the solitary reaper. (incomplete)

standing still on a solitary hill

in purgatory amidst heaven and hell 

i was never coming down 

i can still hear the sounds

made by dying men

i was not brave enough

to find out love was war

and war was pain

trapped remembering unhappy

far off things

the soldier crawled up the hill

his uniform soaked

his eyes certain, still 

he said stand up

and walk to the edge

look around

take in the moment

this blue sky

the breeze that is blowing

and all that it has seen

empires rise

and better men than us

have failed

to stand the test of time

there's no place for our hubris at all

so no, the fight’s not done

confessed it made him scared

the thought of the gauntlet left to be run

he said tough, no point in backing down

no sense in sitting on the sidelines 

until the clock’s run out

time’s up

and it’s over

and you’re out

the poet.

i knew a boy who could make you weep

with a handful of words shaped into poetry

his imagery sharp and achingly sweet

the prose simple, stark, and clean

his life, it was troubled, but his conviction pristine

when i met him on the sidewalk of that empty street

he was so sad, but content

thinking of how to make a difference

through his words and with his mind 

the perfect mix of raw and refined

he said i choose this hurt

i choose this pain

choose this sadness that burns and takes my breath away

so keep your smiles

and redirect your light

i think i'm going to walk this road a few more miles

i want to feel

the weight of the world

watch the tragedy and the comedy unfurl

i will learn how to speak

to people's souls

and they will remember the poet long after the man
he is gone

fool.

he says i'm too bad to be good for you
but i still like the smell of your perfume
your heart is naked, bared, and i like the view
darling, you don't leave because you're such a fool

fool, to fall for you
fool, to fall for you

he says i, i don't need to apologize
i never fed you promises or empty lies
and if the truth it trickles from your eyes
darling, even though i sympathize

carry, carry on
carry, carry on

somehow find a way to justify
the bruises on your soul and in your eyes
but i'm not fooling anyone, am i?
carry on,
i'll be alright

"we have lost even this twilight."

"i remembered you with my soul clenched
in that sadness of mine that you know."

no more lies.

in shadows thrown by yellow lights
the speakers pound and the bodies writhe
i couldn't name all the places i've been
breathing cigarette smoke and a thousand sins
wondering if i, i could have lost my way...

sink into a chair at the back of the room
blinded by a sense of doom
a whisper of doubt run up my spine
shoots through the haze into my mind
i'm wondering if i, i could have lost my way
led astray... 

by all of the
bright lights 
on the way down
and the consequences of that now 
are these electric days in a carefree daze
surrounded by a crowd but there's no meaning
i'm feeling out of control, i don't know what to think
except i'm standing at the crossroads
of a story etched in indelible ink
and in ten years 
i will be right here
still blind

well i want more from the world
it's time for me to wake up
and face what's in my soul
the fickle girl with the promising eyes
a dreamer afraid to even try
an optimist with a cynical smile
but no more lies
no more lies
no more lies
no more lies
yeah (x4)

and the fear of failing made me freeze
so i trembled when he set me free
and promised that he'd hold my hand
oh when everything else came to an end
but i wonder if i, i could have lost my way
led astray...

as he showed me the
bright lights
on the way down
and the consequences of that now
are these carefree days in a summer haze
the sun on my back but i'm still
so cold, and all alone
and i can't hide from all the people i know
and the right things, the expected dreams
how life goes by every time i blink
and i'm back there
in that same chair
still blind

but i want more from the world
it's time for me to wake up
and face what's in my soul
the fickle girl with the promising eyes
the dreamer with a careful life
an optimist with a cynical smile
but no more lies
no more lies
no more lies
no more lies
yeah

(with a smile on your face and love in your heart)

yeah

(as the world fades away we’ll dance in the dark)

yeah

(as the skylines come crumbling down)

yeah

(the lights go out and the warnings sound)

yeah
(our dark days are over now, we tell)

(no more lies

no more lies)

yeah

(no more lies

no more lies)

the poet (broken).

