Choking Titles

Show Business

Thu, 13 Jun 2013 14:59:17 -0400

There is no grand gesture, no lines to be read

Your spotlights are aimed just right

And I can see the reflect of your reaction

Retracting from your rapture.

Ha! You said you couldn’t read lips

Never pinned you for a liar, love

But again, you’d never pin me for a fool.

I promised to miss and forget your last sentence

As long as you could forgive my sins.

How do we decide who wins?

Could we pass the time striking lights at your nervous banter

And asking for loose cigarettes and warm beer?

There is no whiskey blues, no sad love song

No droning pitch.

No grand gesture towards the glamor

Of the joyless starlet.

xclumsyxheartx: nightskygoddess: I laughed so hard at this!...

Mon, 13 May 2013 00:52:07 -0400

xclumsyxheartx:

nightskygoddess:

I laughed so hard at this! ;0)

The lizard is just like “…what?”

Loud & Clear

Fri, 12 Apr 2013 17:40:00 -0400

Those are not your bones

And the moon gestures to the horseman

Who rides again

Tonight, Tonight he rides

Reaped your regret, collecting debt

Your horror is your own,

All joy is lost on you, my friend

Cause tonight

The white horseman rides again.

_______________________________________________

Drank the dusty bottles

You were saving for celebration

Oh, baby

You could have been a king

So now I drink

Toasting to the failure

We’ve turned into art

In honor of your god awful

Talent of fucking shit up.

But You Remain Ageless

Tue, 22 Jan 2013 23:13:00 -0500

Have you ever cried because it’s all so beautiful?

Everything.

From the sorrow you once had to the smiles you’ll always have.

From the confusion to the knowledge.

From nostalgia to the presence of everything, everyone.

Have you ever cried because the beauty has overwhelmed you?

You’re speechless and full.

You’re timeless and now.

You’re careless and hopeful.

You just are.

Always

Sat, 22 Dec 2012 19:04:36 -0500

There’s always an answer

But we aren’t satisfied

There will never be new.

Dreams repeat.

Skies collapse.

You can brush the dirt

from your bruised knees

but your heart

will always be too heavy.

Nine Lives About abortion. Vulgar and not for the sensitive...

Thu, 20 Dec 2012 00:07:00 -0500

Nine Lives

About abortion. Vulgar and not for the sensitive type. A mix and poem done by me!

Nine Lives

Fri, 14 Dec 2012 18:33:00 -0500

I picture this as a punk/grunge/ or spoken word/slam. I need to find a guitarist!

Nine lives like a cat

Claws out; attack

Hiss. Hiss.

Bloody embryonic kiss

Gutless; Faceless

Scrape. Scrape.

My baby’s veins are black

My baby’s lips are dry

My baby finally died.

Shakes his dick at the feminist

She says ‘my baby met his fate’

My baby’s veins are black

My baby’s face is cracked

I shake my tits at the misogynist

He says ‘My baby is misplaced’

I want my baby. Who took my baby?

She shakes the blood from her thighs

She says ‘my baby finally died’

My womb is poisoned

My womb is liberated.

Murder. Murder.

They ignore the quarter sized clots

bits of hope; Pieces of hearts

The whore says ‘you could never be me’

His shame is silent.

My baby climbed my leg

My baby was stomped again

My baby finally died.

Nine lives like a cat.

My baby will come back

Attack. Attack.

The Doctor KNOWS.

Sat, 24 Nov 2012 17:15:32 -0500

The Doctor KNOWS.

"Ask for work. If they don’t give you work, ask for bread. If they do not give you work or bread,..."

Sat, 24 Nov 2012 17:13:37 -0500

“Ask for work. If they don’t give you work, ask for bread. If they do not give you work or bread, then take bread.”

- Emma Goldman, Anarchism and Other Essays (via anarcho-queer)

thelieinliza: ineffableshe: Fuck yeah Baltimore. Seen on...

Sun, 18 Nov 2012 17:49:46 -0500

thelieinliza:

ineffableshe:

Fuck yeah Baltimore. Seen on Charles street just south of Lanvale (Taken with Instagram)

brilliant

My Movement

Sun, 18 Nov 2012 03:30:25 -0500

A few years ago a lover wrote me (one of many) a poem. The last one he wrote me before we ended. Just a few days ago I finally wrote a response. Sometimes you need time.

Movement I

“Mine” you promised with a smirk
Twisted and bound by white rope.
You claimed my innocence your’s to abolish
You promised to give me solace.
Carved your intentions in my thighs,
Your bed temporary territory to cry.
But her blood was fresh on the sheets
You the Lord of Cheats.
Snow and ripped jeans; refusing to wear your coat.
Undecided if I should stay.

