I've been waitin' all day
For a journey's end
For our broken roads to mend
Lyin' on my hammock,
I'll be waitin' always
Getting Back to Never NeverlandI can feel the warmth lick my skin
Little balls of sunlight caught in my eyelashes
The smell is sweet and stale as time
Leaves skitter like insects across the dry pavement;
The sun sinks ‘neath the horizon.
A beaming moon chases it west and out of sight
The old man smiles his toothless grin
And stars like his laugh echo in the blackened sky
When I sleep I can feel it all
leaving me like the sun in such demanding haste;
Now I am as old as the moon,
Toothless but not laughing as I chase the sun west.
That sun’ll hide and hide and hide.
I’ll chase the sun until I’m colder than the night,
Till I’m stone dead and the sun
is further from me than I could possibly dream.
The Creamy Dream of Sadhir AkeemThey’ve got us sailin through the clouds and America is proud
Engines roarin loud, drownin out the world o’ sound
Crowdin round the plaid couch, watch impossibilities found
This is when we found out, innovation is never bound
We’re all king and queen clowns wearin round, jeweled crowns
Plowin at the ground until the Earth’s no longer round
Take a look round the town you founded, see the dirt’s no longer brown
And we’re wearin sad frowns and wearin gowns from mad cows
Make a bout for a loud row, yellin out sour nouns
Take the flower like it’s ours and build a house for the powers
Make cowards out to be stout, oust the worms in their bowels
Neath the towel where world grew proud of its power there’s a rope unwound
Now beneath the sweat of your brow, the only word renown is a pronoun
And we’re makin cowards out to be stout, oust the worms in their bowels
The WayfareI trod broad hill littered with skyward trees
Beyond which lied the roiling, raging sea
There was naught that I could not see
For in my heart a wayfarer did sleep
Until upon the day the night did creep
Where stars had glittered in their depths so deep
And a lust for the world awoke in him
So he fared the world and sailed on its brim
Flew under the light, be that bright or dim
And I was he, and we gazed upon the stars
We saw the endless ocean high and far
In all the world our way could not be barred
That was until I woke from my slumber
Yet I knew that when I felt a shudder
Like great waves my sheets did pull me under
The Winking HeavensNever forget that which follows the sun's depart
For they follow as well your sleep and the beat of your heart
Like glistening eyes may follow you and keep you sound
They make your night living as day and ensure the earth is round
Take them with you wherever it is you may go
For they will always bring company when all lights seem low
Let them make your wishes true and real as the moon
Such a wish may bring the world to behold its salvation soon
Yet never forget what importance forever lies in day
For always may you remember that our sun is a star against dismay
A Good Night's Sleep A Good Night's Sleep
Jack finally laid the pencil down. An entire night's worth of sketching, and nothing to show for it. Dozens of lines and characters lay sprawled across the sheet of paper, dancing either impassively or violently. They all trailed off into different sheets, most of which were piled into the bin. The metal bin was full, balls of sheets bouncing off the top of its pile, and the floor littered with the rest of the trashed sketches. The desk careened to one side, near to subside. It was a wonder that it had not collapsed yet, and even though it seemed clear a new desk should be bought, Jack refused. Procrastination was his best friend, something which he depended entirely. That showed when it came to his art. As of late, very few finished pieces could be seen in his portfolio. Otherwise, works-in-progress lied about the room in constant slumber.
The Lily both Dying and LivingWhat makest thee dream?
Art thy worlds not spawned of them?
What hast been wrought of thy realms,
Whilst thou art beset?
Whilst thou rot in thy watery grave,
Hell bringest thy harrowing
Or is it not this that thou hast dreamt of?
Is it that thy heaven shinest upon thy face,
Bringest light for thy dreaming shrine?
Nay, not one be so
Aye, for both be so indeed
For thy dream makest thee bleed
Yet makest thy tourniquet
And bringest a lily both dying and living
Alas! Thy hellish realms come
And those of rapture blighted,
For thou art overcome by thy fears
Lo! Pay not heed of these
For what wroughtest these is but a sojourn
Lo! Thou may sodden these realms with heaven and awe
And thou may wake from thy slumber
Yet dismay not of what dream comest on the morrow
Out from the Gray EveningWhile morning pushed me drearily into noon, I passed the smallest window of my house several times before finally stopping to observe what lied beyond it. I had done this from time to time for weeks, perhaps too often: standing before the smallest window, staring into the same spot though the slouching tree-limbs; the very spot that caught my eye each time, the spot that had no concrete form or obvious potency. There was no reason why I would have to gaze into it, whatever it had been. I knew no other feeling it gave me but curiousness, be that good or bad. And with each day passing, my curiosity grew. It had begun to form an itch that eventually sprouted a tumor. I ached.
Yet I couldn't know what I ached for. Was it to know what it was that stared back at me? Or to know what intentions that would ensue these encounters?