i saw him break like that glass of wine 
all his happiness fall to the pine 
and disappear into the dark between the boards 
until all that was left was the stain 
of who he'd been, smeared red like paint 
she said i am so sorry 
and when she turned to go 
her heel smashed the glass to shards 
i picked the pieces up and tried, oh i tried 
to put them together just right 
the edges smooth, perfectly aligned 
but when we sat on the porch looking into the night 
he said there is nothing here that needs mending
i promise you that i will write my own endings 
see i am fine, i am fine, oh no, i am glad 
this is the best lesson that i have ever had
so if he was never quite the same 
no more poetry and simple leaps of faith
just sharp edges and a pretty face  
well there's nothing anyone can really say 
but he says i, 
i have learned how to let go 
to push my sadness outside 
and latch the door 
i like how it feels 
to feel nothing at all
to never expect anything more

careful (this summer will never end).

we were sixteen
and the world was new
so certain all our dreams
were going to come true
i was trying
to figure out who i was
a dreamer with a careful life
and all the reasons not to love

we, we didn't speak of the paths we'd walked
he said you,
you don't gotta be so

careful, careful, careful
i'm not going to hurt you
i just want to be your friend
but you're so
careful, careful, careful
i am not going to hurt you
i just want to be your friend
and pretend
this summer will never end

so we sat close
under a blazing sun
with no more walls to be built
and no more battles to be won
and i was tired
of being who i was
a dreamer with a careful life
and all the reasons not to love

we, we didn't speak of how we'd hurt before
he said you,
you don't gotta be this

careful, careful, careful
i'm not going to hurt you
i, i just want to be your friend
but you're so
careful, careful, careful
i am not going to hurt you
i just want to be your friend
could we pretend
this summer will never end

you're so
careful, careful, careful
i'm not going to hurt you
i, i just want to be your friend
but you're so
careful, careful, careful
i am not going to hurt you
see i, i just want to be your friend
and pretend
this summer will never end

a drop of dylan thomas.

do not go gentle into that good night

rage, rage against the dying of the light

i will sing.

fly fly away

and know that you were loved 

sleep sleep sleep

and rest if you must

everything you wanted to do it is done

and if i must carry on

and all that is left is this song to be sung

i will sing, sing, sing, i will sing

i will sing 

i will, 

i will sing

silhouettes and streetlights.

in a corner of paris 

in a darkened studio

amidst a disarray of tangled limbs 

and pillows on the floor

your breath is slow and even

your lips pressed against my throat

you smile in your sleep 

and i wish i could go where you go

when your dreams carry you away 

the sky is dark, bluish gray 

and the leaves are burnished gold

the days end quickly 

and though the nights are cold

the window is flung open 

and on the streets below

a single set of headlights 

illuminates the snow

drifting down lazily 

as the moment seems to slow

and you shiver in your sleep 

and reach out to bring me close

there's a pause between our heartbeats 

running through the darkness 

with my hand held in yours

silhouettes against streetlights 

that set the night aglow

though there are many places 

that i have called my own

there's never any doubt you are my home 

stumbling over cobblestones 

in the narrow streets of rome

pressing our tongues against 

melting ice cream cones

wandering through ruins 

where sound speaks in echoes

our laughter is mingling 

with centuries of hope

as we stand at a fault line 

of the new world meeting old

running through the darkness 

with my hand held in yours

silhouettes against streetlights 

that set the night aglow

though there are many places 

that i have called my own

there's never any doubt you are my home 

when the adventure is ending 

and drawing to a close 

i will hang up my hat 

and take off my coat

and when i'm writing the epilogue 

to the grandest story told

there will never be any doubt you were my home

running through the darkness 

with my hand held in yours

silhouettes against streetlights 

that set the night aglow

though there were many places 

that i called my own

there was never any doubt you were my home

there was never any doubt you were my home

cigarettes and a touch of pink.

she smells like cigarettes and a touch of pink

a mix of bad with innocent

a sideways smile on blood red lips

with a little shrug she starts to sing

i'm medicated up to my neck

i'm dedicated but such a wreck

its complicated but whatever's next

i think i'm ready for the test

if it breaks me

i'm just gonna get up

if it hurts me

you know that's what i like

if it kills me

well, i guess that's fine

i felt alive 

i felt alive

i felt alive

she stumbles home in six inch heels

all golden skin and sex appeal

whisky-soaked and out of breath

says i've never looked before i leapt

hell, i think i'm brave but i hate the dark

i know i crave leaving a mark

i'm educated but not so smart

i never know when to stop

if it breaks me

i'm just gonna get up

if it hurts me 

you know that's what i like

if it kills me

well, i guess that's fine

i felt alive 

i felt alive

i felt alive

wait
you see, i know you're right
that you're the sanest voice
that's running through my head at night
but as the reel unwinds
and the time ticks by
the picture shakes
the tracks are misaligned

