the stars, the sea, and sleep.

Monday, February 28, 2011

Ask The Host About The Next Show

Some mornings I feel the dealer taking his shift,
But there isn't really much that I do.
You've gotta earn it. Because right now,
You've only got one thing coming for you.
Reservations were left on the table,
But you thought it was an appetite to hold back.
If you take away the swine that left,
Well, you have nothing to count on.
You are a silent film that kept the sound on,
Because you thought you were ready,
But the reel spun on like a violent storm
And your head spun with bloody eddies.

Sunday, February 27, 2011

How the Day Smears Cross the Sky

And we waited for things to happen
At three times the normal speed,
Just to slow it down and repeat it.
We wondered how we could possibly keep it
Just the way it was.
So we scraped are knees on T.V. screens,
Running too close to a cathode reality,
But the skin never seemed to break
And the grass didn't even come to stain.
All the while, you were holding your breath
Like you were finally going under,
Like the chill that crawled up your spine
Was the counterpart of summer.
The corner was once much warmer
When the walls weren't afraid to touch,
But they get sharper once they're older
And the contact becomes too much.

Saturday, February 26, 2011


There were all sorts of levers and traps in your accented genuinity.
Every strap that held your paling wrists down
Hugged your skin against bone and swelled your hand,
Little red blood cells swirled like velvet goldfish
Breathing a purpose they didn't think twice to keep in mind.
With so much uncertainty in your fabrications and designs,
Your names were threaded with black sharpie lines,
And if I ever had a chance to fix it, I'd do everything the same.
If I ever wake up again, I'd ask you to repeat your name.

Flat Spin

Those cards made to perfect circles
Were laid to overcome certain hurdles,
But were never mine to play.
Yet there they were, displayed on the table
All under my name, the one you would say
When the dizzy night called upon it.
I cannot recall whether the fate was fixed
By a slopping pendulum that swung through time
Or if the odds just made it all seem odder
And uneven beats left one's teeth against another's,
But I've grown up playing the ebony keys,
And tonight I was singing something darker in between.

Friday, February 25, 2011

Hours, M.D.

We run the week along the perforation
And break the leaking bonds of sleep.
To slip into my most comfortable clothes
Is to drag the words against year ears,
Tired sarcasm from brass lips
With only as much power and presence
As the hollow instrument that bellows.
Wake up and say hello,
Shake up the still, now seemingly dead
From the skepticism of an even spread.

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Lion Limbs

To conquer the tangles of relapse,
You pushed your tongue against the wall
And relaxed, soaking consonants and vowels.
You were prey to all your petty whims,
You hid your pride like lion limbs.
I took sips of sweet lemonade
And bathed in the clarity.
The citrus made my eyes red,
Evicted former levity.
You make every sentence long
For the sake of life's brevity.
Every angle is accelerating,
Concentric made your bed in me.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Social Reform (Base Theory)

Little creatures leave bubbles on the surface
That scatter my attention like infinite sands
Blurred by infinite salt within the imminent sea.
We're wearing our collared summertime clothes
And reenacting our favorite parts of the NT;
Our new skin plays with the water tension.
You read me like a book, I read your reviews...
Who knew a champion could sit so far away?
Coy with a baseball bat
And lashes that stuck together like gum.
If we're all going to hell
We might as well walk on the sun.

Monday, February 21, 2011

Set The Table With Tuning Forks

I like the way you give up on life
And how the text screen breaks out in color.
This is the way in code we speak,
Whose encryption is a description
Of how well those secrets will keep.
You were contained in rainbows
That broke on the shoreline,
You are the sun that drowns by night
You are the sound of shattered light.

Sunday, February 20, 2011

That 90's Punk Rock Feeling

You breathe your own bitter beat and you try to put the songs down,
But you realize you don't know what memory you're looking for.
The titles become lost possessions with their rights still intact
For the chorus that will live forever to never give the coda back.

Listening To Our Bad News

And I wave to our past with a severed left hand,
The ghost feeling when it gets caught on your shoulder.
Maybe it was kept inside my sleeve to keep me quiet
And stop the bleeding of words onto a number of media,
The paper that tapers off in an incomplete thought
Or the plastic pulled apart and distraught, but store-bought.
We're either cutting down hurried trees or drilling up buried oil,
But I'm okay with how the world burns at the end of the day,
Because I remember when you used to talk to me like a stranger
And I am clever enough to keep myself out of danger like so.

