Understanding in a..

The memories of you evaporated with the summer's warmth,
Now they're falling like a raining reminder,
This cold shoulder has become a harsh winter storm,
Freezing the exits to memory lane,
Navigation here is second nature under normal conditions,
Until I hit your black ice (eyes) and slide,
I should be thinking that I need to turn into the skid,
But I'm wondering how I turned into this kid,
Vacant and unprepared as seconds decide my fate,
Gears and tires spin out of control,
Your life can't flash before your eyes if you never had one,
Swerve to a stop on the edge and try again.

....i haven't been here in a while...always somethingelse goingon....i'd say i'llbeback but i never know...i'llbeback.dm.

What's left

The stars seem extra bright tonight.
It always seems like they stand out more when it gets cold.
Maybe because there are less leaves to obstruct their view.
Maybe the cold enhances the senses.
No matter how much they shine on me I feel dark tonight.
Insignificant.
I feel undercover.
Playing at all these relationships.
I don't really belong here.
I don't fit.
But I can act like I do.
I'm reaching out to something that isn't there.
It never was.
Neither was I.
Sweep me under the rug and pretend I never made this mess.

dm.

All my imperfections

"She said that I was the brightest little firefly in her jar.."
But I'm not lighting up for you.
I've grown resentful of the environment.
You keep me behind glass.
I'm running out of air inside.
It's time to smash the glass and fly away.
Somewhere I can burn brighter than I ever could with you.
You've got fireproof eyes but I'm burning through you with mine.

dm.

We all live on...

you've always given me handfuls of tomorrows

now i'm left with just today

putting on this act for anyone still watching

haven't you heard? vaudeville's dead

you're always my (mis)leading lady

your eyes keep you exposed like wires

just twice as dangerous

and i know you'll never be shocked by me

out of state, out of mind

or close enough

i'll cut my losses and see if they bleed

you can't feel empty when what you lose means nothing

if you're the arsonist, i'm the fire

burning beautiful before becoming black, ugly ashes

feeling infinite without you in my mind

'i'd prefer not to be rescued'

you were my faith, but empty as religion

just another story to make me feel hope

if you were deified before, consider this my blasphemy

my atheism to your scripture
getting older
getting sober
getting over
it's getting old.

....dm

Do not ask questions

Watched Fight Club tonight/last night.
As many times as I've seen it, it seemed to tell me something new.
Are we really who everyone thinks we are?
Could we be someone other than we think?
Is it possible that you only know who I want you to?
There could be another person out there posing as me or vice versa.
What if I'm aware of my other self, but unaware it's not someone else?
It could be.
We are the same person.
You're just who I want myself to be.
I am slowly becoming you.
I am you.
You are me(aningless.)

dm.

Pull this thread...

something tastes so sweet but leaves you feeling bitter
look at the swarm you've attracted
getting a taste of your sugar substitute
buzzing around your door, hungry for the real thing
building statues in your honor
in case we need something to hate
giving me all these shots of hope
but i always have to watch the needles go in
smash your wine glass and then take a drink from it
catch the blood from your lips as it paints your white dress
dressing you up and calling you out
the brightest reds will shout loud to stay away
clotting on your chin like we did in winter
you would play it off the same way like you planned it
so tall and proud on your extra three inches
but your weak heels can't hold up what i stand for
your candle is still burning
the (night)tables are turning
that little flame so unaware of the fire behind my eyes
you couldn't make a fabric with the threads of truth you've spun
keep wearing the lies you tell yourself
everyone will be gone soon
i'll be waiting to see your smile die
i'll pen a death sentence for the paragraphs and pages you've written.

xo.dm

Start over on Monday

Stars are making a comeback tonight.
Peeking out of the dark, hiding from the sun.
I think I've had the time to wish on every one.
Clouds moving slowly like my hand.
Inching towards yours until my sense comes back.
Clean up your act.
I'll clean off my ax.
Listening to the silent stoplights change.
Warm summer nights make you feel your age.
We're drinking down stars like wine.
Let's get drunk off this sky.
Is summer over?
Some are over you.
Skyscrapers climb high from empty roads.
Making me wonder about the ones we chose.
Call me a thief, but it's glances I steal.
Walking through fiction, but it seems too real.
Your hands on your hips.
My mind on your lips.
Holding a thought for another day.
Goodnights and let the music fade.

