Young

(Ain’t It Sad) How Things Turn Out to Be

When I was young,

I was so carefree,

At least that’s how

It seems to me,

Ain’t it sad

How things turn out to be?

 

Full of hope,

Full of passionate dreams,

A thrilling new world

Lay right before me,

Ain’t it sad

How things turn out to be?

 

Glass half full,

Then it’s half empty,

My mood can change

So very unpredictably,

Ain’t it sad

 How things turn out to be?


 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=57MUtZbXChM

Author's Notes/Comments: 

 (Ain’t It Sad) How Things Turn Out to Be began life as a song, written and recorded in 2016, although, as the lyrics make manifestly clear, it stems from one of my episodic ‘glass half empty’ periods.

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Highschool

 

Here I am again
Walking through these doors again
Just crawled out of the trash can
So pale. Let me tell you a tale

Highschool days
Say I am young so Its natural
But its not cause its cultural
Everyone in my family is cursed

That’s just factual.
In PE. This ball is uncatchable
Cant even catch. Its unfathomable
Got kicked out of Cross country

Cause I was actionable
Wrote a note and became habitable
Fashionable. But not applicable
Every girl that I like thinks I’m Unfashionable

It’s unimaginable how Im treated like GARBAGE
Trash cause I’m Charitable
Giving away money to Africa
They said I was phenomenal

That’s a lie. That money is navigable
Straight to your pockets. Unpalatable
These pastors on the television scamming
They are planning. Their piggy banks are incalculable


Their wife’s sit outside tanning cause you’re lazy
Crazy. You hand money to them because you’re hazy
You think their god will save you
I don’t blame you. I hate you.

My face is blue. Not red cause I have the flu.
That ebola flew over to our states and grew.
Dude. I don’t get it
This computer screen

I just want to put on my leather mits and hit it
I see my reflection. Correction. I see a connection
Ugly and negative cause I don’t get enough affection
If you have looks you get attention.

I need to go to the hammer section
So I can ram this nail in the imperfection
Disconnection. Ear buds in.
Music offering protection

I need a distraction
Before I blow up on this nation
Idiots voting for idiots during election
Put up a projection

We’re heading in the wrong direction
Stupidity is what’s going to get us
Its like an infection spreading

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Headquarters

Folder: 
Personal

"The coffee shop,

where in the middle of the block,

it had started;

where they met.

 

Their headquarters,

where they rested

over iced drinks

after a long skate.

 

Old friends,

young men,

two, not the same blood

or kin

 

shake hands 

and embrace the others grin,

a tight squeeze

given to each. 

 

Brothers,

such a tight bond

with so little time,

sealed the deal

 

of interlocking

storylines,

adventures and shared 

scrapes.

 

Escaping near death,

falling off boards onto wrists,

downhill descent

screaming past parked cars,

 

wherein that itself

is a rare occurance

when once was daily.

Temperature varied,

 

as did the places they'd

hunker down,

sweating,

stopping to have a drink.

 

Seperated by little,

attached at the hip,

it seemed. Until

life happened,

 

having sent the older 

away for summmer,

the younger away for the rest,

testing himself and his brain.

 

Drumming away,

marching on by,

the two had lives 

blur on by, 

 

spiraling in different directions,

story arcs and sidequests,

conquests coloring the night,

but by and by, 

 

when guest apperances

would transpire,

everything dropped

to meet one another,

 

the bond was made stronger

with the short time

it had to cure.

Not to say

 

neither were lost,

but both stepped in confidence.

Always looking ahead,

but once they were together,

 

unspoken,

to each love was gave.

Brotherly love,

concrete waves."

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Always good to see an old friend you rarely talk to, but as soon as you're together you're as close as ever.

