1up

The firecracker 

That keeps exploding in your hand, 

When do you learn your lesson, 

How many fingers do you need to loose… 

But the chance, 

I’ll hunt until my legs drop off, 

I’ll chase my tail, 

Chew my own foot, 

But I 

Will 

Not 

Rest. 

 

If she is out there, 

I will find her or fall 

Marching in that direction. 

 

The feeling of betrayal settles into the bones, 

The Judas kiss. 

No good choices; 

The life of Misery or the Life of Longing. 

One holds the promise of hope, 

A false one but its something. 

 

Blindly walking into the darkness 

The good bits have long been whittled away. 

 

What is tomorrow 

But yesterday repeated 

Again and again. 

 

I’m the ox under the yoke, 

Work harder, 

Work harder 

Until your rewarded with the glue factory. 

 

The house fire left to burn, 

No fire engines 

Just the occasional spectator 

Come roast marshmallows 

Over the corpses. 

 

She didn’t fear surgical bites 

From the monsters locked in the attic, 

Stilled them with a touch, 

Made them eat from her hand. 

 

They never left, 

Only hid in the deep dark, 

The friends you never wanted, 

Always ready to bite the hand that feeds. 

 

My place in line never got cold, 

My shadow was holding it for me, 

Back to the beginning, 

Life goes forever forward but it also moves in seasons, 

Like no fall is the just the same as the one that proceeded it, 

It is still fall. 

If only my seasons could be counted on the calendar 

I would know when winter would end and spring could begin. 

 

The watched pot never boils 

But we never learned how to control the flame; 

To much heat burns from within. 

 

Why do you bleed from me so slowly, 

I knew this was my destiny, 

I don’t win the lottery when I play 

Only with someone else’s ticket. 

 

Her living dead girl stories broke my insides, 

You can’t fight the unseen 

So you learn to live with defeat. 

 

I put all my eggs in one basket 

They broke so I asked to borrow yours. 

 

You didn’t like my bloody nose, 

You let my madness lead me to the door, 

Without a goodbye, 

Leave the scoundrel to himself, 

Let the scruffy nerf herder wannabe find himself somewhere else.

 

If the camera were reversed 

I probably would have made all the same moves, 

Checkmate never comes from the queen 

Its always ‘en passant’; 

Two unique reflections looking into each other, 

Oftern only crack the mirror, 

Spider webbing until nothings left to see. 

 

You loose the reflection of infinity, 

You loose the whispers of the pleasant tomorrows, 

You loose the thoughts warmed unbroken days stretching into the horizon. 

Back to the cold longing 

The slow hunt that only ends in complete surrender. 

 

Sorry Mario your Princess is in another Castle! 

In the Out Door

Crawl from one window to the next

Find no shelter only another windowpane to pear through

Looking out to the accepting world

Where your jagged edges never sit comfortably.

 

Like doc browns DeLorean

When I was with her all this garbage turned into magic.

 

I like to let myself believe

That even lightning can strike twice,

That ends open possibilities of new beginnings,

A new chapter can always be written;

But i return to old habits,

Everything old is new once more.

 

Remember the rule;

Identify that there is a problem,

Find a solution to the problem,

Implement the solution,

If unsuccessful return to step two.

 

Works on everything by myself,

I get caught in the feedback loop

Its high-pitched squeal resting in the back of my ear.

 

A life of distrust leaves the mind scrambled,

The phone with the broken screen

It gives you the half glimpse of what you seek

Hidden beneath its broken data stream.

 

What's left when you sunder the wheel,

Left sitting with its shattered pieces;

Stuck no longer to turn,

Eat the cold wind and rain,

Hide your head from the sun;

There is no what comes after,

When there was no before.

 

Instead turn your eyes toward fate,

Spin the wheel

Let it rest where it may;

A gambler with a deep seeded addiction,

Let it spin again and again

Until your pockets are empty,

And it has taken the shirt off your back.

 

Spin once more

At the price of your soul,

Look to avoid the inevitable,

Make the trade

Leave again with nothing.

