Things I Wrote.

let us eat of the dirt and scream at the bones of the earth
to summer's broad skies we dance on a road of spring
each rain-note sings and trembles with the murmuring sky
(and sometimes, when a single word bites down into the ground
you still hear bird-whistles, calling across an ashen cloud face)

i promised myself tonight that i would write, so here are some words.

i resist the urge to write poetry, for it's a quiet night, where the white noise of thought has dulled, and i am truly aware of how utterly alone i am. there is the peace that comes with a dull heart, and you can't stop staring off. you think about things to put in quotes, but no voice can utter the things you want to say.

and so you don't give them a voice.

you're sad, take a pill, don't feel better. you're a drawing, sitting in a dark corner with dead eyes. you sigh. one end, you think. wander your eyes over memory, let nothing change so long as emptiness sits staring in your heart. sits waiting, behind the vessel walls that slow with heavy breaths and hollow sighs. my pain is more real - it is better written. my agony, o - it is in multitudes. confusing thoughts. just want a little pain.

no more complete sentences. maybe a few tears, maybe you want that. be a nervous wreck. get help. maybe it's all in your head. maybe. things could change, people could care. no longer sit in bed paralyzed. don't sit at skies waiting for the black to blue. stop wanting clouds to cover up the sun that hurts.

you're helpless. hopeless, even. you bumble around, big clumsy. orange up your eyes, want to scream - can't. don't want to. what would people think. but you want them to. could end it, but people would think our fault, our fault, her his fault. stony glares among the gathered. it would be too much money - you don't want them to spend it.

would people miss you very much. you hope not. your note is an apology, an attempt to put it all down in paper. please do not take this the wrong way you are all beautiful people. love and live, please. i want my silence now. i tire of the noise.

sliding downhill always. it's all something. maybe this or that they want you to be paying for the pill. they want to keep you crazy, boy. all you need is god, god's forgiveness. all you need is a body free from sin. at the end of the day, god is as human and petty and ugly as you. good riddance.

stop me your case. i want away to lie.

each small victory means nothing. give it up you're not going anywhere with grades like those. hurt yourself so someone gives a damn. do something stupid get our pity please. you can't be sad without your tears boy drink them up. give them to us so we may baptize you in sincerity.

you need the tears. where are they?

the question asks itself when you stare sighing. bleak corner, nothing much. special, no. habits habits.

your eyes your words are nothing. go outside and be productive. be ashamed.

you don't deserve a break keep going. no not that way.

think use your head. no not that way.

just be. don't ask questions. don't fight back, don't surrender.

you are not beautiful. you never will be. just lie down fat and stay that way forever. nobody cares. nobody will read you. give it up surrender now.

hopes and cares confusing. going to sleep and hope for a never-coming morning.

 orange was never your color. you pressed us together like a dried leaf between pages, and - never asking why - the pressure that drew moisture texture thickness from my green skin brought new form to my desire. did you shape me, within that paper prison (or was it a prison of my own choosing, had i danced there?) or did i shape myself into an instrument best to fit you, best to preserve myself? i would like to think i chose this flatness that you gave to me, this two-dimensional nature this                       form that was never not new, never bothered me until the pages withdrew, and I found myself a plane, shapely but devoid of substance, crumbled easily. a gross exaggeration i feel and unfair, perhaps, but never not honest. every moment i was left inside you was another to cherish, and to regret later.

i began to hate the sensation of the open book, my pages being read, my miserable shrivelself being delicately moved
to the side to uncover words and meaning i envied. i thought, "does my presence have meaning here, among these flowered words and complexities - am i a leaf or am i more, a memento"

memento, leaf, or lover - i was possessed.

my edges crumbled

no longer green, i

still smiled, loving

the feeling of being

out of sight (or was it

that i was among those

words

so much more beautiful

than i) of being covered

up by you.

i smiled till the pages parted - till my self was found( less wanted than the beautiful (beautiful) words)

i cannot recall their meaning, or if there was such a thing.
i cannot recall the eyes that led the hands that pushed me aside.

i only know the feeling lost
of feeling lost
in pages of you

roomeight started this meme, and I'm perpetuating it. I don't think anyone reads my LJ though, so maybe this is a bust. :\ Sorry, Hedah.