Movement II

Her swollen stomach full of promise
Your blue eyes searching for compromise
locked your secrets in a black trunk
Ignoring all of your madness.
A greyhound and baffled infant son,
You refusing to admit she won.
The back burner lover called to the scene
Free to openly love me.
But you kept your love quiet
Expecting me to understand your language.

Movement III

You can blame me for our detour,
I’ll accept it.
Convict me for betrayal
I’ll accept the truth.
His eyes were green and knuckles bloody
You too proud to admit you loved me.
I Discovered your heart while he started a war,
My womb became gory and sore
And like a Savior you offered me more,
Recused me from damnation.

Movement IV

How my words contradicted
We became twisted lies of love
Who couldn’t let go of hope.
Our hearts resting from wars,
Cleansed our wounds;etched new scars.
My violence no longer silence
and you opened the door
To escort me out
Found a different reprise.

Movement V

You brought me back to the start
Watching me piece together my heart,
All the while making love to your reprieve
Told me she was too shaky
How you missed me.
Ambulance and turkey dinner
The realization we weren’t bitter.
And you escaped without a noise.
Headed south leaving me without a choice.

looks like fun :)

Thu, 15 Nov 2012 20:40:09 -0500

looks like fun :)

Thank The Populace

Wed, 14 Nov 2012 22:35:00 -0500

Oh, brother
Where is it you go for solace?
Pegged you for a dreamer,
never a liar.
Never a misshaped and misplaced
apparition of better yesterdays
and flaky tomorrows.

Thought I wasn’t alone
Cowarding in the icy sheets
of our beds.
Could have sworn you came to me,
asking for a place to rest,
Curled in the warm appearance
of love and friendship.
Oh, brother
Are you no longer comfortable?

Have you sprung from our sheets,
Half dressed, not really awake
reciting Kerouacisms
between deep, disappointing breaths?

Have you found a way through the dark?

Felt your way past the chunky liftboards
and rusted bedframes,
found your way with one hand,
Oh, brother
Are you already out the door?

Are you well rested and wandering?
Are you full, warm and alive?
Are you bellowing with laughter from the delusions
we ate when we were younger?
Are you adsorbing our memories in sheet form?
Are you reciting longing in the form of jokes?
Are you happy?

Oh, brother
where do you go for solace?
I thought I was a dreamer,
But I am just as foolish as you.

I am green terror and resentful
I am suspicious of your bravery
to find a way out.
Oh, brother
why did you leave me behind?
Was I resistant and irrational?
Loud and too furious to take in the night?
Am I part of what you escaped?

Is there only solace where I do not rest?

<3 Boots make a bitch sexier….

Fri, 09 Nov 2012 22:36:03 -0500

<3 Boots make a bitch sexier….

Too Tired.

Sun, 14 Oct 2012 23:37:37 -0400

Often I want to bit my lips until they bleed. Craving fat lips. Swollen tongue.

Discolored pink turned spotted black and blue.

Often.

This is what sorry feels like.

This is what anger looks like.

This is what love is.

MmmmMmmm MindFucking

Sat, 13 Oct 2012 00:07:49 -0400

MmmmMmmm MindFucking

I Wanna Be Your Terrorist

Wed, 10 Oct 2012 00:33:17 -0400

I am sitting here
listening to the winding down
of cocaine debates,
I am flying high above
the idea that freedom
is in this room
and finding windows to escape through.
I am burning holes
in every thought
and blowing ashes
outta my face.

I am flying high above my body,
on the outside looking in
and all I am finding
are your obvious cages.
I’m throwing Molotov cocktails
at the windows to be heard,
but cocaine gibberish created a force field
and all my bombs are bouncing back at me
So I am running, trying to retreat.

And baby, I wish you could see
The view from out here,
the sky is brighter than in there.
And I wish you would stop raging petty wars,
and come outside to see me,
Wish you’d stop lying to yourself
and just be free.

But you stay in that room,
nervously biting your nails,
Frantic and refusing to fail,
You’re dangling cigarettes between
your numb lips
and mumbling self defecation
and I’m getting pissed
and building new bombs,
hoping I can burn holes
in your thoughts
and melt expressions off your face,
start a fire and smoke you out,
watch you find an escape route
I wanna break your glass house
and hear you helplessly shout.

Yeah, I wanna be your terrorist
I wanna be your nightmare
I wanna be your red scare,
The earthquake that splits your world in two,
The fire pit that swallows you.

