Care Tonight

You had kind eyes
The ones that held the love and wisdom to teach a boy
Teach him that there is love everywhere
Even when he doesn't feel it
And when he cries
He could always turn to see that someone is there

I like those eyes

You have red eyes
The ones that scream in pain while tears blister
Your voice trembles over the dinner table
As you scratch your way back to bed
Because everything hurts you now

I miss your eyes

You have everything
And I hate myself for not even realizing that someday
You won't be there to smile with me

And that someday could be tomorrow


I'm not ready to stop smiling

Stoplight Roulette

I'll the know the world is ending
When I hear your voice in the radio
Emitting the lies that I once held so dear to my heart
Transmitting the words that deteriorate us

I'll gamble my life
With the barrel of a revolver in my mouth
Before I give it to you again

Drown

There is something romantic about not breathing
Unconscious intimacy dwelling on the dark side of dreams
As close to understanding what little we know as we will get
As truth and shallow worlds and hydrogen and oxygen wave over me

I want to see the blue turn into black
Send my nightmares and hopes to the bottom of the sea
Wash away what writings I tend to leave on the surface
And scrape the etchings of time away from the charred remains of renovation

I want to stop breathing
Stop the warm, consistent flow to know why I was brought here
Not have the burden of the sensation of weight of any sort among me
But just drifting down into the ocean, clear and black in harmony

Shared Documents

My eyes turn back
Search the inner electric synapses of my brain
Find out the plug is short circuiting my hardware
Stinging pulsation of volts shock my memory

Push to remember

I used to worship God
I taught myself how to write out of hate for the pencil grip
I had a multitude of imaginary friends that consistently moved away
I never lost a football game against myself in the backyard
I planted the maple tree at the corner of the fence

The maple tree is still there, but it is not mine
The backyard I used to conquer is now someone else's stadium
The friends have moved away and are in imaginary high school
The handwriting is sloppy and uneven because of the incorrect finger placement
And I find nothing in the word of God

Declaration of War

I want you to scream insecurities
Beg and plead to hear the words we once portrayed on canvas
Because one day, these words will go to waste
Buried before our corpses touch the casket
My last breath is less anticipated than my last word

One day, desolate deserts of despair will become the majority of the Earth
As our water decays and fades away into the ozone
Turn to toxins and venom after the contamination from my stabbing words
And rain hate all over the city you are in
So that not only will you be consumed in the rapture of regret
But you will watch the buildings you touched be purged of your recollection

I hope you feel as every memory burns and dissipates into nothing
Not even air
As that is still sustainable through the art of breathing
I hope the rain drowns and suffocates you
So that you will black out in the collapsing scene of this film
And wake up in the next scene in the credits
Far away from the public view
And be forced to watch the words escape the page
And watch you scrape at the screen to take them back

I want you to be corroded by the edge of my declaration of war
Let the wishes of the words and verbs take you away
As those are all we have left to fight our battles with

Challenge Her

The world is going down
Sinking into the black oblivion of the universe
Magnitude outplays longitude
Can you read our depth by the constellations?
How deep are we in?
When will we meet again?
When will we hit the dense bottom of the founding of life itself?
If cities on Earth are burning
Who is out there to keep us turning?
Suddenly nothing matters
The history we have made
The progress compiled
So minuscule in the grand scheme
Never have the stars looked so big
We can see the breath pulsate and resonate off of the light
The steel skeletons of the corporations are nothing now but dust
Even through the end, survival is not a must
Predestination makes no sense
We are destined to die

Unlocked

Low key
Slowly
Lead fills me up to my forehead
Help me from falling
Can't keep it up
I'll end up asleep on the floor

