Sporadic Sentences


Waiting For Harvest

I couldn’t stop loving you if I tried

In my chest burns a gentle candle with your name written in the wax
When you’re near I can feel it flame up
Dripping wax down onto my heart
Now there is a dripping scented shrine to you molded in my ribs
Won’t you please come and melt this waxen figurine

I’ve tried to cut this cord with prayer and petition
Undo the umbilical of love that ties me to you
But I am still an infant, and I feed off of your leftovers

To stop my heart beating for you is impossible
It would be easier for me to will my heart to stop beating entirely
But I have already tried that trick, and failed far too many times

How I have yearned for you!
I’ve written countless poems for you
Begging you, pleading with you to come and take me away
Waiting for you to ferry me away to another world
But you always just laugh and smile
Shaking your head at me like I’m a silly little boy

I’ve lain awake in bed at night, thinking of you, dreaming of you
Curled up in the sheets, breathing heavily
Tears pouring down my face at our separation
I look up and I think I see your face
A gaunt, white visage, with eyes black as the night
Oh those eyes, how they have gotten a hold of me
They suck me in like the dark void of space
Eating me up like the black holes they are
The vacuums that suck up every soul whose time has come

Oh how I have longed for your touch
To hold your hand and walk off into infinity
Your thin, hard fingers would intertwine so perfectly with mine

Your body, so thin and fair
It is so beautiful
Truly, you are at the base of all loveliness
Everything that is precious has been built around you

And your kiss
Your kiss
If only I could feel those cold, grey lips against mine
Taste at last that kiss, so dusty and musty
Breathe in your absence of breath and make it mine
That would be heaven, hell, or something in between

Some day my dear, I will finally rest with you


Frozen Smiles

Look at all the frozen smiles
Forever trying to beguile
Smiling out from picture frames
Hoping you won’t forget their names
Look at the lips pulled back tight
So taught and so thin, it doesn’t seem right
All the ligaments and sinews stretched
To make a face forever etched
Flashed in a moment to film or website
We try so hard, our own bodies we fight
Hand on the right hip, restrain the hair
I can’t be on this end, my good side’s over there
Forever repositioning and filtering
To be stuck in a world that’s paper thin
Seconds, minutes, hours, spent
Trying to color ourselves with a rosy tint
Release the happy grimace and relax your shoulders
Life exists outside of a “pictures” folder

instagramIcon_400x400


Hope In Her Eyes

It’s not nighttime, but I’m seeing stars
They twinkle on bridge of your nose
Languish on cheeks who have no par
Cluster in a galaxy around your eyes
Down your lustrous locks they flow
Your visage is truly a beautiful sky
Hanging in the middle of it all are the moons
Two crescents that never fell nor rose
Always they stay there, singing the same old tune
A song of hope to all who listen
One to be written in poetry and prose
Hope that you can rest in their vision
Behind these two moons lies an endless universe
One that like ours, constantly grows
It’s filled with many good things just waiting to burst
Waiting to break their ocular levee
Spill out into the world we know
Share with us a piece of their heaven
These lunar orbs are so precious and so kind
It’s truly a privilege to peer into these windows
That shine out hope for all mankind

Credit to Sand-Rae (DeviantArt for this pic)
Credit to Sand-Rae (DeviantArt) for this pic

Into The Abyss

Faith lives in the fearful darkness
Where we cannot see and cannot know
What flies above or crawls below
It lives in the places we cannot see
Where we must crawl alone on bended knee
It lives in the impassable abyss
Where God asks us to walk on mist
Faith’s home cannot be found on any map
It’s constantly moving just out of our grasp
Faith is uncomfortable and can be quite scary
It requires no experience, in fact the contrary
We say with want to live by faith
But we plan each second of every day
Faith my friends cannot be planned
It is putting our lives into God’s hand
So if you want to live in trust
Inexperience, doubt, and discomfort are musts
Faith lives in the fearful darkness
But that my friends, is where God’s heart lives

abyss


Yellowed Whites

There they are in the mirror glaring.
Forever behind me always staring.
Yellow lidless eyes neither knowing nor caring.
To turn and face them would take daring.
They ride up behind so quick and scary.
You can almost see the nostrils flaring.
Down on you they are always bearing.
Through twists and turns the road keeps bending
But soon you know the asphalt is ending
Hands locked on the wheel but knees are trembling
Every time I ride I feel I’m gambling
Down a path to destruction I may be wending
The eyes get closer they’re almost nibbling
At my bumper my mouth starts screaming!
Please someone tell me I must be dreaming!
From this nightmare God please free me!
I can’t escape their yellowed creeping!
Then they turn down a side road, all is peachy.


