| # 52 - Sing Into the Microphone |
[Jun. 12th, 2004|11:23 pm] |
Let's play tambourines
and tend to my garden
you and me
eating fruit cocktail out
of the can.
Try on my mom's perfume, it
smells like heaven.
And then we'll fall asleep
watching AMC.
you and me
Eating fruit cocktail out
of the can.
Janis Joplin wrote a lot
of good songs.
Her and Bobby McGee.
But HTML
and love letters outside
Do it a lot better.
Jones Soda and fresh cut
fries.
You and Me.
Eating fruit cocktail out
of the can. |
|
|
| # 51 - The Indians Are Multiplying |
[Jun. 12th, 2004|11:22 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  tired | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Commercials...? | ] |
I'm happy again.
as Shane says -
I'm enjoying life.
I like baking in the sun.
No, really.
And I make complete sense,
too.
I understand life more.
when I smell cloves.
In fact, at
night sometimes - I fall
asleep by the
dishwasher smelling cloves
letting the water keep me
sane?
alive?
asleep? - unconscious.
Sigur Ros does a better job, son.
Cloves under my nails -
under my hands, and
wrapped in my arms.
Smoked more in your
life
than I've seen/smelt/
heard?
Mr. Silverladder.
A character.
Mr. Clove Smoker.
Smoker Smoking
under my nails.
And, sir - I hope you know that
my index finger is made of steal - like Italians.
Excuse me a
moment while I
borrow your
camera and take
ridiculous photos of
myself snorting cloves
like cocaine because
the world makes
sense that way. (I think I'll not wash this
shirt, too.
I want to saver this moment.) |
|
|
| # 50 - Miracle. |
[Mar. 17th, 2004|10:17 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  creative | ] |
| [ | music |
| | mom talking on the phone | ] |
I got perfume in my eyes
playing cards with you.
While we quickly drove down the interstate
police officer
police officer
police officer
You manage to sing me to sleep
while I hide
delicately under the sheets
ashamed of what I might be
There's a monster hidden up my sleeve.
Your butcher knife has been detected
Your trigger is flashing
behind my closet door
underneath my bed
and inside my drawers.
You're concerned
so am I
And I'd like to make sure that
you're fully aware of my-
burning holes into the mattress
while I conceive my anger
under the sheets
it's ablaze
under my sheets
not me. |
|
|
| # 49 - Watching You Bouncing |
[Nov. 17th, 2003|11:13 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  sick | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Tech TV | ] |
I was screaming laughter
I was crying joy
I was smiling at your slick moves
at your ability to be
so beautifully sneaky
at how I willingly
gave in so quickly
Then I smiled
at how busy you became
I even looked past constant criticism and lack of communication
lack of phonecalls
lack of letters
I giggled
at how your witty moves
danced around me like stoned balloons
at how I pretended to absorb it
how I pretended to take your words seriously
I grinned
at how your cute little advances
kept me captivated
I like how you're fully unaware
of how you've affected me
how you didn't care
because you thought I didn't
I love how I keep forgetting
to tell the truth
tell you how I find your
dreams and accomplishments having
to do with me
to be completely - utterly
wonderfully admirable
and I'm smiling large
and still offering to hold your hand
and play with your hair
because I'm captivated
at how you
got me to love
by beautifully
altering my sense of humor. |
|
|
| # 48 - Young, Electrocuted Males Named Edwin |
[Aug. 18th, 2003|02:01 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  productive | ] |
| [ | music |
| | The Flaming Lips - In the Morning of the Magicians | ] |
Someone licks my hand
As I attempt
To sleep
Someone taps my knee
While I nap in the park
Just a plain
Interruption
Charles Bukowski
Glued to my eyes
As I awake to a blur
Of my absence of knowledge
Even I
Cannot distinguish Elmer's
From generic
Shampoo my carpet
The eyeliner embedded
Is too much for mom
So simple.
