common-place

Trying to squelch the desire
the jealousy and worry, my fear and envy
that bubble up in my throat
when I look in your mirrors

you're too cool and annoyingly so
i think ye try too hard
sometimes glamourous sometimes yellow
i know the real you doth afraid too much
your name in lights like your drug
an escape from reality
but i guess i've got some old ways
old arrogance and conceit
i hate bubble game and the color pink
and i think you're too old
to be playing this game
to be craving this much

and you think if you change your name
live the unplain, above the strip
you can run away and forget all the pain
this world doth sustain day to day

i guess i try and avoid because i'm easily swayed
even though i know my face, my place, my ways
that child inside that fears
being left behind, forgotten, overlooked
when its common-place
with books and brains we'd better off
and win this race
that the end of the world will soon erase

tires

figure this thin
let nothing else in
tired long days
spent in fin

fin del sol
of the jack of all trades
cowboy this way
the west road

is now silent and cold
musty and mold
fog sitting untold

sadness and tears unfold

my best friend its been
no anger bin frin
wicked holding it in

careless

i can't help this feeling of selfish
and bored of these people

just wanting this silence
just wanting this music
lullaby
as i float in my own ethanol
wanting my own bliss
for this first time ever
my head, my hair, my own lipstick
and fashion
it takes over

i know you think i should call you
and i'm wondering why i no longer do
in my head to i think i should too
but i don't
and i don't care

i don't care if you just fade off into the distance
if your hair just falls off your head
and my jesters
puppets hanging from the rafters
i could care less about your time
your boring bonding that needs me
that wonders where i go when i am gone
your boring bonding that needs life
that assumes i need it too
and assumes i am not living up to you
i could care less about you

take a risk but take the right ones
for the wrong ones are your ego telling you
to ignore the truth
and that is just plain stupid

my phone rings endless

short blonde bus driver
tuckered out for the night
my eyes slithered twithered
and i fell asleep early
while gangs of old stayed up all night dancing
at the club on drugs

i can't bring myself to pull the skin back on
the old life geez it calls me
but the new life begs me not to go
while my phone rings endless

there is no space and i look down
feeling reverent and above ground
digging in with both hands and feet my journey
in these tips
so into outer space i've floated
still softened by your accpetance
you want me around
but i'm boring
in my own world
in my own head
full of my own self

i can't bring myself to pull the skin back on
it sloughed and sloughed and finally fell off
but still my phone rings endless
and i must sit back and think

out loud out spoken out done

there are some tenets
which cannot be spoken
motor wilson will rise to the occasion

the spokes of this sonnet
ungreased unridden
the days of old coming to a close

with reverence and a smile i say thank you to thee
the words will be new towards some other ending
still keep this page open for access to see
a new word one day incase soliloquy

no longer living in the shadows of fear
no longer hiding from this one or that one
my dear

sleep will come whenever its needed,
if it keeps you up at night so let it be
i'm not saying happiness with always prevail
but widom and knowledge and patience will
keep the spokes turning churning at a steady pace

explore the new places that excite and revive
with your style
we think it's nice
and your smile
will intice

millenium phenomenon

hidden people on blocked web pages
we broadcast our lives like this
where's the privacy gone
where's the mystery gone
we get to know these strange faces

kind of like riding the train in the vast desert
looking down at the Weekly Times
headphones plugged tight
no communication but the glance over the shoulder
holding fast to the rail as we are sped away to our destination
in the big city our office our cubicle wherever
where we log on steadfast

is this where you'd rather meet miss-she's-the-one-i-wanna-spend-the-rest-of-my-life with
or are you looking for an overnight success story to reinvent your own
self-promotion if you've got something to promote or in that sort of business
just staying in contact with friends who's connection long gone
the final thread that superficially says
these are my roots

so simply done
with a few clicks of a mouse
and some words
words that women are known for blabber they call it
because they'r threatened by the knowledge

visual pictures but you're more than just a pretty face
right?
or perhaps you don't really care to be
and your existence is all here in one shape
2 dimensional myspace

overrated

i've got this wing growing out of the side of my back
half of it's covered in fleece
in the midnights twin race
like the indiana 5000

women starve themselves to be thin
and tell me i mustn't get hungry
but this has what has caused the druggin my sister
this anorexic mentality

