My Writings. My Thoughts.
Turning
// April 1st, 2009 // No Comments » // The Arts, Writing
This second, my second of silence
Uninterrupted by the tension,
This tension of remembering
What’s come before
As I am barely conscious
This blissful, sweet fragility
I’m empty, It’s perfect
Juts melting in my sheets
Just one second, til I roll over
And then I’m turning back again
How did I sleep with the heat in my shoulders
The absent resolve that I’m yearning, I’m craving
Where is the sandman? He stole all my bitterness
And now the wound is fresh again
It’s tearing at my flesh again
I’ll never rest my head again
I’m dreaming, my dreams in
My not so stable mind, but still
I’m moving, I’m feeling
What little I can find until
I hear you, I hear it
The heat it shakes me, burning wakes me
One sweet second more
Try not to think
Don’t blink
Just sink
Don’t think
It’s gone
It’s been and gone
I’m moving, I’m turning
There’s only so much apprehension
Only, one second
Before I change my mind, but still
This second, my second
of silence, you’ve stolen it
And I won’t let you run this time
I won’t keep holding on
I swear to God this has to end
Why can’t I sleep in peace
And wake the same
For more than just one second
When you’re mine
For someone who is always on my feet
You keep me on my toes
These memories of rolling down hills
As we capture the moments where everything’s fine
For a time
Til I’m turning again, with this fear in my head
That today is the day where the seconds roll by
And I’m losing my mind
And we’re wasting our time
This second, my second of silence
The longest second I’ve had to endure
Smack and Pills
// April 1st, 2009 // No Comments » // Writing
Jack and Jill have had their fill
of water and brown paper
They’ve sung the song, the vinegars gone
And wounds are healing later
So let’s survey the damage
As we light the film on fire
Feign a memory and
Hang it on the wall
We’re still coming unstuck
Maybe this is all you see
But with any luck
I can put your feet back in this
Distant memory
We’ll feed the fire and clap our hands
Climb the trees that were too high
I’ll laugh as the pot goes to your head
And we steal the sticks that made us cry
Up the hill went Jack and Jill
And water turned to wine until
They both got stuck and ran a mock
And Jill is getting tired
Maybe the vinegar was too sour
And the brown paper too rough
But Jill is trying
While Jack is dying
Nothing is enough
It’s never enough
Jack made rhymes to pass the time
That Jill could only dream
And now he’s there
She’s wondering where
Her tumble could have been
Jack takes a fall, but not at all
Without Jill close behind him
But as he goes, she always knows
That Jewels is soon to find him
Jack and Jill were fine until
Such pretty Jewels could blind him