The Label of Disenchantment.

I marauded in front of this brooding crescendo
to this disheveled voice;
I tilt my head down
upon the spotlit parking space,
trying to feel a spark
in a despondent snowstorm;
or the glory of an exposed false prophet.
the label of disenchantment
looms over like a single rain cloud,
but the hope in it still dries me up,
as long as I can stay awake.

Avoiding the Crowd of Offbeat Bohemian Wannabees or A Death in Prague.

Eyes staring back too much

When I can't keep to look away

For the war that will chase me out

And the fear I won't have it for long

Don't applause for this relentless attack

For my blitzkrieg will surrender me

And the kaisers won't survive long;

So much for thinking out loud.

Ugly disco & kitsch overalls,

What's your best idea for us?

Capitalistic pleasures bought my romance

What's the reason for helping anyone?

Quite cheap the plastic feels

If the bottle pours selflessness,

Make that hassle for your ego.

For every four, the next one's free!

What The Dada Man Said To The Modern Girl.

"Under the cobblestone road, I met Stonewall Jackson,
Surrounded in the magical elastic wonder of another blooper reel.
Even under the terms, he yearned to exterminate animals that don't exist.

Young blooming skies are covered in colored flowers,
Overrun by the likes of bad mascara.
Umber-like lines dressed my toes quite vicious,
Running up something important or nuclear.

It makes me jump in a Donkey Kong-like charade
My red-faced tears smiled a whisper's worth of rain,
All kinds of screaming females come along with dented hooks
Glancing down to dance with fascist eyes;
It makes the charlatans run off pleasing.

Nostalgic times for the young to understand,
And a Shirley Temple smile to help forget my solemn wishes.
To save a scent for the detergent-washed Nazis
Inspecting another chance for romance and blitz
Obtuse strobe lighting and discotheque rain surrounds ten 'o' clock tea time
Needless to say, my umbrella lands in an African wonder

Didn't you dream it would end up this way?
As I'm daft like rascals and apple pie,
Running away from the passage of time
Licking frozen steel to keep me off my feet
In a centerfold of my own entertainment
Not that I should state the syrup-slipping obvious out
Gonna end my endeavor with an exclamation mark."

I'm Punk, Therefore, I Am.

4am, and there's no one out looking
but you nor your tatt cares about that
with a bow to perfect such messy hair
a white cardigan to cover the colours on your back
a pierced hollow ear, in today's trend
no one could understand the slap of your hand
not that the guys around are unkind
but its never the time when shit hits the fan

polka-dotted chucks and wrigley's gum
torn, black, short jeans so swift and lean
glossy and dark nail polish
suede black jacket beneath a row uncleaned
she awaits off a fluorescent corner
with red lipstick shaded of the light it emits
she smiled as she passed among the lines
and I kept face as I reminisced tasting the salt off those lips.

Baroque Flavours From The Leather Sidewalks of Brisbain.

To wake and know its all over,
or stay up to live it all as fast as you can,
to wear twenty-four stains to keep in mind
the controlled pace of splendor;
couldn't shake off the work,
when the sweat makes the taste smoother;
the hands shade the mind,
as the sunlight fakes a swift turn;
in the season of cinnamon dreams,
too wild to spit out
but enough to just hold on
yet I'm still on my feet,
eyes deep in a shot of self doubt,
to use in florescent places
as it repeats such a pleasant sound;
And when she smiles the taste of a favourite colour,
the swoons keep attacking
when the flashlight couldn't care to find us
but the hold ran away with our clothes
as the fog won't make those polite any smarter
in which the echoes called us all fools
but we're just as young as we write.

Akita Dog.

cheery faces, with no delay,
stores crowded with profit,
old sages on their sides drinking tea.
the red sun dives into the red sea.
the aroma in the air
as the sweet scent fades
time grows patient
as i wait here for days

you came at my side
and I stood by so close
I didn't mind you're late
I rushed from the sound of the gate
chilly breezes and scarlet cheeks;
the morning star came as you left
i stood still in my place;
waiting for the smile on your face.

peaceful as it was
it was all the same
cherry-blossom leafs flooded sidewalks
the kids come, the buinessmen came
i'll watch and i'll wait
but please, don't be late.
my soul will still roar
that was '24.

the petrified trees settled in smoke
newspapers in joy of victory;
war kepted the nations pride,
keeps the drifting spirit alive.
subway trains, ticket fares
the people and their gaze
I stood alone but unafraid;
I remained there for days.

the ascending sun covers the people
in every shady morning rise
they were all just walking ghosts
cardboard cut-out passerbys
but i'd still hold to the faded
as I know you'll always find your way
my spirits always looking bright
I'll keep on in these days of strife

i'll sit and i'll stare
i know your out there
i sat in a clouded smoke
stranded, on a weakened rope
rise, rise again, red sun!
that was '31.

sky blooms in shades of gray
reflected by rain puddles of yesterday
the frowning faces of passersbys
i look back and wonder why.
the leaves gallop from their trees
as the wind pushes it away.
I sit here endlessly,
waiting here for days.

Waves of the east grow calm
as we all don't die alone
this soul will be waiting
Down to the last bone
I waited so many years
but i lived because you're in my heart
For the last, I close my eyes
Into the light, I'll be returning to you

I called you with my cry
I'd wish you were still alive
i'll meet you in another life
......that was '35.

Poster Happiness.

Behind the grafftied walls of victory
In between the fields and in the streets,
Going to the mundane of places
Buying our way to maintain our surivial.
Riding the bus or driving on the roads
Or walking, striding, running, waiting our lives away
Thoses groups of happy faces hand in hand
Holding on to the seeds of friendship
Even when our grudges erodes the best of us
Rainy days in the sunlight
Innocent faces in the playgrounds
Shooken-up homeless aimlessly staring
Watching if a miracle comes there way
Avenues and streets with forgotten names
Traffic will fill every single one
Coming soon, the news predicts better weather
Happy couples get to get away from the masses
Isn't it a wonderful life for all us?
No, it's even better cause its the liberty for us all;
Granting and permitting us a life of our own.

In Circles.

"The guns are retreating as we open our doors,
Here we are now, together as one, for us!
Even the loneliest of man is among us now.
Voices of the people rejoice for this great moment
In our finest hour we have prevailed
Came in a time where the light is always too dim to see
There's nothing to be afraid of now
On this horizon, is a new day for all of us
Remember this day, for tomorrow will come too soon;
Yesterday will be the last day for all of us;
It's over now, we can holster our flags and raise it high;
Stand up for the violence is over now
After us, let generations recall this day deep in their hearts
Let us prevails we reached our greatest victory!"

-In the sounds of cheers and appluse in the biggest square
Ever so, these words spoken are always repeating.

Hetty Kelly, But More Like Sid Vicious.

Ram-shack and grinding to find
the ways out of this cavern
I still have the onlookers conflicted

Are we alive when we fill emptiness with loneliness?
when contempt seems like a narrow path
so much has the dirt stained the proper trail

Pushed out of these sands
oft-tethered and shriveled
looking to crawl back under my rock

I don't think I can do this myself;
but I'm left behind in the waste.
am I to fade in the burning collapse?
Will I be kept within the shell of refrain?
please don't go my tender love
as I'm facing the monster up close
please don't leave, as I have the world to defeat
before it comes down to defeat me

the broken wooden ledge I lean upon
as I kept sleepy eyes behind sunglasses
I wish my soul weren't so restless
to keep this body alive for this life
don't go to sleep, my cautious dear
cause the words always seem to trip me up
please don't let me hide, as the moment's come upon this time
for eyes around will judge you down

sometimes I ponder beyond this box
for I recalled all the proper moments
but I'm stimulated by the common weakness

she thinks, "I want no loneliness"
as she feels we're left in emptiness,
but her tone always keeps her from foolishness

the brain jump ropes with the jump at hand
thinking its way out beneath the head
but, oh my nerves,
we feel nothing all over ourselves again

your words arrows me but betray
but I'd still listen to every noun
am I still awake to your tune?
or am I just becoming restless in a dream?
don't tell me this, my broken gun
your words come like twisted vulgar
head your phrases for the end
as I feel this might reached its end

stop, as I know when to call defeat
this is not the way I want things to be
but that's how minor characters act
when the story won't make us the main
I'm walking with my head down, you pretty face
but I'm not gonna look back at this
this might be the worst of us
but I wish there was something more of us, dear...

Searching for Johnny Granger.

sadly i thought my entry was published.
oh well, there's always the next time. enjoy.

In the dusk of a summer day;
Glowing white halos blossom;
Out from beneath a jet stream.
Ever since innocent youth, I’d look elsewhere;
Quietly reminiscing of an old lament tucked away:

“A calm morning sun rise from the east
Out from beneath the heavy covers;
To the living room to enjoy this day with you;
Only to find myself surrounded with boxes;
A maze with walls of suitcases and old furniture.

I waited though school to pick me up on your arms
To ride in your car and pretend it’s a rocket
But as the sun subsides to the west
So did my jovial spirit as turned to night
And I waited, wondering where did all the spacemen go?

The echoes and screeches fill the space
From only a light beneath the door;
I felt safe under the covers, but
A civil war grew violent in the pit of my stomach,
I called for you to take me away, but you were never there.

You walked across the terminal and onto the plane;
But it was explained you couldn’t return;
My face would be pressed on the glass,
Watching the smooth streaks drifting in the sky;
Always those soft white halos spiraling in summer.”

Eros, c'est la vie.

the soldiers are moving on,
as the bombs are flown from the sky;
I'm stranded in this wasteland,
for a battle, lost in strife.
I followed the stars you sent me,
but the sounds keep me cold;
whenever the days are fooling me,
the thoughts keep me whole.

lucid moments from synthetic words
A few steps back before I jump
in the mist that fooled and swallowed me
I’d wished, 'where did it all go?'
take me back to those carnation days
let me return to the times most revered
have me dream just for one more second
as I'm sinking beneath your finger tips

I'm struggling to keep up the pace;
only living on, from the thoughts of you.
as the fires burning out of night;
keep me asleep, when I dream of you

further the days come colder and so icy
my head spins, as it twirls these soft colours
I pick myself up to outgrow it all,
as I shed all of our primary emotions.
just a ghost I see, shriveled by the wind
a soft porcelain face, never to be held;
on goes the thoughts that lay upon a light,
only to turn off when these dreams go to sleep.

under the rising tide of season
the crashing of clouds upon its gray
I felt the distance holding me down
as the inches pull me into pressure.
I'd hate to think of a tasteless future,
all but forgotten within the depths;
tugged by a tainted leash and collar,
don't let me drown within your memories.

as I'm kept around in the same town,
i'd wish to fight for what I love.
but I kept the covers around me,
as Duchamp seems to left his 'art behind.

Warhol Girl.

girls wearing warhol never wish for mainstream
yet, yearn for the pop life
as its not a life of their own.
they stride for pure creation,
yet, they are divided by how socialible they are
between who see it as a trend and as a figure.
Warhol couldn't think of it either way,
as fifteen mintues is only enough for everyone;
too bad those faces fight for the strands of seconds

bright colour embazzeded in neon;
dressed in little mismatched socks;
hidden contents in a soup can bag with blonde smile.
but she dresses like tiffany rather then monroe,
waiting always for her breakfast meal
as she primes her colours for a subtle touch
with a simple smile, she greets her peers
modest floats in opaque in a soft porcelain surface;
the same face in different shades along close frames.

sunday morning keep me awake for the west
as the world gets 6 degrees brighter.

Black Wave + Blue Wave.

the world held me close
as the white covers me before the black
and i'm slowly sinking within a soft abyss;
Wishing to float
as I'm distanced off into its whirlpool;
trapped in the middle of its roar;
i'm shallowed into the sea;
perished into the depths of forgotten sands.

In the blink of an array of glossy bubbles
Ocean clouds rise from the night horizons of the bottom.
Carried slowly into the sky
as I'm able to open my eyes to shades of blue;
the pressure slowly pulls away from my skin.
Upon the looming surface,
a breath of fresh air is remember by the lungs
as the gentlest of blue pulls me to shore;
I held the sand close to me
as the waves sailed back to the real horizon.

She's Written in the Subtext.

She's a ghost that wants your attention
but no one could ever see transparent
she's a whisper that screams a thousand echoes
but no one could ever hear the wind
she's a dancer that waltz her way to everywhere
but no one could appreciate that idea of elegance
she's a temptress that stares down your heartbeat
but no one could feel the shiver of a heart
she's a chariot that carries her horses through primrose
but no one could guide the blind though the stridden path
she's boat in the lake that rides to marquee
but no one could float what's lost at sea...

but I couldn't be anymore happier
as we have each other to ourselves.