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Bomb Dropper Mystery Video Screen

Count the curses stuck between your teeth
As hot air gushes out of your mouth.
Tonight, I corrupt my childhood with
The reason I don't know why I'd ever go so far.
Remember this is something you live with forever,
You'll feel surprised when your heart drops
And your numb hand is on the lever.
For something I put all my weight into,
I have never felt more heavy,
And when a glutton's stomach rumbles
It is the rubble coming down around me.
You speak well with your eyes closed
Your voice floats steadily through the wires,
The glass keeps me tethered to my misperception
That the deception comes from preaching to the choir.

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Pacifists and Computational Tanks

When the day met you on the other side,
It was with warmth and a memory in storage.
The sky turned into a boundless vineyard
And the sun crushed grapes against your perfect skyline.
The cityscape began to remelt into the river the was reborn
As a promise you had sworn to yourself in sun-dried naïveté.
So you felt compelled to do it once again
Under the trusses of your fading consciousness.
You plucked your ribs apart, still somewhat in tune
And pulled that warmth in that never felt too soon.

Liquid Stressors

Swallowing keeps me speechless when my mouth isn't full
Hands cover my mouth as I argue with the atomic clock,
Waiting for it to divide my time peacefully,
But instead I am popping red opal fruits like pills.
I think I'm going for the sugar high,
But my wings are scrapping the icy sidewalk.
Since when were we expected to walk so imbalanced?
Since when was I suspect to have such kind of talents?
I'm just starry-eyed boy working off of dim moonlight
Who was told he could shine, but just never too bright.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Getting That Intuition

I've got an excuse in every pocket that keeps my hands dry.
Each breath for every word only seems to melt snow,
Your tongue's knots come untied from the most intimate speech
And your thread loses count as you unravel out of sleep.
You sink into the sweet objectification, an oil painting of fruits
More valuable than reality and the calamity that is truth.
I taste the sugar crusted over on the corners of my lips,
The frigid air could never shake me from your mercenary quips.

Monday, February 14, 2011


And everybody kept calm as the plane went down.
Cigarette butts were mashed on the oxygen bar
And an occupied room made magic with smoke and mirrors,
But little did I know that I wouldn't
An that there was no way to flush it out.
The sky was jammed with cotton like a pill tube
And our ears popped like the cylindrical nirvana
That kept us irrelevant to gravity's intentions.
A body that bathed in scentless lavender
Was all tied up with a symmetric bow,
For a gift best left ungiven.
A day that went by just comfortably fine.
A final descent that was inertially driven.

Sunday, February 13, 2011

It's okay if you're still searching.

Throwing down some heavy vignette,
We push inebriation to its darkest edges.
It fit like a sock and you rocked down the hall
Like your parents would never come home,
But now you're the own that has grown.
The toast clinks when you sink into glass
That makes a delicate spread of time's passage,
When you see what's been running around inside
What mixes to make the lightheaded stage.
The bed is under hot focused flares
And I'm igniting in my sheets.
I'm working for a dream,
Because don't wanna wake up to a nightmare,
And if I'm burning up, I'm just gonna climb higher.

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Trailing Peace

We're coming up to the junction now,
Without a function of how fondness relates to freight.
I'm dragging two fingers to keep my weight down
While I'm going up to make sure all the doors are flush.
No, we don't want them to see what we've been hiding
Whose vibrations arouse a most precise collision,
That annihilate in silence with defiance, god-given.
A temporal temperance meets a deviation
Pushing clocks against a rail hurling steel at him.
Two fighting siblings and a mediator, respectively:
Optimism, Pessimism, and Realism.

Friday, February 11, 2011

Coupled Copies

There is no right when no one is left,
Hands down, you've been disarmed.
They've got a good balance,
Girls up front with upright backs.
I'm trying to avoid every question
But frankly, no one ever asked.
Instead we got past the full awkwardness
In three-fourth's time, with a cheap disco ball
And a stranger against my chest.
We never made a name to remember,
Not even a chance to tell each other our lies.
Our clips floated down from a gunslinger's song
A harmonica drawn to etch away a shallow night.

Thursday, February 10, 2011

The Water Bomb

The genesis lives on as the remnants of today,
The rain that comes in and washes more away.
When we met, it avoided every vein,
Contested by the blood invested in me
From bets that went beyond the meaning of my name.
But we are the filter between heaven and hell,
And we grow from splitting water and ejecting every shell.
Their exit makes an open wound between my lips,
A turbulent trip for a ghost to spend the evening
Whose deltas fracture rivers to dead leaves on a tree;
If this life is current, don't let it lose me to the sea.

