An Honest Question

How do they do it?

how do they just go to work every morning
how do they come home
and just doze off in front of a various assortment of screens

how do they repeat this cycle for so long
how do they sleep
knowing that tomorrow will just be more of the same

how do they just follow this path
how they die
with so little so show for

On this eve of the new year

On this eve of the new year
as darkness descends upon us
and the rockets start firing
when past is, for just a moment, forgotten
that one time when we can just focus on the present
and what's to come
That's when you'll see her
that one creature
that I desire
over all

Here's to the next calender
here's to her.

The End of Daydreams

I know I used to have them
Those long walks inside my head
strolling through the gardens of thought
a small walk besides the memory grove
feeling the winds of electrifying beaches 
and jumping through loops of neurons
hiding behind lumps of fat
hissing at other things like that

I don't have those anymore
some say it's the end of daydreams

Bedridden

These days when I wake up
I just stay in bed
and stare at a screen
sometimes it's a laptop
sometimes it's a television
but mostly it's phone
until I fall asleep again
I think I'm bedridden
in some strange 21st century kind of way

When The Water Turns Red

when the water turns red
and my veins start to appear again
when the dust is in the air
and my ears regain their sense of hearing

The soothing strange feeling of being intact
a small reward
and well worth it

her/everyday

i see her everyday
and every so often i think
this is the day
that i will finally be able
collect the necessary courage
to say "hi, i like you"
and not be terrified of what the answer will be

But that is not today...

Tedium

Everyday is the same
it's the same breakfast
the same show on the radio
the same news in the news
the carpenters are still there
there is still a mountain to climb
and another one is always right behind it as well

the same dinner
the same weather
the same McJob
the same McSchool
the same house
the same room
the same bed
the same dream.

Mr. Rye

gently fall apart
gladly light a spark
friends never lie
said the enemy of my enemy: Mr. Rye

Clogging the Tubes

Open the store
start the sale
your life is nothing without our style
so go brag about it on your wall
where friends pretend to care
but in reality are just clogging the tubes
that carry your current existence

Crowing Cock

Ingesting that red liquid
let it flow down
and ruin my bowel movements
let it flow down
and build up my high.

The soothing sounds of a hangover
that annoying crowing cock
bankrupting my mental capacity for patience
and resistance to sunlight

Stuck On Loop For The Most Part

Floating on through this weird little episode
sometimes called the living life
sometimes called the journey of dreams

I'm stuck on loop for the most part
the same morning with the same tea
the same evening with the same coffee

Staring at existence through a rectangle
building it up to make you jealous
building it up to make fall for those lies myself

Summer Fling

A summer fling

it's hard to think

can not focus

lifted up

floating with & on clouds

sitting by the phone

thinking about the summer's fling

Let it Brew

Unexpected things do indeed happen
give it a while
let it brew
then bask in that one moment
until it moves past you
like the fine individual you surely are.

Pretending To Be Somewhere Else

It came creeping behind the corner
round and about
twist and doubt
Hanging on to old routines for too long

And we when they finally do come around again
and again and again and again
I’ll be there facing the other way
Pretending to be somewhere else

Dancer

A fly on the wall
buzzing quietly
about to fall

The early morning drill
nothing happened
but get up that hill

Still waiting for an answer
I wrote her last
I guess I'm now her dancer...

Stranded

It's tough to be stranded
when you haven't got that one specific book with you


But that doesn't matter
because right now I really need
to get this fire started

A Tour Through To The Ocean Floor

A tour through to the ocean floor
the tastes of salt and seaweed

some rays getting through
others still on the way down

little specks of sea dust
moving about like one massive pendulum

I can feel the cold
coming up my feet.

congrats

"Congrats"she said.
as I came to be again
"You've made it through to the next cycle"
the sun was shining bright and the wind was calm
"Where am I?"
I just had to ask.

She looked at me
gave a sort of disappointed smile
then she put on her clothes and left.

Remembrance

that Day is steadily approaching
creeping by the sides

remembrance is watchful eyes
and carefully constructed lies

Words of Wisdom

Up in arms
about hats and farms.

Celebrate the dead!
but don't turn red

Sewers and rats
wait, where are my hats?