Friday, March 2, 2018

Window Pane

When you’re a window pane
Love doesn’t look the same
Cover my brilliant shame
Held here on one thin plane

Dad
Let’s take a trip
Let’s let the world recede behind
And mostly in our minds

Not sad
Not just to bitch
To be alive and not inclined
To care an itch 
I’m fine
I’ve not declined 
I’ve not a reason to keep following
A book of men and shit

I’m dying
But it’s our time
To be another place
Where no one else exists

Coz when you’re a window pane
Love doesn’t look the same
Cover my brilliant shame
Held here on one thin plane
Insane
The sane
The same

Sad
Always a bit
It’s a place I like to go although
Don’t really care it

Not bad
When it’s legit
And we don’t need to hide behind
The thrill of it

I’m dying
It’s not a crime
A life is what I have to give
But don’t acknowledge it

So why
Do I wanna fly
When it’s not inside 
My physical abilities

When you’re a window pane
Love doesn’t look the same
Cover my brilliant shame
Held here on one thin plane

[everybody - key change]

When you’re a window pane
Love doesn’t look the same
Cover my brilliant shame
Held here on one thin plane

Friday, February 23, 2018

A Wake

On the day it’ll be fine
Maybe even blue skies, likely wine

Still sad, but not for me
I’ll be in the smoke that’s on the breeze

With Jeff Buckley riding waves
From the speakers of a thousand watt PA

I hope it blows everybody’s hair
Horizontal for that last exchange we share

When I can’t be killed I plan to stun
My life is done, eternal death has just begun 

Pressure to make leisure feel less fun
Indentured to a feeling I could never overcome 
  
Never lost for reasons for the rage
I think that now I’m gone we might be on the same blank page 

A wake
A little something 
Maybe baked 
A little peace (piece?)
A little cake
Missing a little life just for my little sake
I never wanted more 
Than what I knew would make me break
It takes more than little prayers
To save a soul from outta state 

Monday, February 5, 2018

Comfortable In Hell

Someone 
Else
Something 
Else
Sometimes a hand
Is not inclined to help

Nothing
Tells
Dreaming
Sells
Teeming with this
Need that won’t relent

Despise
Inside 
Play the tape
Plan it straight
Poke out your eyes

Partake
Escape
Rule the flies
Fill up the skies
Decide what’s fake

You see it all outside 
Not like you haven’t tried
But likely to reside 
In this same place 

As far as you can say
You see what mouths relay
And only if it pays
Will you make space 

Someone
Else
Something 
Else
Sometimes a hand
Is not required to help

Suffering
Smells
Dreaming
Sells
So wash a lot
Or simply don’t exert

An expert sets the bar
Before the bell

And needing is
A wanting that compels 

A fire feels like it’s heaven 
When it’s hell






Sunday, February 4, 2018

The Winnings

Everything is planned
The waves will all
Ways take
The writing in the sand

Up there on the wall
It hangs, defy
Ying 
Gravity
Alone here after all 

There’s a place I want to be
But it’s lost inside of me
Behind a mirror that I hold
Counting down to when I’m old

Everyone demands 
Your blood to feed 
There needs
To be more than the “And”

Down beneath the wall
We hang, defying logical
That 
Never 
Scream before the fall

Suffocating hands
The winning of a
Simple plan 
That’s all but guaranteed 
To enjoy watching you bleed 

All through the foggy streets
Away and far from all
You want to keep
Unsmiling like you’ve seen
You’re always meant to be 

A place I want to see
When lost inside of me
Inclined to never want it sold
Knowing its worth what I can hold

A hand that keeps me right
And left me underneath a sight
That shines with yellow gold
Recovering the way I always know
One way
To leave
The winnings with the gold

Like one-hundred and nine
Teen strides I can’t define
And won’t resign myself
Away from all that’s sitting on the shelf
I could forget the beasts
And castles 
On a way
Vin to all of those that know
A life is not for sale

Wednesday, January 31, 2018

He Said, She Said

He said, she said
They said, we said
We don’t eat bread
At least not wheat bread

Keep it, smoke it
Feel it, stroke it
Real is feeling
No see through ceiling

He said, she said
He said, she said

He said, she said
He said, she said

He said, she said
Thee said, three said
We’ll keep reading 
Til we believe it

Kick it, beat it
Thick as three bricks
Wicked is as
Stupid speaks it
Stupid speaks it
Stupid speaks it
Stupid speaks it
Stupid speaks it

None, no, nothin, nada
Is real when he speaks 
Ignore the pesky facts and
Just keeps repeating
Speak the crap that you exact
Is what’s needed
And then you’ll see that everything is
Everything is
Everything is
Absolutely every fucking 
Thing in the world is

He said, she said
He said, she said 
He said, she said 
He’s head, she’s bled

He said, she said
He said, she said 
In bred, piss heads
Believe what we’re fed

He said, she said
P.C. upset
He can’t take it
Please fat man save it

He said, she said 
Peace when they’re dead
Eat or eaten
It keeps repeating

He said, she said
He said, she said 
He bled instead
So we can judge it
Judge, judge, judge, judge it


Tuesday, January 23, 2018

Beans and Genes

I'd like you to hear the dreams
Of a grown-ass man with a little bag of beans
He picked up in Vegas back in Sep
The call was made and he lost the bet

Now lying in the comfy mud
Got those repeating beans in his blood 
He wipes all the mucky brown around
Makes his big brown bed without a sound

Beans beans beans
A little bag of genes
Full of different things
Good, bad and ugly and alluring

Genes genes genes
A little bag of beans
Full of distant dreamings
Could be your day or your undoing

Somehow good, a boiling pot 
Even as he burns he says he's not 
But warm brown mud and beans
Are a good recipe for growing dreams

And he still remembers how
He hoped for a brighter, cleaner now
And with more days of sun
There's a thick vine for climbing up upon

Beans beans beans
A little bag of genes
Full of different nothings
Good, bad and ugly and assuring

Genes genes genes
A little bag of beans
Full of distant dreamings
Some quickly dead but some improving 

Tuesday, January 16, 2018

Operator 25

Ask for me
I'm here, see 
Your American girl 

Once from Vera Cruz 
Now here for you 
Out East, be early please 

I see the things 
You're keeping, near 
Every moment of time 

Inside, out 
All about 
No longer even try to hide 

And besides 

I know the look 
That coin you took 
You're the winning kind 

When unsure 
When grey, bored 
I'm right here behind 

2 direct 
Even for a cleptomaniac 
Who lives to rise 

5 more million people 
Turn from the steeple 
All the woolen eyes 

By decree 
Ask for me 
I'm already on the line 

Lonely nights 
Days without sight 
Here waiting for my time 

When you need 
Me and mine 
Every resource 
Couldn't be more kind 
Whether your all 
Or what you leave behind 
I'll still be here 

Operator 25