In the End, We get what We Want

I lie
content to quake here
under this broken glass
asking only to be alone

it's not enough
we'll be watching
the posturing you are
sure to make

They know our inadequacies
and all our harmless
fire is put out by
a restless man
sleepless by design

A howl is let out
briefly, a danger
we've got the trappings of
a far more useful soul

The stranger implies that
fine dining is easy
but please make yourself
at home

A cascade of robbed tears
glistens down our cheeks
a frightful chauffeur
has learned how to react to this

a kiss, unwanted
plays upon dulcet
lips, defined only by
a lack of promise

we're guided, waning,
by a sweet, sweet forgiveness
we affect joy
and metrically embrace

theatrics are constant
in comparison to our
fatalistic sleight of
hand, our signature

every trace we carry
bears the load more:
forever is in the
empty seconds

efforts are made
but with but god's
grace we'll be laid
in solitary sepulchers
stolen from the sun
in our lonely, lonely graves

I said
we'll tumble slowly
stumbling in our
gated dark nights

a hallowed fellow
signing us on
to make merry
godlessly, perhaps

insignificant
the ties that bind
we reciprocate, callous
to the moon he cried:
hello

the cream of light
cascading doesn't
even really mean anything
to us

a sallow youth
climbs a slick
palm tree to get
away from it

I agree, it's
rough like sand
your feet burn in
those hot coals

some conscious
effort amends us
and emblazons in us
some tawdry fear in us

These Cruel Jokes
are hardly a mistake
no clarion call could
avoid this now

I said
this short death
will have to do
and left

one lone siren
carries us
and drops us
and defiles us

what are we
if not a
measure of
trust

The right way to end the world

It's the aftermath
but all I can think
is where do we go from here?

I guess I mean "I"
I'm unused to thinking
in singular

Every day my face tells
the same lie, and
I really just want to go
home, but it's gone

I feel grotesque and
tortured like a prison
walled on all sides with
chrome and mirrors

Even now, all I can really think
of is you and how I messed up
and I'm wondering what is right
with the world when even we
cant do this correctly

I can't think of what I'll
do in the summer
alone, knowing you're
there somewhere eating
caprese and thinking of
that time we went up to
the mountain and kissed there
as the sun returned to its
home and we bathed in the lights
of our city

It was our city, and
for us together, a home
and it's so wrong to think of it
that way anymore

Even now, I know you're
thinking the same thoughts
we're more alike, even than
you already knew

selfishly, I'm preparing to
pretend, and dance like I'm
alive
again

Nothing. Nothing at all

I: The Beginning

It begins in a mirror
some simple reflection
I think of all the memories
captured in my face
all the wrinkles denote me
delineate me

time is a scribe
taking my body
breaking my face
to show its passage

I'm different now.
it's a new me
I'm different
this is a brand new story
stolen from others
unthinking like tired marketers
planning another sale

so sell me
brand new
and depleted

In real life
but just sell me
as I am in the mirror

II: The Loss of Home

Here, where it once began
and always will begin again, forever
I cannot rest

I lie here staring at painted walls
I see your name engraved
emblazoned on every plane
permanently
untouched by time
or the fallacy of memory

I see
we are an embrace on a couch
a holding of hands, everywhere
and I cannot sleep
I burn anew
stoked into flames
from days past
lasting and harsh

I feel your presence like a hole.
here. especially here
where wanton youth was spent
and days made short by love
hours dwindled, destroyed by
lingering gazes, and I
forever dwelling inside
your eyes

Here is where I feel it most
where I can't block this
and bricks of emotion trickle
from unfinished afternoons
and form perfect imperfect
statues of you

It's so hard to go back here
to willingly get into the car
knowing that each fast mile
is taking me to this one
sacred place where I once
was safe

It's strange that even before I met you
I called this place home
but now when you're gone, I simply can't

Home was in the majesty of
looking everywhere and seeing you
and when you aren't there
everything that used to mean anything
is nothing
and I can hardly stand it at all

III: The Many Sorrows

I can't help but wonder
what I'm doing
doubting each action
like Thomas

even these words
and if any of them
really mean anything at all

I subconsciously surround
myself with others
just like me and
love them, even though
few others do

I'm so very tired
in heart, soul, and mind
I'm a mess

someone show me anything
I need to know just if
I'm on any path at all
it doesn't need to be
the right one

I can't reconcile
the real world
with my own

We cheat everyone
and say that the mirrors
are playing tricks on our eyes
we stick to our story for
a long long lifetime
and still end up lonely

we're all just liars
and thieves
stealing forever from
each other
but I don't know why

I'm so scared
and alone and
there isn't much to
protect me anymore

People never change
we just lie and lie and lie

IV: Growing Up

I am new...
God damn
I can't even say one thing
with security

There is no positive proof of it
or anything

I'm no poet
I'm just a quiet insomniac afraid of the dawn

I'm no musician
I'm just a sorry little person with a solitary aptitude

I'm no Friend
I'm just a lonely participant in this awkward social dance

I'm no Idealist
I'm just a maladjusted people-pleaser seeking approval

I'm no Hopeful Soul
I'm just a devil dressed up like angels are

I'm no Man
I'm just a child who is playing pretend with all his heart

V: A Winner from This

Suffocating
from this cold
I dream slowly
of menial things

like superficial golden eggs
to bring me happiness

I'm sitting still
awaiting obscurity
like an old-fashioned house
held together by raindrops melted
from clouds

I take these drinks
and swallow them whole
hoping to alleviate
this clumsy self

All I do is hurt
do others even think
about this like I
do?