A lot of this may seem a little obscure or wrong.

You're probably right.

Top Five Albums

1. Mono Walking Cloud And Deep Red Sky, Flag Fluttered And The Sun Shined
2. Agalloch The Mantle
3. Godspeed You! Black Emperor Yanqui U.X.O. 
4. Earth  The Bees Made Honey in the Lion's Skull
5. Kayo Dot Dowsing Anemone With Copper Tongue

Top Five Songs About Love

1. Jens Lekman I Saw Her at the Anti-War Demonstration
2. Cue Wedding Song For Living Things and Dead Things
3. America I Need You
4. Midlake In This Camp
5. Explosions in the Sky Your Hand in Mine

Top Five Songs About Crushes

1. Gregor Samsa O
2. Eagles of Death Metal I Want You So Hard
3. Bird and the Bee Diamond Dave
4. St. Vincent The Strangers
5. Portishead Only You

Top Five Songs About Sex

1. Lovage Sex
2. T Rex Bang a Gong
3. SPACE Carry On, Turn Me On
4. Portishead All Mine
5. Portishead It Could Be Sweet

Top Five Songs About Loss or Breaking Up

1. Feist Lonely Lonely
2. Of the Wand and the Moon In a Robe of Fire
3. Bill Withers Ain't No Sunshine
4. Swallow The Sun Fragile
5. Lumsk Byttingen


**


Top Five Weekend Songs

1. Sigur Ros Gobbledigook
2. RJD2 Ghostwriter
3. Queens of the Stone Age Feel Good Hit of the Summer
4. Death From Above 1979 Black History Month
5. Blur Beetlebum

Top Five Songs For On The Way To The Club

1. Nickelback Photograph
2. Creed Arms Wide Open
3. Miley Cyrus The Climb
4. Lil Wayne Lollipop
5. High School Musical Get'cha Head in the Game

(or whatever it is you youngsters are listening to nowadays)

Top Five Songs About Friends

1. Fleet Foxes Mykonos
2. Midlake It Covers the Hillsides
3. Manowar Brothers of Metal
4. Bathory Great Hall Awaits a Fallen Brother
5. Black Rebel Motorcycle Club Shuffle Your Feet


**

Top Five Songs About Depression

1. While Sad Spirits Around Me Stroll Their Woods
2. Bohren & der Club of Gore Maximum Black
3. Nachtmystium A Seed For Suffering
4. Sunn O))) Candlegoat
5. Dave Bixby Drug Song

Top Five Songs To Listen To In The Rain

1. Explosions in the Sky The Birth and Death of the Day
2. Explosions in the Sky Catastrophe and the Cure
3.  Fleet Foxes Blue Ridge Mountains
4. Azeda Booth Ram
5. Godspeed You! Black Emperor Moya

**

Top Five Cover Songs (that are possibly better than the original)

1. Woven Hand Consecration
2. Woven Hand Ain't No Sunshine
3. Electric Wizard House on the Borderland
4. Moonsorrow For Whom the Bell Tolls
5. Eagles of Death Metal Stuck in the Metal

Top Five Collaboration Songs Songs about Hope

1. The American Dollar Somnambulance
2. Explosions in the Sky Yasmin the Light
3. Fleet Foxes White Winter Hymnal
4. Sigur Ros Hoppipolla
5. Red Sparowes Alone and Unaware, the Landscape Was Transformed In Front Of Our Eyes

**

Top Five Angry/Emo/Goth Songs You Hate To Love

1. Bloodbath Mock The Cross
2. Unleashed We Must Join With Him
3. Haravax No Access to the Divine
4. I Mountains
5. Type O Negative Kill All The White People

Top Five "ArtFuck" Songs

1. Acid Mothers Temple Atomic Rotary Grinding God
2. Foals Tron
3. Battles Atlas
4. Battles Race-In
5. Acid Mothers Temple Ziggy Sitar Dust Raga

**

Top Five Songs You Love That Could Probably Double As Elevator Music

1. Earth Hung From The Moon
2. Radiohead Jigsaw Falling Into Place
3. Eagles of Death Metal Midnight Creeper
4. The Offspring Intermission
5. Gorrilaz Hong Kong

