Battle Cries

Even before the sun
devoured the whole sky,

the ending had begun

and we were left to die.

Over decades with a smoking gun,

the senators idly stood by,

and thinking that their jobs were done,

fell silent, no reply.

The marches of the uniformed men

and their wilted battle cries:

it all comes back around again

until humanity's demise.

The portly politicians' pens

wrote poetry to chastise.

They ended their prayers at night, "Amen,"

and dreamed about their lies.

Their banter and their bicker

and their precious, petty pork

made their wallets that much thicker,

so they popped another cork

and filled their bellies full of liquor:

a little democratic quirk.

It made a planet sicker,

left a people at the fork

of a bloody, barren road:

to rise up and revolt

and heed the warning crowed

or turn away and bolt

and watch the earth implode

as if no one's at fault.

A punishment for us bestowed:

a wake-up call, a crash, a jolt.

The warning fell upon deaf ears

so our blood rushed through the rivers.

It's everything the innocent feared

and we huddled close and quivered.

Then, closer in the sky appeared

our sun who would deliver

the final blow and with a sneer:

lights out for earth, our deathly shiver.

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

"Some 5 billion years from now, there will be a last perfect day on Earth... then the sun will begin to die, life will be extinguished, the oceans will boil and evaporate away." - Carl Sagan Cosmos

"Come you masters of war - you that build all the guns, you that build the death planes, you that build all the bombs, you that hide behind walls, you that hide behind desks - I just want you to know I can see through your masks." - Bob Dylan Masters of War (really, this entire song)

"The drunken politician leaps upon the street where mothers weep and the saviors who are fast asleep: they wait for you." - Bob Dylan I Want You

Little Lives

The moon's heart is heavy

as he considers the bevy

of bedrooms into which

his eyes become hitched.

His midnight glances

see all your romances,

all your quiet indiscretions,

and your lapses in depression.

Though he's aged with grace,

there are wrinkles on his face

and he envies the little lives he views.

Their elegant movements are his muse.

A voyeur satellite,

you only know at night,

but he cannot turn away,

not even for a day

and he isn't getting any younger.

So he hovers and he hungers

for a hand to caress,

or a love to profess

or for lips to kiss

or a sweetheart to miss.

The little lives below

do not even know

how lucky they are

when viewed from afar.

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

"The moon hangs like the blade of an axe tonight, and it's poised to drop sometime soon enough on this dump truck where I lie mixed up with the morning's trash. There's a piece of glass sticking in my back and tar covering my mouth." Saves the Day All I'm Losing is Me

"This is the window where I watched the future start. My pupils dilated. The shock sped up my arms. I shut my ambushed eyes  and turned my face towards the heat." Kevin Devine All of Everything, Erased

The Push, The Pull

My autumn air lingers

in your summer sky

like the tips of my fingers

and the zip of your fly.

I breathe you in -

deep and full -

the smell of gin -

the push, the pull.

As the room still spins,

you've no words to say.

This is how it begins

if this is how it can stay.

Not a sound 

nor muscle moved,

I am found;

I am improved.

And for every other,

your eyes say to me

that they don't bother

even to see.

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

Long time no post. Here's a little somethin'.

"I can't remember all the times I tried to tell myself to hold on to these moments as they pass." - Counting Crows A Long December

Stories

He woke me with his stare,

but to speak I didn't dare.

The sky was falling 

as his voice kept stalling:

"The air's too thin.

and the world's caving in.

Love is affliction,

a very fine fiction."

So on he went,

never really bent

on any true direction,

always looking for affection 

just to dump it in a graveyard

or leave it burnt or scarred.

Intertwined in love's lacy fingers,

where the scent of sex lingers,

his traces can be found,

but he never sticks around.

Just a ghost with a voice.

His solace is his choice.

His misery is lonesome

like his cold sheets have become.

And all the ones who "got away"

from the boy with miles who wouldn't stay

are tucked beneath their lover's chins

where now their stories can begin.

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

Living well is the best revenge. 

“I know you don’t think you did me wrong and I can’t stay this mad for long. Keeping ahold of what you just let go. You’re just somebody that I used to know.” - Elliott Smith Somebody That I Used To Know

Found

A glint, a glance,
a sigh, a whisper,
and all the secrets
he kept from her 
prevent her voice
from reaching farther.
She huddles herself
in a dark, dank corner.

There, no one can see
and no one can say
and all their bickering
hides away.
And the burning boy
who did betray
and the boy with miles
who wouldn't stay

can't find her with their
fiery hearts
or rip apart
her fragile parts. 
The blood in her veins stops
and starts
and stops
and starts.

