1/15/15

its cold outside of my soul

but if i cant feel it am i under

the sun's control?

maybe rays are reins of unrequited love

the days are gardens of ripe tomatoes

but see those alcohol bottles he just stained those

and maybe ill run back into jewel and abstain from

being a thief

only guilty of stealing

you, like plants

 so i hope you can turn a new leaf in being

with me 

do you see what im seeing

but the best part is i know

because you are the be in my being

the meadows are shady but even the people are

shadier than the darkest corner of the sun's embrace

she looked like she was ready for harvest

amid a field of cacti

she was a desert flower

catcher-in-the-rye, rarefied, samurai

her freckles are addictive

stupefied, dare-i-die, there i die

i see you with another guy i'd rather die

i hope he could hold you as close as i do

but i know that's impossible

no one has my crystal ball

they can't hold you as close as i do

and suddenly 

it wasen't that the darkness wasen't present

it's that her presence presented an opportunity

to be more 

and in the farmer's calloused hands

she would become something he would adore

12/20/13

piercing in his eyes
memory still fresh in his mind
like the clouds in the sky
his breathe exhales mist
his soul at that moment ceases and desists
like the copyright notices that exist
his thoughts persist, does she exist?
his thoughts too real to be dismissed
his thoughts are kissed, in bliss
he thinks
this
is
it

change from a kid but I kid
cause the change that I did
was the change done by her
the change was Napoleon
she was the French Revolution
to my evolution
She was the solution
to my arithmetic

I was
suspended animation,
cryogenically preserved,
no chance of resuscitation
hypothermic
like a dead corpse in the snow

I am now both
careful deliberation
suspected fugitive
on the run to my destination
my destination
is the space station
with my articulation
I will bring her with me

I am now
a trained killer
deadliest sharpshooter
I can now kill a deer
with my peashooter
but it's not actually a peashooter
it's just my computer but still

I'm still
with all of my composure
a very quick time exposure
A shutter on the camera's lense
A snapchat in a sea of snapchats
The banger that goes rata-tata-tat
With that, I'm the guy that's still silly like,
 I'd hit that,
Still very often a brat
But it's all okay because
I am a man
With his footprint in the snow
in the world
And for that I thank you

I've done some ridiculous shit in my time, some of it failed, some of it succeeded but all of it has defined me. Demagogues, valedictorians, and English teachers (want you to) all start speeches like this. You know why I can be pretentious? Because no one will read this. In fact go away, don't dare read any further. My soul has uprooted me like streaks on my palm, once I sought out a palm reader but I realized I sought out the shade of a palm tree cause I'm pale from weathering but the weather has me feeling a redness hot like coals cause I'm red from sunburn or the redness of the giant that the sun will evolve to. Like some sort of concoction of sweat I stand on the precipice but precipitate the discussion and after all this, a mouthful, we're still talking about the weather, and if we began talking about the weather with it as a conversational topic with it we'll finish. It's about reducing a person to an object, and then taking that object and reducing it to the first dimension, so that it can't walk across the page. I can't talk to people. So I'll say it's quite warm out and what a nice day because it is easy and I'm comfortable. I think I've found a way for us to stop time and all we have to do is press some buttons and in the spaces, in the curves we find our moves. We were taught that repetition was valued in our words, but as we do our work, what does repetition do for our souls. Starting sweeping sentences the same way so that I can connect to you, so I'll omit the pronouns so that we can sweep away the pretenses. Holy shit. How long has this paragraph gone on for. Where is his point? And yet you're still here, some of you. Yet I think we're starting to feel the strain. Collectively.