Still I waited. Perhaps I could have been building up to something, an apex of my dull life, something to give the least form of livelihood for which I long yearned. D
It's OkayIt's okay to be sad.
It's okay to be mad.
It's okay to cry,
To not have the strength to try.
Sometimes people just need to
Let it all out,
Scream and shout,
And that's okay.
Admitting something's wrong
Doesn't take your strength away.
Ask for help
If you need it.
Don't feel weak
Just because you
Enough to move mountains.
Crying is good.
If you didn't cry
Just bottle it up
Until you burst.
You don't even
Need a reason
Just have a good cry.
Take a long bath
And watch a movie
That makes you laugh.
Bake a cake
Just for the sake
Of making something.
Lay in bed
Until the bad thoughts
Leave your head.
Just sit back and relax.
Because it's okay
To not be okay,
And to take a day
Just for you.
Words Are Powerful ThingsYou’re so angry
You let words swarm up inside.
Screaming to get out.
They yell and shout.
They sit there,
Turning into horrid things that should never be even whispered,
In the softest tone.
You get so angry
Cause you’re so afraid.
Like so many other people
You let your fear burst into rage.
The monstrous words inside of you
Refuse to remain in their cages.
You let those words escape your lips,
All of the sudden you feel like your words have killed someone.
As you see their face.
Words are suddenly bullets.
They’ve pierced your victim’s heart.
Fragments of a once pretty, friendship scatter on the floor.
The pieces so broken, I doubt you could find all of the shards to make it whole again.
There’s a slamming of a door.
Whether that be real,
Or just a metaphor.
To say you’ve been locked out,
From this once dear friend of yours.
I hope one day.
You’ll find better words
To form a key.
So you can find your way back to them.
untitledthere are a thousand
unwritten love letters in your eyes
now I keep thinking about
and the color green
all I know is that
my skull's been
warriors traversing well worn paths
boots leaving tracks across
chests and necks
and it's comfortable
it's not like drowning
more like slowly lowering
into hot bathwater
and we are just skin and cosmos
bodies and words
our tongues landlocked
we are adrift in
our own little sea
we've plucked our wings
and now we can't fly
tell me the truth
that the sky's overrated
I'd rather be with you
on the ground
or buried beneath it
skeletons entwined truthfully
I've always thought heaven was
a pretty sort of lie
but I've read a book or two
or people's idea of it
and I disagree with myself
popping thought balloons
on the idea that heaven
is in the way your eyes
fold origami swans when you smile
that shitty laugh
that hollow above your heart
like your chest's caving i
I am LostMy thoughts are orcas
Trapped in bathtubs.
Within microcosms -
Stuck, glued tight,
Melting like Dali's clock,
In a cock fight
With my conscience.
Sometimes I forget
All that regret
Burning through -
A pain so forever
That I hardly ever
Feel it anymore.
A cut so deep and quick
That it stops -
Time is static -
Before it bleeds.
Fluttering in the wind.
So much to see.
My heart is vacant,
My lungs made of lead
And both are my enemies
Because I'd rather be dead.
But no I wouldn't.
I'm fake, made of a paper -
A corporate rock whore -
And I don't know
What I stand for.
But maybe I don't have to
Stand for anything -
A word without a definition
Still leaves a mark
On pure paper.
A meaningless spark
Can still become a fire.
A tickle of love
Can still become desire.
Happy Songs on the RadioI don't write about happy things.
I don't listen to songs about romance.
I can't feel what the artist is singing so passionately about.
The longing to know what it's like makes me want to scream and shout.
The way people write and lace words together,
About how happy and perfect they see the world.
Has always been a stranger to me.
I wish I could see,
The way you did.
I really do.
I wish I could feel the same way as you.
To be able to hear the lyrics,
'I love you'
And picture someone to match those three words.
I wish I could hear these songs,
About how everything is perfect.
Absolutely nothing is wrong.
But I can't.
I hear those songs and I feel empty.
Because I can't feel what they're saying.
And I keep listening,
But I am just wasting my time
Trying but failing to relate.
When I hear the songs on the radio.
They make me squirm in my seat.
I feel happy but sad.
Something so bitter sweet.
Because part of me feels so happy for the person.
Who sings so happily.
But another, darker half.
novelthere’s tea you still need to drink.
you left it on the counter again, because you’re
always forgetting where you put it.
it’s probably cold by now, but
it’s there for whenever you’re ready.
here’s a blanket to lose yourself in.
you don’t have to give it back.
here’s another book i think
will make you cry if i ever find the courage
to give it to you. i’ve underlined every
line that made me want to scream, that made me
want to rip out my hair and destroy everything
beautiful about myself, that made me want to
drive across a desert in the middle of the night,
that made me fall in love with everything wonderful
the universe has left to give me.
i can’t find the words to tell you what it’s about.
i guess it’s about growing up and finding love
but it’s also about figuring out how to exist comfortably
and it’s about people who are good and people who
are not always good and the things they do and the worlds t