*dm

The Lake

Feelings aren't what they used to be.
They've lost muscle mass with age.
They just can't land a punch like they could before.
They're lacking the strength and stamina of the fighter they once were.
Commonplace feels out of place.
These waters run deep,
but when you're sleeping they freeze beneath your feet.
My arms have been around you for all this time.
Holding you (back.)
My mind always forgets to let go.
Memories keep quiet.
Regrets always speak out of turn.

>dm

What doesn't kill you makes you stranger...

I can't really think straight right now.
I feel like I'm drunk but I haven't had any alcohol.
I can feel my mind spinning while I stand still.
It's a ridiculous sensation.
I can't focus on one thought long enough.
It just goes by.
There is no time to make sense of anything.
This is overwhelming.
This isn't poetry, this is a call for help.
Unless anyone reading is a doctor, no use trying.
Crying would be useful now.
I need to get away from these feelings.
I just want to be in another place, a later time when all this has passed.
I want sleep, but I'm wide awake.
Give me a straight jacket.
Or a sport coat, I'll go crazy in style.
It feels like I'm in withdrawal.
Maybe I am.
I need a fix.
Of you.
I need to fix me.
Gotta take out my contacts so I can see things more clearly.
I'll crawl between the pages of a book and hold your place.
I'm waiting at the end of your favorite line.
Hiding out behind punctuation.
You're always my ellipses...

dm.ntd

Keep your receipt

"Nothing is genuine"
And we're not unique.
I think like a shark,
Keep swimming or you'll die.
I want to fall asleep next to you.
I hate being alone
because I'm such bad company.
One hand on your hip bone,
The other in your hair.
It's only me.
That's the problem.

dm

Don't you float away...

I move, cutting through the breeze,
My mind is racing but having a hard time keeping up.
My feet pound the ground hard,
Like the powerful heartbeat of the ghost next to me.
The ghost of a girl who once took each step with mine,
Keeping pace and saving me with every smile.
Seven miles and I still haven't gotten anywhere,
It sounds a little too familiar to think about.
Relentlessly running, the clear night sky opened up,
And rained down reason on me.
Stretching my arms to catch a falling moon,
To keep the night around for just a while longer.
I stand beside the morning,
Making wishes that you could stand alongside me.
As the sky goes black,
My legs stop pushing forward and lead me back.
I know where I'm going now,
I just don't know how to get there.

---<~.oOo.~>---

Keep breathing.
Sorrow is a funny thing.
Especially to someone that can't show it well.
Regret is a word used too often.
I was running to (from) your words.
My own found me again.
While I was out your name fell from the list.
I should have said it earlier.
My mistake.
Like all of them.
Do things still haunt you?
Does the slightest thing remind you?
It does me.
In a good way every time.
Not just sometimes.
This is me out there.
As far as I usually get before I fall.
Formality is overrated.
Let's have a summer.
Water slides and midnight drives.
Upside down hearts can't trust right anyway.
Come see the world through my lens.
We'll take over the town.
Making headlines like celebrities.
Can we be the (re)cover story?
Tune in next week.
My eyes are wide and not closing.
"She was a wreck but he loved her."
The words are flashing.
I'll be here.
Waiting to see if you get this message in a bottle.
"She was wreck but so was he."
Consider this my throw into the ocean.
Splash.

Oo.dm.oO

Don't call my name out your window, I'm leaving..

It always gets harder to come in early,
Chasing after words when they won't come to you.
Bring that cigarette to your vodka lips,
Let me bum a smoke to burn down what we built up,
Can you hum a note from the songs we used to sing?
Is this the last time we'll ever feel ok?
I'm thinking of our best kiss,
Dreaming of a death wish.
These words have become bars-
Break me out.
Take me out.
Build a bridge across my attention span.
Making advances like the military.
Fighting for a chance to get back what we lost.
It's harder to find things that don't remind me,
so don't remind me.
We'll sit and wait for someone else to do just what we want to.

dm.