a mother misled in life
punishing her children for living
a life they did not ask for
subtle messages strewn all over their bedrooms
do this for me do this for me
no one cares about you
i brought you into this world
now let me kill you

and the brave grandmother smoking her maneshewitz
wind walter smoking jungle
tells her grandchildren to stand tall
fuck the man that gathers

there isn't much to it
and silence is overrated
but more valuable than your cheap words sassafras
keep on licking your lips for some smart
cheap boy tries to sell you a story so compelling
you lose your identity

it's not worth it to have your heels dragged through the grass
for love makes them all blathering idiots
we don't need mama to learn us that
still we hang on like its the only thing that matters

dirt and jeans go play in the meadow
don't come home for dinner
this time together is overrated
stop being such a sensitive idiot

crossing

still confused about the same thing
several years running
there is a reason i'm here
i tell myself
a reason to wait and accept the pain
but the punishment appears to be never-ending
am i learning my lesson, and growing
or growing despondent

wanting to hear the explanations
over and over
why am i hiding again?
still the same thing

is there a way for my polarities to exist
together in one plain
because i know they cause people pain
its hard to put your eggs in my basket
when i fluctuate from extreme to extreme
in minutes of time

but in the greater scheme of things
it's not bad
and i'm ok

wondering how these things can crossover someday

retrograde

it seems as though the matter is confused misconbobulated fiddle faddled mixed up and you'r just angry

that its not you with the wayward ways upset that you cannot accept because you want to be like me but maybe it's just not in you
and that should be ok.

i don't know if i'm just not getting old yet, or if its the way it will always be and if the former is true than should i be angry? and if the latter is true should i be scared? and if neither is true than who am i and what is really going on? should i sit down, sit still, and relax? that is not the way i imagined it, nor expected it to be. but maybe thats the natural course i want it to be.

wait until mercury goes strait into the veins
and then break out into an allergic reaction

if i'm still crossing this road, have i chosen the wrong path? or am i just waiting for the light to turn green?

my glove

i carry this love like
a glove that is stretched out
worn in leather
so comfortable a perfect fit

for some reason i struggle
sometimes it confines me
and i wish to tear this glove
throw it's worn out threads
into the trash
sick of the gaping hole in the pointer finger

so i cut off all the fingers
and i got the glove re-stitched
now this glove fit so much better
the leather refinished

but in time the old stains shown through
the stretch out inevitable
more holes new in places we never knew
so i cut off the wrists

and i had them dyed, a new color
gave them some embelleshiments
pearls and gems bedazzler
like my earings

then they became so gaudy
i tore them off once again

i set them aside
knowing my love for the glove
and will revisit them when it becomes winter again

but in the meantime i walk my days alone
in despair wishing the glove was with me
there, everywhere i go in my dreams
my life my love

i know the sadness that ensues
when my glove is ripped away

graves

i've fallen in these holes and i can't get out
i know there is a move but it must wait
it's truly just not going to sew itself back up is it
keeps coming apart at the seams

i guess i've got to start deliberating
setting the sights toward some new vision

no one is happy this way
and i'm a dead wilted weed
that waited for some flower to bloom
but swallowed by drear and gloom
the sunlight never shone
and my leaves browned
expecting and then shot down

you're living for wheels and meals
and i'm begging for some room
to spread this callousled wings
now frozen in time
gliding down to the earth
diving into the ground

and these extremeties must go away
eventually
no one waits for you anyway
living lies why should i even expect them
to
driving my soul deep into the mud
swallowed by the dirt

your judges

spiraling upwards out of this mess
tears came today
this journey finally under way

and by dim light we rock writing rhythms and songs
in the backroom of some santa monica cottage
rolling back the shades and drinking wine
we let the creativity flow

for the expression of some lesson
some divine intervention
and songs that give off the impression
that we're hardened by life

but sweetness endures even in the most aged
the lights too bright on forced stages

and girls trying to be so nice
not remembering the judges
that tried to hold me back

although i guess it was my weakness that
was penetrated

smile, be nice, cordial and quite
wise without too many words that
suggest omnipotence
and impotence
coupled with pretense
your judges stifled such things
that my memory cannot erase
my reactions may not change
going forward

so though, its your way
and may not be your fault
your being thwarts growth
and barrens gardens