There’s something cynical in your smile
as if I rubbed off some and forgot to say,
that I’m not that kind of cynic.
And I feel no joy from any of this.
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The time between collision and capsizing
There is something very scary
about imagining a life without flaw,
as if insecurities were a sin
you could merely pray away?
There’s something cynical in that,
something dangerous.
Something I haven’t the heart to feel,
it’s something impervious.
Because with great peril comes
an even greater awakening, an awakening
which floods the veins with frozen certainty
as the waters eating the Titanic.
It’s the time between collision
and capsizing, which we find ourselves
relieved of our blind faith, knowing
with grave admiration, the life
we’re living, is all we have.
Artistic illusions
Make my bed
Spread the sheets
They are white
They are clean
There’s a nestle of bird
Who sing softly and sweet
There are bills
To be paid
Overdrafts
To be made
But I’m conscious today
Knowing that rot can wait
I have given enough love, I’ve wrestled with the thought
Spared quarters like rain to a cynical saint
I’ve got no time to spare
All this death in the air
Has me feeling quite good, transcendentally great
Forgive me but truth is
Artistic illusions
I’ve no cross to bear climbing trees and it’s clear
That I
start to see past
The sun and moon
The sky opens up
There’s nothing left to do
This closure’s my mantra to you.
Wash my face
Clean my teeth
Knock on wood
Once a week
There’s a pub inn Philly
Where I dug my own grave
Comb the depths
Of your hair
Try and act
Like you care
I’ve been watching your play
Mixing tonic with pain
You have given enough love, so much work to be done
Put your suitcases down, for a while and remain
Like a park bench in autumn
Or leaves that have fallen
I’ve got proof there’s a cure, you just gotta find yours
Forgive me but truth is
Artistic illusions
It’s a tale to be told, when you’re young and your bold
And now I’ve
Got to go back
To the way I was before
And now you’ve
Got to go back
To the way you were before
This closure’s my mantra to you.
Words Of An Average White Male 