psyclone gutmess

psyclone gutmess is how you make me feel
i don't even want to deal
academics and postulation bring me closer to you
but the ladder can only extend so far
and even though it starts to shake, you tend to lose business
and it's unlikely you'll ever make it there
let me get control of my stomach
then hands and mind i don't need to open my eyes
step off the marry-go-round and find yourself...
well wherever. that's where i am. off it and into your territory
do your worst!

slaughterhouse

you know where we come from
the house disjointed and quaint
i'd say beautiful but what isn't?
i don't resent it maybe they do
you can find me there on any given day
or sometimes far away
but i always come back
the floorboards are soaked in it
the air makes you gasp
remember what you want
so you can tell your children about it and they will laugh at your childish dreams
it is supported by slinky stilts
the poor and misrepresented foundation
dating back to the beginning of the honest lie
when y'all have left for a while, i'll come back to reclaim
but only after it has a suitable dust coat
some day I will own the slaughter house
and continue its meager traditions!

out of in two

there is a time and a place and zack
out of sight and out of mind
ouf of space and all through time
you take what's yours
i'll make it mine
so please be kind and move ahead to rewind
you'll find me in the lab
researching is what i do
trying to find a way back to you
typewriter drenched in blood
i drag my name through the mud
don't worry, that's the only one i'll smear
i just want to keep you near
at a distance though
just so you know
i can't make up my mind
you can quickly find
that i'm a simple man

exhausted in the dark

i have never felt more lonely than i do now
i have never felt more lonely than i do now
the effort to drive home in the dark
the exhaustion of trying to maintain relationships
no point in seeing what makes me tired
by chance i meet and old flower, bright as always
though my eyes squint too much to fully appreciate her
grins fleet to return to the homestead
leaden fingers attempt to convey exhaustion
it is necessary and droll i cannot stand it
i cannot stand
so i recline and hope and pray to dream
the only way to escape myself and the constant contradictions i cast
to think free and clear outside of time
to live possibly outside of life if only for a moment
i will do it again forever more than likely

Steve

Stevan is dead, let me tell you.
my heart goes out to you and i can't tell how you deal
raised by his hand, product of his blood
what more could you lose Adam?
lesser beings have shattered you
you broke your mind over her
and your body you heart an d part of your soul
what else is there to give?
i know it's back, callused maybe?
how can i help
when i try to consider, i am at a loss
where would i be without my father, and where are you?
all i can say is i love you and will do what i can.
he will be missed and you were lucky to have him

humidity is a lot like clouds, but way more oppressive

gordon gekko never had it so good
i think as i sit here dying in the heat relaxing with a rootbeer float
mildly enjoying childish parody
getting ready to go to bed around 10:30
any other day this would not be fufilling
but i slave to a purpose, a predominantly self-selected one
everyone around me sees it, my dedication illuminates their empty fucking skulls
those who choose to ignore are only satisfactory in the evening
we can spend our four hours, but tomorrow i have my nine
i'll see you at lunch between the blinks and swallows
out the door to do it again with a smile in my face and a pain in my back
Patrick lurks on the weekends but there is relief!
poring over tomes in the muggy twilight is part of the routine
entertaining enough to keep it up tomorrow
tonight you can fake it if you want, because you know i will for sure

run the wire

octopon sue is so far away
and i feel like i'll never get to say
all the things i've been feeling
those lofty, indeterminate feelings that lay within
no method exists to bridge the gap
kittyhawk hasn't happened
and steam lacks lustre
and i couldn't afford to run the pony express
so i'll run
run
run
down to the bottom of the ocean that no one talks about
all the way across and bring that telegraph wire to europe
and if you weren't there i'd run run to asia, australia
the moon and back
even when all options are exhausted i'd tell myself
that you're there. somewhere
and that's what keeps me running

the moving canvas

they remain though not to be seen
not by my eyes
and even as the globes close
the canvas runs through my head
a fifteen minute glimpse of that eternal diorama
everything caught in flash frame
plodding through man's creation
if i get down, look up
or spend hours on my drained back
given the opportunity i take it!
learn what i can from brothers above who see so much
they are nebulous and direct
we rely on, fear and welcome them in sporadic spurts
they are constant and man can do nothing to dissuade them
Al Gore says we can but that's a convenient lie
second in creation and ever since inspiring
dreamers artists lovers and poets
all become one in your muse
maybe we'll meet again tomorrow
maybe i'll love you
maybe i'll hate you

first attempt at a haiku. dedicated to T

a memory new
ill and well together be
how do you do it