Smile at my hard work
At my big step
From dark to neutral
No more Super Thick
Eyelashes
For this super deep little girl
Just Plain and Simple
Despite the fact
That boys are shallow
And don't like my choice
of pastels
And you know what
I too am a bit of a body of water
In my case
I'm too deep
If I let you in
I assure you
You'll drowned
It's a plain and simple
Death
Unfortunately
This is something I can not
Easily change
That I cannot easily fix
To be one of the 'normal'
Kids
I - instead
I am stuck in Africa
With something that keeps
Eating through my mind
And encouraging This horrid depth
That simply separates
You and I
I'm stuck in Africa
With something similar to AIDS
Eating away my insides
And keeping me here
I'm stuck in Africa
With a bunch of dead,
Full lungs
At the bottom of my body
And they won't go away
And my special case of AIDS
Is making room for more
As the management
Refuses to let
My deep water
Spill
It's plain and simple
My dam was not Built to Spill
and I am no
Distopian Dream Girl. |
|
|
| # 47 - The Windshield Wipers and Their Brilliant Escape |
[Aug. 18th, 2003|01:57 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | productive | ] |
| [ | music |
| | The Flaming Lips | ] |
I stole the doors off your car
And mounted them to my shower curtains
Door-handle oddity
Screws found in the drain
Diamonds are being discovered
Near the remains of your car
And the parts are disappearing
Like Harry Potter books
Because of my wrong doing
Oh - the glamour of the junk yard
You'll get all the ladies now
Oh - the fancy transmissions
Are chick magnets in the raw
All your dreams are coming true
Because of my sin
Because I took the doors
The telephone booth broke
Just as I was dialing the numbers
And trying to get through to you
Dear Sam -
Please send a self-addressed,
Stamped envelope
And I'll have your
Rearview mirrors
In the mail by Sunday. |
|
|
| # 46 - Please refrain From the Raspberries... |
[Aug. 18th, 2003|01:56 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | productive | ] |
| [ | music |
| | The Flaming Lips | ] |
I can see fireflies at noon
And you can't, maybe
They were bees.
Rising up from a much needed nap
You slide into a robe
And play records
That you bought
For far too much money
Solely because
Buying old records -
It's the cool thing to do now
Ripping grass under your palm
Widening the soil
And working out the roots
With your delicate finger tips
This is what life consists of
Anxiety attacks
Parents scream at their children publicly
Reading bad poetry
You pretend that it's good
Because horrid writing is cool.
Bees fly in your tea
And you go into a mad rage
Over Analog Roam
You're miserable
And currently suffering
From a severe case of brain freeze.
This is what life consists of
And strangely enough
You're scared of the bees. |
|
|
| # 45 - My Camouflage Barrettes have it Under Control |
[Aug. 18th, 2003|01:55 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | productive | ] |
| [ | music |
| | The Flaming Lips - Yoshimi Battle the Pink Robots, Pt. 2 | ] |
Sitting on the roof of your house
I think today might be it
Today, I shall turn into Santa Clause
Today I'm going to slide down your chimney
You're falling apart
And I can act as your glue
After I get down that chimney
I'll save you.
I have no chance
In becoming your super hero
You've got better things to worry about
Like LSD and supermodels
Where as I'm Kool-Aid
Where as I'm Raggedy Ann
I'm going to sit on your roof
(On the roof of your car)
And I'm not coming down
'Till you come up here
And address me as Santa Clause |
|
|
| # 44 - Help Me Assemble the New Auditorium |
[Aug. 18th, 2003|01:54 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | productive | ] |
| [ | music |
| | The Flaming Lips | ] |
Breaking into the boy's bathroom
I heard there's a broken fuse in there
And I think I can help
I'm pretty swift
When given A role
Of Electrical Tape
White walls
Aligned with square windows
Looking glass
Doors that lead to the campus's finest chem. Labs.