 

They come for the full show

They never stay when presented with the half-man,

Whose numb tongue has left him mute,

His eyes only see glimpses of the tomorrow that will never come.

 

You have only traded one prison for another,

Snap on the golden fetters from Plato’s cave;

There are no doors left,

Except for the ones we fashion for ourselves.

Pieces

I never live up to expectations,

the truth is always harsher than the fiction.

What I want to say ends up hanging in the back of my head

stalling all the other words as they seek an exit.

 

I wish I could tell what people want of me.

I am always lacking as I grasp for words that aren’t there

with each step taking me in the wrong direction.

 

What small piece illudes me,

what can’t I see what everyone around me seems to see so clearly.

 

Shouldn’t I be cheering for myself when friends and family cheer for me,

I don’t want a single use,

disposable,

let’s see what comes.

 

I reject that,

I only search for a corner stone

no ordinary rock can fill its void.

 

Shouldn’t I be content with what I’ve had,

it was a larger portion than most,

but I only want more.

 

I’ve been left craving

it’s the same craving I had before I ever sat down

just stronger this time around.

 

Before it was the undiscovered country

now it has become the lost land

Its left me famished for its lush fruit once more.

 

What makes you the villain,

is knowing your crocked hand can’t direct you toward your goal;

so instead of seeking voyage on another vessel

you force the helm and crack the wheel.

 

I fed off you like the undead,

used your kindness like a bridge

just to throw my garbage at your feet

once crossed

I burnt them down

leaving you on the other side.

 

Only the fool believes there is an end to this steady stream,

the valve only opens one way,

let the torrent continue,

take it all inside,

use the broken pieces to build a new puzzle,

learn to sew a new tapestry,

take the time to teach yourself

that you become what you destroy;

the mirror can’t reflect the past,

each day you are trapped with yourself,

pantomiming the actions of yesterday

again and again

waiting for the new result.

 

I would rather place the blade in your hand

turn my back to you

then wait to feel its bite,

its quicker that way;

whatever doesn’t kill you

can only make you stronger.

 

I have no fear of my weakness;

I dump it here in this pit

To take away its strength over me,

the words beat out like the dust on an old dirty blanket

it covers the room in its thick fog

choking those who chose to linger.

Cold Porridge

Like some perverted flasher in a big City Park,

I exposed too much too fast;

no one really wants the truth

only seeking their perception of what they belive it is.

 

Creating its endless cycle,

building up sandcastles

then smashing them

 only to start again,

lead once more by broken perception

into the blistering darkness.

 

With no lantern to guide your way

you fumble in the dark

having finally proved life’s thesis,

it has no second chances,

there is no script; instead,

we are all forced to figure it out on our own.

 

Nothing more than a nesting doll

where each face hides the pain for the next,

pull each off until you reach the bone.

 

No subtle deception left to hide within,

just another rainy night

waiting for the promise of a new day.

 

Would it have been better if I had meted out my mind in smaller bites;

but would that even be true

when I am all or nothing…

 

maybe its wrong but I would rather know up front,

I need someone

that will not back down

from the garbage that’s piled upon my soul,

because I would not back down from yours.

 

All I know

is I can only settle

for the kind drives up the pace of your heart

on the prospect of the next meeting,

a love that never needs a crutch but

always runs sided by side,

one without sharp edges

just that gentle embrace

which blends two souls into one.

 

Last Sunday I met the ghost of Christmas past,

but she never saw me as anything more than second best.

I hated that feeling

either intentional or self-inflected

it was where I laid the first bricks of my cracked perception,

that any moon could be blue and

every chance was just over the horizon,

but perhaps its just the fool who starves himself

waiting for a feast that will never come

when he could learn to deceive himself and

turn to porridge instead.

 

I could just as easily sprout wings and fly;

I only know how to move in one direction,

and I only have two speeds.

Metropolis/Looking Glass

Smash the game, 

Change the rules, 

Start over to a new tune, 

Follow no drummer. 

You can’t have Superman 

Without Lois Lane; 

He spun the world backwards for her. 

