April 2009
2 posts
I pay no attention to moistness retention and am convinced you’ll wind up in my collection.
Cancel the channel, do not subject me to these wall to wall panels. I am complete and melting in my own heat; Stepping up but watching both feet.
December 2008
4 posts
Deep within the confines of the furry beast I wander.
Listen listen hear the specials make sure you dont end in hell is horrible a place looks away but sees my face i cant grieve for lonely moments caught up in the things im showing
Fucked and stuck in the middle time is short but its not little and I have no concern because my sky always burns. Sun like fire ignite the sky in the hopes the mirrors smolder and the smoke flies.
I spin till I’m deep in withdrawl to within and i win lost in my own skin watchin my time slim ever nearing its end and i seek knowing a way out besides where im going
September 2008
7 posts
vengance cups my ear and i sit possesed while staring at a lumbering shadow. i am its imminent demise.
look listen and learn, behind the match lies the burn, ignore the wheel but watch the turn. i had an alibi, it was delicious.
the wondrous gaze of a nimble tree anchors me in a forbidden night haunted by the remnant light of a past star in my present sky
“whilst watching the rapidly fading yet glowing face of a dying angel a stray and eloquent feather caught my eye so i became distracted. later that evening, i missed american idol” - Theodore Roosevelt
if my dog could walk itself, it wouldnt need a leash.
Crying is my body’s failed attempts to drown
I watch the sun of truth set over the mountain of lies that is my life, and as the last ray of light is lost, I find myself in the dark, running from the curious paws of the local wolf
August 2008
6 posts
moisture, a key ingredient in precipitation, brings about the rains which wash away my life. the forming puddle, a splash imminent, gathers giving me something to see myself in besides the future
Life’s emptiness is the other part of my half full cup
Life’s emptiness is the other part of my half full cup.
Life’s emptiness is the other half of my cup.
Life’s emptiness fills the other half of my cup.
As it relates to babies, sexual aerodynamics are of no consequence.
July 2008
47 posts
excuses are the weak willed lies of the apathetic.
be the man or end up working for him.
carry a tune or carry some water
necessary evils over unnecessary real
clouds are kites are waves as the sky breaks against my life
glasses are the fine tune accomplishments of a civilized deviant
wrinkles are the worn edges of a sturdy soul
tickets are the paper trail of a time had
Rain is the encouraged water of a populated gravity
flavor is foods explanation for its presence in your mouth
future is the apathetic vision of the infinite
excuses are the confused lies of the distracted
external sunshine of the thoughtless spine
Spring is the ample bosom of a forgotten winter
fall is summer’s kiss on the fleeting forehead of a nearing winter
Wet gets everywhere
love is the wandering emotion of a path set free
vision is the tumescent light falling off the moment and into my eyes
tragedy is the ripple off a splashing tear in a puddle of lies
wisdom is the weary benevolent lie of the aging
Kaleidescopes destroy single sighted descriptions of my already blurry vision and I encompass the pompous manners of my media planner with the abrasive cleanliness of an ajax riddled danny tanner.
Chances are the glances are an instant caught mirage at a coincidental distance, where you can’t tell the difference.
I sit documenting the errant forthcoming of the trial hour…
yo
sup
I am the fall of shame off the hall of fame living a life so tame running around all the same
Can you succumb to the streetly scenario of our second passions? the struggle hangs like the moisture on your deepening glass
Can you see the sail filling with the forgotten words of the risen ghost?
The foxy meadow rolls passed the hills of infusion and I notice a bakery wafting in the near distance. My pencil takes to dancing dirty like mad.
I flame away the welted max of a candle melting the inevitable wax of the nostalgic.
“You’ve caught me again” the general spoke to his brigade, the toast burning by now and the breakfast hour slowly coming to a soft resolve.