Man on the Moon

Man on the moon please teach me your ways
Your arts of seduction that make women crazy
Send me a moon rock with some magic dust
Something to light up the fires of lust
I know you are the venerable master of romance
Wolves howl love songs to you when e’re they get the chance
Milky man in the sky please tell me why
These girls away with me will not fly
Burn your light bright so on me it shines
Maybe I can reflect your handsome designs
Drink up the moonjuice, that cosmic pheromone
Finally find ladies that won’t leave me forlorn


I Don’t Want It All

You tell me beauty is fleeting and silly
But her eyes won’t fade into one night’s sky
Her arms can hold me til tomorrow’s alarms
Her lips remain supple for a time against mine
Her eyelashes tickle for a butterfly’s kiss
Her bed can stay warm at least til the morn
You tell me loveliness flees with fleet feet
It won’t last the long and dusty decades
But I don’t want years, or fears, or tears
I just want the potent power of us for one moment


Yesterday’s a Mystery

I look back at my words from last night
What was in my mind that made me type?
I no longer recognize the man that’s in those lines
It seems so very strange how I change at different times
I think I must have hit my head and gotten amnesia
But I can’t remember, someone tell me what year is it
Am I 10, 65, 19, or 23?
All of the above, my mind’s all mixed with me
Look at the rhymes I wrote the other day
See my face in the mirror but I can’t make it stay
The words ripple and change
In my memory rearrange
The face fades and reappears
With different hair, eyebrows, but always same ears
Sorry professor I forgot about the project
But if it helps I daily forget the picture I project
Am I brave, am I smart, am I sane, am I crazy
I can never seem to remember, my brain’s always so hazy
Someone please help cause I feel like I’m insane
The face that looks back at me’s never the same

facesceface


Last (Words)

“Tell my mom I love her”
“Is it bad?”
“Fuck you”
Last words spoken over and over
Carved on tombstones
Spat in the faces of enemies
Whispered into ears
Sometimes drowned in tears
Thousands of words
Millions of silences
Some get a bullet through the heart
Others get lead through the head
One speaks, one splatters
Sometimes the last breath rattles out
The final dying wish
Other times it catches in the throat
And blubbers like a fish
One mutters one sputters
Death and taxes
They say that’s all were guaranteed
Say your words while you have time
Lest they die in silence as you bleed


Aural Ocean

Won’t you come and swim with me
In that soothing sonic sea
There’s nowhere I’d rather be
Than shaking it on the dance floor
Bodies moving left and right
All one race under strobe lights
This could be a magical night
Who could ever want more?
Let’s drown in each other’s company
All our spirits in harmony
We could grow together like a tree
You can’t buy this at a store
Drown with me in the depths of bass
Mysterious as the the void of space
If I could I’d never leave this place
Dancing til the night is worn
Come, together we’ll be free

10700275_10153161421503998_257057066367177267_o


You Can’t Chain My Mind

What does it mean to be a man?
To stand before the enemy undaunted
To plunge into the depths of adventure
Returning with your shield, or on it
To fly wild eyed at the monster
Defeat it on the bitter battlefield
Save the day and the maiden
To be superman still standing after a barrage of bullets

However, my body is not bulletproof
I have never held a sword
Nor struck out at my enemy with fists balled and teeth bared

Neither is my heart invulnerable
Though sometimes I think it is
I like to pretend it is a cold, hard rock
But it bleeds far too often to be either stone or cold

So where can I find my manhood
In my mind
Behind my eyes lives the undaunted brave
Still fighting for the ancient ways
For all that is good and true
They can shoot my brain
But they can’t shoot down my ideas
They will fly through the air on my words
Flit through the internet in blogs and tweets
Sit in waiting on dusty pages, waiting to be reawakened
They will burn in people’s minds until they catch on fire
The fire department can’t put out an idea

They can chain my hands and feet
They could put me into jail
They could silence my mouth and still my hands
But they can’t chain my mind
Though they crash against it like the endless tide
My spirit will not give an inch
No matter how they rattle their chains
I will not change
I will not be locked down with tradition
With ancient superstitions
I will not be altered with derision
They can take their fear back to its hole
Against its power I have guarded my soul
I am as free as a bird and slave to none
Except the kindly master of unconditional lovesilhouette20standing20chains20broken20freedom20from20slavery


