Beware you are.Tumblr (3.0; @jrnlss)http://www.jrnls.com/<p>The problem being that I lean just enough in the wrong direction to carry on a teenage dream, into my 30’s and it remains tangible and maddening. That I might quit or see it through so that my children know nothing of the contrast; there’s a dream.</p>http://www.jrnls.com/post/17487596519http://www.jrnls.com/post/17487596519Sun, 12 Feb 2012 08:47:21 -0600<p>Mornin’ waves <br/> Are the aftermath<br/> Of middle night terror<br/> Awake<br/> Bedside beauty <br/> Uncover the day<br/> Reveal the times to come<br/> And I’m famished<br/> So please, let’s get some breakfast</p>http://www.jrnls.com/post/15130206191http://www.jrnls.com/post/15130206191Sun, 01 Jan 2012 11:09:20 -0600“Silence is argument carried out by other means.”<br/><br/> - <em>Che Guevara</em>http://www.jrnls.com/post/14918019536http://www.jrnls.com/post/14918019536Wed, 28 Dec 2011 08:48:06 -0600<p><p class="p1">behold the fearful marching home<br/>“beware you are the constable”<br/>create the enigmatic folds<br/>to eliminate the robotic flies<br/>paint the past with lightning bolts<br/>and enter this life with future signs<br/>raise the stillborn alien forms<br/>let them cultivate a plastic heart<br/>a box with which we persevere <br/>a wall that traps the insincere<br/>a cancer of mediocrity<br/>a vial of subhuman clay<br/>stave the forceful and forlorn<br/>whittle down the circle’s edge<br/>buried in sand and in defeat<br/>read the words sewn into skin<br/>through sheets of silence we will survive<br/>but through sheets of romance we will die<br/>raise the stillborn alien forms<br/>let them cultivate a plastic heart<br/>unwind the flying frozen birds<br/>release the keys that lock the mind<br/>into the garden the fearful march<br/>and one by one they fill the grave <br/>“beware you are the constable”<br/>be where you are when you are not here</p></p>http://www.jrnls.com/post/14069046684http://www.jrnls.com/post/14069046684Sun, 11 Dec 2011 10:38:00 -0600<p><p class="p1">we’re singing songs of praise <br/>to please the overlord<br/>we’re singing songs of praise in spite<br/>stitched up in radio waves<br/>to seize the bottled light<br/>we’re singing songs of praise in spite<br/>dancing on soldier’s graves<br/>that we might steal their eyes<br/>we’re singing songs of praise in spite<br/>we’re barking songs of praise<br/>to harvest the moonless sky<br/>we’re singing songs of praise in spite<br/>igniting cancer’s haze<br/>spiral rain melts ancient ways<br/>we’re singing songs of praise in spite <br/>submerged in cathartic rage<br/>prelude to windowless sleep<br/>we’re singing songs of praise in spite<br/>evil cries that the brain obeys<br/>and commits to memory<br/>we’re singing songs of praise in spite<br/>we’re reciting songs of praise<br/>to whet the need for war<br/>we’re singing songs of praise in spite</p></p>http://www.jrnls.com/post/14020045790http://www.jrnls.com/post/14020045790Sat, 10 Dec 2011 11:18:02 -0600<p><p class="p1">restrain the warriors<br/>detail a lovers’ breach<br/>set them free<br/>and disappear</p></p>http://www.jrnls.com/post/13954585817http://www.jrnls.com/post/13954585817Thu, 08 Dec 2011 22:04:00 -0600<p><p class="p1">when the fire burns letters of death in your mind<br/>that black hand of doom grips the ocean’s divide<br/>fruits bore from soil and glass bore from sand<br/>creatures of fortune but victims of man<br/><br/>when the water spawns demons of grace in your mind<br/>the triangle leaves churn the spirals inside<br/>papers of excise and proverbs of old<br/>teachings of danger but fears of below</p> <p class="p1">time, the evil is time</p></p>http://www.jrnls.com/post/13861871994http://www.jrnls.com/post/13861871994Tue, 06 Dec 2011 23:09:00 -0600<p><p class="p1">death in the underground</p> <p class="p1">and so I walked beyond<br/>the marbled gate of enchantment<br/>followed by a mist of exhaust <br/>and a limp handshake from god himself <br/>treachery and chaos explode <br/>   from the benevolent creatures <br/>filling the cave with echoes of applause <br/>   and mindless confessions <br/>set me free and let me die in peace, <br/>atop the razed kingdom of artifice and emotion <br/>alone at the edge of the world<br/>the midday bells cleared a path of freedom <br/>and the untimely death of this cult of children</p> <p class="p2">death in the underground</p></p>http://www.jrnls.com/post/12554587853http://www.jrnls.com/post/12554587853Wed, 09 Nov 2011 06:59:00 -0600<p><span>blessed is the flesh and blood</span><br/><span>blessed is the broken home</span><br/><span>blessed is the widow’s toil</span><br/><span>blessed is the path we take</span><br/><span>alone</span><br/><br/><span>blessed is the shame of hope</span><br/><span>blessed is the beggar’s voice</span><br/><span>blessed is the trail of tears</span><br/><span>blessed is the path we made</span><br/><span>alone</span><br/><br/><span>blessed is what never was</span><br/><span>blessed is that one true love</span><br/><span>blessed is the wayward son</span><br/><span>blessed is the path we rode</span><br/><span>alone</span></p>http://www.jrnls.com/post/12472045727http://www.jrnls.com/post/12472045727Mon, 07 Nov 2011 11:06:00 -0600<p><span>a