Sending Postcards from a Plane Crash (Wish You Were Here)

Our big star rises on a new day,
But something so familiar comes with it,
Somehow staying up to watch the night turn to day
Just means a little more like this.
Midnight conversations are already sleeping,
Four a.m. conversations are where the real party is.
A bittersweet reunion for my ears
With words I can't help but love to hear.
Talking of gods and religion,
But thinking of things that are probably even more far-fetched.
It feels like we're already climbing mountains,
Maybe we can get to the summit one day.
It seems that even while holding what you want
You can't really have it.
A perfect summer night follows me around,
Making plans for future visits.
Nostalgia vs. Memory- Who will prevail?
They're both fighting for the same team.
Eyes like miles of highway,
Seeing barely to the horizon with so much left to explore.
Invisible force pulling me toward a wonderful collision,
Stopped and repelled by opposing forces.
Chances gone but hope still remains close by,
Don't forget to write.

dm

Destination: One block outside of my head

The dead never stay buried,
Especially not in my head.
How could I feel so dark
When the sun is out at noon?
I feel caught; found out.
A delayed reaction, perhaps.
It's claustrophobic in this room
Like the humidity is crowding me in,
Acting for all the souls I've scarred,
All the friendships I've fouled.
Slow suffocation would be just;
Eye for an eye, or breath for a breath.
I didn't see this coming--
Blindsided out of complacency.
Just like them.
Just like every time.
Open wounds aren't attractive,
but here they are for all to see.
I wasn't much to look at before anyway,
so don't stop staring now.
It's hard to say goodbye to something
When you never had it to start with.
It's for the best, you're like the rest,
You can't argue with that logic.
Eyes front--
Don't look back.
I don't want to see that you never cared;
I don't think you want to see that I did.
Your skin can't cover what you've got inside,
Lips can't mask the monster,
Eyes can't disguise the disease,
Hair can't hide the horror.
I've run out of forgiveness,
What about everyone else?

*dm*

I've finally found that life goes on without you...

..and the world still turns when you're not around.

It’s been a while since I’ve said anything
So much is different
But it’s so much the same
Story of my life
Or at least the last four years
I’ve been writing differently
Sentences instead of fragments
Press-releases instead of sound bytes
I think politics is like a big high school election
Name calling and smear campaigns
It won’t get fixed until it’s not about that anymore
I feel so disconnected from anything that major
One vote in a sea of millions
One pebble on the side of the campaign trail
I elect to ignore it all for a while
You’re not ready
I’m ill prepared
We could start the clock on a real deadline and not know it
Neither of us could set aside the time
It’s so easy to disconnect from rationality
I can pride myself on being logical
But where is logic when it really counts?
I boast intelligence
But what good is it when it’s not put to use?
Simple words escape
They define me instead of the other way around
You don’t even know
I’m here waiting
Looking in on your words like a voyeur
If I stare long enough maybe I’ll become a part of it
Invite me in and I might come
You can trace my veins like highways and see where they lead
I carry lies in my jacket to sell like watches
And you’re a repeat customer
Curl up under your blankets tonight
It’s going to get cold again.

Fireworks

I felt somewhat inspired today and I wrote a short story. It's quite short, don't worry. Let me know what you think, this is just the first version.

***********************

All I could taste was the metallic flavor of my own blood as it dripped through my teeth onto my tongue. It turns out seeing stars is a real thing, but it’s more like fireworks. The instant before you feel the impact your vision goes black and you’re at a Fourth of July picnic with the explosions of yellow, blue and red lighting up the dark sky of your eyes. Just for an instant. Then the pain registers in your face. There’s a special type of pain involved when someone’s knuckles connect with your face on a frigid winter day in Chicago. It’s like the crack of a wooden baseball bat firing a fastball back to the stands. Everyone can hear it and even more, they can feel it.

I could feel the pebbles on the sidewalk slide under my hands as I tried to keep myself from hitting too hard. Then the inevitable smack of the back of my head on concrete. It made a dull thud but I could hear the echo ringing in my ears. Once my eyes started working again, I turned my head to see feet shuffling away. Just muttering voices and muffled laughter over the scratch of Chuck Taylor’s in the gravel.

I just lay there for a while, staring up at the gray sky. The lower, darker clouds moved faster than the ones above them. It felt almost tranquil. Once I mustered the will to get up, I started to feel the pain again. My head started throbbing and I almost fell back down. I brushed the dirt off my hoodie, summoning an intense stinging to my palms. I held them just inside the sleeves of my sweatshirt as I walked, trying not to move them at all, lest the intense sting of cold on concrete-scraped hands return.

I had a long walk ahead of me, but it felt cathartic in a way. Even though it just happened, I felt that I could reflect on what had happened and why. I knew this moment was coming before I even left school today. I knew and I almost welcomed it.