Wednesday, February 9, 2011


I don't remember how I got here.
Deep in conversation in the wading pools,
Scratching the surface from the rough edges
That kept me cautiously inside.
Say something to me again,
Speak your vocabulary in oscillations
That hug and confine your vocal range
As well as your lungs will let you,
Still trapped in their local cage.
I'm not one for commitment but
I'm glad that this happened before the ring.
The travesty of stacking paper
Is a house made all the same.
This is my carbon fascination
Committing completely to the game.

Remelted Iron Core

This throwback is being thrown back too far
For a boomerang that didn't ring
And knocked straight through the door,
The thunder to our reign.
When it comes down, we are all liquid
When it soaks through the soil,
I promise we'll be in deeper.
We'll be up against the door
Locked, warm, kept by our keeper.
It is our imprisoned leap
That makes the climb up so much steeper.

Monday, February 7, 2011

The Dampening System

A shower restarts the cycle,
A new agenda and a new outline
Mapped out on a foggy mirror
Overlapped on your own blurring projection
As it dissolves into steam.
The floor plan's irrelevance comes to light,
When you're pressed tightly on the ceiling,
Condensing all your feelings into drops
That fracture the
incandescence completely.
The cycle burns the indescribable color on your closed eyelids,
That exists, even when it comes back together in the end,
Warmth, blind guidance's reassurance,
Reaching out with sincerity,
But not necessarily seeking out a meaning.
This existence is only human, the fascination of human being.

Need To Deliver

The ground bends to come up to me,
Look at what it's giving up.
Her jaw dropped in accommodation
To the words that were spoken,
Accelerating realism and spectra
That only dissolved in the end.
This storm is a constant thunder
That shakes the amnesia
From the stakes put in the ground.
Tie me down to a parachute
And tuck me safely in the boat,
Perspective's tearing straight in half,
But the captain's mouthing, "Go."

Saturday, February 5, 2011

Saving Ephs

Of the things that went out the window when I walked out the door,
Some never change from what made them original.
The conditional state is traditional,
But I must say I've done the same to you.
And it's a thing you hate to see
When you find the things you buried in the backyard,
With prefixes that fixed them to the ground
When gravity didn't know what to do with them.
I'll make my dream and I'll take you with me,
But you have to promise not to fall asleep in the car.
My brother's blood was on my arm and it was still warm,
The salt chalked over from something he would die for.
I regret having left before he could catch his breath,
But this was something that could never be let go.

Friday, February 4, 2011

Quiet Black Ice

Take a stone tablet and you can build a society based on rules,
But you couldn't build a roof.
You couldn't give me proof,
Because your touch was no longer muscle memory,
Your spirit was a conjecture and your body was its projection.
Baby, it's exactly what you are.
Being reserved won't give you your protection
From those wide-sighted racketeers,
Those garbage can bangers narrowing truth down in your ears,
And facetiousness won't put the gavel in your hand,
This is not wisdom, it's getting older with a period at the end.

Thursday, February 3, 2011

Perspective Shooter

It took years in powder smoke to find out
That six goes into pairs,
And you'll watch them break sequentially.
Don't pick your bullets off the ground.
As tempting as the shell games may be,
The revolver must serve its purpose
And move on.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

any more, any more | ever know, ever know

I heard one voice spill her sermons like a swollen sea,
A lullaby that smothered the sand repeatedly,
And tickled my toes like well buried weeds.
My guidance closed their eyes and fell asleep in genuflection
But I could still see your face in the marble's reflection
As I pressed my head against the pew,
Wondering when it would go through as you did with ease
When you as teased the most pleasant frequencies.
But no matter how many words filled my hands
Clasped tightly, these knees wouldn't unbuckle.
This condensation was the devil's kiss
Of my own, he wanted to bathe me.
That salt on my skin was the fresh water's sin
And your rivers and lakes wouldn't save me.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Wood Grain Bursting

How much can you push up against it?
Is it cracking under or clapping for your achievements?
This is the agreement between cartilage and shaky air.
I hope if this finds me, it won't leave me there,
Perusing between doors and walls unknown
That twist to sides in or out of windows.
Let's not look up and just walk through slow,
It's teasing to look back on splinters
In the winter, it's easy to catch a cold.
Have faith, see straight, motion sickness will fade,
We're bumming through the thickness, we're coming of age.