Home » Posts tagged 'mind' (Page 12)
They had me at goodbye
as they always seemed to die
slow like a rose
one day jubilant and alive
then like sleep goes the week
and it’s noticed that the rose
has died. But see, I kept them there
all wilted and decayed
brown and crumpled I’d debate
taking them to the trash
throwing them away, though
a rose in its youth is beautiful
so too is a rose left to dry.
So I pressed them between pages
and drew a pretty picture
poured ink from my memory
so that even in death
they’d remain
alive.
A large portion of
poetry is spam.
But I don’t eat that stuff,
at least not until I get to see Hawaii
then who knows?
I hear, fried with an egg, it’s good.
When in Rome, you know;
when in Rome.
Before we knew one another
New York City Central Park
feeding ducks in the pond
Austin making quack-quack sounds
and Tina wanting to go
I looked at you for a long while
before you looked at me
and through my camera lense
I took a picture in black and white
your gaze, tender and aware as if to say
I am here and I’m glad you are too
and I nervous in my boyish wonder
trying to play coy though who was I kidding
tip toeing every word as I so often do
upon first meeting before I muck it all up
with the nonsense I carry like tattered old books
though that day there was no room for Paradise Lost
there was no desire for Walden or Poe
stepping lightly off the curb in those Italian Leather loafers
I thought went well with your hesitant smile
perhaps you felt it too when time stopped
not literally but figuratively as real as a care free afternoon
like that which was the fall in Central Park
and I think I even paid for dinner that night which I couldn’t afford
for all four of us since I had the credit
just trying to be nice, because well
you know, I was happy and I think you were too.
The perfect body
will never build
the perfect mind
as there is no
perfect mind, there
is no perfect body
but only our minds
lonesome perception
of what perfection
should look like
that no body can ever
really have in mind.
All that power and fortune
and fame and followers
always at too young an age
to handle. A bit of my heart
goes out to our youth culture
which those in real power
feed on like vultures. They
will inevitably fall from this
fame like bombs, ejected from a jet
and self destruct no less
because all that power and fame
and fortune is merely a baton
that when they’re out of gas
will seamlessly be passed to another
newer, more mysterious teen
just looking for a peace of minDUH.
We are all our own genius
aren’t we? Self-help tells us
to be selfless while the world
tells us to be tough
slowly, gradually
like a surgeon’s steel
picking apart pieces
of our sanity like a game
of Operation. We are all
children at heart, aren’t we?
When our nose’s glow red
and hairs stand on end
while our souls ignite like kerosene
flailing our arms in ecstasy
remembering the truth which
from birth was wiped clean
like a board of chalk.
We’re always trying to get that
message back, that message which
in a world or man and steel and greed
can only exist as long as love at first sight
where in the morning she lay
soundlessly asleep, bound to no one
her genius in my memory forever.
At the end of the day
when my feet are sore
when my mind is heavy
and I can’t take anymore.
Playing with matches I paint.
I paint such beautiful pictures
in my heart that burns
which no one can see
because I’m no painter
I’m just a bad artist
fingering napalm.
Everything is quiet now
in the middle of the day
where misery has settled down
like bricks on my chest lay
and although I can’t make a sound
my voice has gone astray
I will not settle underground
tomorrow I shall wake
to soft sounds of the morning
like loved ones I have lost
reminders that my mourning
is not in vain but just
and in the shadows of my mind
to where I now so lay
forgive me father for I have sinned
relieve me of this day.
A boy, four walls, a television set
what else more can one expect
a restless head, and evenings spent
on worthless puzzles, and VHS
tapes I watched, rewound and played
late past midnight, mornings, days
in a vault of body, mind
all to merely pass the time,
how good it felt, at that first glance
to fade into title sequence
and what a time it was to be
by oneself in harmony
caricatures care not to judge,
or fight, or fuss, nor try to budge
a troubled boy in troubled times
when credits roll, press rewind
rewind…
rewind..
rewind.
If, but there is no if
I, but there is no I
Could, but there is no could
Go, but there is no go
Back, but there is no back
I think
I would
press
Eject
make up your mind, or don’t
either way, someone out there
is making up theirs, so
best of luck
Words Of An Average White Male 