It all began during second period. I had Advanced English, which was normally reserved for seniors, but they let me in as a sophomore because of my high test scores. I’m something of a geek, in that I read a lot and enjoy doing math problems for fun. I get made fun of sometimes, but I have some friends in this school. I like to think one of them is Amanda Pearlman. She is a senior and sits in front of me in Advanced English.

Amanda came into class looking strange today, so I asked her what was wrong. She began crying almost immediately, telling me that her boyfriend had cheated on her again. It’s true that it happened before but they had since made up and were still together. Being her friend, as well as someone with a huge crush on her, I felt that I should do something. She got sad while I got angry. I could hear her stifled sobs and watched from the seat behind while she wiped her eyes for the rest of class. I had to do something.

The entirety of my Gym and History classes were spent devising a plan. I must have gone through about fifteen while watching a documentary about the Holocaust. I thought he deserved to go to a concentration camp to tell you the truth. Maybe I was being a little melodramatic, but I was really pissed at the guy. I decided burning him alive was neither warranted nor possible on such short notice and I moved on to my next idea.

By the time school got out, I knew what I was going to do. I knew that Josh, Amanda’s boyfriend, hung out by the water fountains talking to his jock buddies until most people had left after school. They would walk down Lombard Street to the deli on their way home. I crossed the street and waited next to a tree where I could see them talking between the line of buses. I knew they’d be coming soon and I would be ready for them.

I watched as my bus drove off without me, followed by the last two buses in the line. After the loud diesel rumbles of the school buses were gone, a familiar quiet fell over the schoolyard. It’s a strange experience to be somewhere that you know should be loud when it’s not. Like standing in the middle of an empty football stadium. Just the waning conversations of a few cheerleaders walking toward the field for practice and the distant, deep voices of the group of jocks that had just begun their walk away from the water fountains. The silence was telling. This was it.

I had my back against the tree, facing away from them, but I could hear them joking and shoving each other as they got closer. I dug my fingernails into the tree and closed my eyes for a moment before I turned and came face to face with them. They looked stunned. After exchanging glances, Josh spoke up. “What the hell do you want, kid?”

I opened my mouth, but all of the words I planned to say were gone. All that came out was, “You!…” And then I trailed off.

“You want me? You faggot, get the hell out of my way.”

I suddenly found some courage, “No, you need to stop treating Amanda like shit!” I surprised myself with that exclamation. “Stop cheating on her,” I finished up. This was not the plan. I was not seeming tough at all. More like a scared orphan asking for more porridge from the headmaster.

Josh just laughed with his friends, “You’re kidding right? That’s cute, someone’s got a crush.” He smiled his biggest smile, pushing me aside and walking past me. I couldn’t let him leave like this. I called upon what little confidence I had.

“You don’t deserve her. You should appreciate what you have! You’re just a piece of shit jock that thinks he’s better than everyone else and you’re not!” I could hardly believe I was saying these things. He gave his friends each a look, then walked slowly over to me. He stopped about a foot away, looking me right in the eyes, smirking slightly. I didn’t blink. He shook his head like he was going to say something, then-- CRACK! Fireworks. And you know the rest.

So here I am, walking the ten miles to my house along Lake Michigan. The cold air feels great. I feel great. I feel like I stood up for someone I really care about, even if she doesn’t care about me the same way. It was like the fireworks weren’t because of head trauma, but in celebration of my victory. It has something to do with the subtleties of unrequited love. Everything seems more intense. Like a punch in the face on a cold day. Or a long walk home with a bloody smile and a clear conscience.

.dm.

Where You Want to Be

I'm starting to get that feeling again that I need to leave.
I've gotta drive away to somewhere I don't know.
Knowledge isn't power when you know it like this.
All I want is warm air.
Windows down.
Music up.
Sing-alongs.
Best friends.
Long nights.
Tall beers.
Skies full of stars.
And minds filled with more.
So let's throw caution to the wind and hope it floats away.
Let's throw the pearls back into the ocean.
The diamonds back into the dirt.
Until it's just us.
Me.
You.
The moon.
Nothing to stop us but us.

.dm.

Alone I can barely light a match...