Florescent lights cure
The crying babies
By shoving them
In small brick houses
Lighted brightly at night
By kerosene lamps
Lit by the perfect American family
They're starting a revolution
With their professional PB and J's |
|
|
| # 43 - Sam is Full of Rage |
[Aug. 18th, 2003|01:53 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | productive | ] |
| [ | music |
| | The Flaming Lips - Yoshimi Battle the Pink Robots, Pt. 1 | ] |
Press your body against the cold cement
Gaze into the water below
Examine, thoroughly, the leaves
At the bottom of the pool
While wondering
If you think hard enough,
Will those weighted sheets of paper
Rise to the top?
Can they float again?
Will those passwords embedded into the plaster
Efface themselves?
And the telephone bills
The concert tickets
The marriage license
And the social security card
Are lost to my favorite body of water
I don't regret it
Swimming pools
Fail miserably
At serving as
My personal filing cabinet |
|
|
| # 42 - Poison |
[Jun. 30th, 2003|02:26 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | working | ] |
| [ | music |
| | SLR | ] |
Tiny caterpillars
Morph into tigers
When I say so
David Bowie
And the buzz of CD burners
Are dancing in my ears
Because I gave myself away
And money adds up
Jewel is suddenly
Britney Spears
And it all is falling apart
As the independent record stores
Discover that selling CD's
For dirt cheap
Won't make you much money
And it won't make you
Many rich friends
It's easier,
We're younger
Law suits and teddy bears
Morphed together
In the beautiful America
The adolescents found a better way
Our elder rock stars'
Descendants are your offenders
The kids revolt
The teens are the enemies
Of the corporate New York
You'll do anything
You'll trick us
And tell us we're going to the circus
Then miss the turn on the freeway
And help us suddenly find ourselves in court
Sue Bowie's kids
Because they listened
They listened first
And you want us to be
The last to listen. |
|
|
| #41 - Take Me to Cambodia in a Broken Jet |
[May. 17th, 2003|09:58 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  peaceful | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Elliot Smith - Angeles | ] |
I keep walking into the room next to me
Only to forget why I'm there
Twitching I lay here
Lifting my head every few moments
Peaking out from under the covers
Hoping that this time
I'll see something different
That there will be something new
Something that'll fix the holes in my sheets
And the holes in my shoes
I keep glancing outside
Hoping that the street will be flooded
Or something of the like
And I come to your house
To forget why I came
I fall asleep on your couch
In attempts to sleep away my shame
But nothing is ever how I want it to be
And in essence
I guess this nothing that keeps me company
Is better than nothing
As I smile through my tears
I softly beg you to stop
Trying far too hard
Not to give away my cover
Because your hands?
They give me nightmares
And I don't think I can bare it anymore
I don't think I can handle waking up
Drenched in my sweat
Shaking in fear
Carrying a baseball bat to the kitchen with me
And praying to God that you're nowhere near
Nowhere near to laugh at my tears
Nowhere near to make me feel inferior
So touch me, please
Keep me crawling on my knees
And I'll cling to nothing
Like it's going out of style. |
|
|
| # 40 - I Hope These Homemade Stitches Will Hold |
[May. 7th, 2003|11:02 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  worried | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Led Zeppelin - Ramble On | ] |
I'll need a needle and some thread
Don't forget your Doritos
And a good book
Might I suggest an encyclopedia?
Preferably published in 1970
Oh deary me, the Immigrant Song...
You're going to need something to keep occupied
This is going to be a long night
And if you don't stay busy
I'm afraid you might fall apart too... |
|
|
| # 39 - The Preschool Curriculum |
[Apr. 14th, 2003|08:06 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  sore | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Glassjaw - Pink Roses and the Graveyard | ] |
Sit still
While I tie your shoes
Soft pink mary-janes
And socks
Rimmed with white lace
The perfect look
For a five-year-old mailman |
|
|
| # 38 - Hitler Smashed My Cabbage-Patch |
[Apr. 6th, 2003|09:39 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | artistic | ] |
| [ | music |
| | John Coltrane | ] |
There's a disease
It's floating in the air
Hiding in all the emergency fire extinguishers
And under the sheets on which you sleep
And you know what?