Little Boy

 

Little Boy

 

A little boy full of craze

 

Running through a maze

 

Lost with nowhere to go

 

Not knowing what to do

 

Crying for someone to help

 

But no one can hear him yelp

 

 

 

A little boy full of craze

 

With nowhere to go he stays

 

Wondering about his cause

 

As he grows with no pause

 

Trying to find his place

 

Feels like he is lost in space

 

 

 

A little boy full of craze

 

Counting down his days

 

Before he figures his life out

 

He has no clue with so much doubt

 

Wanting to grow up and know

 

What he doesn’t know is he will glow

 

 

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The Heart of a Girl

When I made you cry

From the words that I tied

Around you so taut

Had only I known the heart of a girl,

 

When I told her I loved her

When I said I could trust her

By the sweet smiling beauty

Had only I known the heart of a girl,

 

I know that she hates me

Or at least she should

I planted the seed of trust deep inside of her

Crushed the walls of uncertainty

I layed new sidwalk onto streets she once shunned

I built new bars and comedy clubs up and down her busy main street

As I held her my hands looked young

 

You,

The one who always calls me on my birthday

You were a different story

I let myself be yours

It was you who painted that portrait of psychotic

Taught me the songs to sing

When you feel shame in your love

Is your house still crippled

From the rocks I threw at it

Hoping one would spotaneously catch

To burn that loose lipped commune,

I want to thank you

Because I've been taught how to love selflessly

I know my love will be courageous for anyone 

Even those as reckless with it as you

You taught me true heartbreak

And for all the sweet girls that find me

I will know the heart of a girl

 

 

 

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The Ticks and The Tocks

The land we are diverged by creates the bond that binds us,

literality, our spirits personify our painful excitement,

explained, but only comprehended as by being so close, yet so far.

Every tick of the clock empties another part of my soul,

but with every tock I am closer to you.

With others I put on the falsest of faces for I am not what I am.

I am secretly afflicted by the most infectious of diseases,

and it seems I have spread the epidemic through the linking of my heart to yours.

It is a malicious joy, and a hidden, self-inflicted pain to feel for you.

But, I admit to being a masochist, as my feelings for you will not waver.

There is not a second in the day I don't think of being with you,

though nor a second I am with you.

So we must appreciate every word exchanged,

until we can hear those words spoken unscripted and unedited, unfiltered with our own eager ears.

I love you, and cherish every moment we have,

but the whole in my heart, the pit in my stomach, will not be satisfied until more ticks and tocks go by with you than without you.

Although the acknowledgeable and ironic truth is that with you in my arms, the ticks and tocks will go by without my notice.
Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is for my girlfriend Hannah, who currently lives 2,610 miles away from me.

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Young at Heart

No matter how aged you get,


How many days you have met,


Be young at heart,


Delight shall never part.


 

Even if the closer ones shun you,


You should perk yourself up anew,


Believing that you are the best,


From all the rest.


 

Enjoy life to the fullest time and again,


Let no angst knock at your brain.   

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tags:

Untitled

“how beautiful is the silence of growing things
in a place full of even deader things?
the soft roots of innocent herbs
poke through the rotten flesh
and curl around the dirty bones
of forgotten ancestors
that deserved better than this.” And
all of this underneath the rubber soles
of a young girl’s Sunday shoes,
scuffed white surrounding curled baby toes.
Her world watches as she jumps from rock to rock,
lining the winding road as it leads out.
And she laughs at herself,
dark curls bouncing with her. Again she wonders,
“how blind are the sunken eyes
of those who stopped looking? the flies buzz
and run their tiny feet all over
the stiff, unfeeling organs
of ancient lovers from a different land, different time.
if they could see now, they’d just see rotting wood,
the unsightly view we condemn all our expired kind to-
maybe that’s why they stopped looking, closed their eyes.”
She smiles, and the old breeze
chills her crooked teeth, stirs her Sunday dress,
black and white against her bony knees.
And she tells herself-
“It is just his body that lingers,
falling victim to natural defamation;
his soul floats on to a truer place,
full of grander memories.”
For she cannot afford to think in any other way.

The Chase

Fill up room with haze.

Morals are just a phase.

Trust is all the same.

Leave it to the waste.

Dreamt of all the ways.

Thoughts have passed away.

Scream til black and grey.

Faded with the days.

Everytime I've tried.

Your heart won't bugde a mile.

Just won't slip away.

I need it to behave.

Think of all the ways.

Your smile can make me go insane.

Whenever you call my name.

I'll send with so much haste.

I'd hope you'd do the same.

 

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