...but together we can burn this place down. ~fys

How can I learn from my mistakes
When my mistakes are such bad teachers?
Or maybe I’m just a poor student
Passing notes instead of paying attention
What would it be like to live outside this skin?
No easier than I pretend
It comes easy to you, or so you make it seem
That’s how it looks from over here
These words aren’t work
But my days are labor
I can’t be content to live and die
In one single blink of a god’s eye
These clouds pass by the sun
Like moments of motivation in my day
Raining showers of thoughts
Gone before you knew they were here

* * *

Spring weather always makes me nostalgic
I’m just not sure what for
It makes me homesick for a place that never existed
Feeling the cool breeze at 3am is the best
Walking in solitude in the early morning darkness
In shorts and a t-shirt makes me wish I were younger
The warmth at night makes me want the beach
There’s nothing like that atmosphere
Sand covering your feet
Moon hovering over the water
Waves crashing rhythmically
As you walk hand in hand with someone who makes you feel just right
Hoods over your heads and zippers up to your smiles
Bottle caps and best friends
Whiskey breath and dead ends
Hiding in the shadows cast by police lights
Cuz that’s just where we live
Lifeguard chairs are the top of the world
Ice cold ocean feet on the hottest girl
Pre-dawn breezes whisper to our covered ears
They tell us to leave but we’re not going anywhere
Morning gulls, they call and call
Wasting their time, just like us
Sleeping silence from the city
As asphalt feet bring us back to reality
We walk away from that grainy perfection
Knowing we can’t just walk back and have it be the same
We can grin on our pillows tonight, though
Knowing that the songs carried on that wind will stay with us forever.

*dm*

Jersey Drive

I'm lying to my face
but who do I think I'm kidding?
I'm dying in this place
but I deserve all that I'm getting

You're not what I thought you'd be
That's just the way we do
I'd drive across New Jersey and I'd
Cut the state in two

These nights you seem so far from my town
I still feel your lips like they just left my mouth
My mind doesn't wonder 'bout the places they've been
Just searches for your taste all over her skin

I'm lighting up matches
To burn down this mattress
We buried the hatchet
But I'm digging up axes
To cut the ties
And spill the lies
I was hypnotized
Now you can't disguise--

All the things you made me do for you
What I'd bring was nothing new to you
Pull my eyes out to improve the view
And you deserve the things I'll do to you

I'm lying in my face
but I'm the only one I'm kidding
Living life disgraced
but who can keep track of my sinning?

I'm just not who I thought I'd be
That's just the way we do
I'd drive across New Jersey and I'd
Do it just for you

I'd drive across New Jersey and I'd
Say goodbye to blues

I'd drive across New Jersey just to
Cut that state in two again for you.

dm.intherain.

Drifter

My head feels full..
Like I’ve eaten too much information already today
“Stick a pin in it..”
…dreaming nightly of your kiss
walking through days like clenched fists…
Hours alone in strange places
Stacks of books not worth reading
Upside down chairs on desks remind me of childhood
I’m no authority figure
They handed me this position
I need to escape
From this town
From my head
I’ve never felt so trapped
I’ve always been comfortable here
I need to leave so I’ll want to come back
The beaches are calling my name
But when I get there they give me the cold shoulder
Perception is more than how you look at something
It’s how something looks back
So amazed how something inanimate--time--can make me sad
I’ll be gone sooner than you think.

.heart.dm.

This isn't who I am

I wonder where you are as I watch the moon rise,
Sitting beneath its glow and the yellow stars it cries,
This time last year, as I waited for replies,
I felt the lunar pull from your dark, night eyes.

I've traveled neither distance nor mind,
Telling myself I'd been waiting for a sign,
But the paths diverged and I'm still left behind,
Forever searching but not knowing what I hope to find.

I stand, hands in pockets, waiting for my ride,
But the train is long gone and no more will arrive,
I don't walk, run, hitch or even try,
I simply wait, saying "It will be here. In time."

Moving on is a virtue for me that never came,
Letting go of something that meant so much seemed insane,
With time came knowledge, and with knowledge, pain,
The moon rises without you and nothing can ever stay the same.

* * *

I haven't been around in a while. I've been in a coma as far as blogs were concerned. I've been reading a lot in place of writing. So, to the few people that may look at this, I hope to be making a return in full force. But you know how plans go. It's okay to comment on this and earlier writings. I'd like to hear what people think because I'm a harsh critic of myself. These aren't always what I'd consider finished, polished works. They are, more often than not, words that come off the top of my head. So, tell me what you like and what you don't. Or just say 'hey, you never post in here anymore' so I know someone's still reading.

dm

...of mistakes we made.

