its only the last time

Dont cry, dont cry, i swear he meant no harm

the close of 2 years well spent draw nigh
and 2 more from now you'll let a sigh
but 2 more 2 more and every year from then
will turn the edges of your mouth on end
and the way you feel now
is a testament to how
much you have loved and been loved in return
but just the tip of the iceburg the love you will earn
smile in fours because ones not enough
dont lock the doors to your heart to be tough
you fail and you fall and you get up again
but soon you won't fall
flat on your face, the tears well up
dripping like from a cracked cup
no, soon you'll find the strength to stand up and wipe away pain
its only the last time, from here on is gain.

MOOD red orange yellow green blue INDIGO violet

Whats there to say except start over?
when the time has come to pass
when the future came to fast
when everything around you is about to crash
And flowing from your mouth
are the same old lies and tricks
you tell yourself at night when you're in bed.
So much depends on a red set of lips
that stop your heart
that halt your tracks
that makes you take a second glance
Feet stuck in mud
life stuck in park
and getting outs as simple as shifting into drive
but harder than swimming out of quicksand
it takes a death of sorts to come back to life
three days in the belly of the beast
three wishes from a lamp
three strikes and your out
and then its time for a seventh inning stretch.

Splitting hairs until it comes undone

Its Christmas time again
the wind whipped her lips and his
stinging their faces and drying their tears
the two figures stood out in the cold
it was all he could do to keep from kissing her
and the gap between them widened
no more soft outlines in golden moonlight
just jagged edges, sharp feelings
and a tension
not to draw together but repel away
a reversal of polarities on a sub polar day
her eyes off his and their eyes apart
the ground filled his vision and she filled his thoughts
or the way she was
since her figure was a rapidly shrinking shape
in the fog of snow and increasing darkness
black and white and salt and ice
its sadness, its inability, its stubbornness
its irreconcilable,
it was love.
Its Christmas time again.

Roger and Amy

This is their story
Roger and Amy
born in the spring of '86
Though they were strangers
they soon would find out
that they were meant to find each other
Oh theyre neighbors
her parents moved in from Decatur
and in the summer they would swim together
By fall their best friends
and school would start then
First day of grade school in a rainstorm
Huddled together
eating their crackers
Roger turned to Amy and said "I love you"
Oh three simple words
he didn't know what he was saying
but it would stay with her until she...
The years they would pass
they grew up so fast
said all the people "They're inseparable"
But like all good things
Roger and Amy
would let their friendship fall on hard times
Oh its Highschool
Roger's in love with other girls
And though she wouldn't say it Amy was so sad
Its winter formal
both now were seniors
and Roger was asking just one person
Its winter formal
Amy done waiting
said yes to the boy in her math class
Oh its Love
Amy and her boy would cut a rug
and though he wouldn't say it Roger was so mad
And two years later
in a Ford Ranger
that boy would finally pop the question
She called up Roger
to tell the good news
that she and her man were getting married
Oh he faked it
Roger said congratulations
he had wasted time and couldnt hold it back
So on a spring day
before the wedding
Roger and Amy ate together
He said "remember"
"On that first day"
"When i told you that i loved you"
Oh the silence
Amy started to cry then
She said "you're way too late, and I am getting married"
In his depression
He started thinking
about all the good times they had growing up
And how he squandered
his time with Amy
there would not be a happy ending
Oh the summer
the time when they became not quite lovers
Roger and Amy would never speak again

Nothing to write home about

Light light light
I want my light to shine
A resounding wave to flow out
and let my voice be heard
Write write write
Lord let me find the right
let me sleep at night
so i can find delight
Why cant i write write write
of find my light light light?
Up and down and green and black
houses and chairs and leavs all around
and books and pens and music and time and blue and red
and months and states of being and towers encased in crystal
and mice and men and glue and birdhouses and checks and cameras
and days at the beach, and nights at the beach, and life in the suburbs
and blessings and curses and ups and downs and scales and measures
and life and death and dust to dust and heaven and hell and beginning and end
and love and hate and records and baseball cards and shoes and papers
nothing to lie about, nothing to write about.

smokey sunday

A flame is dancing in the desert just like always,
not a halloween as passed without a fire
and from out of the flames comes new life
Flowers will bloom and the rivers will flow
But the fire will have left its mark.
And burn so bright it hurts too look.
And rage so hot it hurts to touch
A girl was dancing in the flames
and loves so much it hurts much too much
her hair was free and so was he
to burn to a crisp.

emo approved first person

Can you see beyond the tip of your own nose?
or has your ego so clouded
your judgement, so touted
is your knowlege and i bet
you think that your tastes are well honed.

