waking up and realizing it’s still a dream

so you woke up from your dream?
what's that supposed to mean to me?
so i was a fling
in your most recent mem'ries.

and when you came up to me
and asked me "how can you sleep?
without me next to you?"
i responded: "i haven't slept in weeks."

so when will you truly wake up
and see enough is enough?
when you see all that i've become
that's when we'll finally figure
out.

i will become the one that overcomes

i will see it through
the doors to this place
have been sealed
and the wounds on my face
have all but healed,
but i will see this through

i will not be scene,
this seen is nothing new
i have been, but will not again,
the picture you painted
will not hold up to
the time it took to paint it

i wish i was down for you
to give up on me,
but in the truest form
our shadows torn
made giants by the setting sun
dancing in the halls,
these walls have much to learn

i will see through you,
will not be you,
but rather see you through
this.

aux champs-élysées

"i trotted on the avenue my heart opened to the unknowns
i wanted to say hello to no matter whom
no matter whom, it could be you, i'd said anything to you
it was enough to speak to you, just to calm down

you said to me 'i was pinned in a basement with fools
who live guitar-in-hand from dusk till dawn'
then i accompanied you, one sang, one danced
any one who did not even think of embracing oneself

yesterday evening two unknowns and this morning on the avenue
two in love all dazed by the long night
and to the star of concord, form an orchestra with thousand chords
all the birds at day-break singing for the love"

when subtle letters spell

make life faster
love haphazardly
find beauty from disaster;
a makeshift romantic

frantically listen
with untamed ears,
untrained tears fall
before unnamed fears

here in any weather
down for whatever
the clever never settle
when subtle letters spell

the bold type
might not look right
in the wake of last night
but look closer and you might

see more clearly
when the sun dawns
earlier than expected;
a new day undetected

in it

in a lover's trance
embraced
defaced but for the uncertain
certainty of adoration
for another
by another
of another
kind
of being adored
so i abhor being
or rather
abhor being abhorred
for being adored
in this trance
happenstance has no
happy stance with me
take lightly
this make believe
and make believe we
are one
of a kind
to bind and display
the array of subtleties
displayed before your
royalty
and know that
i - no, we -
are in it
to win it

a face in a cloud, no trace in the crowd

"but where a young man will forgive the stray, an old man will cut it out. youth always tries to fill the void, an old man learns to live with it."

my void is inspiration, or the lack thereof. fingering the pages, i find a voice of absolution screaming for attention and a [paradox] with which i am sorely accustomed. a new apartment and a knowledge of the scene keeps me from ever truly knowing who and where my true friends are. where my inspiration lies is in a book unwritten, a passage unread, a song unsung, and a painting not rendered by God or his constituates.

if not beggar, label me mercenary, patiently waiting for someone to either:

a) save me, or
b) appraise me.

def believe nothing more than this quote out of context.

"cameras or guns, one of ya'll is gonna shoot me to death."

time (when all else fails)

time chimes in
with ticks talking,
stalking men,
chalking outlines,
and shocking sins
into submission; when
all else fails,
bail.

show me a boat unsailable
and i'll show you a love infallible

time makes men of boys,
tools of toys,
sins of joys,
fables of stories,
lovers of friends,
graves of men,
weapons of pens,
and a welcome relief
of the lion's den.

but take no solice,
it won't come soon enough.

a quote out of context

he had a look on his face that could only be described as defeat, distraction, and denial of the aforementioned. he took a lighter from his pocket and lit a cigarette he'd been studying since he arrived an hour before. the streets were dead and it seemed the little coffee shop, with it's bohemian air, was the only evidence of life in this town anymore.
flick. spark. inhale.
the first drag reminded him of his last, and how nothing holds significance anymore.
i'm in a rut.

the words fell short of a legitimate statement, whispered into his notebook between drags. he needed something that could only be described as solidarity, solution, and solace that the face across the table held everything but.
blink. sigh. exhale.
she looked as an angel would, the smoke circling in a make-shift halo, if an angel were to grow tired of the pursuit of perfection and depreciate the damaged souls outlawed by god; a misconception of grace. she reaches for the notebook, his pen in mid-scrawl, mind in mid-muse, before asking,
can i see what you've got so far?
she looks at what can only be described as a mess of empty phrases, misconstrued as a conscious stream of thoughts; a vain attempt to write life. he listens as she reads aloud the syllables and sentences, paragraphs and pauses, making light of his afflictions and giving way to an offbeat glance, stuttering the syntax. he shifts in his seat as she turns the page and continues,
and if ever there was a quote out of context, i'd be it. read aloud in a voice other than my own can only be described as the truest form of flattery.

you know, you're beautiful when you smile at me like you are right now.
and she was.
smiling. knowing. loved.