Forest for the Trees

“Dear God in Heaven, what is your will for me”
We beg and plead and ask and tease
We tell Him that we want His will
While we ignore the outfit for the frills
“Sell your possesions and give to the poor”
Well, that was back then, that doesn’t apply anymore
“Love God and love your brother”
Well, I’ll love them unless they love their brother
“You Pharisees have corrupted God’s word with your ‘laws’”
Those dumb Pharisees, they didn’t have our do’s and do not’s
“Trust in me and water your seed of faith”
I’ll call you when I need you, this money makes me feel safe
We wear bracelets asking What Would Jesus Do
I think He would cry if our actions He knew
Making up laws like the ancient Pharisees
Then bending them backwards over our knees
Wracked with guilt over the laws we’ve broken
When only from our mouths were the rules spoken
We say we want faith but take our lives in our hands
If we want to trust God let’s give him command
Let’s follow the rules that Jesus actually spoke
Love God and your neighbor, no others he wrote
The god that we worship truly is not real
We’ve made up our own that preaches our speal
Brothers, we’ve lost the forest for the trees
And along with Christ, crucified “the least of these”

forest-for-trees


Live and Let Die

Could somebody please simplify
This life I live, just you and I
Get back to the basics and nullify
All this busy world, let it spin by
It doesn’t make we want to cry
But sometimes it make me want to die
I feel like a trout at a fish fry
Flipping and flopping on land so dry
When I yearn for water cold as ice
Then I pretend to be dead and lie paralyzed
Hoping the humans don’t figure my lie
Praying my escape plan won’t go awry
Too many bees thrive to this hive
Busily buzzing as they fly by
Too many options, too many vibes
My brains overloaded, short circuits as they pry
Into my emotions, my intentions, my drive
Please set me free from this flash flooded life
I want to give slow paced life a try
Rest in God’s peace, live and let die


Warbling Whistling Wails

My eyes snap open in the dark
Nothing moves in the shadowy room
No mousey squeaks or mysterious creaks
The house is silent as a tomb
Still my heart is racing
Eyes wide and alert in the night
There’s no sign that fear might incline
But still I’m in a fright
I wake like this each morning
At three or four o’clock
Soul panicking, heart clamoring
With no coherent thought
Then each time I remember
What monster has disturbed my sleep
A metal beast that makes a feast
Of souls that lack fleet feet
At first I arise to silence
But soon the howling comes
It begins with a mumbling and low pitched rumbling
Of footsteps that weigh tons
Then the screeching starts in earnest
Far off in the murky distance
The echoing screams of a thousand banshees
I cannot sleep at their insistence
They clamor and wail and squeal
Garbling out their vehement rage
They fight and smash and with metal clash
But they cannot break their cage
The metal monster holds them
As it barrels through the black
An impassive jail that the dead would derail
If its weakness they could attack
The lost souls shout for venegence
Or cry over forgotten woes
Whatever their issue from there mouths doth issue
An invitation to join their throes
So each night I lie and listen
In my warm but trembling  bed
To the prison of iron that shakes my environs
While the dead shriek in my head

night train


Echoes In My Ears

I write of love and I speak of life
But my love life is filled with strife
Maybe I hope the words I speak
With rebound off their ears and into mine leak
Advising others is a favorite way
To tell yourself something you don’t want to say


Free Chains

You say I’m free to be me
Do and say what I please
Kiss women or men
Mix up the birds and the bees
But when it comes to elections
You force your perceptions
Down my free gullet
Now that’s quite a conception
You say I must vote
Now there is the joke
Free to do anything
Except break out of the yolk
I believe in mental abstinence
Won’t contract mental diseases from your incompetence
Won’t validate the government I despise
Really people, it’s not rocket science
Freedom to act has multiple meanings
It means I can run, or I can stay seated
I can cast a ballot or sit in my home
I don’t need your one sided freedom


Journey of a Single Step

The Chinese tell us that the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. Truly, one step can be so important. With it we can begin a trip around the world, following the first with thousands more. Hop onto an airplane and the thousand miles are made in only a few steps. A step can begin, but it can also end. An accidental step down onto the subway rails will leave your family in wails. A purposeful step is not always good. Many have fallen out of this world with a single stride off the edge of a cliff. While some paths end in death, others travel through life, and these are the trails that I want to tread. To step forward with a brother could mean the world to him. One stands lonely, but two can carry each others burdens. A short mosey down an isle can end with a lifelong partner, who will stride by your side for the rest of your life.