And she would stay
in her humdrum haven,
hold up with her books,
cowering and craven,
if not for a friendly,
blue-eyed maven
who found a girl 
in need of saving.



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

I know. It's been a long time. This isn't actually even a new poem. It's one I've been working on for a long, long time. Hopefully, I'll have something legitimately new for you in the near future.







"A look, a laugh, a smile, a second passes by and I regret it. Words just aren't right. Sometimes I just can't explain all the ways you devastate me, always on my mind." Straylight Run The Tension and the Terror

Redact

Her head keeps on spinning.
She sees her ends and her beginnings,
that little devil on her shoulder, grinning,
and her patience ever thinning.
She walks on her wire,
her situation dire,
as the flame of her fire
grow higher and higher
and the blood in her veins
does boil to her brains.
Her heart remains,
for safe keeping, in chains
for it is known to run rampant
and follow a foul scent
without her consent
and much to her discontent.
It beats against its bony bars,
imprisoned far beneath the stars
all because it caused her scars.
Empty wine bottles and out of tune guitars
decorate her bedroom walls.
Her hands shake and no one calls
and, to its knees, the circus falls.
In mirrors in run down bathroom stalls,
her reflection is refracting,
expanding and contracting,
expounding and redacting.
Her time, subtracting.
Her idle eyes rest teary
and her bones grow weary.
This waste is ever so dreary,
but you're out there faking cheery.
In far off rooms you sit and stare,
explaining how it was all fair.
So sit yourself lonely there,
but don't show your face 'round here - no, don't you dare.


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

I've been working on this for a while. Sorry for my apparent absence. Things in the office have been madness since February. I'm not sure if the end of it is really that close either, but I'll still write when I can!

Apparently, I've been listening to / thinking about Counting Crows a lot.






"Waiting here for you, wanting to tell you how I get my ends and my beginning mixed up too, just the way you do, thought if I told you, you might want to stay for just another day or two" - Counting Crows High Life
 
"I'll kiss you again between the bars." - Elliott Smith Between The Bars
 
"My hands they always shake and no one's calling my phone. So what does that make me?" - Kevin Devine Ballgame
 
"This circus is falling down on its knees. The big top is crumbling down. It's raining in Baltimore fifty miles east. Where you should be, no one's around." - Counting Crows Raining In Baltimore
 
"Well everybody knows your name ’round here, but that’s alright and everybody learned your game ’round here, but that’s alright. You told me if I stayed ’round here, you’d find a good enough place to hide, but I see you. I see you. So come on out tonight." - Kasey Anderson and the Honkies (but I only actually know the Counting Crows cover) Like Teenage Gravity

Our Ties

I'm listening to the songs
I shouldn't listen to
in a room near the sky
that doesn't have a view,
so if I close my eyes up tight,
through the fog, I still see you.
You're out there in the world,
whistling right on queue.

You get to breathe
while you let me choke
and you're shiny and new,
but I'm old and broke.
I'll try to forget every word
to me that you spoke:
so I guess that the end
of the world is a joke.

Scars are ghosts
of pains that once were
and dreams are realities
with a filter and a blur.
I feel you sometimes, still,
and my stomach does stir.
I wonder and reason
and plead to infer.

But now I have found
more perfect eyes
and more perfect hands
and more perfect thighs.
I have language
greater than lies.
There's really nothing broken,
after all, except our ties.

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

This poem is about letting it hurt, but not letting it run you into the ground. It's about the weird dichotomy of moving on with shadows and phantoms still lurk over your shoulder. It's about being crazy, but - at the end of the day - still being just sane enough to function. But, overall, it's about those rare, perfect moments when your brain stops stirring and your hands stop shaking and your feet hit solid ground.

Or it's about whatever you need it to be about.







"It's taken so long to feel like a kid again. All my clothes are ripped, my channel was skipped: I was shiny and new back then." Socratic The Critics (Oh, yes I did.)

"If dreams are like movies, then memories are films about ghosts." Counting Crows Mrs. Potter's Lullaby

"Spring blooms and you find the love that's true, but you don't know what now to do 'cause the chase is all you know and she stopped running months ago." Death Cab For Cutie Your Heart Is An Empty Room

"Remember that the only things we need sometimes are chilly nights and warmer thighs 'cause there's nothing like being held." Saves The Day Hold

Little Doubt

When your eyes are closed,
your mind won't sleep.
Old figures haunt and hover
and wince and weep.
They reach out to touch,
but they scratch you deep
and they whisper sweet-nothings,
but talk is cheap.

