Precious

Hold me pensively, like a secret between God and soul.

Practice me daily like a language that only you and nature know.

Keep me close like a childhood scar that you have accepted and now cherish.

Never let me go like the memory of each first time.

Clench me tight like hope in a protesters fist.

Clutch me in your grip like arthritis taking hold of an old man’s tired joints.

Transfix me in your forever like we both have the naivety to believe in an eternity.

Fasten me to your mind like a prayer or an affirmation.

You and I know.

Yes, Because you and I know that you’re the only one who knows the words to my song and who’s willing to sing every precious lyric.          

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Trail Weary

You’re still travelling through the travails of my brain flaps,

trying to craft new footprints to my heart.

You have your love mapped out perfectly,

looking for marks and X’s that will reveal a dream.

I told you not to waste trust on me and no tears will revive a drought.

You’re following an empty trail through my mind – Its a cardboard shanty town,

its inhabitants live in voice boxes,

thoughts waiting to become words,

waiting to be communicated.

In the closing credits -(The are no edits)

This paradigm is past its prime
An obsolete design wrongfully allowed to outlast its time
As things get deeper, they become harder to ascertain
The truth becomes white washed like withered plant life beneath the acid rain

Scars keep skin stitched together
Fighting to loosen this noose like neck tie that keeps me tethered
Doubt and disbelief are thieves that rob you of your dreams
Procrastination eludes you into thinking that trying isn’t as easy as it seems

Spine sticks out like the springs of an old tired mattress
If nothing really matters, then mother nature has to be the greatest actress
As days go by, I find love as a skill that gets harder to practice
We’re all audacious enough to believe that we’ll wake up to still find this planet crookedly spinning on its axis

Living in praise of a pantheon of ghosts
The idea of being human being written as hope in every philosophers journals and scattered notes
And every man declares ‘I Am’, while not being able to see how it contradicts the universe as a careless boast
We still wonder why out of all emotional abstraction, hate appears the most?

Gathering Feathers (23 September 2013)

“A person in society is the sum of his labels. Take that away and what do you get?”

“We all whore something out at the end of the day.”

“Well done. It’s getting harder to tell apart the person who you pretend to be and the person you actually are .”

“We’ll make homes out of the giants we’ve slain.”

“Sometimes but not in most cases, freedom is a simple matter of choice, especially if you’re not physically oppressed. All I know is, I walked and did not crumble after my first step. I mean they seemed to believe that I would and they some how convinced each other and me but I took that first step and did not fall under the weight of gravity. By oppression, they were taught to oppress. I realized this and walked away before it was too late. Thank God, I walked before it was too late.”

“Did anyone else know that its International Talk Like A Pirate Day today? And Im not talking about talk like a Pirates supporter after another derby loss.”

“I spend so much time, wishing I could revisit that place and time. Its like an island coasting on a special fragment of my memory.”

“My wings don’t flap right hence why I’ve been flying around in circles. I hope you’re not vain enough to think its because of you.”

“I remember thinking that my boss gesticulates so much when he speaks that he should just cut the middle man out and learn sign language.”

“Everyone’s too busy playing GTA V to realize that the guy who invented Super Mario is dead.”

“Holding on to something only contradicts our being so fly free”

“Its all in my head…”

“Yeah, its all in my head but does that make it less real?”

“Don’t make a cage out of your own mind”

“I give up.”

“Mistaking venus flytraps for roses and lilacs.”

Gathering Feathers (16 September 2013)

“Its a Cardboard shanty town, its inhabitants dwell in voice boxes.”

“Wait no, I think the song should go – my mind is a cardboard shanty town, its inhabitants – words dwell in my voice box.”

“Deep breaths – keep going.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah – blame the world for your shitty disposition. Many have smiled through worse. You’re just weak.”

“A different type of homelessness”

“Don’t you hate dreams where you’re just doing mundane activities like watching T.V? It’s not enough that my waking life ultimately revolves around the mundane but now my dreams rob me of freedom too. Imagine dreaming about studying or working at your dead end job. That’s enough to drive a man postal.”

“Im paranoid, I have to look over my shoulder, have to go over my blind spot, cant tell who’s pretending and who’s not?”

“Don’t worry, you wouldn’t understand, its not in your depth – bigot.”

“Then you found yourself simulating humanity.”

“Poor imitation of a human being. The Japanese are developing robots more authentically human than you.”

“I like to dial manually when I call you so I can feel my heart dance to the key tones of your numbers – is that weird?”

“How did you become such an amazing imposter. I’ve tried but there’s something in the back of my head that keeps telling me that I’m lying, I don’t need to be here and I don’t need to be liked. How do you do it, it must be some evolutionary mechanism that skipped me.”

“Too busy looking for magic beans and silver bullets to put your head down and get some hard work done.”

“You slip, you fall, you get it up. No matter how much it hurts, you get up. Its just pain, a little discomfort – do you know how much pain your mother had to endure to get you into this world? One day does not exist, its just a fools comfort, you may say soon but for those who work, eventually is our declaration. Don’t let them break you, do you know how close to home you were the last time you gave up. Breathe.”