Don't help me
Leave me here
I can do it on my own
I swear
No need to kneel

You're A Balloon Booth

On the contrary
You are quite the carnival game
As we waste what we value
At your low funded and deserved gain
You seem to know how to play your own stage
Pop our wishes, hopes, and dreams
Knock down our smiles and self esteem
You are a puddle of misconstrued ligaments
Not much else seems to hold you together
We pay for you to have your way
Put down the mic that is your name
And leave us to play our game
And God forbid you see us smile
As this is war
Metal piercing the shallow, scattered hearts on the board
If for any reason it is your value on the mark
Drop the darts and the money and run
Turn away empty handed
Prizes are for winners only
And you make sure to make us feel the latter

Modern Motive

Contemporary is my new favorite word
It surrounds me
I have a contemporary pencil
Contemporary paper
Contemporary hair and clothing

I am the modern man
No mask will turn back time for me
Nostalgia has no home here

Contemporary house
Contemporary classroom
Contemporary friends

We find going outside a thing of the past
Digital and superficial worlds lay inside
Change is the booming business associate here

Contemporary art
Contemporary money
Contemporary crime

We can illegally alter our identity now
With just a sequence of altered and arranged numbers
Who are we here?

Opportunity Equipment

You've got blue jean shoes and a ripe attitude
HB2 says the might between my fingers
Manipulate the greatest powers you couldn't conceive
If at a time you would actually write
Not paint a picture for your newest flavor
But take time to realize that words mean more
More than just, "You're pretty and I like you"
But can give the trumpet at Jericho something to die for
We establish war and peace with a simple pen
The legal commitment and exile of life is signed after spoken
We write out words that you have broken

You call yourself a poet
No
You are a harasser of fluency
Murderer of monotonous medians
Generic dropout of theme
You think you have talent because of positive outlook
Positive input
You have never heard what you need to hear

So I will tell you
You are nothing more than a love sick
Fragment prone
Image densing
Anger commencing
Scribbling
Waste of breath and paper
With a pen

Educate Me

I couldn't help but to notice that you are a lot like my school schedule

Algebra:
You are a tab bit difficult to understand
Variables and complexes that lead to holding hands
Equations and intercepts that make it unclear
Getting past first period is just unconscious fear

English:
We begin to speak as soon as you come outside
Talking of modeling and bad music for the ride
It's when the silences never surface
That tonight has given more than purpose

Theater:
It's about time we start to act
Although nothing will happen, aware of this fact
If the night is our curtain, the mountain the stage
The first scene went well, from your reaction I gauge

Lunch:
Lunch is not a class. I don't compare women to objects, let alone food.

Latin:
Hidden meaning lost in your words
But gentle acceptance is given assured
Translate the story you've hidden in key
Lost in perception, regardless of me

Chemistry:
Here we finally feel to connect
Ionic bonds won't let us forget
This is temporary, a change of state
Properties leave as a mixture separates

Sociology:
Why? Why does it happen this way?
As we approach the end of the day
Talk are in depth and gathering meaning
The theory of cause is less than a feeling






I honestly think this is a crap poem. I just like my idea behind it.

Insomnia

I can say it all I want
All the sleepless nights
Watching the world turn as I speak softly
"You aren't real
You aren't real
I am enlightened
You aren't real"


What makes you so great?
Words that spew out as fast as your breath
Your newly styled primped haircut
Ego translates to "I" in Latin
And you couldn't fill that spot more perfectly
You are the ego
When in reality, you are the same decaying matter as the rest of us


There is nothing more I want than for you to hit me
Really
Nothing more
I would give my wallet to some jerk on the street
Call 911 just to tell them the emergency is is shoved up their asses
Just to get you to hit me


Deliver me, oh egotistical Ralph Lauren bottom feeder
Let's watch those pretty boy teeth get knocked in
I want to see you drop this act you call the truth and duke it out
Show me what you are actually like
Not this directed bullshit you read in your script of a head


We all know you
Come clean
Get soap

Complete

Design the world, young man
As it is your home
Molecular architecture at it's finest
Make the world something to be proud of
Don't let the hate drown you in your dreams
It is only as bad as you make it seem

Set forth, young man
Journey forward
March into April with glory
Let no showers rain on your parade
And spring forward, allow no attack
For only you can hold Fall back