So, you think that you're quite
over it now.
It's a promise you've made
to yourself, a vow,
and those voices are faint
so you disavow,
but you're not sure of who or what
or even how.

Yet, gentle hands and soft eyes
help to remind you
that Good comes
in batches of few
and far between,
but true.
Somewhere in your heart you guessed,
but never knew.

Let time drag your
old habits out,
kicking and screaming
and whaling about.
Lay history to rest
and take a different route.
In gentle hands and soft eyes,
let there be little doubt.

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

I've been quiet for a while. Oops. Life has been life-y and busy. Lots of things have changed since the last time I posted anything (back in November), both personally and professionally. Whether by fate or by luck or by accident, I'm taking a new path.

I wrote this last week, but things at work got crazy last week and I never got around to appropriately tweaking it until now. It's about how you'll always have your demons, but you shouldn't shut out your saints.








"I try to will myself away while shouting habits plead their case. So when the sun sears through my eyes, my beggar's brain can't compromise. I splash cold water. I draw the curtains. I stay inside." Kevin Devine You'll Only End Up Joining Them

"But I'll walk my own road. I'll go where you won't go. You won't put me through hell. 'Cause now I see through you. Believe what you need to. Go haunt someone else." - Kevin Devine Go Haunt Someone Else

"I don't want to live like I'm dead anymore, so keep that away from me." Kevin Devine Wait Out The Wreck

Prime

Thanks for asking;
no, I'm fine.
What hurts right now
is I wasted my time.
Nothing to show,
not a nickel, not a dime,
but my blood is still pumping
and I haven't reached my prime,
just the end of a line
and I'd give it back if I could
and leave you stripped
where you stood,
choose "ignore"
and mean it like I should,
but you were always
so fucking misunderstood
and never any fucking good.
I just don't know what to do
with what's left of me.
I wish I had a clue.
I can't find myself
and everything else is askew -
anyway -
and now my thoughts are few
and you won't remember
and you're onto something new
and I'm stuck here
and I still miss you.

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

This poem is about digging a ditch and throwing all your fucking time, energy, and memories of someone in it.











"Fucking leave. And don't forget to leave your front door key and, after that, you can find your own way (find your own way) back." I Am The Avalanche Gravedigger's Argument

"You can't keep what you did not have, can't even give it back." Kevin Devine 11/17

"You're bleeding out your heart full of soul, so misunderstood, so misunderstood, so misunderstood, so misunderstood. I'd like to thank you all for nothin'. I'd like to thank you all for nothin' at all..." Wilco Misunderstood

"I've been looking for some time, in a room full of numbers, for my prime." Middle Brother Blue Eyes

"Another late night drive by you, I miss you so much. I know it's stupid, but I'm saying this to you. I mean it too." Hot Rod Circuit Supersad

Magic Wish

There's a wall
that won't come down
and chains
that leave me bound
and I hear your voice -
it's smooth and calm -
but I fear the fall,
the blast, the bomb.
When the dust settled,
this time, I want to be standing.
I want to escape
the lashing and the branding.
I want to know
in certain eyes
I can still be safe;
there is no guise.
A magic wish,
a beating heart,
but please don't say
I was wrong from the start.
Your smiles heal
innately,
but have you seen
my wrists lately?
I hide in dark corners
and underneath beds.
You'll have to come find me.
I'll need to be led.

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

This is about starting to move forward, but finding you can't, that you're frozen, that you're going to need to be pushed. It's about accepting the wreck that you are and praying others can too.

This also just seems appropriate for 11/11/11. :)


(Tara, this one's for you, girl. ;) )



"Chain...I feel the words falling a rhythm; I see the wind bearing its decision to never give in..." The Fire Theft Chain

"You got a piece of me, but it's just a little piece of me and I don't need anyone and these days I feel like I'm fading away...." Counting Crows Have You Seen Me Lately?

"You can't keep what you did not have, can't even give it back." Kevin Devine 11.17

All Over Again

You appeared in the fog
as if you'd been there all along
whispering the same old sweet-nothings,
singing the same old sad songs.
We said we'd have a drink
every now and then,
but we've missed the summer
all over again.
Now the leaves are changing
and so are the times
and I wish I had something more
than these wretched rhymes
to keep of you in my hands,
but there's nothing there.
I'd call out your name.
All I'd get is a stare.
Ice cold eyes
cut like glass
and silence speaks;
it doesn't pass.
Over, in another state,
in another time or another place,
you remember a sound;
you remember a face.
You remember how warm
you used to feel
when that emptiness in your stomach
wasn't real.

