Sunday, September 19, 2010


I can see the New York sky light.
And I know,
that everything,
is going to all right. :)

Thursday, September 16, 2010


I laugh at the devil
When he comes to collect
Everything I have
I earned with my breath
It was my hand that grasped the rose
It is my back that suffers itching arrows
It is I not him that built this life
He is but another image of the imaginary god
And flawed because he thinks
I owe him anything
I'll take my medicine
Fight him from my soul
He is powerless
I am in control
And even if I turn and run to the ledge
I remember her eyes
And compromise
To live instead,
In this life I can change the world
Much better then if I was dead.
The go train is leaving
I won't punch my ticket
Take the free ride instead.

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Coffee and Cigarettes.

Coffee and cigarettes,
Cigarettes and coffee.

My teeth look like English Toffee.

What seems fit.

For years all I craved,
was to live my life to it's fullest,
and to take my life when it seems fit.

Now, I still got a lot to learn.

And a life to live,

but it's come apparent.

My desire,
for taking my life,
is overwhelming me.
It's affecting,
to the point,
of self destruction.

The Rose Bush.

I sold my soul over a rose bush for her.
And seen the other side of his sick joke.
And now that I have truly found my love,
The Devils come to collect.

Wednesday, September 8, 2010


I smell blood here.
I smell the chopped trees
The caged nature.
The roar of the city a far cry from the desolate howl of the loon.
You'll see no heron nested in these trees.
We have delivered death
And destruction.
The walls we have built to call home have devoured us,
Empowered us to strive past survival to luxury
Waste in the haste of life
We're to young to appreciate until we're to old to care.
Dead aristocrats buried here
Given a gift of land that should never have been received
We brought the European disease of private land ownership overseas, hacked out 100 acres with good intentions and a sense of need,
Breeded till we depleted the soil far as the eye can see.
From sticks and stones
to concrete and steel
Our flowers are shorn for maximum appeal, all so splendid it can hardly be real,
All so real it can't last.
If this tomb tells you anything, it is the future moves fast,
And the end we seek will come at long last.
Uninvited as the truth.

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Monday, September 6, 2010

La vie

La vie c'est tres incredable
Ne pas du sortie mais la fin,
Possez poussez avec fort ideologie,
Mais la fin c'est certaiment.

Lustig ich kann nicht in fransouzich denken,
Mein kopf kann nicht die worte finden
Traurich ich hat nicht besser studiert mich, Weil die opprutuitie hat ich.

Even in German my mind is struggled
To find the joy and pain and wonder
So I say tu che mon petit mouffette.
I love you, je t'aime, ich liebe dich, na kerang la pai mang po gawki duk.

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