**

Top Five Songs About A City (Or Place) You Love

1. Woven Hand Down in Yon Forest
2. Lovage Strangers on a Train
3. Sex Pistols Anarchy in the UK
4. Mogwai Glasgow Mega-Snake
5. Immortal Antarctica

**

Top Five Songs That You Think Describe You

1. Feist Secret Heart
2. 16 Horsepower Splinters
3. While Sad Spirits Around Me Stroll Their Woods
4. The Samuel Jackson Five Hey Now, Who Really Cares?
5.  Agalloch Not Unlike The Waves

the sand beneath my feet is cold.
it speaks to me of winter morn
where autumn's love has left her curse
of frost upon the desert lands.

there are no leaves to dry her tears;
no trees yet live among these stones.
my breath will bring the moon to rise
and branches formed from lips too cold

to mouth the mother's name and speak
the smoky words of old that pluck
the still-green leaves from trees to watch
them dance along a lonely path.

my sorrow is my shame and i
have heard the final voice tonight
the spirits in the wilds die
and all around me, quiet breathes.

the sand beneath my feet is cold
and silent as these dead towers.

I
Words don't make any sense
and those who (without innocence)
paint a picture without stroke
with sentences we all have spoke
are nothing more than whisperflutes
and brightly colored shimmer spirit sheen

II

From chaos (we know this to be)
springs chaos in brightly colored things
(for this is what we're told) in awe
of colossal glory colors spin
heartless (yes we know) but also
necessary (or so we think)

III

We love and then we die alone
(such is the poet's nature) to die
and nothing in the world's quite right
and poems small between the cracks
sweet verses (trickling though) must surely fade
like letters from the inked pen

in water.


we say amen.

a leaf floats bitter
along that whispered road as
the cold breeze sets in

To you, the bird whose song lilts in the night
you fight against the cold and bitter morn
adorn the darkness with your cheery tweet
the sweet song will bring dawn when it is due.

To you, the bird whose whistle calls for day
away with laughing chirps you pierce the dusk
subfusced though be the hoary birch's bark
the dark will yield to brightest sun renewed.

when sky will whisper sweetly to the earth
and nightscape's teeth bite frigid fingertips
the ravens fly from spring's once welcome hearth
to tallest whitened breath of winter's lips.

their blackened eyes fall eager to the snow
they roil beyond the beak of mad intent
they curse the man who did his heart bestow
unto the warmth of springtime's sweet torment.

they laugh with broken throats at fickle sky
and feather flap to halt the silent sound.
with unity in voice, on wings of blight
above a corpse the ravens circle 'round.

the fool thought april's warmth would stay the frost
but to the mouths of blackbirds he was lost.

You wouldn't understand, and it's not the sort of thing I like to talk about.

How the airbrushed faces glow and dance in the fires of condemnation, and how love only happens to the beautiful. How you know they're coming back if they have a name, and that everything's provincial. It's something in the way they talk about love as an actuality, and no matter what, someone has to be the monster.

Teenagers, we decry, so dramatic. Grown men in teenage boy-suits, everyone's adopted, and everyone's falling apart. Catharsis, what a joke. We know that they will lie, and that lies are sins and we will all be punished. We know that parties will bring us closer to the devil, and that by imbibing substance alcohol, we lose control and surrender souls to hell. We know that there's the "wrong crowd", perpetually 'round the corner, sharking out their snake-teeth into drugs and sex and filth. There's a horrorshow, a constant flashing light with three of every color, and a girl that's always wild, and a tortured artist. There's sports.

Our modern Colosseum, as the lions circle 'round our hero, we know that he has a sensitive side. While all of us might shriek in horror as the snapping jaws of yawning maws creep hot breath, but still we roar when all the parts are gone, and lion-friend is savoring his meat.

Perhaps a mote of truth might come,
as some men to beast's jaws succumb,
but as the walls resound with cheer,
of lions we become afeared.

And though the swords and shields are bright,
with tragic faces, shining light,
this romance world is just a stage;
our gladiators are but slaves.

Which is real? Which is the illusion?

I hate soap operas.