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

It's about how I hope some part of you will eventually regret it.







"It's burning up in here even though the bed is cold on your side. I'd rather die then spend this night here without you." New Found Glory It's Been A Summer

"I'm wasting away. I find time to pine when pining away my time. Within sin. With no redemption. We will find our souls and the shells they're kept in. All wasted away." Glassjaw Everything You Ever Wanted To Know About Silence

Bleeding Art

Some days I don't know my own name
and I wonder if you ever feel the same.
On you I will place all the blame
for a sickness you never tried to tame.
Did it tie you up, tape your mouth shut?
Push you down and punch you in the gut?
Or did it just give you a reason to cut
and run and stay in your self-made rut?
Because it came out from your heart
and it pulled me apart.
It lied to me from the very start,
but I turned it into my own bleeding art.
You are in all my colors and all my words.
You're in the fish and in the birds.
You're in all the sentences I overheard
and in ever picture my tears blurred.
So, when you look in the mirror, you should see my face.
My visage should make your heart race.
I should be embedded in that space
in the back of your mind that you just can't erase.

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

This is about other people's mistakes that wind up only hurting you and all you can do is write angry poetry about it.

I'm not generally a vengeful person, but when you screw me over twice it's tough not to hate you. I'm a sucker, though, so I'll probably always be here for you when you want me. You should really just want me more.







"She don't even know my name. She won't even look my way..." Ultimate Fakebook She Don't Even Know My Name

"Oh great, here I go again I'm stuck in this rut..." (Really, this entire song. All the time.) Saves The Day Three Miles Down

"Stay hydrated from from a double shot, get my nourishment from a punch in the gut, never really felt I had the best of luck. I gotta big big mouth that just won't shut up." Middle Brother Middle Brother

"You were the moon held high. You broke black with your clean light. You're words I can't say right anytime I try." Kevin Devine 11.17

Understood

I can’t reach out
and touch you.
Then again,
I guess I never could.
I saw us once
in a room with a view,
our intentions mislead,
but not misunderstood.
If you’d just love me,
I’d swear to love you too.
I wouldn’t throw that term around.
No one ever should.
The shadows you cast
are far between and few,
but my memory is, 
to a fault, pretty good.

I see you in the moon
that shines bright overhead
and in the stars;
so I pray for rain
and I almost feel you
here in this bed,
but I know it's just
a trick of my brain.
Come find me when
you feel yourself fed
up with your choices
and your perfect pain.
Let a good one go,
know the dread,
know you lost
and there’s nothing to gain.

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


The sky was totally clear Saturday night when I came home.

I'll probably regret posting this one at some point. I feel like it's really only partially developed, but I don't want to get to a point in my head where I can completely develop it, so I think I'm just going to let this one go. There's a lot going on here.

I still look up at the sky and wonder if you're seeing what I'm seeing...and wondering if you're wondering if I'm seeing what you're seeing. I need to stop it. At least the second part of that.







"My heart is gone. It drove to the shore, swam out in the night, way out past the lines. I heard that now it lives in the south of West Central Spain, drinking off the pain..." Saves The Day Daybreak

"I turned you into a conversation piece and the things you take for granted turn out to be the things that you need..." Kevin Devine Letting A Good One Go

"I’m at peace, sainted and waiting, for my perfect pain to speak for me again." Kevin Devine Awake In The Dirt

Company

You're just another boy
who ruined another girl
and if I were better
I'd also be bigger,
but I want to watch you burn
and I want to know
you'll never sleep
sound.
Bound
and gagged
by time and circumstance -
a sinister dance -
we rolled our dice;
we took our chance.
I'd still stand by your side
every day if you’d let me.
But writing your own tragedy
doesn't make you a hero
and perpetuating your own misery
doesn't mean I'll keep you company.

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

It feels weird posting a poem from home.

Hope everyone had a relaxing Labor Day! Have you hugged your Union rep today?










“And I guess I could be bigger, but I'd rather make you pay...” Pedro The Lion Rehearsal

“It's hard to be the better man when you forget you're trying; it's hard to be the better man when you're still lying...” Brand New Handcuffs

“And I've known trouble all my life and I'm sick of asking why; it's like screaming at a set of dice...” Kevin Devine Trouble

“A laundry list of problems doesn't make you interesting and never getting help doesn't make you brave. Not listening to reason doesn't mean that you have faith. Your just cutting off your nose to spite your face...” Straylight Run Sympathy For The Martyr