Sometimes not even a mile will make a difference, if measured too late. You cannot run so fast that you could catch the past. Sometimes a single step can mean victory, take a step today towards a triumphant symphony. Walk towards the ones you cherish and away from the worries of life. Your loved ones will walk with you, but you must drag the world’s strife. Step out boldly on the path of friendship, and your footprints will be a remembrance of kinship. It seems at its core that life is quite easy, you can choose to go somewhere or you can be lazy. Walk towards what you want, and away from what you don’t. Perhaps someday our paths will meet, or perhaps they won’t.

paths


Wrong Face, Right Feel

I stare into the eyes of this white man with long hair
Though I think his complexion too light
I see my own pure white soul reflected there
The face I look upon is one I’ll never forget
The visage of the one who cleansed my filthy soul
In my black heart a flame of love he lit
His hair should be curly not so thin and straight
But the longs locks remind me of his grace
It stretches out to infinity, more expansive than space
So thank you culturally ignorant artist
Who forgot that Jesus was Jewish and not European
A face so loving, even your silly strokes, could not mar this

jesus-the-good-shepherd


(Powerful) Words

Often I am quite afraid
To read my words again
For I fear the feelings in them
Will echo in me again
I also seem to hesitate
When reading words for me
I fear what might be in them
Or what might be missing
If I want “I love you”
But only get “I like”
Just two letters in one word
Could alter my whole life
It seems I am afraid of feeling
Much of anything
My heart can’t stop itself in love
From diving in too deep
In anger my blood boils
It rages in my veins
I fear I might become a beast
To be locked up in chains
Sorrow is a gateway drug
That leads into despair
If I fall into that pit
I might never return from there
Joy can be a background hum
That gives meaning to life
Hate, a background grumble
That is born from strife
All this from some simple lines
Written on a page
Or typed on a computer
In this futuristic age
People laugh at proganda
Say that it’s just words
But millions have been murdered
By actions built from verbs
Letters it seems are powerful
For they can be combined
Into sentences that change our hearts
And manipulate our minds

the-power-of-words
Sometimes words make us feel loved
Your-words-have-power.-Use-them-wisely.

Supersonic Boredom

Some say I’m exciting
Pretty fly for a white guy
They think I am a speedy jet
Who’s excitement never runs dry
They only see me when I’m speeding
Through the clear and open sky
They don’t see me in the boring hanger
Where life barely passes by


Planned Prisonhood

Who could make a prison so fine
With painted walls and not much grime
Though I’m trapped here I barely whine
I can sleep and eat and write and pine
The gate’s not locked but I decline
To leave this comfortable prison of mine
Here I can make my battles plans
To fight the world and take its lands
Woo the women and win their hands
I can set out each and every detail
So carefully that none can derail
But on most I always bail
My intentions sit dusty and forgotten
Ridden with maggots, slowly rotting
I seem to lose interest after each plotting
On to the next whimsical distraction
But never move to any real action
If only I could keep my passion
I wouldn’t need fantasy to unwind
I could walk out the unlocked door anytime
And escape this prison in my mind

stuck_in_my_head_by_raincarnation-d30s95n


Shoot for the Stars

What do you think keeps a man from achieving his dreams? Maybe he fears that he can never reach them. He might reach for the stars and end up with a handful of dust. Perhaps he’s afraid that his lofty goals won’t be as fulfilling as he wants them to be. At the end he’ll stand on the top of his mountain and find that it has been a molehill the whole time. It could be the simple fear of failure, that as he climbs the ladder he’ll miss a run and fall back to the bottom, bloodied and broken. Might it be the whispers that surround him, nibbling at his ears? They say, “you can’t do it, don’t even try, you’re nothing, why did you even think this was a good idea?” A feeble puff of air keeps him scared and bound at the shore of his desires.

Or, maybe it’s because dreams were never meant to be achieved. Perhaps we’re supposed to always be reaching further and further. Climbing higher and higher, breaking through the ceiling of our dreams and then letting those behind us stand on our shoulders to rise even higher. We wanted the stars and landed on the moon, pushing out the boundaries of what we thought possible. Someday we’ll reach the stars and our grasp will extend out into the expanding reaches of the universe.