________________________________________

she's a bunny with a gun
but she holds it just for the fun
devious, she hops to shade the sunlight
you can't help it when it’s cute
pseudo-moments come omni-present
even if it’s not your intentions
but you can't help to think
that she's trying to get your attention

sometime you have to wait until the end
to truly know how she can smile
she can drag you on so long
but when it’s clear, it’s worth the while
you can't help things take forever
for the seconds you yearn to see her
in the time you think in a day of imagination
nothings the same in levels of sensation

as the minutes pass, I can't wait any longer
to yearn and strive without knowing
for the desolate beliefs
has part me down so weak
the hourglass buries me in sand
as the grain puncture the skin
my bones pressed up against the glass
time can only test one's true character...

'That's A Big Mistake,' Said the Lion.

I wrote this during long lecture in class,
and there's this one person that kinda gets on my nerves secretly.
I'm thinking he's on the ganja or something.
but I wrote all this based on him on such.
enjoy.


Silhouette shoes follow me slowly
as it talks like a whisper
an individual speaks makes a unique sound
a crowd talking at once sounds the same
silence makes no expression
off-topic conversions make quite the comeback
but 1st-person views will always be fulfilling
careless has cared less about the simple decisions
simple could simply careless.

shifted in the slightest of views from great heights
but held off in between long conversations
koala talk nods just to rest away
as the hand points toward another horizon
aimlessly he stares with the idea to ponder
makes without effort to make effort for anything
though the cry's of the victim's call for end
superman could endlessly careless.

halogen backpacks travel in fives
through great shadows and great reflection
this mirror image digresses but I’m forced to stare
even if all the facts are purely just factual
still the compass speaks without pointing north
as exaggeration points everywhere in the wrong direction
"that's a big mistake," said the lion
but the lion mistakenly could careless.

the concrete answer burrows in a struggle
as the light is a weight that pushes too much
surely what's polite makes it way in dirt
but only the holes get bigger as it all collapses
the smile of one is wrong in everyway
happiness is forcibly shared with everyone who wants it.
melancholic only hits the person when alone
as happiness could happily careless.

Stories from Saffron Fields.

I. The Hierophant

the guard held stories
for the young and for the sick
but the fence can only make me
glance though the seems
as the sounds of wood on metal shoes crack
and the uniforms sheik the wallpaper symbolism
the future keeps me detained to the chains
as the ball rolls toward the other way
softly, the tears flow down in a stride of puddles
as the colour washed away from metal;
only a single airplane remains in these skies of beige.

II. The Chariot

orange flowers arise from grandiose showers
but those showers were gray
and came very vicious
clouds shallow on the rise of night fall
surly, they gaze upon the wartorn soldiers
from the previous march apart and detached
far from the souls they buried
with the facade of gun powder
they gather and spread the severed into ashes
as they sprinkle the remains of crafted fields;
soon shades of scarlet became monochrome.

III. The Dancer

as the wax disappear to hang off the table edge
the smoke builds itself on the wooden ceiling
sounds of waltz invoke different tangerine dreams
as the rain puncture the porcelain floors
those pictures of pity and pseudo-loneliness begin to age
the lone cloud umbrellas a quiet and clement inflorescence;
she dances along the tulips aligned perpendicularly
in soft Persian silk,
moonlight atones a brave spotlight;
a golden flower among golden flowers

IV. The Magician

painted in white to cover things that can't evoke
the magician's hat has torn apart from masterful orators
still, the audience wished they were fooled for a second longer
as the snow drifts and lies among the grass
the leaves carry over,
gasping their last breath,
holding a final stand
beneath the brown, invisible to the eye but imagined by brain
holes are aligned to a happy family along the fireside
as the children fall asleep
and as people shovel the snow;
the rabbit could only smile.

V. The Worker

sounds of wheelbarrows on dirt and scythes cutting the grass
the worker succumbs to a modest living
but as their suitcases were raided for their valuables
I guess luxury and vanity isn't something for the hungry;
the mirror can only look the other way
but the dust always disperse the densest of crowds
and sunlight awakens the denser red sun
whiskey looks better in crystal but not in soil;
fields only yearn as they cannot grow when drowned in squalor.

