Not all of us get the happy ending
Not all of us get the sad one either
Most of us get the open ended
Rattle-Tat-Tat Who-Dis-Mad one?
And frankly, with enough kicks in pocket
I’m pretty alright with that one.
Home » Posts tagged 'rhyme'
Tag Archives: rhyme
Then only dust remains
I like listening to the sound
Of beautiful melodies
Ones I haven’t the heart to play
Ones I haven’t the strength to ignore
Mostly those that come in waves
After morning, noon, and night
You can hear them like catching
The glimpse of a shooting star
Barefoot atop San Jacinto
Bend Oregon or Williamsburg highrise
Naked in the ecstasy of flight
Knowing even as your approaching
You’ve already begun to disappear
Begin Again!
Forgive me father
For I have sinned
Repented, and
Will sin again—
My son, dear Michael
Finnegan
3 Hail Mary’s
I’ll see you then.
A kick in the head!
I will always be curious
and allergic to cats.
Ain’t that a kick in the head!
I play my part as she sings me to sleep
Taylor calls for me from those stairs in Italy
I’m walking by a pay phone on the beach
Reminders from the East and a girl named Cicily
Talk me into circles out of reach
Send letters won’t you son to remind us what you’ve done
Don’t be a stranger call us once a week?
I buried what was left of my heartache in a trench
On that lonesome stretch of sand I was released
Now Bret he reads the lines in the background of my mind
There’s no one in this room to hear me sing
When journaling in thought feels like a raven’s claw
It’s Taylor who sits calmly next to me
The grass rests underneath her cheekbone by the sea
While chemicals channel flowing dreams
It’s 8am in August while I pour the gin and tonic
Listening to the ocean’s cresting wave
The cobblestone in Rome for which once walked me home
Now Cicily I hear her gently speak
There’s no such thing as time, if you believe that then that’s fine
But darling I’ve got no tears left to weep
I did my best to please the priest listening to me
Still Lucas rest assured me of my grief
I didn’t have to sail to France to find a girl to dance
I just went out every night for one last drink
So now as Taylor calls to me from those stairs in Italy
I pick her up once more from memory
I play my part as she sings me to sleep
I pick her up once more from memory
I play my part as she sings me to sleep
My work it shall begin
We are safe because we want to feel safe
And afraid because we allow ourselves to fear
All throughout the life I’ve know I’ve accepted what was
Hardly ever asking myself the real question, that is
What exactly do you want to be
Do you want to be loved? Feared? Saved?
Am I making myself clear?
Like standing by the railing of a ferry boat adrift
Looking out into the fog of early mornings spent
Nervous though I was, a child full of dread
Patiently awaiting the comfort darkness fed
Full of all my longings, too scared to make a sound
Reeling for the guidance, waiting to be found
But it wasn’t until I spoke the words
Which have placed me here today
And I wouldn’t place the blame where there is nothing left to blame
I could have got out long before that house we knew burnt down
I could have run away, what’s more
I could have made a sound
Though fear and faith are binding
For a child guilt is hard
And safety commonly looks like
A smile from afar
But now I’m counting crows, who’ve eaten all the crumbs
And as for beanstalks stalking, I’ve cut down every one
To grandma’s house goes Red, she no longer has to run
The piglets in their cabin, I hear they’re having fun
Released into the willows are fairytales Grimm
Now safe my inner child’s sound
My work it shall begin
Four Leaf Clover
Drunk and sober
Drunk and sober
Still one leaf short
Of a Four Leaf Clover
it’s ok to feel blue too.
I think I’d rather not
I mean ok
Let me walk a block
Get my thoughts straight
Try and help out
Make you feel great
If this was high school
Basket case.
I think I’d like that
I mean no don’t
If you bite back
I could go home
Take my shoes off
Draw a warm bath
Some use a toaster
Here I’ll right back.
Got a new job
Got a new face
Got some new friends
To help replace
No that ain’t right
I mean ok
It’s a bad trip
Depends what you take.
Is that a sick joke
Or the new wave
Is that a cut throat
Or a switchblade
Is this real life
Or a showcase
No one can hurt you
Just be brave.
Had a dog once
His name was courage
He could sense pain
Like a surgeon
One day I woke up
He had broken
His chain and ran off
But that’s the breaks kid.
See the sunshine
And the bus stop
See the shadows
And the rooftops
Even your grumpy
Great grandpa
Smiles sometimes
Don’t last long.
So if you feel bad
Just know I like you
If you feel sad
I’ll feel sad too
We’ll sing a singalong
In a sad room
Kid it’s ok
To feel blue too.
Tell me a story
There’s a part of me
that see’s this all clearly
like a child standing in a crowd
there’s really only one way out.
What is it that you see
it’s fine to disagree
why if the world’s mine oyster please
forgive me for the lack of belief.
I had this faith in you
I thought you had it too
how many smiles does it take to show
the unhappiness we grew to know.
Do you take this hand
would you understand
lighting matches just to prove you could
did it ever do you any good?
Tell me a story, one without love, cause it’s taken me for granted so many times—enough.
There’s a part of you
engrained in me now
I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit
it’s a piece I won’t ever regret.
So what’s the point of these prose
and insecurity poems
like a fish needs water to breathe
I guess it really isn’t up to me.
If this is just a passing feeling
I’ll agree to disagree then
watch the sun rise and fall once more
a couple hours then I’ll start the chore.
You see I know my problems
it’s not up to you to solve them
if I go out the Hemingway
like Kerouac first I’ll have my say so
Tell me a story, one without love, cause I’ve taken you for granted so many times—c’mon.
Tell me a story, one without love, cause it’s taken me for granted so many times—enough.
Memories
I keep coming across memories
in the background of my mind.
They say to live within the present
or else life’s a waste of time.
But presently these memories
have left me color blind.
And I can’t quite find my way out
of this never ending rhyme.
I keep coming across memories
like bicycles speeding by.
Their features blur together
with wind burnt summer skies.
How presently these memories
present themselves as I,
remember each one vividly
to whom each one I’ve lied.
How precious are these memories
kept sound within the dark.
Each one with their own melody
from which I’d never part.
Though presently these memories
which bear my open heart,
may one day get the best of me
for now are works of art.
Words Of An Average White Male 