Sharp, sharp dreams
cutting into the morning
Like Black Kites
Against the mid-day sky,
Tied to our fingers
As a daily dark reminder
that we're stuck..

Stuck staring at silhouette cities
Leaning on landscape ledges
Sunset skyscrapers stand tall
Impeding our well-planned path
Open doors demand more, more!
We sit in stagnant stupors
Drying like circular coffee stains
Whose primary purpose
And solitary service
Is to forewarn
forlorn future friends.....

...of mistakes we made.

Sunken

You're writing pages of a story to me,
but it's nothing that I'd wanna read,
I'm keeping holes in my heart so you can slip it in your notebook,
I'm leaving messages on phones just hoping that you'll look,
Airing out my sins
But this isn't making sense
There's just not enough of you to go around.
I'm talking words that don't make sense to you,
still there's nothing that you'd try to do,
My house is held up by empty pedestals you stood on,
All the candles burnt out on the mantle since you've gone,
Hanging on this anchor's chain
I'm drowning while I try to change
This ship has sailed and sunk, tide's come in, goodbye.

....dm....

It's true, writer's block is a slow painful way to die live.

Tiny Incisions

"He falls back onto clean new sheets of a freshly made bed, surrendering to the infinite choices life has provided for him. The hardness of the mattress has never felt so real. Mouth agape, he stares at the wall, the door, the pile of clothes on the floor. Some new realization is taking over but it isn't taking hold. The feelings coarse through his body but the ideas can't be articulated. Always one to reject reality, he ignores this and hopes it will pass. But it doesn't. It doesn't and it never will. His struggles will do no good against this adversary. Acceptance is the only weapon that can lull this beast into a slumber. Good night."

"Fear not the future and things you can't know,"
That's what she said to me,
"You're the only one I can be myself around, you make me feel so..."
As if it were an acceptable apology,
Why did we spend all that time?
Why did we waste each other's minds?
And never walked the pond twice,
You knew you'd go back, despite all advice,
Was it worth the words spoken and songs sung?
Nights with stars in our hearts and the sunrise on the tips of our tongues,
Pockets full of memories collecting like lint,
Fading like the light we made when I was a spark to your flint,
"I'm just not ready now, give me some time,"
I complied foolishly,
"I thought you'd forgotten me, it's been quite a while..."
Goodbye and good luck to you and to me.

.dm.

A Road Traveled

I feel like I'm at a fork in the road once again. It's the same one as the last time. And the time before that. I don't simply choose a path and follow it, for better or worse. No, I start walking and decide that this isn't the kind of trail I'd like to travel on. The view is nice, but the ground is muddy, making it hard to walk and, well, I don't want to get these shoes dirty. So I trudge back to the divergence and select a more suitable road for my purposes. It's a clean, dry walk this time.. but there's simply no scenery. On top of that, I can't remember the last person to pass by who seemed worthy of conversing with. No, this won't do either, but have I come too far to return to where this road splits in all directions? Shoud I risk trekking down another thoroughfare of unknown conditions? There's no telling what types of terrain or ne'er-do-wells I could encounter the next time around. So, here you find me, strolling slowly at the edge of my most recent route, throwing thoughtful glances from whence I came, waiting for my feet to join my mind that's already turned back.

-dm-

The Dangers of Conformity

“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I have not lived.” ~ Henry David Thoreau

To be read at the start of all Dead Poet's Society meetings.

I love movies that give me such a good feeling. Granted, it does end on somewhat of a down note, but the spirit of the film outweighs that greatly. In an environment built firmly on the conformity of each and every student, one teacher goes against the grain and treats his students like free-thinking individuals with ideas and personalities. Wouldn't that be great? I'm not saying all of my teachers have been stuffy old men that treat us like children, but I can't say I've ever been inspired enough to stand on my desk and recite poetry. I would love to be though.

John Keating: "We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman, 'O me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless... of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?' Answer. That you are here - that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. That the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?"

The passion behind this one monologue just makes me want to go out and live life to the fullest. Wouldn't it be great to learn in a new way and enjoy yourself at the same time? To have meetings late at night, crowded in a cave reciting old poetry and creating your own and living life. Let's start a new chapter, who's with me?