Well here is the truth so understand where im coming from
you've lost touch with the audience
as a result of your bias
toward things your own age
and older, sing songs of your praise
to the past for a raise
and maybe even convince yourself some of its good.

Its clear from your voice
that by your own choice
you ignored the possibility of letting it in
its like you took a look at the cover
and wrote down your review
so others who trust
you will write off this work
and fall into the trap of self righteous assurance
that all that is good, has already happened
and everything new is just a tribute to them.

You played the pied piper for too long and now
ill make it my goal to free them from your spell
and show them what they missed and what new is to come
all from the guise of emo approved first person.

looking through not looking: the lovesong of the loveless

On my back
the streets are slick this time of year
an anticpated first rain has caused me some pain
looking up to the heavens
and finding more rain

And puddles expanding
with every last drop
and children splashing
in every last puddle
a war has been waged that only streetlights will stop

Strange things happen when you lie horizontal
like screeching tires
avoiding my body
it would ruin their day

Theres room for two out here on the pavement
though no one has joined just yet
So i'll wait a little longer
patience is a virtue, but impatience has its moments

Time is fluid and simple on the day of a storm
Its dark and then light and then dark again
its night and then day and then night again
but the sun never rises or sets

My clothes are soaked straight throught to my skin
its cold
and its wet
but its comfort lying down

Strange things happen when you lie horizontal
when your covered in water
but exposed to the rain
Theres not a feeling or word that will help me explain
how it feels on my back, on a road, in the rain, in pain, waiting for answers, waiting for partners, waiting to get run over, waiting for streetlights, waiting to wait, and for what?
More Rain.

the happiest place on earth

I wrote this one a long time ago and i when i re-read it, i was taken back to how i felt on that day and for that reason i think this poem is worth something.

the happiest place on earth

I swear i'm the ugliest person alive
before me the world looked better
Sometimes there's nothing for me to strive
And theres nothing that could change that in this letter

Truly devastating, this state of being
Depressed and cold, a gray overtone
nothing as bright as it should be
never a sign of hope will i see

I'm drowning in the happiest place on earth
But no one will know 'til it's too late

The Fireworks light up the sky
fresh faces of lovers all intertwined
They draw closer together
like as if they were cold
And whisper their thoughts to the ones that they hold

And while riding high on the afterglow of the night
they still grasp each other and smile in delight
Yet her I sit fat and alone
Not a person to care for or call on the phone

20 years minus a revelation

Brown lacquer finish
with smudges and handprints.
My guitar.

Worn frets dirty
and old strings out of tune
My father's.

Sweet sounds aloud
played with care and love
My aspirations.

Slammed door shut
keep the world outside
My studio.

Sweet sorrow played
lungs fill with air and exhale
My regret.

Warm sleepless nights
Mind and eyes kept on hourly watch
My shame.

Long lasting music
Songs in the shower sung unconscious
My redemption.

Midday Blues and Other Jazz Musings

Stomp my foot to the beat
as the sounds rise to my ears like heat from the ground
you can feel the musician in the notes
every strain from the horn denotes a pain in his life
Hang my head in disgust
in this oppressive heat your woes seem a little worse
i feel sick to my stomach but its not caused by illness
and every tick on this keyboard is a beat of my heart
Fold my arms to appear engaged
its getting harder and harder fein a smile for strangers
though i doubt it fooled anyone anyhow, anyone who cared
every time i fake a laugh i forget how it feels to want to
Raise my fist to take a stand
I wont let it go on like this,
having every ray of light blocked by a grey cloud
this year, this moment, this verse will be different
ill wipe the rain from my eyes see life for what it is
yet every time i make this promise i fear the inevitable
you can only bend a note so far before it isnt right
Maybe ill just stomp my foot to the beat

Happy Alone

Two birds in love and not wanting to be selfish
offered their song to me so i would join in the chorus
I politely declined citing my being content
with the melody of my life
"I'll sing my song solo, until the right one hears it"
Only wishing the best, one bird took offense
to my refusal, and insisted that I look for love before its too late,
"Too late for what?" i say, "I'm young and not in a hurry."
"You'll miss the chance if you continue complacent" the one bird said
"You need to be certain of nothing and live in the now"
Live in the now? Don't you realize I am?
Right now i'm happy alone, maybe not forever
but for now
With that the two birds became distracted again
with their own love song to argue their point.