It saved my life, Sam
It really did
In the depths of my fears
In the cries that sign my tears
This is where I find hope
There's a flame
It's spreading through the canvas
On which your make believe town
Has been painted upon
It's in the oil that you pump into your cars
It's in the sewage
And it stings
It's working its way to your local bank
Say hello to the new depression
Because the power of the process of elimination
Is taking over
There's a theory
Spreading through the text books that raid my mind
There's a thought
And I think that this time
It's the CIA and the Mafia
I swear, Sam
They're out to get us
They want to steal my dolls
They want to take my diary
And the voices in my head claim
That they're out for the middle C on my baby grand
And you know what?
It's in the air in which we thrive
And even though tremors are working their way
Throughout my insides
I'm still alive
And guess what
I think it's the mustard gas
That's doing all the work
It's saving my life, Sam |
|
|
| #37 - Scene Two: The Absence |
[Apr. 6th, 2003|09:38 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | artistic | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Duke Ellington | ] |
Day dreaming and dress up
As I run my fingers across the dresser
And tell myself to smile
Sitting here in my brand new clothes
And my perfect diamond earrings
I color on the walls
Of my make believe heart
Pretending that there's something there
That I actually feel it when you pinch me
I choked that last time i took a breath
A fly was sucked down my windpipe
And here i stand in my shined shoes
With my purse full of $100 bills
And my white gloves
That you slipped over my hands with care
i died two weeks ago
I promise I'm not lying this time
i just stuck around
Because I like to see the look on the face
When you see me coming your way |
|
|
| # 36 - Porch Lights Get Me Every Time |
[Feb. 22nd, 2003|01:09 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | working | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Pedro | ] |
Moonlight shines down on me
Through dark, compact clouds
It's light runs through me
Sending sudden jolts here and there
Creating visible cracks
Right down the middle of my body
And the rain
It's melting my skin
I think I'm on top of things
And have it under control
Now where do I dispose of my cloak? |
|
|
| # 35 - I Tend To Lie In Parking Lots |
[Feb. 22nd, 2003|01:08 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | working | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Pedro The Lion | ] |
I walked home today
I left my car
In your bedroom
I think you need to get out more
So I just left it there
For your sake
I didn't mention the lack of gas
But hey
It's there
And I put it there
Out of the goodness of my heart
It's next to your bed
Rammed into your dresser
I ran it through the window
Sorry about the dent in the wall
I think it can easily be repaired
But hey, don't mention it
I did it for your sake
I did it because I care. |
|
|
| # 34 - No More Jumping On The Bed |
[Feb. 22nd, 2003|01:07 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | working | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Pedro | ] |
I missed a spot shaving this morning
Razors just don't work like they used to
Neither do friends
Neither does the news
And if you leave me now
I'll never let go
Let's play a game
You're Mary Poppins
And a super hero
Here's where you rescue me
And stick me in my bag
Then pull me out when we get to safety
Because I'm distressed
Now give me some chocolate.
A lot of my writing lately doesn't make sense. Kind of like my life... |
|
|
| # 33 - I Broke...Again |
[Feb. 22nd, 2003|01:06 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | working | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Pedro | ] |
Apathy takes over
The midnight drama seeps from my mind
I sit here in utter silence
Mumbling nothings to myself
They always slip away
And I want to be a candle
I want to evaporate into thin air
I want to melt
I want to disappear with the lighting of a match
Why I'm still holding onto this stubble of a wick
I don't know
I should just let go
Let these bad times flow
Because eventually, they'll slip away
Break me
Watch me shatter
My whole being collapsing
Into a pile of rubble
This is I
Complete chaos
This is I
A pile of debris
Elmer's glue. |
|
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