1713D

i'm the nice guy
that they
take for granted
until i'm not there anymore
and they
wonder why,
when i become reclusive
and standoffish,
i'm the bad guy
who missed out -
on what, though?
the drama?
the games?
the user-friendly
interface my
heart has become?
but for the occasional
useless love
lest you fall
in love
with being
in love
or rather
being loved
lest you fallout
before the
loveless shouts
wake you out
of wherever
you've been
sleeping,
dreaming
of me
to be
me but
someone else...

you can't trust me
i'll sabotage
deceive
and put thoughts
in your head.

i had a dream

i was being forced through a hallway of sorts that was too small for me
by a force that i couldn't see.
when i "spilled out" of the passage's "mouth," i was in an over-sized cookie sheet
with groups of people in each corner;
pointing,
laughing,
judging,
and then turning their backs to me.

except for one person.

she just stood there, crying, averting her eyes.
when she finally turned around after much persuading from the people around her,
her hands were behind her back,

tied.

she had no choice. i see that now.

convicted

i was raised in the church. a lot of people were growing up. and nearly every one of my closest friends attended through high school. and that's where we got off the bus, so to speak. we were 18, legally adults, able to make our own decisions. and what better way to kill two birds with one stone than to decide on our own to not go to church and rebel against our parents at the same time. what an idiotic idea that was. we're all faced with trials in our lives, and God never turns his back on us, but when we turn our backs on Him...well, He's a little less nice about what He allows us to endure. it just takes a lot more for some of us to come back around.

i had a lot of alone time gifted to me a few years back. a lot of time to just sit and reflect on what brought me to that point. there's a saying that "there are no atheists in a fox hole" and i didn't want to be that guy who just prayed when times were tough. so i studied, and meditated on the Word, and found out things about myself i never wanted to acknowledge. but i did. and i felt better for it. and i was grateful for the time God had given me to come back to Him...and then i was free. free to do whatever i wanted and it turned out i didn't want to rely on Him, it was merely a convenience, exactly what i didn't want it to be. but i guess i didn't want it bad enough because i strayed yet again and got a swift kick and some more time to think.

and i did - think. i thought really hard and long about what i was doing and why i was where i was in my life. i prayed, i broke down, i cried, i felt that weight you hear everyone talk about lift from my shoulders. i felt a change happen in my heart and mind and i liked it. i wanted more. so i studied. i did personal bible studies. i read the purpose driven life. i opened my heart to whatever He had to tell me and i listened - truly listened. and i was free yet again; not just physically, but mentally and spiritually lighter. i felt good.

and i still feel good. and i'm working on getting back to that point where i want Him and His words to affect my life more than they already do. where i have no doubt in my mind that His grace is sufficient for me. and i'm doing good, but sometimes we need a little extra push to sit us down in that pew; to get us on our knees; to get us in the Word; to get us needing Him.

and today i got that push. there are no ulterior motives, but that i want that peace i see in other people. it's one thing to see it in your parents, but a complete other to see it in a peer. i want that back. i need that. i know it won't be hard to find - it's always there, waiting for us - but it's the holding on that will be the struggle.

and i need all the help i can get.

left us stranded

in the last light of day when everything seems a bit softer,
we laugh less and sigh more (even more when we forget to breathe)
as the shadows reach further and claw at the ground,
the lakes search the skies and reveal what they've found
the streams take their time at what the rivers do quicker,
but they're still running towards something bigger and better.
and i knew right away, on that odd-numbered day in december,
that though time would march on, it's course would change
and all because we took it for granted, it left us stranded in so many ways
down here among these crowded streets, cold and worn by tired feet
i walk, faceless in a city built on anonynimity, determined not to turn around
afraid i might find what i've been chasing all along,
but doesn't want to be found...

mio frequentare oltre

the ghost of years past is wailing louder than ever, haunting my present, and spooking the normals. the thing is, i usually feel safe knowing that my past is behind me and i've learned from my mistakes and i'm not that guy. but with safety comes comfortability, which allows us to let our guard down, which sets us up to be completely blindsided; which is what ends up happening, more often than not. it's different than being set up for disappointment because at least then you know there's that chance, and deep down you're ready for it. but i wasn't - ready, that is - and when your legs get swept out from underneath you, getting right back up is not an option. you lay there, wondering what happened, asking what went wrong, and eventually demanding answers from anyone who might know, 'cause you have no idea.

i'm reminded of the old adage that goes "on the rocky mountain of life, you climb one step forward, but often slip two steps back." but i'm going to keep trying, keep "climbing," as it were. i'm not going to give up;

on her;
on us;
on lyfe.

def believe.