Love, love, love (introduction to the notion)

Its the feeling you cannot ignore
When the world is so small and limitless
Smile on the face of mankind
The color is in the air, the taste is on your tounge
Its both unspoken and understood
And anticipation is at a peak
Because the end of summer excites its emotions
heightened by the promise of new life
Love
It sweetens the air and ignores hardship
More than worth all the trouble it causes
And im almost there, i can feel it

Brillo Sin Rayas

She told me to get a good nights sleep
"Clear your mind and call me in the morning"
Disagreements and fights led me to this place
So have a ball while you can
cause play time's over
and growing up is near
You can't understand it
and i won't explain my actions here
Why is talking to you like pulling teeth?
like trying to hold your breath til you sink
We've been holding on to something gone
So make escape while you can
I think im making a comeback
don't come with me

Love is Confusion is Love.....

In the habit of old time tradition
I feel I must tell of another condition
which plagued me now since I was quite young
and perhaps only hurts like my arm getting stung
by a spider who spun her web of perdition
trapping a boy in an act of contrition

Love it seems will escape for the moment
but allow me this time for a frustrated slow vent
life would be easier if not for the wanting
to find someone special, a sense of belonging
yet somehow we think that through gifts and warm kisses
our troubles wont matter with the promise of a Mrs.

Like sheep to a slaughter we are drawn to our fate
to depress and confess 'til our love turns to hate
and we think to ourselves, "what has happened to us?"
while we play stupid games and deceive for their trust
dating, I think, is just a series of lies
as we make ourselves out to be more than just guys

So "what is the point?" a smart person would ask
"If we try to find love but must wear a mask?"
"The point" I would say with fervor and conviction
"Is we all strive for happiness though writing a fiction"
But don't let technicalities keep you at bay
Because I wouldn't have it any other way

Plus I'm just venting and not making much sense
like painting a carpet or vacuuming a fence

Pour Your Soul :ode to tierney (counterpart to ode to martinez)

The smoke from our mouths rises to the ceiling
dissipating far before it hits the top
Not unlike the conversation itself
Which hits my ears but dissipates without true meaning
Yet how sweet it is
A cool evening breeze hits my face as we walk outside
Betraying the heat that came before it
Its moments like these that time will forget
but our lives will reflect
Its good friends like these, that may not remain
but will always be there
Pour out your soul, like it means something to you
because in no time at all
our youth will be in dreams
and our friends will be in memories

Love love love (prologue)

(this poem is yet to be posted)

Give me a reason to stay awake

Cool air and clear nights, with my hand out the window
I am driving
The lights and sounds are just a blur and the moon is so bright
Ive got a quarter tank left but i feel im on empty
And running on fumes has gotten me tired
More so than the sleep i miss through restless nights
and lonely thoughts in the twilight of my conscious
To wake every morning with nothing worth staying up for
id fall asleep and waste my life just to avoid being awake and aware
of all i'm missing and missing out on
Rest is all i ask for
In the darkness i am lost, reading a map without any light
the signs in front warn of a dead end
and i dont think i can turn around
Im sure if i stop i will have nothing left to start again

The way nothing feels

Wind swept fields of grass and quiet brooks with soft sands
Smoke rose in the distance and the grass had not a chance
The fire burned with a passion like love
and engulfed the meadow in a relentless inferno from above
Not a seed was left nor a log unburned
Not a tree was left standing or stone overturned
Just the brook in silence and sands underneath
Now threatened by the sun and its relentless heat
that sucked out the life from the clouds in the air
and chased away hope from the ones in its care
and the brook dried up till the only remains
were the soft sands at the bottom and the trail they made
Now the newly formed desert waits for healing over time
With the memory of days made sweeter through rhyme