powdery kiss<br/>nonsense for the heathen<br/>streetlight romance on 19th place<br/>come to my door<br/>let yourself in<br/>ignore the kettle’s cry<br/>morning birds sing your song<br/>a march of medieval light<br/>the fleshless friction absorbed<br/>and your brown eyes pierce<br/>this dance of death<br/>brings us to life</span></p>http://www.jrnls.com/post/12229523132http://www.jrnls.com/post/12229523132Tue, 01 Nov 2011 23:13:49 -0500<p><span>the fear of removing flesh with teeth from tip of finger is not as scary as squeezing leg with hand at half strength</span></p>http://www.jrnls.com/post/12167935694http://www.jrnls.com/post/12167935694Mon, 31 Oct 2011 14:11:10 -0500<p><p class="p1">he walked down the hall<br/>that front-facing eidolon<br/>crept in his shadows<br/>creaky structural bones<br/>watched him enter our room<br/>and touch her face<br/>under her shirt, raised my hand<br/>a winter voice rattled below<br/>leave her be so she might not know<br/>the alchemist’s surprise<br/>the mess of holy water<br/>ungrateful little rodents</p></p>http://www.jrnls.com/post/12162276395http://www.jrnls.com/post/12162276395Mon, 31 Oct 2011 10:42:40 -0500<p><span>up tight and out of control</span><br/><span>frat boy bee-bop</span><br/><span>skull fucking honor student</span><br/><span>first class middle weight</span><br/><span>iron clad destiny</span><br/><span>pick ‘em: losers</span><br/><span>flip the table and scream</span><br/><span>she’ll never say yes</span><br/><span>to a man</span><br/><span>with a penchant <br/>        for explosives</span></p>http://www.jrnls.com/post/12036678180http://www.jrnls.com/post/12036678180Fri, 28 Oct 2011 12:06:00 -0500“You say, I’m stale, small, gooey, bruised, and brittle, and at home you have one thing to look forward to: the eating of a favorite cookie.”<br/><br/> - <em><em>Dear Dead Person</em>, Benjamin Weissman</em>http://www.jrnls.com/post/11731796662http://www.jrnls.com/post/11731796662Fri, 21 Oct 2011 08:52:27 -0500<p>jibberish with a capital ‘D’</p>http://www.jrnls.com/post/11624138369http://www.jrnls.com/post/11624138369Tue, 18 Oct 2011 16:08:00 -0500<p><p class="p1">crystalline skies <br/>and a secret obsession with romance<br/>the monster is dead <br/>at the hands of the sailor<br/>silver waves striking back <br/>with a fear from below<br/>bristling and lonely the silence ain’t golden<br/>when the children they don’t make it home<br/>and the poems that are read <br/>at the side of the bed<br/>are manifestos to murder their own</p> <p class="p1">glory, glory</p> <p class="p1">raise up black hand of doom<br/>return the winter’s ale<br/>swallow the secrets of man<br/>and hold yourself in the scent of betrayal<br/>white roses for the king and queen<br/>white roses on empty streets<br/>the riot squad is on it’s way</p></p>http://www.jrnls.com/post/11207965065http://www.jrnls.com/post/11207965065Sat, 08 Oct 2011 20:59:50 -0500<p><p class="p1">take off your head and assimilate<br/>please cautious child<br/>standing tall on a river of bones<br/>skipping dreams o’er flowers of freedom<br/>we are your suicide<br/>we are your last call queens</p> <p class="p1">sensations<br/>sensations<br/>sensations<br/>sensations</p></p>http://www.jrnls.com/post/11101098414http://www.jrnls.com/post/11101098414Thu, 06 Oct 2011 09:50:00 -0500<p><span>you were told to save tomorrow<br/>put your pants on your head<br/>smile at the camera<br/>black and white humility<br/>i can’t help but think we’re doomed<br/>i’m pretty positive i left the oven on<br/>why is there blood on the calendar<br/>marking days of wrest<br/>these two nickels can’t make me rich<br/>but that junkies promise <br/>has made me feel proud<br/>this is a psalm<br/>dedicated to the only girl i never loved<br/>she told me i was wrong<br/>i told her i was gone<br/>now we dance </span></p>http://www.jrnls.com/post/10850354886http://www.jrnls.com/post/10850354886Fri, 30 Sep 2011 11:18:00 -0500<p>reckless is the child<br/> who believes chaos is warm and fuzzy<br/> serpentine the dances behold<br/> an artistic freedom better left to church going midwives</p> <p>lonely is the king<br/> who preaches of bloodless conquest<br/> horsemen on wheels brag still <br/> society acts the void, swallowing again the thieves parade</p> <p>desperate is the drunk<br/> who counts the alley way lights<br/> hooded fury - paint covered hands<br/> we all know Dillinger wore it in pink</p> <p>blessed is the deceased <br/> who sleeps with insulated sins<br/> fact checked and docile<br/> wondering if democracy is real</p> <p>see you on the under side</p>http://www.jrnls.com/post/10754339694http://www.jrnls.com/post/10754339694Tue, 27 Sep 2011 21:51:46 -0500<p><span>the morning light glazed<br/>dictating focus in the first degree<br/>a magnificent plume of the artificial<br/>“call me the prodigal son”<br/></span><span>or your first kiss after the rain<br/></span><span>tumultuous and wry<br/></span><span>the last stop never came<br/>r</span><span>iding in circles of plaid regret<br/></span><span>losing is the new questionnaire<br/></span><span>just don’t pay for the soundtrack</span></p>http://www.jrnls.com/post/10694705750http://www.jrnls.com/post/10694705750Mon, 26 Sep 2011 14:25:20 -0500