Step out of the door
You're no longer the boy playing on the floor
But a man who will do great things, I'm sure
Make the world your home and not your war
As this day I have been waiting for
Though I am old, tired, and sore

I love you, young man
You, and nothing more

Rapture

I speak the sultry sound of voice
When not given an option,
A chance or choice
I move in motion, malignant to all
Struggle to stammer
Flail and crawl
I speak the solemn language of sin
Because with perpetual life
Humanity doesn't win
I drink the droplets of desire and hate
To further pursue
Inevitable fate
I drown in judgment, all allure
Feelings that fuel my
Wanting for more
I fall in luster and illuminate the sea
My greatest triumph is
The end of me

Hit Me

God, I want you to hit me
Put everything behind a punch and throw
Tyler, just say it
It isn't that I need to restart
It isn't that I am not masculine enough for today's society
It isn't that I need to just let raw power destroy the emotions
Just hit me
Screw the explanations and the planning
Fuck the upper floor and the modern world
Hit me, god damnit
It is just me and four walls
Pile and tile blood stains if you want
Let the linoleum soak up the aftermath
Just do it
Say it
Throw it
Fuck it
Hit me already
When I am standing in front of you
Heart pounding with anticipation
But then the scene ends
Hit me
Don't do it for the camera
Do it because you need to
"It's in the script"
Fuck the script
Hit me

seven thirty one (ex. 2)

"Hit the trenches!" were the screams that were emitted from the officer
As the young grays took the field
Pale
Scared
Fear flooding their eyes as the surviving grays hopped out and boarded the return train
The gray of their uniform barely showing
More mud and blood on them than clothing

The whistle blew, and the train left
We were left in the middle of the soggy terrain
The black coated officer jumped down and erected a turret station on a protruding rock
The craters from bombs and shells of vehicles of destruction littered the Bellevue battleground

We stood
Rifles and pistols ready
Our knifes in our coat jackets aching to be unsheathed
The ragged bunch from Titusville wouldn't last this fight
Not without their treaty with Harrisburg and Allentown

I looked across the fog to see the crumpled remains of the first squadron from the enemy
The dismembered and crippled bodies of the Titusville soldiers laid in a peaceful oblivion
Unaware of what has become of world

An eruption of engines broke from the Tight Line
"Drakes!" were the shouts of the grays
The drakes were Titusville's only real weapon against our Steel City
Tanks that were built from whatever cars they could find
Scrap metal and junkyard arsenal
Each drake having a different purpose

The officer grabbed the mount and waited
Grays stood
Anxious
Afraid

The first drake flew from the Tight Line
"Grays! Shoot the tires! We want to show the drakes what will happen if they attempt to burn our City of Steel!"
The officer had something in mind

One by one, the young trainees fired
Each bullet hitting the scrap tank
Each one getting closer to the rubber
Each getting closer to them witnessing cruel acts beyond thought

It worked

The front left tire spun off as the junk truck collapsed into the mud
"After 'im ya grays! Yinz gotta get 'im!" yelled one of the senior ranks
A small group of grays jumped out and pulled the drey from the flaming car
Four took him to the Steel Line as the fifth sent a bullet into the gas tank
Ultimately saying to the Tight Line to not push

The four boys threw him down
Then took the steel wire we all carry and tied him down
The overcast began to spew rain at this point
Our trench slowly pooling

Our flag flew heavy behind us
Supported by a concrete block
The large metal pole was what the officer had in mind

The officer in black called all of us in line to face the prisoner
He was a young kid
Pale
Dark haired
Bright lips
His brown uniform tearing in multiple places

He was about the same age as me
Would have been a gray, but the dreys don't have sectioned troupes by age

"Attention all grays. This is our example to the Tight Line. We must show them why the City of Steel is not one to challenge!"
At this moment, he took the steel wire he had in his pocket, then began to sew it in and out of the boys lips
Sewing his mouth shut with our product
"You speak against our steel, our steel silences you"
The drones repeated the phrase
The young boy whimpered and tried to scream
But only increased his pain
The officer began to sew his eyes
Gently pulling the eyelids up and thrusting the point through
Tears rolling down in a bloody mess
"You see a problem in our city, we correct your vision. There are no problems"
Repeat