Caught up in a Whirlwind

Oh Lord where are you
when we cry and cry but no help arrives?
Our houses are shambles and our sons are drowned
Swept away to never be seen again
He takes and He takes.
Doubt is the thought that comes from black swamps
and anger the logic driving us to look to the heavens
only to curse and rebuke
the one surely responsible for such a travesty
or if He is even there
then where is He now
when we need Him the most?
Man must help man
with hands around shovels and eyes to the ground
Amidst all the pain and suffering wrapped up in complaining
did we stop to wonder if maybe He was helping?
That the reason the skies did not answer or help not arrive
was because God used man to help man
with shovels in their hands and their eyes to the ground?
Is it any wonder that God would not speak
when man only looks up when their outlook is bleak?
He gives and He gives

I hate being happy (or so I tell myself to curb my disappointments)

One broken string is all it took
the day is so gloomy and humid a month after June
and I couldn't be happier to tell the truth
I've had enough sunshine without any warmth
so why not isolate myself by a fire
and forget the world outside
a world well on the way to passing me by
I peek out the window to see the gray sky
and watch as it washes the color out of trees and mountains
there's a purity in white light permeating my bedroom
not tainted by red sunsets or blue skies
how can I not find solace in a scene so depressing
no laughter in the water or bicycle chains clicking
I hear nothing but the gentle breeze through the dreary trees
and my own sad satisfaction
Oh, how I wish the clouds would clear!

The Dive

Its a long way to the bottom
and i owe it to you everyday
i do
You left me hanging lover
and it hurt me to the bottom of my heart
its a tragedy
And i want to thank you baby
for abandoning
You see i couldnt have fallen half as fast
without you riding me
I finally got back on my feet
and sunset of my life is turning dawn
its a brand new day
Then who do i see but the demon of me
strutting down the street in high heeled shoes
to try to take me down
well i ran so fast in my bare feet
i left a streak of light
Because ive seen the bottom and i know for a fact
once is more than enough

Take the old with the new..

Here are a few older poems I wrote a long while ago. Some are unfinished, but its kinda cool to actually look back at old writings and remember how I felt when I wrote them. I actually like some of it.

Who Are We Kidding?

Who are you kidding?
Hiding behind your fashioncore glasses
Put on a fissad meant for the masses
You might fool the many
but was it worth a penny
to lose the effect of your beautiful eyes
hidden so well with your fashion chique' disguise

Who are we kidding?
Wearing our masks to please a crowd
or letting ourselves be know with voices so loud
If we could only stop and see
In complete silence we'd finally be
and not a point is lost or goes unheard
with our true faces now free as a bird


Tired of Running

Patience is a virtue, or so I hear
I wait and I wait, only to fear
That I might never achieve this gift from above
I may live my whole life and never find love

Without fail or exception every time
When I have a chance to finally climb
Out of my rut, It's not too long
'til that door is shut and im writing a song

Someday, somwhere, somehow, with someone
I hope to finally end this and be done

Film on a reel

It's amazing how far you'll go
before you realize where you are
How I arrived i'll never know
But ive been here before
Like a mouse on a wheel
I'm working hard but going nowhere
like a scene on a reel
My time comes and goes in a blink
The truth is, I see the world, ever in motion
But do they see me?
What am I missing? some magic potion?
How am I invisible, can i be seen?


Monuments

I'm slipping, crawling, barely moving

Reaching for a handhold, but gripping nothing
The feeling is sharp like the cut of a knife
The feeling you get when you're sliding through life.

The Sweetest Librarian

I've yet to find my full potential
I feel as though I'm missing something
so I take a trip
to the public library for some knowledge
Surrounded by bounded works of art
Isle after isle of book after book
I wonder if anyone has ever read them all
I tend to doubt it
A tap on the shoulder reveals
a girl with square rimmed glasses
and I am staring into them
and I wonder what she's saying
cause I haven't heard a word
since she started talking
The sweetest librarian
Please tell me a love story, "you'll find it in fiction"
she says, the sweetest librarian
Going home, I find myself
not caring what I checked out
She's in my mind now, all the time now
and the due dates on these books
is the 24th
and its just a couple more days til I will come back
So please tell me a love story, "you'll find it in fiction"
she says, the sweetest librarian