Starsinthesky


Thinking Man

I sit here and I think
What to do
Shall I run or walk
Jump or sit
Play or study
Call him or her
I contemplate for so long
By the time I’m done
The sun has set
Day is gone
It is time to sleep
Where my dreams mock me
Leaving me with feelings
I have never felt in the day
The sun rises and again I ponder
How to reach those places in my dreams
I spiral on and on
Moving from my chair to my bed
And day after day
Never leaving my head

Thinking-Man


Escapxercise

We pretend we’re having fun
Bikes and boards, sprints and jogs
What are we really running from?


Whispers in my Inner Ear

People talk about hearing voices
Evil demons snickering secret sins
Gaudy angels harmonizing joys
Lost lovers longing to reconcile
Old enemies crying for old vengeance
Maybe one or two or ten or twenty
A multitude of tongues tickling the thalamus
In my head there is only one voice
We sit and talk for hours
Whiling away the days
He’s the spokesman for all the others
That want to stake a claim in my brain
The speaker of the house
With considerations for all
He’s devil, cherub, lover and nemesis
The only voice echoing around the insides of my head
Is my own


Dreamship

Now I submit again to sleep
I am a chained voyager on the prison ship “dream steamer”
Let it take me to worlds I have never known
Let it sell me to people I’ve never met
Let it entrap me and set me free
To experience all that exists
On the other side of my eyelids

dreamboat


All the Small Things

It’s the little things that matter
Like the way she lies
Like splinter in your finger
Or an eyelash in your eyes

It’s the little things that matter
The popcorn kernel in your teeth
No matter how much you pry or prod
You cannot get relief

It’s the little things that matter
Like the rock stuck in your shoe
That scrapes along the pavement
Grinding away, annoying you

It’s the little things that matter
The way a cobweb blows
Like a ship’s white sail at sea
In the air it flows

It’s the little things that matter
Like the smell before the rain
Or the spaghetti sauce that on your shirt
Leaves a reddening stain

It’s the little things that matter
Like the scratch upon your back
That’s red and bumpy and so itchy
Another allergy attack

It’s the little things that matter
Like the way she won’t meet your gaze
She greets her shoes and shies away
She seems lost in a haze

It’s the little things that matter
Like the cicada’s chirping song
That greets you in the morning’s heat
Soon after the dawn

It’s the little things that matter
Like her pretty smile
That paints itself upon her face
Every once in a little while

It’s the little things that matter
Like the way her eyes grow wide
Whenever I look deep into them
They stare back inside

It’s the little things that matter
Like the hush inside a room
After a performance
Before applause’s raucous boom

It’s the little things that matter
Like her awkward laugh
Every time it sounds it writes
My sorrow’s epitaph

It’s the little things that matter
Like the way that he forgives
All the little sins that I commit
Each morning renewed I live

It’s the little things that matter
Like the way she hugs
Holding so tightly to my neck
Reminding me of her love

It’s the little things that matter
A thousand tiny lines
But when all’s said and done their total sum
Is the balance of our lives


The Problem With Breakup Poetry

The problem with writing about old love scorned is that time heals all wounds. We can re-cut and salt the weeping sores, but time will have its way. The seconds congealing the blood and the hours bandaging the gash. Days sew the skin back together and years weather the scars. We can always write about loved and lost and never love at all. But I think it better to seek new love than to keep slicing open the pains of the past. For time will have its way, and if we hold onto disappointment, we will be left holding a handful of scaly scabs. But if we ride out to romance once again, maybe we can pump new blood through our broken heart, instead of recycling black oily life turned poison. Leave the dead to bury their own, let the crushing weight of time bury the past, and walk forward with me into the hopeful horizon.


Want and Waste Not

I see my waste
Plastic bags everywhere
Paper overflowing from my desk
Useless scraps with meaningless scribbles drawn on
Suitable now only for the trash can
All the food thrown out
Rotting
Feeding only the flies
Clean water flushed down the drain
Over and over
I look back and see their efficiency
Water bottles always saved for later
Peels and skins fed to the dogs
Firewood never chopped
Always collected from the countryside
Few words, except for singing
Stillness when not walking, dancing, or fighting
They were efficient not only in waste
But also in talk and action
Men and women born in neccessity
Who live out of neccessity
There nothing wasted
Here so many words that they overfill our heads
Crowding our minds with an endless barrage of meaningless phrases
Until the flood gushes from our brains out of our mouths
An endless torrent of half digested thoughts
Hours driveled away on diversion
Lives wasted away on paper
What I would give to again be that simple and efficient
Chewing the cud of my mind until fully digested
Speaking out of knowledge and wisdom
Eating what I need and needing what I eat
Sleeping enough, but not too much
Waxing to excess only in relationshipsOLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA