Thoughts At Half Past Midnight (My Sweet Summer)

And the girl of progression

Flicks her blonde mass

Adjusts her sweater

Winks at me

While she takes the hand

Of the Peacemaker

Who smiles at me

Knitted cap pulled over his devil ears

Nods to Queen A

Gives her the cue to banish me

With wind and shards of freezing glass

To the solitary silence

Of the cold blue walls in my room.

So I lie here

At half past midnight

Summer brings me salvation

I may have been alone

But alone wasn’t misery

Misery thrives in company.

I was never meant for winter

It beckons to me

Icy branches bow to me

Snow forms a path for me

Leading to cloudy skies

But it is only a glittering lie.

Dirt trails swirled with

Newly shorn meadows

And the hot sun and cool breezes

I belong in the mixture

Stars with energy and jubilation

Cold is just too complacent

We all know I can’t be complacent.

I need a forest

With a crafted plastic ring on my hand

And I need the beach.

But to get there

I cannot look to the past

It is 32 degrees Fahrenheit there now

I can, however

Put pressure on the glass

Cold makes things brittle

And if you push with me

The glass will break

And melt on golden warmed sand.

Apathetic

Time slips in through cracked doors

Slithers across the floorboards

Plucks up what it needs

And leaves no trace.

I miss earlier years

When time was loud

Announcing its arrival

Clanged through

And rattled its departure .

Then I was aware

I crafted my own life

Gave time what I wanted

And kept the rest for myself.

It’s like when Eve stole that apple

Suddenly aware of her nakedness

I was suddenly aware

Of my selfishness

Which I shut off

And became complacent

With what I was given

Never asking for more

Always accepting less.

I no longer care

What is selfless and what is not

I want more

I’m sick of apathy

I will not accept less.

World War A

You think you’re                                          Ready
For me,
Cannons and riffles and knives;
I’m a war machine
Eyes like an atom bomb
I breath Agent Orange
My grenade heart
Pumps mustard gas.

You’re a nation
I’m just a colony
Corrupt and corroded
All I want is for you
Not bother me
But your sights are                                       Set
And you’re fighting to win
Now, which belligerent won?
Was it America or Great Britain?

I have my methods
My tactics and my wisdom
My head’s a battlefield
Where’s you head?
Against some boy again?
You may be the Winter Queen
But how trivial is cold,
When war is made of fire?
And trust me,
I’m full of                                                        Fire.

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Ginsberg

Don’t let the feeling back

Leviathan, leviathan, leviathan

Madman, madman, madman.

Keep your stomach from souring

Quell the spinning in your head

Let the fire burn your veins,

Fuel pumping from your heart.

Hunger, hurt, hunger, anger, hunger.

I’m sick of smiling

I feel Ginsberg words seeping into my pen

I am not somber

No, not somber America

Maybe a blight on the face of which.

Maybe a savior,

Yes, I think I’m Jesus Christ.

How can I prove it?

Well, frankly, I can’t

But it’s true.

Apparently I’m the last child

Without blindness.

Hunger, hunger, hunger,

Don’t let it back.

Grow Up

I am                                                                 Not
Dependent on you
Anymore.
I wish I never was.

I had                                                               Lost
Myself
I thought I needed you
To find me,
When you were the one
Who blocked my view.

In
Reflection,
I considered myself weak
For never truly committing
To the song you gave me,
Maybe the lyrics weren’t true.
But I am strong
For a strong woman does not
Need, she only wants.
I wanted                                                     You

But you don’t want me
And my heart
Deters my head.
So I must replace want
With need.

You aren’t around,
So why should I be?
I don’t need to be
Anything.
Not for you
Not                                                               Anymore.

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Small Town Favorites

I said I’d never deal in redundancy

I can never be content in repetition,

But I’m still in your arms

Still looking into your eyes

Like a scratched CD

Going over and over and over.

Now “I love you” is reversed,

A quick way out

Belligerents neutralized before blood

Casualties avoided

There is no love in war.

There are strings tied to my limbs

You’re the puppeteer

Pulling my arms around you

Despite my frown

Against my will

In bitter ignorance of my craving

To run.

I’m doing my best to fake it

But we both know I’m losing my cool.

I thought I was the girl of change 2.0

I guess I’ve become more of a prototype

And I thought you’d have changed

From the boy I saw

To the boy I knew

But you’ve gone from the boy I knew

To a violent stranger

In my heart’s clothing.

Now I cannot speak, I’ve lost my voice
I’m speechless and redundant
‘Cause I love you’s not enough,
I’m lost for words

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Abigail

Oh my friend

I can feel you slipping away

I can’t remember what it is you say

But I remember when I saw you frown

Every time you think of the woman

In the ground.

I’m trying to keep you alive

But it’s making me crazy

And I need to save you

But who’s going to save me?

I’m trying to forgive you

For the things you do

Tell me, what’s wrong with you?

Oh my friend

What’s left for you in this world?

Life must be hard for such a young girl

And I know you need me here with you

But you’re losing yourself

And now you’ve lost me too.

Mix

My mother’s a crybaby

My father’s gone insane

My best friend is psychotic

And I’m some sort of mix

Of all three.

And for every moment

I get peace

There is eleven more moments

Of chaos.

Cualacino

There she is

The Poet in my head

She rises to wake

Once again

To ponder and wonder

Is it possible to love

With too much vigor?

To have sunken too deep

Into the arms of the protagonist?

The Poet in my head

Makes every word graceful

In moving through my dark thoughts

I am of a cualacino

On the heart of his vigilance:

It is not whether the sight of me remains

But the bitter temperature I leave

Says the Poet in my head.