it'll show.
This earth doesn't have a fucking clue what will soon unfold. 
I can't do this alone, 
For I lack a pure soul. 
If life was sure to cease tonight, what standards would I hold? 

Monday, July 28, 2014

Sometimes I Write

Sometimes I write about things that I've seen.
Sometimes I write about places I've been.

Sometimes the words just don't quite seem to fit.
Sometimes processing thoughts can be a bitch.

Sometimes I write to escape life's cold grasp.
Sometimes I want nights to forever last.

Sometimes tomorrow is too far away.
Sometimes the nights are longer than the days. 

Sometimes I write simply because of words.
Sometimes I wish I could fly like a bird.

Sometimes I rhyme, and sometimes I don't.
Sometimes I think, and sometimes I won't.

Sometimes my words are unprepared reactions.
Sometimes I can't rid myself of distractions.

Sometimes the world seems so lovely and dear.
But most times I really just wish you were here. 

Monday, July 7, 2014

Don't be sold by pretty words,
Or caught inside another's world,
Don't be hostage to the lies,
Wasting all your precious time,
Rotting away, day after day,
Hoping for flowers to be sent your way,
As our rock of life spins, 
You need just a grin,
And not to be fooled 
When they tell you you've sinned,
Because at the last day's end, 
Or prior to when life begins,
Nobody ever seems to know
What truly exists. 
So don't seek solace in pretty words,
To me it all seems rather absurd. 

Thursday, July 3, 2014

The red hot sun is like napalm on the earth today, but not here. This place of beauty, where the trees, housing the birds that sing such sweet melodies, grow tall and firm; where the smoke delicately rolls off of the inscent and through my lips. Where the grass sunbathes, in its abundance of green. This place is perfect. This place is exactly where I want to be. This place is home.