among the universal truths: 14 year old girls ruin music

And if I said what I was thinking
would you turn away in disgust
I dont blame you
Why dont you let me take that coat miss
no need to thank me it's my job
please take a seat
I've met strange people
and even stranger words I know
truth is in a bottle
but it's distorted by the glass
so wont you open up the cap
and let it out
Let me say what i've been thinking
girl you ruined me so fast
who's fault is that
Theres the door i'll see myself out
I wont ask you now to stop me
so take the hint
I've met strange people
and even stranger words I know
the strong will find a way out
and the smart will follow suit
but the weak drown in their doubt
and they are doomed
We all are doomed..

we can skip the first date, all you need to know is in my "about me"

I think i would love you if ever i met you
I feel like ive known you for longer than tom
i share in your love of all things ben gibbard
and its cool that you've heard his unreleased songs

The things you have written, to me, give you hue
and the green in your backround really brings out your eyes
or so i would think if your pic was in color
and the mirror that you posed in was replaced by blue skies

Your friends tell a story of how your day went
ranting about coffee and things heard in the street
the jokes still alive, still immersed in the moment
your face says you're normal but your tastes are elite

And if ever i met you i think we'd hit it off
we'd bring out our records and watch the film Annie Hall
and as we sat and laughed at Alvy Singer's neurosis
i'd be happy as a clam and for you i would fall

If, and only if, i ever meet you at all

late nights and graduations

It seems the last rays of light will always find their way
through leaves and around fences
before hitting my eyes in a dazzling display

the evening is warm and grass enviting
the music has died while the crowds disperse
but the urge is to stay and see what the night brings

the company, some known, others awaiting introduction
their attention is fleeting and hard to capture
like a sea of new faces alive and in motion

she's beautiful tonight as if this sunset were the reason
a new dress and new shoes
a new feeling of attention and hair like a leaf in the autumn season

its hard not to notice as the setting sun plays its trick
with light and dark in a hypnotic tango
but i never see the dance because i can't hear the music.

we'll always have bookstores.....

connection and the moment of truth
our eyes met and the only thing i could think of was you
the world around me vanished into backround
it was like we two were the only people on earth
the conversations around us blend together
creating the music that serenades this moment
your hair dances in the wind
your eyes light the sky
and your smile...
your beautiful smile warms my heart
in such a way that the sun itself is envious
if all God's creation sings of His greatness
your note could make an atheist preach
but when the signal is lost
and the contact is broken
when i rejoin reality
and adjust my focus
ill still be thinking of you
i cant help but be thinking of you
like opening a camera and exposing the film
your image has been burned into memory
and my mind is ruined for anything else

two sillouettes (the art of young love)

the room is spinning like the gears of a clock
its gotten so late but it doesnt matter
time stopped the first time you saw her
it seems like a lifetime and a day ago
all one in the same
the room is silent from the end of conversation
the only sound now is beating of hearts
its the art of young love
so delicate and innocent
the moment is all that matters
two sillouettes outlined in soft moonlight
her eyes in his and their eyes locked
so subtle is the movement
that both are startled by the closing gap
when their lips finally meet
no more beauty in all of nature
than when a pair of youthful lovers
lose sight of all else
and kiss as if tomorrow would never come
and yesterday never happened

blue

Walking around on a warm spring day, back and forth and too and fro, an aimless wander with no direction, surrounded by people on all sides yet so alone, but its a sentiment shared by all, a woman looks at me and laughs, she lost a love so long ago the headstone has faded, in stark contrast was her memory of him, as fresh as the flowers she left that morning, rising up carried by a staircase, the top holds nothing new, just a mirror of the bottom, but so much closer to the light, sitting down at a table meant for more, the empty chairs say more than the one in use, across the way three friends enjoying each others company, they talk about the future, something they all have so much of, at the same time the end of an era, in a year they might not remember the things they said today, in the last leg of pointless journey, the beginning's the end and the middle is behind me, before i leave a girl confronts me, "do you like the color blue", she asked so intensely, "is that the color of your eyes", "no" i think "its just the hue of my mood".

Not really sure if that was a poem or short story.

Doesn't anybody stay in one place anymore?

