Monday, November 22, 2010

your love

your love
is exactly the kind I
dont need
you're the kind of guy who'd have me
on my knees
beggin please baby please
but I don't go there
for no man, no man
and baby you just need
to understand
that what I'm looking for
is the kinda man
who'll reach out and
drag me back up when I'm feeling down
who'll lift me up so he can
look me in the eye
who's not afraid to see me cry
who's not afraid to make me smile
your love
is not love at all but
his love
is breaking down my walls that I
put up
to keep people like you
away

Monday, November 15, 2010

Summer Feet

I wrote this a while ago, I'm working on making it into a song now :) probably will need some tweaking though...


walk towards me on your summer feet
burned on the blacktop from walking the street
in your itty bitty shorts with the sun in your hair
why wear shoes when you could go bare

look at you with your summer feet
treading on the tar not feeling the heat
squinting a little since the sun's in your eyes
if you stay out late enough you might see it rise


walk on the beach, walk on the tar
walk with me and we'll walk far
walk past the sunset, walk through the night
walk with me, walk into the light

freckles on your face but pink on your shoulders
wear a little makeup so you might look older
eyes as blue as the summer sky
can't forget the day when you said goodbye


never forget when we stood by the lake
counting the waves from a motorboat's wake
my heels in the sand as water teased my toes
i held you close and i wouldn't let go

walk on the beach, walk on the tar
walk with me and we'll walk far
walk past the sunset, walk through the night
walk with me, walk into the light

but you stopped fighting so i loosened my arms
as we sat on the hill surveying the farms
wishing the hay bales to roll down to the sea
and everything would go with them but you and me

you walk away slowly on your summer feet
walk to the music, step on the beat
a goodbye kiss with the last sunset
then you walk away with no regrets

walk on the beach, walk on the tar
walk with me and we'll walk far
walk past the sunset, walk through the night
walk with me, walk into the light

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Vertigo

I'd been on a tredmill
staring out the window
admiring the snowy trees
when suddenly I'm on solid ground
and my legs are
carrying me away
and I'm just not used to
forward motion
after all this time of
staying still
but I think I like
where they're taking me
so I'll keep walking
through the vertigo

Monday, October 25, 2010

Bitter Fruit

do not bite that ruby fruit so soon
leave yourself another year of youth
you needn't feel the weight of this world's gloom
stay your young lips from that bitter truth

let yourself believe another year
that all life is naught but grass and sun
do not expose yourself to the fear
of dying light before the day is done

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

My Precious Collection

So Stern absolutely hated this poem. I'm not a huge fan either, I think it's very cliched, but I think I could salvage it with a little work... Let me know what you think.

I collect sunsets
and snowy days
pretty eyes
and sparkley waves
I collect beauty
I collect grace
I collect the sun
as it lights up your face
I collect rain storms
that shatter the night
white picket fences
and you, holding me tight

So Many People 2.0

Stern didn't like the word "emotion" (and neither did I) so Charles helped me rewrite this one...I like this a lot better than the original.

Feeling like I fit in
until I try to stand out
I am so many people
and I'm only ever one
or two
at a time
which is fine
for a while
until i get restless
and those other mes
are aching to escape
so they rattle and roll
and swell and grow
until the pressure builds
and breaks the walls
that trapped inside
the things I didn't realize
I was trying to hide
until it was too late
and everything is
overwhelmed
with
shit

So Many People

I don't know how I feel about this one...I feel like it's incomplete somehow...

Feeling like I fit in
until I try to stand out
I am so many people
and I'm only ever one
or two at a tiime
which is fine
for a while
until i get restless
and those other mes
are aching to escape
so they rattle and roll
and swell and grow
until the pressure breaks
and releases the emotion
bottled inside
the things I didn't realize
I was trying to hide
until it was too late
and everything is
overwhelmed
with
shit

Sunday, October 17, 2010

Gravity

This one is from this summer, after a conversation with Brian, Gary, and Griffin about how, no matter how hard you work to stay upbeat, things will always come crashing down.

Gravity
pulls us all the same way
down into the earth
feet firmly on the dirt
shoes on solid ground
Gravity
is the only constant
everything that goes up
everyone that grows up
must always come down
Gravity
leads us all the same place
no matter how we bend
in the very end
six feet underground

Saturday, October 16, 2010

The Second Coming

So yeahhh I guess this is a blog... probably going to be mostly poetry, maybe some short stories, because well...that's what I do. I haven't got anything to share yet so I'll start off with one of my favorite poems of all time.
The Second Coming
William Butler Yeats
    Turning and turning in the widening gyre
    The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
    Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
    Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
    The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
    The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
    The best lack all conviction, while the worst
    Are full of passionate intensity.

    Surely some revelation is at hand;
    Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
    The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
    When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
    Troubles my sight: a waste of desert sand;
    A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
    A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
    Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
    Wind shadows of the indignant desert birds.
    The darkness drops again but now I know
    That twenty centuries of stony sleep
    Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
    And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
    Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?