Posts Tagged ‘old’

Ectype in Sepia

This is something new
So I like the way it looks
I still haven’t gotten used to
The bright vibrant colors.

This is so soft
I like the way it feels
I still haven’t got used to
The touch of the surface.

I think I have grown old
Thinking about how marvelous
Are the shades in this picture
Captivating and keeping me in awe.

(It’s) hard to write about you
With that smile and that glow
It’s best to keep it in stored
In the storage of my memory.

(It’s) hard to look at you
Without pondering possibilities
The hourglass’s broken
Pouring all the specks about.

I think I have grown weary
Thinking about the wind breeze
Waiting by the cold shore
Tallying the phony sirens at bay.

A rag boy stumbling still
From your perspective is skewed
Less oil for this engine to reel
Every feeling once wasted, spewed.

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Insufficient
 
These things will never return or grow back
The end was past long over, now in limbo
Saying payers for the souls kept in the purgatory
Yet Karma hasn’t woken up from its resting place.
 
Being fifteen is like being thirty is like being forty-five
If you don’t learn to love yourself the way that the others won’t
A new young skin that writhes with time, which isn’t your ally
As your friends disappear little by little, death takes care of your adversaries.
 
In this cancerous self-pity of the events you can’t control
Or even begin to comprehend; add the pieces to the puzzle
That you will never solve, but still think of completing…
Destiny is just a playing partner calling checkmate with your hope.
 
So either die under the boot with the dirt, worms and other dog feces
Or rise up with a wilderness spell; strap yourself to go with a big bang
Either is an action or reaction of what this biosphere has been giving you
Inactive, you become the criminal that sell babies to drug lords and world leaders…

Something I wrote for the first band I was in. This was 12 years ago. I did get it recorded. I know I have the cd somewhere around the house…

Never Ourselves
 
None, nothing, empty, hollow, nada
Not here, not there, not anywhere
Not even in my heart or my soul or my body
Not even in my dream or my imagination
Silence, mute, wind bellow the earth
Worms above me, my flesh; rotten
You, my light… fading, fating, dimming
Shimmering and shivering in my face
As something that believe these lies
Not real but truth spoken, ears deaf
Here we become our illusion… death
We start anew, reborn, relief… the end.