Back to reality, I spent my afternoon in a remarkably less stimulating classroom environment drawing a still life. With art supplies, gas, food and textbooks, not to mention my current status as unemployed, it's getting harder daily to keep my kleptomaniacal urges under control.

I did vote today, but that brings to mind far too many topics, who have been ganging up and snickering at my confused little brain lately, for me to coherently link together right now. Suffice to say: I've never understood racism.

.dm.

I found this while reading some Whitman poems and it seemed appropriate.

I Sit and Look Out
Walt Whitman

I sit and look out upon all the sorrows of the world,
and upon all oppression and shame;
I hear secret convulsive sobs from young men, at anguish with themselves,
remorseful after deeds done.

Riding Free

“A car is useless in New York, essential everywhere else. The same with good manners.” ~ Mignon McLaughlin

The first half of this quote is common knowledge, the other half was ingrained in our minds today during our trip to the Big Apple. Free train transit (provided graciously by NJ Transit for college students in an attempt to show us how useful it is so we'll keep using it after the freebie week is over and the prices return to their ungodly rate) led me to plan a trip to the city for no reason in particular. It was raining when we left, but I decided I'd rather be wet in New York than dry in New Jersey most of the time anyway.

The trip was good, while serving no purpose but to kill time that could have (Read: Should have) been spent on portfolios, homework, projects, etc. I'm a big fan of procrastination, so this was just fine with me. We strolled through Central Park, rode the subways from uptown to downtown and back again, paid way too much for sandwiches at a deli, saved the life of an injured pigeon (tried to anyway..) and were harrassed by not one, but TWO NJ Transit officials about our free student passes. Ah, New York, you never let me down.

Oh, and where do the ducks go in the winter?

It seems they just move to another pond that's not frozen. I guess if the winter had been this mild when Holden Caulfield was heading back home, that fond musing may never have been thought of. Glad the (fictional) winter was much colder then, because I wonder the same thing...

Trains always inspire me. I don't know what it is about them, but the clanking wheels, screeching brakes, chug of the engine and teetering passenger cars just make me giddy and full of things to say.

I remember riding the train next to you, casually tuned into the sound of your headphones. Sidestepping onto the landing and up the stairs to the grandeur that is New York City's streets. Never once glancing to your side, at me, nor removing an earbud for just a second to listen to any words that were dropping from my mouth, hopelessly into the gutters and through the city sewers for purification. Maybe one day you'll turn on your faucet and pour out some of my recycled sentences, drinking them unknowingly and thinking of me. Just maybe.

Why do people linger with us like the phantom limbs of a wounded soldier? We've fought the fights we expected to win, and the ones we never intended to fight at all, losing more than we knew we could live without. But still after the war is long over, we think we can stand on legs that we've left behind and try swinging fists attached to arms that just aren't there. When can we become whole again without these severed appendages?

.dm.

Flow

I drove this morning with the lonely day moon.
It hung sad without any stars to keep it company.
It reminded me of your eyes.
You throw them like beautiful bricks through the windows to my soul.
Your devil may care facade smiles like an aging actress.
It could use a facelift.
I yearn for an audience to hear my shouts.
But once I had one I don't think I'd know what to say.
It's good to have an optimist around.
I'm just so pessimistic about optimists, though.
I'm skeptical (jealous?)
It's hard to believe they're being genuine sometimes.
That's just my perspective taking over.
I guess attitude is a big part of how things turn out and being upbeat can probably only help.
This stream of consciousness has flowed through so many forests of fakes and dumped into too many lakes of lies to think of treading back against the current.
I'll remain content in a placid pond of lost thoughts.

Glow

Sleep deprived.
Not yet, but it won't be long.
What does someone like me have to offer?
Each keystroke is a moment I could have spent doing something productive.
Still waiting to be inspired.
Current waiting time is still indefinite.
My scars stare up at me like friends recounting old memories.
Telling it like it is, holding nothing back.
Real friends don't have "end" in their title because they're brothers and comrades.
You were always the one there to hold their hair back after we let them drink too much.
Your door is closed most of the time, but you should know I'll be on the other side when you want to open up.
To the friendships that met their ends: thanks for the memories.
Some jokes just aren't funny without you around for them.
Excuse Don, but everyone else just thinks I'm being stupid.
Some too proud or pious, just leave it be.
I'm getting by just fine with what I've got, despite the words I cry on here.
You'd probably be happy to know my finger still flicks my blinker on every time I pass your street.
I'll lay here awake under covers, happy in the glow of my screen until the alarm sounds and I haven't slept at all.
Welcome back, insomnia.