When it’s meant to be 

You fit like a lock and a key, 

Stumbles are meaningless, 

You’re pulled together 

Like a magnet, 

Locked together 

In perpetual attraction. 

Mundane dreams 

Expose the flawed mating dance 

With no promises of anything more than 

Hard work and determination 

To paint the dreams with color. 

I seek an even playing field 

Where no one stands above and you kneel at each other’s feet. 

Our view controls our perception, 

Our perception drives our actions; 

When your view is flawed 

You will only choose 

The wrong door 

No amount of time 

Or pondering can change that. 

Instead, 

You must find the root, 

Cut it free, 

Free yourself from its burden; 

Even if you find it wraps around the heart 

It can’t be left to fester, 

Poison only feeds itself. 

In the end we are all our own physician and must heal ourselves. 

4

If it’s not true why bother; what’s the point of moving together in two separate directions, lost energy can never be recaptured.

3

If you are not accepted for who you are then you are not really wanted.

Hades

I try so hard to shove it down

Its smile cracks trough at the edges

That wicked maniacal corner

That wants it all to come down,

The plotter,

The schemer

It lurks down in the deep dark

Always waiting for its next opportunity to take the helm.

 

Answers first taking all the credit

None of the shame,

Evaporate as soon as you appear.

 

You need a shorter chain,

Cerberus barks fill my ears

I only want to sleep

Let the pillow cresses my head

Merrily, merrily ride my boat,

But life is not a dream

Direction is forged not given,

Ease is only for the cradle or the grave

The in-between is filled with vacant soil

Waiting for planting.

Be careful what you plant

For every seed will grow;

All the chickens will come home to roost.

 

In the end you must learn to live with yourself,

Accept who you are,

Learn again from failure,

Look yourself squarely in the eye once more.

2

You will know it's right when everything you do doesn’t feel wrong.

Fear is the Mind-Killer

 “I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.” Bene Gesserit teaching, Dune

 

1

 If my crimes are I’ve loved too deeply and been too honest, if those aren’t qualities sought for then so be it, this is the hill I will die on. I prefer loneliness over the bullshit, I’ll take solitude instead of uncertainty, let isolation sink back in and turn my back to reality.

I’m not Able, I’m just Cain

 Your such a special human, 

Your going make someone very lucky… 

Hoisted by my on petard, 

I come with empty hands and offer nothing in return. 

Used up, run down; 

An empty house 

With it’s best years trailing in the rear view mirror. 

Darkness longs for warmth from time to time, 

But like Icarus the fall comes for those who glide to close to the light. 

What never came to be, 

Now feeds my muse; 

She revels in my discomfort, 

Wallowing in my pain 

Always keeping the ink in my pen full. 

If you have a lick of wisdom, 

You have never looked back 

And your working to avoid me, 

I always end up planting the seeds for my own destruction. 

Were it possible 

I would grab that useless weak soft underbelly I carry, 

The part that squeals and barks 

As it fights with logic and reason 

Until it’s beaten back 

Left to whimper in the corner. 

My hands would clasp tight around its throat 

I would hold its eye 

As I crushed out the life within. 

Instead when presented again 

The same old story 

Once again it will crawl from its dark corner

Slither up the back again 

Triumphantly place on its saddle once more. 

Let the gibberish flow, 

Line after useless line; 

Like bad gas, 

Its better out than in. 

Holler into the darkness, 

Beat your chest at the driving rain; 

Nothing changes 

Empty words 

From an empty head. 

Like the neglected garden 

Left to grow wild, 

No longer kept up 

It slowly returns to its baser state; 

Where the weeds now choke the flowers 

The once pleasant aroma was traded with the sour bile 

That comes up from the stomach 

Fills both the nose and throat with its acid and copper tinge. 

You bite back the vomit, 

Keep it in and burn yourself 

Or release it and put flame any that grace your path. 

Eat the lesser evil, 

Least the wound is only self-inflected, 

A private seppuku 

Where you can use your own organs 

To tell you the future.