sometimes it's all too
slow, slow, slow
and it feels like i'm losing my mind
fast, fast, fast
and i, i am falling behind
wait, wait, wait
i don't know how this thing goes, but

if it breaks me

i'm just gonna get up

if it hurts me 

you know that's what i like

if it kills me

hell, i guess that's fine

i felt alive 

i felt alive

i felt alive

this is not my fight.

he said your story's so fucking tragic

if i read it you'd have my sympathy

but living in it with you

is more than you can ask of me 

you make sad look so peaceful 

but the stillness does not run deep

and there's no one that can fix

what's broken underneath

i gave it my everything

until you wrung all the caring out of me

and now i look at you

and think its time you set me free

of all this misery 

and hope for things that you can never be

untitled.

under the setting sun, we
shared our thoughts and memories
you kissed me until i
drew a breath and began to cry
for the things that i had seen, they
broke my heart and took my breath away
until you came and kissed me free
and breathed meaning into me.

imperfection.

Imperfection might be the reflection of

Scintillating smooth ripples of butterflies

Melting warm on my tongue

Hot bullets shooting outward like a raging fire against

The roof of my mouth on every pressured breath

Maybe crying slippery crystal tears that fall, tinkling like

Small silver bells carried, jostling, in a quart berry basket

Maybe laughing wide because of the tricks yet to be played

Capers gone unnoticed amongst a fury of suspicion

Selling an unsuspecting hen a lottery ticket

...Faking an utterly perfect egg

...Advising a captured balloon to freedom

...Pretending that the tail isn't mine

...What tail?

Maybe rolling over sleepily on a bleary winter morning

Shrinking to the size of a pea wrapped in a cozy pod of down

Drowning in an intense apathy for fiercely brushing

My tooth with a thrice-sharpened axe of ancient toothbrush fame

Maybe dreading the future keeps me snuggled and afraid

Of the weary children slaving on Saturdays trapped

Beneath a hot, bright, noisily shining Sun that somehow

Is a little farther than over there

. ..A little longer than forever and a day

...A little faster than the raging wind

...A little more perfect than nothing

...And everything -

Is hanging in anticipation of the rain crashing down

Maybe sloshing against the wet and heavy air

Washing clean the scratchy thoughts and dust collections

Of imperfections from my hair

shiver.

i am disappointed, more than i can say
i'm trying to explain, but words are getting in the way
i am sadder than i have ever been, today -
stumbling, shivering, down memory lane..
where the words are hollow and the colors grey,
where the laughter is missing and in its place
is this silence that we have made
a stillness in which my heart silently breaks
with the knowledge that there can be no escape
from who we become and what we create.

you raise me up to more than i can be...

when i am down, and oh, my soul so weary

when troubles come, and my heart burdened be

then i am still and wait here in the silence

until you come and sit a while with me...

i miss you, achacha.

the memory of you makes me stronger. 

love, always.

untitled.

suffer at my side
we'll make the same mistakes
learn the lessons well
and make the mistakes again
break your misery down
honey, tear it right up
put the pieces into this paper cup
toss it in the sink
and just think about this...

the window is open
the sunlight is fading
and nothing is making
any sense anymore

but we stay silent
because that's how we like it
there is no reason to fight it
as we lie on this floor

well honey, i am ashamed
and i am sadder than i feign
but there is no need to explain
you are all i'm looking for.

name that tune!

the one in the address of my blog; starts with the lyrics no i would not sleep...
sans google (and other forms of outside help), if you please.

oh, and while i'm at it - let me make a shameless plug for www.howtodoitwrong.blogspot.com. it could do with a bit of readership. =)
--

i walk home alone with you
in the mood you're born into
sometimes you let me in
and i take it on the chin
i can't get clean again...
i want to know,
can we get clean again?