The boy had fallen into the mud
Blood and tears streaming down his face
Many grays turning to vomit from being forced to watch

The officer wound a fair amount of wire around his neck
Then secured it to the rope of the flagpole

"Lieutenant, please raise the flag."
The officer spoke coldly to a shaking and queasy gray
The gray was about to speak when the officer turned and flashed a steel frown at him
His trembling lips stopped as he proceeded to the flag

We watched as the strong, yet shaking hands of the gray pulled the rope
Each tug lifting the boy up
His legs kicking in the air and muffled screams drifted into the night

Once he was at the top, there was no more kicking
No more screaming

The engines stopped
The Tight Line disappeared

seven thirty one

The heel of the boot stood and struck me prominently in the jaw
Pulps of red began to emerge from my lips
My hand raised to my mouth to examine the damage
Laughter of the young recruits filled the air
The bloody pulp that had emerged from my mouth was most of my bottom lip
As crimson poured from the gaping hole that was now my mouth
Mixed in with the wet soot and soil in the rain

I looked up to see the booted man
The young gray sentinels stood like steel pillars against the overcast
The burned remains of homes and holding cells littered the world

The booted man extracted a kerchief from his pocket and neatly wiped away the vile on his polished shoe
He called over a cadet who handed him a pair of pliers
My tooth is the price for not biting the bullet
"Forgive me, comrade. This is now mine"

The boot erupted on the side of my ribcage
Shattering my breathing
The snap of his leather fingers signaled for the towers of youth to evacuate

I picked up the mess that was my lip
Looked down at the mess that was my uniform
Looked up at the mess of world

I make mistakes

I make a lot of mistakes

I'm very aware

Every time you chime in with whatever bullshit you want to add
You just remind me that you were one of those mistakes


These are all mistakes
I don't care what you say
I am a good person
Everyone is
It is when you start to do things on purpose for personal gain that you develop into something bad

If I were honestly a bad person
It wouldn't mean shit to me
I wouldn't be at the point I am now

If I really were a bad person
I wouldn't stand up for people when they are spoken or acted against
I wouldn't try to right the wrongs I make
I wouldn't give a fuck about what I do to myself

Honestly
How can someone say, "You deserve to die" in regards to something like this?

Really
When you are interested in someone, things are put past you
So if she likes me, maybe that is being put past her
You are doing it just the same
It isn't like someone you find to be of interest hasn't made mistakes
It isn't like I saw that a mistake he made was getting on the ALEX high as a kite and smelled like he bathed in bong water

It was a mistake
I have realized that
Just like all people do
We can't all be perfect like you in your family
There is an obvious right and wrong
Of course


Picking the wrong is what is known as a mistake
Not a permanent reminder of your fuck up
It happens for a reason

Just like how we eventually came to peace with our mistake


Seriously
We don't like each other
Fine
Let's stop trying to show her who is better suited to her life and leave it between us

Flight

Had to do this paper for English.



C H A P T E R T W E L V E
A S T A N D I N G O V A T I O N

I finished filing the reports that Mr. Bloomingdale heedlessly bestowed upon me on my way out the door and rushed to the car.
Damn him…always having me stay as he takes every new receptionist out for dinner.
The key almost snapped off in the lock as I twisted it, imagining the stock of it was the only part of Mr. Bloomingdale he thinks with. My eyes drifted to his parking spot while I buckled my seat belt. I still don’t understand the point of an executive parking space. They already get a higher income, an office with a view (as opposed to my empty 3x4 of particle board they call a cubicle), and the managerial privilege of leasing a new car with the company every four years for the employee price. If someone in a lower position gets to work before someone like Mr. Bloomingdale, they should have the right to take that damned space.
It would be like going into the Drive-Thru at McDonald’s, and them allowing you to cut ahead of all the other customers because you agreed to “Super Size” your meal.

