You're my life line,
Without you I'll drown,
I'll sink to the bottom,
And in the journey,
I'll see only emptiness,
I'll see only darkness,
At the bottom,
Under the pressure,
In the end,
I'll return to dust.
With the wind I goWith the wind I go
The wind is carrying me
I'm not moving but I'm floating
I go left and I go right
It's like a second part of me is exploring
I see beauties
I see beasts
I see rights
And I see wrongs
I am illuminated by the sun
I'm struck down by the thunder
I'm flown up high by the wind
I'm crushed down by the attraction
I really feel alive
I really feel like flying
I really feel I belong here.
Listening to stonesListening to stones
Let's take a minute,
And listen to stones,
Take one and put it to your ear,
Listen to it talk loud and clear,
Close your eyes and...
make it speak,
It says it's happy,
it's now hovering in the air,
It's taking some time to take her breath,
But there it is…
There was once a stone,
She was cold and covered in snow,
People would walk over it and not notice it,
People would crush her and make it weak,
But someone came and dug deep,
He took it and brushed the snow off of it,
She said she was glad not to be cold anymore,
But her silence said she wanted more,
But someone took her to its ear and listened…
He listened to her breath,
He listened to her stillness,
He listened to her all the time,
Then he started to hear,
He heard the story about the lake,
How could you live inside the water and not be a fish,
He heard the story about he throwing,
How even a stone remembers it has been thrown,
He heard the story about the question,
To which is answer is yes,
I like trainsI like trains
Yeah you heard well,
I love trains,
But what I love most,
Are the people inside,
I look at them,
And only see good people,
A story for each one,
I like to think of those stories,
Who is going where?
And as I think that,
I see the landscape run around me,
I'm transported to another world,
In which I will stay but a moment,
Until I come back to mine.
It's magicalYou know it's magical
When you look at someone
And your heart start racing
When you think of this someone
And smile intensely
When you imagine yourself with her
And automatically feel happier
We're all magicians!
Because our heart is racing
Because we smile intensely
Because we like to feel happier
This moment is magical
Because I'm thinking of you
And my heart is racing
My lips are curling into a smile
And my inner self is feeling happier already
All of this is thanks to you!
You're a magical girl
And I'm under your charm.
I sinkI sink
Each day I sink a bit more
The first day I just knee in water
I pray that everything I'm hearing
That everything I'm seeing
That everything I'm feeling
Is just an illusion.
The second day I lay down
Water starts covering my ears
So I don't hear all those beautiful things
Then water starts covering my mouth
So I'm unable to speak
To yell at the dark
To shot curses at the void
Now the water is covering my eyes
So that i can't see your beauty anymore
I'm blind to everything that could cause me joy
I'm blind to everything that could cause me pain
Finally the water covers my nose
So that I can't breath anymore
Why breath without you?
Why live if I can't see you?
Why live of I can't hear your sweet words?
Why live if I can't say I love you?
Why live if I can't see your beauty anymore?
I will lay down and keep sinking
Rejoin the darkness
Be crushed by the pressure
And then just vanish.
I'm just jealousI'm just jealous
I'm just jealous of you,
I'm jealous of your lustrous body,
I'm jealous of your happiness,
I'm jealous of the things you do that I can't,
I'm jealous because I love you,
I'm jealous because I would do anything for you,
I'm jealous because the mere though of you makes me feel queezy,
I'm jealous because I would like to have you here,
I'm jealous for all those things,
I'm jealous about even more things,
Because I'm just jealous of you.
A given for a lostA given for a lost
I give but I also lose too,
I gave everything,
But I lost equally,
I keep on giving,
I keep on losing,
I must be mad,
I must be crazy,
I must be in love.
I'm betweenI'm in between two angels,
I'm in between two caring people,
I'm in between two good friends,
They give me strength,
They give me confidence,
They give me everything,
I give them my experience,
I give them some presents,
I give them all that I am,
I'm between two lovely girls,
And I'm happy!
It stirs the soulIt stirs the soul
Stir for a bit,
Stir for a bit more,
Stir for even a bit more,
Put everything together,
and you'll get passion,
Then you'll be able,
To defy the impossible,
Then you'll be able,
To imagine the future,
You'll be able,
To change the world,
All this will stir you soul,
This is... TED.
enduring biopoiesis getting over it
in quick gasps of rabbit fur
and valley tangles
we would have
had such darling
strung out on fake roses
floating on our sun-striped backs
but we're so
some world-children cutting
out, tuning in yet
slippers your ghost eats peanut butter
out of the jar. an atomic grease
fire tongues our oven like an
if only we walked on clouds
if only we lived in the belly of the ocean
Cheshire Cat-Pandora Hearts
Eyes the color of crimson
Clothes black like nightingales
Chalky white skin
With disinterested gaze
Hair dark blood and disarray
Claws covered with malice
The kitty smells evil bringers
To hurt its lost master
The calm but volatile cat
Protects its masters harsh memories
From the master herself
But you job is done
Go to sleep
And perish within your maze
Made by the Abyss
And in this dark harvest of season
My life has completely lost reason,
For which or against to decide.