Id be lying if I never said a word to you, and like the heat escaping away into the night, once our time is up I'm stolen away with the sunset, no ground can be gained if your not willing to risk, reading books upon broken monuments to kings of the past, a sunken ship in a frozen green pasture with its bow to the heavens, the people cry out but to no avail because they cant be seen, they never existed, all this surrounds one so beautiful, her song brought the ship aground, her love crumbled the will of sovereigns and now their dust feeds the field, all the while I cry out as if I was moments from a certain fate, I scream to the point that my voice is a whisper, and until I have none my voice will be heard, she's worth that much, more than the world itself, Sara you're so beautiful so please hear my voice, Sara save me from silence, save me from sinking, save me from sunset.

the loneliest place is with friends (reprised) or the car ride from hell

So staring at lights as they bounce off the roads,
from the newly wet streets in foreign zip codes,
i think to myself as if to converse,
with a friend who might understand our curse,
there is in my life an unreachable goal,
a cliff too steep or infinite hole,
my reverence and admiration are sincere in intent,
but doubt and cynicism conspire against me in contempt,
i saw a smile so warming it melted my fears,
but the heat soon lifted and cold sorrow interferes,
its like looking at the world without a lens,
i cant see clarity or beauty, in turn i pretend,
so sitting in this car as we travel through the rain,
the only thing to comfort me is the reminder of pain,
as the sun tries piercing the clouds to tell time,
im reminded of my loss and ends her rhyme,
i miss the way you used to laugh,
for me and only me,
never to change or so i thought,
before i was lonely,
now never is forever and forever today,
whenever i see you i keep feelings at bay,
i belie the way my heart has so sunk,
now comes the urge to lock myself in the trunk.


On a lighter note im actually not as depressed as these poems suggest. I just use past and present expieriences and feelings to inspire the words that i could never say to anyone through speech. Whether or not that means i actually write anything worth reading is really not what i am after. I just wanted an outlet.

the city must be the glitz and glamour i want it to be...

Color and reflection blend with one another, creating a sight that reminds me of lovers. Apart they are wonderful and complete on their own, together they meld into a perfect mold. Or so it should be or remains to be seen, as cracks over time work their way into seams, which slowly but surely and on that you can count, crack and chip away the pieces until little doubt, remains that this piece so exquisite as one, will become seperate parts once the fracture is done, and the two which were wonderful and complete all alone, now look worn out and dull without hue or tone, no longer useful or a sight to behold, all that is left is to become old. Such is the tragedy of unlucky love, like a shattered ceramic dropped from above.

the last thoughts of a defeated man

i let out a sigh and breathe deep, i must have lived a lifetime in two seconds, all my hopes and aspirations, it was the best thing that never happened to me, you were the best thing, or rather you were, i could never make it past that word, now I'm twice as slow and half as clever, and with regards to you i can see only never, you left me without even knowing it and all the cushions in the world couldn't curb my discomfort with how i let my glance stray for a second while we drifted apart, that was a year ago and I've been inhaling water ever since, all this for a glimpse and a split second memory, but drowning feels like heaven when im thinking of you.

this is meant to be what it needs to be....

The sky must be made for clouds and every day gloomy, it rains harder and harder until rock becomes mud. Sun's rays ne'er a chance, the soil is sick and so is my heart. The sounds and smells dull and muted, a soggy wet map to guide one through it. All is damp, all is cold, life has wilted, become old. Puddle after puddle, drip after drop, dust to dust. Nothing was meant to live under these conditions, no not one. Yet year in, year out, i remain, rejected, pondering, wondering, questioning, is this love? Was this how it was going to feel to hold it in? I think the sky must be made for clouds.

THAT WAS terrible.

Snow

To have grown up in Southern California is to not know weather. Today it snowed and it incited excitement i haven't had since i was 10. There is something about snow falling from the sky that makes me want to enjoy life. Its the kind of weather that i should have this time of year, not clear sunshine or sporatic rain. In this weather i can sit with my Ipod and read a book or sit by the fireplace. Homecooked meals taste better, the family gets along better, i get to wear a hoodie without being emo. For once i actually feel crazy wearing shorts in the winter. Maybe i forget about school or friends or relationships. I wish it would snow everyday.