My Abyss Smiles Back.

this life is about having the bigger stick
somehow, i'm always caught with a straw
i gasp as i stand the edges
the world lashes while holding its sickle

restlessness holds me tirelessly
there's no more happy things to write
i lost all inspiration a while back
doesn't get much better then this

regret the forgetful
forget the regretful
there's never a time to be modest
there's never anyone ever honest
always some constant abuse
always theres numerous misuses
reservation for a song
singing for the wrong

doesn't anybody notice
the screaming in the night?
place the pin on the balloon
dressing up bravery in blue

in this mist of trying to be hated
in this great abyss its smiling
everyone love us more
without even trying

don't blink cause it might disappear
don't ever think that its ever too late
all of my vigor is applied with make-up
will i turn to destroy all of what i've create?

are you listening?
were you listening?
it's been written in stone
but be the one not to know

Romance is Boring.

The Valentine's Day tradition for me.
This will be its 6th year.
Enjoy.

"Really, I’ve never noticed a girl like you before.
Obdurate hearts like mine has never came across these unfamiliar plains.
Maybe, it’s only just my thoughts thinking louder then logic will allow.
As I’m hoping that these ideas would just go away.
Nothing spectacular about the way you dress or the way your face is shaped.
Could just be the lighting in the room or the sunlight though the glass
Either way, emotions will always steer us the wrong way.
I’m convinced that romance is boring.
Somehow, for a moment, I caught you smiling as you caught me staring.
Nothing got me so invigorated then the sounds of my heartbeat thumping
Elements of affliction surfaced in my mind but I wouldn’t let these thoughts show.
Vivid in every single color, I’d wish to find us a fairy tale ending.
Eighty-seven times I tried writing it all out so you’d understand.
Right or just mistaken, I just would like to tell you in every single way
But just don’t think of me in the worst of intentions;
Only if romance wasn’t so complicated.
Roses or chocolate always seems too generic these days.
I know that everyone wants something close to heart
Nevertheless, I went and gathered all the pocket change collected,
Gone to the department stores to buy her things shaped in crystal.
Waiting for tomorrow, I wished to see the delighted look on your face.
Hoping to hold you along my chest and dance so ever after;
Even if romance wasn’t so expansive.
Now I stand in an array of swirling colors, as I’m entering your presence.
You glanced and waltzed your way with a white glow following your every move.
Only this time, I found my hands stuck deep in mid-air, calling your name.
Unfortunately, you never heard, and some other guy whisked you away.
Rolling over back into the crossroads, as I fold back along the frosty winds,
Ever so, I wished to think this wasn’t the ending fate had created
As her shining glare burns my hopes in to carbonic ash.
Romance, I found, is not always for the one who desires it most;
Or for the dresses up and wait for its call to arrive.
Underneath all the heartbreak and short-comings, hearts of paramours continue on
Never look back to regret, but always venture into unknown.
Don’t ever think romance is ever boring. "

Children of History.

everything is different
when everything has change
what can I do now?
when they won't come back to you.
i remembered my friends,
as i sat in the classroom.
they manage to go,
without a stop in the bathroom.

we knew so much,
but they all forgot
we left, in ten years,
yet everything is lost.

fallen for
what we once knew,
we can't make things
come back to reappear.
wristwatches and turntables
won't turn time back for you.
but we shall never forget
what we had to go though.

i once had it all
when my mind was electric.
using the correct use of soap
i guess i didn't expect it.

eyes so achromatic
words so automatic
sounds in quiescent
a smile so radiant
tremors shake the mind
schoolgirls make it right
more dead then alive
no pretty sights

riding through the years
on a train, fast as it goes
making though the roaring sea
on a ship just floating down.
i'd take it back for a day
just for you to know
that its love
that pull the heart to its grave.

In Great Yearning of Jane Gallagher.

here's to the unequal sensations
of red vines and cheap cigarettes
light forests the battles those shadows
the single shades returns only to reset

I'm picking the petals out from every rose
i smile because I think i have a chance
just so that she knows
I look up and take a single glance

hearts were never ment to waste
hearsts were never ment to race
i wish everything i wish came true
i wish i could be as special as you

i remembered sleeping though the winter
dreaming love's like Dorian Gray
always as pure as snow
december is such a while away

the shadows always shifts from the window blinds
although i always wish it came from you
so hard live another night
with only the memories of you

I never ment to do you harm
i never wanted you to be this way
i wish all my doubts never came true
i wish i could be special too

still, i'd hold on to all those snowflakes
frozen from the tears from your face
so many girls who all looked the same
but out from valiant colour was always Jane
i'd stare to see if the road is aligned with my feet
gravity keeps me up in line with your heartbeat
this town evolved to some place i don't belong
things only change when you're gone.