I know what you think..

We live alone right next to one another.
Dwelling in the shadows but blinded by each others' words.
Speaking with sarcastic seriousness only we understand.
Stuttering silence as we scribble standard prose.
Seeking, desperately searching underneath our clothes.
Hiding behind hair and holding pale blue hands.
Hemorrhaging heartbeats beneath glass chests.

This is what we convince ourselves we need.
All you've been dreaming of, it surely must be love.
Twisted like cables behind red eyes.
A stare like a plane crash that took off with no intention to land.
My big city eyes can't stick to the suburbs for long.
I'm next to you in body, but my mind is far gone.
Just cross all your fingers and hope that I'll change into someone else.
But there's no way that heart's as fucked up as mine.

Losing my voice like keys.
Playing hearts like a game.
This night is no different and only the weather has changed.
Lie awake under rising suns, wondering if this is where we belong.
Each well-crafted word means a little less than the last.
You can't pull off dialogue like this without a supporting cast.
Embrace another winter morning that keeps you in bed a little longer.
Passing by opportunities like train stops, racing back to our dreams.

.dm.

..you don't have to say it.

Time is medicine

Stocking feet on hardwood floors,
Fireplaces and melting s'mores,
Folded into the comfort
Of new sheets and old friends,
Electric signs and pickup lines,
Underage and out of mind,
Perfumes idle by
To haunt our dreams tonight.

Schematics, drawings, master plans,
Have left the safety of my hands,
The ink is dried and can't be used,
The playwright works without his muse.

Fingernail marks and lipstick stains,
Find their place and mark the page,
As we walk through nights to get away
Through puddles of thoughts in peaceful rains,
Kisses unfinished and chances not taken,
Rise to the surface like cream as we're aging,
Showing smiles that we force to our faces
While our true feelings hide like the sketch beneath paintings.

Dreams, desires, whims and wishes,
Sabotaged and surreptitious,
Youth betrayed by matter and mind,
The sun sets on golden days, leaving us in the dark and blind.

~dm~

It was rainy today, which always seems to inspire me to write. It's January and I think it needs to start snowing again soon. I'm not a fan of cleaning snow off of cars, but I really like watching it fall and the way it looks when it's on the ground. Today was really unexpected and things turned out in a way I didn't think they would, perhaps for the best. I think it will all turn out okay... ok, not really. I don't know why I typed that because I actually don't think that. All I think about is how I don't think anything will go right and I'll never move on from this part of life. I can't make a decision and stick to it, I get into one thing but then I get concerned about it and think I should change everything, which just slows down any process I begin. Knowing this should be a good start to changing it, but I've known this for some time and still I'm the same person. Who knows. Good day.

Live again, live again....

The road is narrow, the horizon wide
And they say what's waiting on the other side
Is so rewarding and the ultimate prize
But what good is something if you can't have it until you die?

Desperate, tenacious, clinging like a grain of sand
Watching its foundation wash away (wash away)
Drunk with the assertions they know they can't defend
Confident that they might live again.

Live again, live again!
Would you give it all up to live again?
Live again, live again!
Would you give it all up to live again?

Temptation, revalation, you decide
Torture shows its colors often in disguise
Progress and purpose help us realize
We pass along a brighter faith even though it must be blind.

Desperate, tenacious, clinging like a grain of sand
Watching its foundation wash away (wash away)
Drunk with the assertions they know they can't defend
Confident that they might live again.

(badreligion)

Pull Up, Pull Up

This is what I feel like today. Like Zach Braff in Garden State. He's waiting tables with a bunch of people all around him but he's completely zoned out. It's not just because I was waiting tables, I've just felt this way all day. I guess I've got a lot on my mind and things aren't working out exactly like I hoped they would. I'm usually pretty good at hiding my emotion, but I guess I wasn't today. It's like I'm doing all this work but what am I working towards? And am I going to be happy when I get there? Should I take the safe path or the interesting one on the chance I'll be able to make something of it? I really don't know, but I don't have time to waste on wondering. I need to make a decision.

"Los Angeles Tower, this is Transworld 22 Heavy, we are going down! Mayday Mayday!"