The drive home was nothing short of a sad song. I remember driving past a group of young kids playing in the overcast. Like the postal service I guess; persistent enough to deal with whatever is given to them.
The only difference is the kids are probably more dependable than the mail-men.
Parking in the driveway just reminded me of how alone I was. I got out of the car and took a good look around me to find nothing but trees. Stepping into the kitchen through the long hallway, I sat down my briefcase. I called out only to hear an echo of my own voice.
Alone.
Again.
I walked into the dusky parlor, on the verge of tears. The wood paneling on the floor creaked as my heels clicked on them. All around me there were pictures of a family, all in classic black and white.
All happy.
What do I have?
The burning and suffocating feeling came when my tears started. I tossed myself onto the blue velvet fainting couch and sobbed.
There are bookshelves full of photos and diaries and memories right there. Bookshelves full of the feelings and memories they loved.
Where are my memories?
I was overcome by the weight of my eye lids closing the dam that were my flooding eyes. They gently folded as I drifted off to sleep.

Suddenly, the room collapsed in a burst of light. I felt myself rise to find the floorboards warped into a rounded edge, making a stage. The ground was covered in a small layer of snow, and large, towering icebergs littered the stage. A backdrop of coarse deep blue velvet hung heavy; as beautifully painted lanterns were let down to give the indication of stars. I looked out to see what was there, but I saw nothing but a wall of the same material the backdrop consisted of. About to leave, I started to make my way to the wings when a grand noise erupted from the outside of the wall. I attempted to walk towards the noise when the wall split apart, a burning light blinded me. A wave of violins gave their beginning thrust of music as applause erupted from the light. I covered my eyes to see, but the light persisted with its siege. Finally the light dimmed, and I caught a glimpse of my audience. Every person who had their picture in the parlor was attending tonight’s performance. Still in black and white. I saw what appeared to be a young girl sitting in the very front row, clutching an antique porcelain doll, staring in awe at the set. A thrust of stringed instruments broke me from my stare.
They are expecting a performance.
I glanced down at my body to discover it decorated in a ballerina costume, along with an elegant headdress. The music began to play, and I involuntarily began to dance. My body spun and twirled and leaped all over the stage, my muscles not doing a thing. As if I were the doll for an invisible girl, I pranced and plied over the icebergs and left tiny footprints in the snow. The music was soothing and calm, an orchestral accompaniment to my show.
I felt needed.
Like someone actually cared. My heart seemed to swell at the thought of my audience enjoying watching me.
At that moment, the music stopped. My body froze mid leap over the tallest iceberg. There was a large pause, before all the grey figures arose in cheer and clapped and applauded me. Grey roses were thrown onto the stage. Top hats were rocketed into the air in celebration.
Thank you.

Waiting

is excruciating


"The ocean prays for his demise
But I swear to you
I watched his heart pump blood into those veins
Throwing punches
At ocean waves"


That's all I have to do
Keep throwing punches

Non Poterat Dicere (2/16/09)

You speak
As if you know first hand
As if you were the contender

You speak
As if someone believes you experienced it
As if your pain is accountable for this

You speak
As if I were playing a game with it
As if I move my pawns against the rooks for sport

You speak
As if you are wisest among wise
As if you your run in was a prediction of this

You speak
As if someone is listening to your complaints
As if someone were to think that you are the inflicted

You speak
As if someone cares to hear your story in shallow water
As if your words will convert these loving sentinels from stone

You speak
As if the words that run out of your mouth are making a fucking difference
As if the breath you waste with your bitching will draw away from those I take

You speak
As if time has stopped for you to make a stand against something that isn’t yours
As if God has bent the rules of forgiveness in your honor to smite me

You speak
As if time and realization is not something that phases me
As if I am as hollow as the words you speak out against me with

Well
Find a way back to your home
Go running back or be pushed by all
But this isn’t your home to speak in