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.