11599844 - ProfilesArchive

About Me

we're tearing up this concrete jungle
so the vines can grow again.
mother nature's being strangled to death by progress.
we tried to meditate. we tried silence.
they throw more on us than we can hold
and we're so young but we feel so old.
maybe we're just not skilled enough
at the art of recycling.
words come quicker than we can write them
so we choose a quicker keyboard
and maybe we can type them.
our degree of comfort will soon be measured
in processor speed
if we don't find an outlet for our greed.
take back the night?
take back the right;
the right to bear arms.
your gun is your point of view.
fight for space for rhymes and for reason
before the erosion of the media destroys the good season,
whatever that may be
to you
to me
to he
to she.
to us:
us, to the what or bust?
we have enough to fix here
in this, our new year.
let us not be the ones who will look back at our regrets,
wondering, always wondering,
what can we afford to forget?
the burden of time has bounced all our checks
before our mouths even had the chance to cash them.
take back the night,
take back the right;
the right of way for the pedestrian
in this city of ideas and thoughts,
opinions and wasted breath.
so many are using our time to speak
while we get duped into listening,
into carrying dreams that weren't our own
while ours are buried under years of accepted silence.
no, we weren't forced, but we thought better than we could act,
while our brains were wracked,
gold mines for the mediocrity of this world's production.
what happened to real art?
the blood, sweat and tears of a grateful offering?
to life, not to the dollar.
not to the very time that holds us back.
where's the time that pushed us forward?
the time we see snatched away from us again and again?
donated, cremated, while we're seranaded with badly drawn
plans for a song that went wrong.
or a movie that never learned to stop when it should.
like it would. naturally.
we need deep breaths and well grounded steps
before we lose ourselves to the charade of believing
in something we had good enough taste to avoid
in our past existences.
persistences.
resistances.
now this must end, for the essence of time
has decreed we've had enough time,
for this,
for us,
for now:
peace.

My Blog

Second Hand Dove

she tries to teach me how to feed off your blood,but i got your back, son, so quit acting so tough.if you go when i say, if you jump when i jump,that split second there between us should be more than ...
Posted by on Fri, 02 Jan 2009 21:14:00 GMT

01100101

so send me out a message with your binary voice.let's make something great. let's not let it take,well too long.it's too long.and if we're allies open up your eyes,and see that there's nothing no one ...
Posted by on Fri, 02 Jan 2009 21:14:00 GMT

A Softer Version of the Truth

The Traveller

you try to travel farther than your mind can see.the eyes are everywhere and they won't let you be.just cause time is not an object you can pick up and feel,doesn't mean it can't be a heavy burden so ...
Posted by on Fri, 02 Jan 2009 21:13:00 GMT

RIP

It's good to know when not to listen.I'm doing my reconnaissance with a keyboard and a thought,reeling in new ideas for a better mentalityfor the people who want their tombstones to read:Lived well. D...
Posted by on Fri, 02 Jan 2009 21:12:00 GMT

Decon-Recon-structory Frustration Creation

Decon-Recon-structory Frustration Creationin uncommon time.I wake up when my dream collides with reality:A nights adventures in sleep, climaxing,as metaphors of yesterday and visions of the day to co...
Posted by on Fri, 02 Jan 2009 21:11:00 GMT

Dear Diary (from your designated driver)

disclaimer: the following was not written with the intent to hurt anyone who reads it. it was simply my own attempt to do something to distract myself from the sufferings of life. as with anything in ...
Posted by on Fri, 02 Jan 2009 21:10:00 GMT

Dealer’s Promise

Look at him:bones and muscles so weak you can actually smell my pheremones passing through him,a walking advert for my busy-ness.He knows not why he writes these words, in fact they are using him as a...
Posted by on Fri, 25 Jul 2008 07:05:00 GMT

Nightmare at the Helm Street

These dreames arescarin,airinme. Welearnin,Time andtime andtime some more.Seaweed, the floor.Build up your door.Sleep don't come cheapfor those who weepwith hands wrungsongs sungnow is undonereflexsub...
Posted by on Fri, 25 Jul 2008 07:03:00 GMT

Rhymes With Truth (Bullet Proof)

I'm giving you answerslike you wouldn't believebut I'm freezing to the marrowthough you wouldn't perceive itthis truth gives me patiencetell me can you believe itI'm goin easy on youbut too easy won't...
Posted by on Fri, 25 Jul 2008 07:02:00 GMT