I wanna crash planes into your glass houses,
I wanna knock your ego down a few notches.
I wanna watch you ride debris through the skies
I wanna be your Al Qaeda
I wanna be your terrorist,
baby, I wanna be your terrorist.

Eating Acid

Wed, 10 Oct 2012 00:24:41 -0400

Sunday services in green parks

with vibrating bridges that hold the earth together.

I am trying to avoid the split in the ground

and the heat that pours out the earth’s core.

I do not want to be here.

Now.

I do not want to fake patience,

but I do not want them to think me weak.

So I will laugh and find mockery in the big details,

I will find humor in the dark places of my mind

and I will not steer away from the rocks

nor tell them I wish to be safe

I have no warnings left to give,

I have no unheard sentiments,

I am on repeat.

I do not wish to be here.

Now.

I have used my mind too many times

and now my imagination is all dried up

and I cannot think of an escape

I am tired.

I am crawling inside myself

screaming for circumstance to break,

I am smiling and laughing,

chain smoking and ranting

hoping someone will help me.

Blue with pride and gasping for air,

I do not want to be here.

Now.

Holy SHIT

Thu, 03 May 2012 20:11:00 -0400

Haven’t been on here in a while. Oh well. Been writing songs and shit.. but I can’t figure out how to play the music I want. I hear punk and blues…

King Henry Smile

Easter weekend

Eating acid with the people next door.

I Fell face down on the floor

when You came walking in

with the glow of King Henry.

April weekends

And the pope is on TV

He’s telling me

to buy jesus’ latest CD

And you’re smoking a cigarette

and I’m thinking too much

and these people are outta touch…. (shout)

They’re sleeping on the job

they’re trying to be clever

But sound just like broken records.

And you’re telling me ‘bout Easter,

and claiming it yours,

As I pick myself off the floor,

You’re laughing and smiling,

and they’re remaining quiet

As I admire your King Henry smile.

Ride

Let’s take a ride down south,

and make some mistakes,

Let’s see how long’ll take

to raise the stakes

Baby, let’s go for a ride,

to the center of the world,

let’s smoke cigarettes

til our heads whirl.

Then we can head West

find some rest.

We can head East

for a short reprieve.

We can swim across the Atlantic

without getting wet

We can build a home

we can break bones

We can make promises

til our hearts explode.

Let’s take a ride

and find some chaos

Let’s forget the past & get lost

Let’s find a way to get back home,

Let’s find a way to be alone.

caliginosity

Wed, 31 Aug 2011 04:10:51 -0400

I prayed for a savior to find me

in night’s softest embrace-

that only a child could feel.

And twisting in my body

little fingers ready to die

Told me a savior would arrive.

A rag doll’s fierce blue eyes

and placid temperament.

I prayed to be humbled;

saved from mistakes;

needing directions

to wash blood off my hands.

dilated between thighs

of beaten fortitude

I listened to the whimpers

of my tired body.

Quiet blue; loud red

asking my dying kin

if a savior would come to me.

But night’s embrace not soft

tiny limbs sucked from my body,

but still pretended she lived.

Only a mad river

washing up pieces

of recollections I locked away-

called on me; the moon; the ripples

to drown; to emerge myself,

convinced a hand would find me.

I died in a river of disrepute

Still begging for a savior.

A voice shook the earth,

and swallowed the rivers

carried me back to land,

among the blue stars

and white coats of arctic wolves

My eyes saw again!

And before me a savior was born.

But he was only a man

a man with a broken heart

and no stories to tell.

a man, ah yes, a man.

Discreetly bestowed

my indiscretions

He unaware of my intentions.

My intent to pull him in;

to cement his legs

and drag him to the river-

We would drown together

My savior and I-

in peace; in silence

under and away from

the sounds of the stars

the humming trees,

the chuckling jackals.

Pegged him for a savior

who spoke of sin

pegged me for a liar

an angel shape shifting

and struggling to hide

the prophecies inside my head.

I spoke nothing; something;

I cannot remember.

Demented laughter

echoed through our ears

out my mouth; a curse.

If I was to live; to be saved

he had to die with me.

But he saw the weeping angel

whose wings turned to dust

whose flesh became scales

whose eyes were fire!

He wrapped me in silver,

left me in dead grass

caliginosity only monsters can see,

looking down he spoke a lie

fled the scene; no proper goodbye.

Chained to a blurred image

of what heaven could be

I begged for a savior

I prayed to my dead kin,

I asked forgiveness

and closed my eyes

for my final sleep.