Saturday, September 15, 2012


She's like a gunfight by candlelight,
Just can't get her aim right,
The bright muzzle flashes in the night are ruining her eyesight,
Her heart succumbed to frostbite,
Turned it black as midnight,
So she keeps it locked up tight away from the sunlight,
The chill of the world stole her warmth and kindness,
Can't tell enemies from friends in this night-blindness,
She tears friends apart in bouts of fear,
Holds poison to her heart and calls it dear,
A song is the only language she can understand,
But sorrow sings a sweet tune while holding out its hand,
She's stubborn to a point that's bad for her health,
Doesn't take advice unless she's thought of it herself,
I can't save her because I'm the same,
Hold my pride too high to let others lay claim,
So I keep my distance and watch her troubles grow,
Wait for the instance she allows her heart to show,
I'll see if it resembles the one I used to know,
But my frostbitten queen may have thawed long ago,
Its been too long since I've peered through the snow,
I had no way to know that my own cold heart would thaw so slow.

Friday, July 20, 2012

Drowning Fool

Wake up on the floor,
Wash off the filth,
But can't rinse off the shame,
A twitch in the spine,
A pain in the back,
From this monkey he just cant tame,
Looking for a pearl,
A pearl of wisdom,
Formed from all this sand,
But the feelings rush out,
Roar like a river,
In a language he can't understand,
Go for high ground,
Climb up a mountain,
Just to escape the flood,
Tumble back down,
Dragging his knees,
Until they're covered in blood,
The wading fool,
Puts on his red nose,
Oh what a funny clown,
The paint on his face,
smears so comically,
As he struggles not to drown,
Grab at a raft,
To stay above water,
In the shape of a white pill,
On board is a man,
Who can speak to rivers,
He tutors the fool in the skill,
The water lowers,
To where he can stand,
Leave his raft behind,
The fool asks the river,
Why it's so angry,
Always flooding his mind,
"you dam me up tight,
and the water builds,
instead of letting it flow,
Dulling your mind,
With liquid courage,
Just to put on a show,
Do you think you can,
Just feel nothing,
With such a big heart?
Dancing on tables,
With your belled hat,
While your soul is falling apart?
You're not a clown,
You never will be,
That's just how you like to play,
You can bottle me up,
Pretend I'm not here,
But I'll flood you again someday."

Monday, February 6, 2012

Bathroom Scratchings.

So I came across a little something carved into a bathroom stall.

It is a short conversation between two people that goes like this:

"Fuck the world."

"You need help!"

"Fuck you the world needs help."

Tuesday, January 3, 2012


I wrote a little something for the passing of the NDAA by the sneak-thieves we residents of the United States call our leaders.


Our rights in tatters,

Our freedom vanished,

Where no vote matters,

With free speech is banished,

Now allowed to detain,

Torture and beat,

To make us refrain,

From taking the street,

The land of the free,

The home of the brave,

Gives us degrees,

To line our graves,

What is the point,

When you can't find a job,

And we only appoint,

Politicians who rob,

Sneak with their bills,

And their souls so black,

Getting their thrills,

Sticking knives in our back,

Now every blue collar,

Has a back dyed red,

As they take every dollar,

Every dime 'til you're dead