Wordless

And yet it burns.
Unsuasionably.
Undefineably.
Meaninglessly.
Purposelessly.
It all just floats here.
In burning drab colors
that simply do no justice to the pain.
Oh Jesus, why?

In Dreams Only Dreamed

Jesus Christ
just this let this break,
let this heart shatter,
let the pain be real
and this this break.

Make me new
like only you can.
Take this blood
and renew.

Like only you can,
like only you can.

No waxing metaphor
can compare
or illustrate
this love.

So please let me break,
please break this heart
so full of shame,
just let me shatter
so we can be one.
End this charade
and unite
this endless divide
so we can be one.

And simply let me break
so we can be together,
oh my love
only in ways imagined
let us be one,
endless in love
and
endless in hope,
forgotten dreams realized
in ways only You know,
let your hope burn
and renew.

But first,
please let me break.
Let this break and end.
Bring about the revolt,
bring about my end.
Just this end
and let it break.
End this hollow words
at your command
and beckon me forward
in shades of life
absent of gray.

Oh please let me break,
let me be new.
Let me fly to you.
Just make me break
and be yours
and you be mine
in ways we only dreamed.
So let this break
so we may be one.

Waltzing Out of Time

There is no release
and relief
from this famine of the mind.

There is no release
and relief
from this prison of your time.

Like some scorched earth
my mouth is dry,
cracked, crusted
and bleeding dry.
Feeling my crevices with
long sought after fluid
but never what I had in mind.

Just this coughing dry wheeze
of dust covered lungs,
chocking on self centered ego
and many lost mistakes.
It's never you
oh dear me
it's simply me.

I couldn't let you take the fall
and now,
now it is me you hate.
It is me you point the finger at,
whilest you strut like some
forgotten tart,
outside of time and her mind.
Not realizing her cracked beauty
and faded lips.
No longer with red
but a faded shade of gray.

Do you remmeber my first mistake?
Wanting your hand near mine.
The first on the list of many,
the last mistake my heart can take
and the last you will ever see of me.
I left your mind the second
I ceased to be your simple
little toy,
simply said
I was nothing to be and nothing to do.
Nothing to see and feel
but still
I can thank self deluded egomania
for this last dance.

The sad thing is you can't read this
because you never knew what you did.
The only crime committed was my heart
for attaching your soul to mine.
The only crime you did was breath
and live near this part of town.
The mistake was mine to live
and be
and breath
and exist in.
Every step forward is another mile back,
every single breath is another break,
every single being is this
and that
and those
and wishes unfulfilled.

If they didn't think me crazy
they sure do now.

This last dance
sure drove me out of my mind,
no matter the day or date
Monday or Tuesday
it was another one of those days,
you know the sort.
I wouldn't mind a little indulgence
or another burst of hope
ringing through my chest
wrenching my heart oh so tight.
Just another slow dance,
another serenade of the soul,
another movement in time
with breath in sync.
I can't lie to save my breath
except to me about you.
The only fool is in the mirror
for believing me about you,
not that you said anything about me
to you
or in exception to us.
Not much to see here really
just another self delude
dance out of time,
out of space
and most certainly,
as seemingly always,
out of mind.

Plastic Pictures Stay

I hate your pictures.
They bring back too many memories.
But I see them everywhere.
On the walls
on buses
on the sides of buildings
plastered about
in such a way
that a self centered
egocentric
attention whore
like yourself
would enjoy.

It's like this burning thorn
just placed in my mind
something you would enjoy
with your self satisfied ego.
Knowing that years later you,
yeah you,
can cause me so much pain.

I didn't ask for this
when I said I loved you
I just asked for truth.
I never asked for this
when I asked for your hand
just for truth.

But truth it seems
comes at too high a price,
fictitious as you may be
you are all I could ever see
and too high a price
to simply let me be.

Plastic Image Bands

There is no use
for the thoughts
your curves
and
smile
bring to mind.

There is no use
for the burning sins
my mind grasps for
after the grave.

Rain drops are falling
and fallen
and fall
just in your way.
Blocking the sight,
convoluted in fright
and block out the day.

Broad stretches of gray
and insightful
lies tonight.
Meaning what they say
and never saying what they mean
as they stack and curve
and bend in plastic tubes
and metal humming sights.

Mechanical beings
and frightful sights
and trusting lies
all saying what they mean
and never say they say.

All convoluted in sight,
convulsing in drunken rage
at the sight of self
and fright at the images
reflected by the self of self
in the self.

Streaming Thoughts And A Little Misplaced Hate

I can't tell what I'm feeling today,
I can't tell what's right.
I don't know what I'm feeling today
and I don't know if it's right.

Half the time I love you
and half the time I hate,
half the time I like you
and half the time it's hate.
It's every other moment of life you see
that makes it so hard.
Because half the time I'm loving you
and half the time it's hate.

I hear that life is going okay
or maybe it's just great.
I keep hearing that life is okay
and I wonder what is wrong with a little hate.
When you shape things in life
after yourself
you get a little half baked
You get full of self fulfilled intent.
But wasn't that the reason?

It's almost as if your beauty brings me tears
as much as it brought me agitated hate,
just over the left ice on the floor.
Not to mention all of the fear
that was brought by trying to trust
something so sublime
as pure unadulterated hate.

It's not that my passion is fading,
it's not like the night is late,
it's not like my passion is fading
because it's all you I hate.

And the clock spins another time
as we dance this last number
all across this space
not able to stop for a dime
or for you that matter.

Just because you get tired of the ride
doesn't mean it can stop at your leisure.
Just because you get tired of the company
doesn't mean it's easy to get off the ship.
The journey has just started doll
so despite the screams
over the explosive din,
I do hope it's a pleasant one.

Because,
as I hope you do know,
half the time I love you
and half the time I hate,
half the time I like you
and half the time I hate.
It's every other moment of life you see
that makes it so hard.
Half the time I'm loving you
and half the time it's hate.

Half of the time it's hate,
maybe sometimes it's lust
and other times fear
or maybe just maxim feelings of must
intermingled with beer.
Confixed angels
with broken wings,
trusted angles
with broken rules
trusted lies with fixed rulers.
It all runs on and on,
broken syntax intermingled with this
and that
and misplaced irony for two.