All lost in a savage and endless, bleak tide
In sadness and in kindness
In light and in darkness.
In a boat made of hope
I shall sail to tomorrow,
In a winding hurricane
Made of treachery and sorrow.
There's a spear, endless, and colossal spear...
Piercing, slashing though my head.
Starting somewhere in heaven,
Ending somewhere in hell.
Fighting, burning, crying, crashing.
Are the armies within.
In my head they are all thrashing.
On the heaven's and hell's whim.
To be light or to be darkness.
A perpetual array.
It's not merely my choice,
But the choice of the way.
It's an option of the voice,
It's a thin line of gray.
Is it a choice forced by fate,
Is it a pre-set time and date?
Or a choice to which I myself sway?
But here's our story anyway .
"Nothing that I do will matter.
As all things will merely shatter!"
All my hopes thus darkness scatter,
As it shoves me a decree.
As it si
Not My Kind of Fairy TaleDon't give me the Knight
Whose armor shines so bright.
Give me the Knight,
Whose armor is dull and broken.
Whose horse is weary,
Whose heart is heavy.
Give me the Knight who looks at the dragon with pity,
For that dragon has done nothing,
And is just as imprisoned as the princess he guards.
Don't give me a princess who only wishes to be saved,
By that Knight whose armor shines so bright.
Give me the princess who wishes to escape yes,
But wants to free the dragon,
Who does not wish to marry her savior--
Nay, give me the princess who wants to explore,
Who wants to live and to learn.
For the years of imprisonment only made her yearn,
Not for the Knight whose armor shines bright,
But to see the world and live in the light.
Do not give me the evil dragon,
Whose soul purpose is to give that bright Knight something to fight.
No, give me the dragon who is weary,
Who longs for the freedom of the sky,
Whose leg is burdened with chains,
And whose heart aches for the princess he must guard,
heart brokenIn my dreams
It was me in your arms
My lips on yours
There was only us
And the clouds
And the stars
It was the world and us
It was us against the world
But in your arms I could take it
Anything the world dished out
And with your kisses I was strong again
In my dreams it was me in your arms
My lips on yours
But in reality
It's always been her
you can't have it allBut you can have eating wild grapes and their skin like beetle wings
cocooned in bruises. You can have swings that go so high you kick
a hole in the clouds. You can have chickens following you through the front door
and the cat’s gift to say, Look, I am taking care of you.
You can have happiness, but tempered as
your first taste of wine when you hid your puckering face
because you were eight years old and dangerous.
You can have a touch you blush for, ferret hands dancing,
small and terrifying and knowledgable.
You can have an aspiration of “us” held on one stool leg, darting breaths but
never admitting to dreams, to a stew of practicality.
You can talk to her, sometimes,
and even mean something.
You can have the book you stole after she stumbled,
and “that” word sank into your hands. You can’t cure cancer,
but you can have two sets of spoons in the same sink
although she’s only touched the one you lent her,
the one you didn’t expe
san gabrielSometimes you dream about a burning grocery store and it means nothing.
This is me standing in a hallway realizing that the people who left
aren't showing up for dinner, that's why it's only a theory.
Look at these streetlights, look at you wearing that wreckage on your face,
soaked in radio. To white windmills flickering across the coast, to
your dogs barking like shootouts behind these gates. An old forest flashes
against the bridge and starts breathing; headlights bleach our hills
and you say "What kind of ending is this, I'm never here anymore." And Hell yeah,
I think, how insane that the species blooms in catastrophe, how improbable
to survive this lottery, to conquer the probability of having never blinked
toward the blinding white shipwreck, to find an abandoned planet
and fill it with chairs. And this too; we sit in a parking lot in California,
the hospital glowing around us, and roll a blunt. Yellow light humming like soil,
twitching like grass. It's been quiet, I say, my phon
david and goliath.He passes under
the dying streetlamps'
darkening splashes on his face,
against the rooftops.
The tarmac, painted with his footsteps,
white lines of vertebrae
tickle along its back.
Lovely glass, shattered fragments
ruffle the curb of the pavement,
strands of rainwater
whisper along the gutter
in hymnal honesty; and sunlight seems swallowed
by the swollen beast of night.
prickle at the back of his memory,
a nervous pattern of speech,
syllables of iambic chattering
teeth against the cold:
the hotel window, shining with
the gaze of a thousand tourists' wonderment,
is where his own eyes rest,
as if the world is born anew
and love-songs spike the evening air
his life-tousled hair. He
walks on, passes on,
a stranger in a foreign land;
the moonlight seems
to turn about him, embrace his form,
a lonely touch, not quite animate in its caress,
but his love was the colour
of seawater on gravel,
and he would not take the taste of her brea