--

currently: barefoot, sleepy, wistful, slightly restless

i know why the caged bird sings

the door slammed shut, the noise ringing long after the finality of the action was driven home.

she stood shivering just inches inside the room, her bare feet soaking in the biting cold and carrying it to her arms and legs. barely still, as her emotions spun, chaotic. fear. anger. disbelief. hope. it was this last that made her turn around to look at the door once more. but the door remained in reality, unswayed by the fleeting hopes of the human heart. back was not an option.

so,
forward.
white, white - all around her white. white walls, and floors, white ceiling; pale glass at the windows, frosted from the winter cold. outside - snow, and clouds - frozen white.

the first hours were the hardest. she walked around the edge of the room, pacing at first, then slower and slower, but her mind refused the message, the thoughts racing - her heart beating furiously in her chest. plan after plan - escape, acceptance, revenge - made and inevitably tossed away.

when she sat down, her back against the wall - not in a corner, for no corners of comfort existed in this cold, circular, white room - it was resignation. sinking, cold. when she leapt up again to walk to the window and press her nose against the frosted glass it was - she didn't know what it was. or why she did it, just that she must. when she turned away from that window, it was despair. pure and simple, cutting.

when she wept, it was tears of glass - crystal, clear. fragile they were born, and fragile they fell - shattering silently against the polished floorboards. released, they lay - tiny gleaming, colorless pools reflecting the emptiness of the room.

the days, or perhaps they were hours, she couldn't know - passed. she cursed herself, her thoughts which let her be, deceptively silent in sleep, and tore at her, making up twice over for every second she was awake. she cursed the daylight for an unwelcome companion during the day, forcing her to face herself, and cursed it for abandoning her at night. she slept, she woke, she thought, she felt, she screamed, she slept.

then came an hour, a minute -
perhaps early morning, or afternoon or late evening,
she had lost track - the measurement meaningless.

suddenly, a precise point in time which slowed, and slipped into eternity. she treasured the silence, the stillness of the space in between each heartbeat. freedom, felt in the loss of time. unfettered. everything was of importance, and yet, nothing was. nothing at all.

and so in that moment she stood, in the center of the white room, painting pictures with her mind before the sound of a beat leapt up to wipe them clean. every picture painted in total clarity. again, and again - create, erase, create - listening, painting, feeling, shivering, entranced.

walking forward, she lifted her hands - cautiously, hesitant - to rest them against the walls.

when she breathed in - sharply, shallow - her breath drew comfort from the air, the pain reminding her of existence and realities, of fear and heartbreak, tangible and inescapable. with her fingers she traced designs on the smooth surfaces around her, her eyes closed and her mind free.

picking up a brush, she dipped it in paint and began - blues and greens, cold, cool, and warm. cerulean skies and indigo seas, dancing girls with sea-green hair and bright blue eyes. stars and silver, spun into pictures of hope and dreaming, wistful, ecstatic. gold and cream, buttercup yellows and molten oranges, shimmering, sunlight and sunsets, beautiful melodies and lazy summer days.

slowly, she painted the world onto the walls, her eyes closed, the brush held light in her hands. smiling, swaying to the music of a thousand orchestras, lilting strings and haunting harmonies - browns and golds, sepia, amber-bright, autumn breezes and children's laughter - she painted happiness and love, smiles, bright.

quickly, she painted, and at times the colors faded, lost their life - slipped into sorrow and loss, shadows. and in her mind, the music became louder - a slow crescendo - greys and whites and pale blues became darker, deeper, black, purples and reds; anger, fury, hate, screams, despair - she painted them out furiously onto her canvas, faster and faster. her brush became a blur as it spat out turmoil in a hundred shades red and grey. harder, faster, until she grew tired, until she painted it all out, laid it down on the walls around her - until, inside her, there was nothing but stillness.

acceptance.
slowly she stepped back, and slowly she opened her eyes.

white. emptiness. the walls wiped clean.
her hands, empty. no traces of paint.
her thoughts, empty. no traces of feeling.
finally at one with the surroundings.

in the center of the room, she stood in silence.
the infinite moment passed,
and she lay down on the cold, smooth floor,
closed her eyes,
and slept.

for the one who knows what i'm talking about.

do you feel like i do, tired of everything?

can you feel what i can, almost everything?

i want to leave today

the sky is big and my life is small

i want to leave with you...