Poetry_In_her_eyes

  Untamed Love is not the gentle breeze of fairy tales there are no happy ending with love untamed but an unbreakable vow melting skin from boney fingers if we take our oath lightly and cast it out A love so deep the gods themselves cannot sate the yearning to be more than we are It is not the love of neat little houses and routine nor two point three kids and a tesla living in the garage but the kind of love that makes demons blush and mothers lift cars from children trapped beneath Love demanding sacrifice, your life giving all to live for hazel eyes seeing the heart of reality piercing the veil of your darkest secrets caressing sins and hubris and the child inside giving strength by loving weakness if only to ask more than you ever thought you could give Love that knows mud and pain and sadness seeing in your heart that you're no shining knight but someone beaten and dirty yet still standing in a world that has already given up An untamed love to be both cherished and cursed tha...

  Living life self proclaimed Born under the house of rebellion In the sun/son of self restraint is in retrograde Pointing at you heart here aim right here But life just laughs taking the easy way out wearing you down Holding you under choking on the vomit spitting up sin If you die of loneliness would it be considered a suicide Or just a forgotten tragedy

  Flickering on, off, on like god playing with a light switch there, gone, there doubts prevail what did I actually see A beautiful face a feral wolf two images unite and I just stare into a dare from blue/grey eyes hearing a snarl in my mind She writes something slips it under my coffee at the counter a phone number with a missing digit games fuck, not going to call Yet haunted by eyes I really have no choice 3 wrong numbers and bingo on the forth Without asking if I have plans tonight's a full moon, walk with me pick me up at nine, don't be late Borrowed my roommate's best blouse leather jacket and boots my roommate dresses cool I'm right on time offered a little ritual as I enter the chains by the bed throw me want some?... we sip something red Small talk but not boring she has a very intense aura  as if life and death really mattered new to the city grew up in a small town come on, or we'll miss the moon beautifu...

  Slings and arrows, center mass dying hurts, lying hurts more a lifetime of pain from innocence born sinning against ourselves living in glass houses The world turned inside out, rearranging our façade what a mind blowing head-trip if not for the fact the trip happened long ago It's only in movies that the hero lives kind of explains why we honor the dead the poor hero dying for the lies he believed hoping Valhalla awaits deep in his grave truth is a sledgehammer but I've been hit harder I am the anti-hero, invisible, even to myself except for the tan lines from the after-glow heroes die with boots on but anti-heroes die with a tan pressing my face to the mirror, describing what I see eyes are windows to the soul in a world gone blind can innocence be regained even as sins remain finding peace in our heart for the demons judging you The good news is, each time we start anew we can reinvent ourselves and grow a little closer to center mass

  Knife fight! Words that cut stab and trust Twisting the blade in rage A lifetime of puckered scars Don't bring a knife to a gun fight Gun barrel glowing red with pain Dares that end it all Armageddon with words 'I don't love you' Gotterdammerung of the soul

  Surfing in Santa Cruz flat and grey just lazy waves rolling through the kelp so we paddled out watching some otters play enchanted by a mom rolling over and over until we realized she was trying to wake the child held to her chest that would never wake again I cried later that night but not then eyes don't cry when the soul in weeping

  I am  death    and I am life both darkness and light    I am  hatred within the heart    and love found in the dark     In weakness I cower from life     with strength I hold on tight    by sin I am condemned    by compassion saved     I am both heaven and hell    a war within the soul    and serenity found    I am everything    for    I am you

 Relevancy is the new sexuality of our time I hear the sound of traffic and street noises, smell the aromas of the city mixed with the mouth watering pleasure of pizza baking. I hear high heels clicking on cement outside and hesitant step as they pause before entering. I sense the brittle brokenness that is so closely guarded, the strength to live with the pain, and the madness to chance fate. I know well the facades we wear pretending we're in control that are at war with our child-like need for one another. There is a perfect imperfection emanating between these two, a balance of sorts that could be destroyed by a single misspoken word, yet survives intact leading to the center of our lives.

  Silence       the crashing silence     of a falling tree when no one's there to hear       the weeping silence   of a loved ones last breath       the holy silence   within our prayers       the anticipating silence     before a first kiss       the pins and needles silence   of basketball's flight at the buzzer       can you hear the sounds of silence   cover your ears and listen   open your soul and hear       Without silence   dividing notes of music music would just be noise   We think silence is the pause within music   but what if   the notes of music     are the pauses within silence

  Chaos was once a god without eyes to see, ears to hear, a mouth to speak, etc. As gifts, holes were bored into Chaos' head that he might view the world as we do. A new hole bored every day (one for each sense) until the seventh day when Chaos died. There's chaos in our bones demanding to be free, a small black hole hidden in our souls, calling to us, pulling us, toward the chaos of life. Our glances slide past strangers we are... afraid, they can see, the endless need, to release this primal plea. So we numb our chaos with lust and desire, to glimpse the open cage through sweat and musk in moments feral and sublime. Endlessly seeking pleasure and pain to feel something... more than nothing, never knowing the chaos of our souls is dying by slow degrees

  Burn it, tear it down, smash it all, throw bricks, set fires, leave nothing standing I am not a Grecian statue, topple the dais you've set me on. I am not a guiding flame, You cannot caress fire or make love to stone. I am crass, I am human I will destroy the images in your mind that makes you think I'm special Humans make love not art or spirits Remove the chains you've placed on me, this hateful prison of the mind. I will leave nothing left to worship and so end my slavery tears won't bring back what never was. What never was, a mocking dream. It is more than enough to be human with lust, desire, weakness, and strength all in equal measure don't just stand there with your mouth open, rip my cloths off and let me show you what it means to be human

  There's something different about the wind that's travelled a long, long way and a weary heaviness as if compressed by the weight of miles yet full of exotic scents and ozone Eagerly you face the breeze now caressing your face as you wet your lips tasting spices from high desert plains and sun baked granite cliffs There's tang on the tip of the tongue alkaline, dry and brittle yet with the softness of thousand year old dust desiccating with love There's something different about the wind inspiring a spiritual wanderlust to find the source on mountain tops and follow from summit to desert to sea seeking birth and mortality of this mistral of longing and desire

  A long time ago in a galaxy far away torn apart as human rights war against corporate greed a line in the sand, hatred at hand the same old story told over and over again cherry picking issues from the safety of computer screens how fearlessly brave these pundits of fame typing their ire and distain while sipping six-packs of energy drinks preaching "look at me" working tirelessly destroying the fabric of society Enough is enough We are all getting played both sides shouting the same refrain but the people won't learn and have never earned the influence they think they deserve for the causes unwittingly served ruled by the global elite anger boils faster incited by puppet masters hatred for your family, friends and neighbors you poor fucking tools we have all been fooled destroying the human race one worthless opinion at a time Just shut the fuck up and stop being used

  hell on earth began with the tick, tick, tock of a clock telling me I'm late for an early grave but truth be told I've been late for everything even kept my mom waiting forever in labor pains that was the first time I didn't let anyone push me around so began a lifetime of refusing to move on command It's not so much the responsibility I mind but the oppression and tyranny of time being ruled by that artificial construct of society once we lived by natural laws using the seasons, moon, and stars to tell us when to plant and sow and harvest how I abhor the minuscule minds forcing us to endure minutes counting down as if the rotation of earth now hung in the balance saving us from annihilation through the tick, tick, tocking of their hearts eventually, the world slows and time pirouettes en dedans a lifetime fighting the clock becomes just simple dance steps finding in the end there are no heroes left no wrongs to right, or wars to fight for time has already won