Am I so alone in this
empty world?

The reason I never sleep
is so I don't have to dream
because sometimes dreaming
is too real, and I can't
take that

How can people ignore
what they see
they deny we ever
existed against proof
that they're wrong

Is it really that simple?

I want to lapse softly into
a dreamless coma
and sleep and sleep and sleep

Everything I do
wrecks
Everything I love
and its killing me
like I'm not already dead

They say that once you're
dead inside
nothing really hurts anymore
and that to just feel something
is such a relief
but pain is still pain
and they're all liars just
like everyone else
with ulterior motives just
like everyone else
and I'm starting to wonder
why people even bother
opening their mouths because
when they do they sound just
like everyone else and
it reminds me how horrible
I am
and what awful things
I've done
and I think about all the people
just like me
who can't avoid hurting
the only people they love
and I wonder
why I'm like this
and if there is a God
why I am nothing but a
needle that stabs through
the heart I hold dear
and I wonder why I can
never run away, why don't
I have the guts
I flee from myself but
I always come back because
I can never stray far enough
and I start to realize that
I am just
like everyone else
and I honestly just can't
stand myself
I want to be alone
even from me
but not from her
and I can't help but
go a little insane temporarily
so fix me fix me please
I am a mess and
broken and need to be fixed
this isn't normal
I'm not normal just
like everyone else
and what is the worst is
that I am nothing
nothing
nothing
and I'm destroyed
so don't worry
because I'm nothing
and life is a game
and there's one way to win
and that is to lie
and lie and never love
and lie and never love
and if you lie and never love
you can create a winner from nothing
all this is nothing
you can create a winner from nothing
you can create a winner from all this
you can create a winner from all this
you can create a winner from all this
you can create a winner from this
you can create a winner from this
you can create a winner from me
you can create a winner
you can create a winner
you can create a winner
but what kind of winner would that be
and you'll look back at that mirror
and you'll know this
and never forget
that I am nothing
nothing at all

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can't sleep
poured heart out instead

Just another something

I don't think of what to say
the words just come out of my mouth
like a stream
so how can you be sure
I'm ever saying what I mean?

Am I a sinner?
or just another patron fool?
Am I rhyme or reason or just
an exception to the rule?

I hide in sight of
everything I've ever known
I know you're right
because you're far away from home

Is this real?
or is this a dream?
am I just stealing
what I think is the scene?
could I wait,
if I gave it a chance?
would the earth rotate if you
supplant the subtle dance?

All in all,
you'd be a good statue
with all of us there
all looking at you
in awe

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btw the reason this is a lot rhymeyer is that I thought of it as a song when I wrote it

I confess.
I'm hopeless...
a person made of would-bes
faded images and vague memories
of something I once had
a daydreamer
that’s what my friends say
inventing my world
my way
waiting
and wishing
and wondering…
(wistfully wanting)
I hug my knees and
cry.
I lie awake at night
and stay in bed in the morning and
sigh
because I miss you so much.
I’d die
without you.

--anonymous

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Love

People seem to think
Love is a saving grace
from without

Love is kept locked up
in you
until someone with a key
lets it be free

when you meet your Love
you'll know

her eyes will cut through you
like you were nothing
you'll see the universe in those eyes
her smile will tell you that you are
everything

and you'll know that it's true

Love is a constant surprise
and you'll laugh just to know
you have it

you'll forget the world you knew
it wasn't real
This is a beautiful new world
and it is everything to you

She'll wrap her coil around your heart
and you'll never be the same
and she'll never be the same

Love is forgetting yourself
it is finding hairline cracks and matching them with yours
it is the days that are seconds
it is irreplacable moments of fertile silence
it is knowing that flowers aren't just flowers and a ring isn't just a ring
it is losing pretense and knowing who you are
it is repetition of gestures that mean more than just a touch
it is sharing everything always forever
Love is what makes life worth living

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I hate

that I get into the most ridiculously fantastical situations.

fuck!

because then they always sound like excuses.

I'm so sorry. please believe

me






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Why Can’t I Get A Second Chance At Life

I wish I had a mind to waste
I’d probably go to some bullshit school
Where my diploma doesn’t count for shit
It would give me more time to relax
And do my favorite drug daily

Wouldn’t that be more fun?
My only stress:
Finding time to get high

I wish I had a body to waste
No more workouts to get in shape
And Fast Food is so much tastier
When you don’t care
About your health

Wouldn’t that be amazing!
Not giving a shit
Of what your physical appearance looks like

Sometimes it just sucks knowing
That it would be incredibly easier
To stop caring
To drop out of school
To give up on my body
To give up on my dreams


------Ben Hubbard
www.footpowderproverbs.blogspot.com

vanity

Some subtle precaution
is always breathing down my neck
ravenously, as if starved
for attention

we're ignoring the ill-conceived
notions of dignity and grace
not only to keep what is precious safe
but also in a fruitless attempt
to survive the embarrassment

structured phenoms rise ably,
didactic as if we needed
another teacher.
we'll learn in time.

I'm sorry that fate decreed
a windfall opportunity
but I can't be righteous
without being right

I think we think
we have a choice
and that our motives
make the difference
but we're only fooling
ourselves because the
world is made of fattening
foods and pictures of
rainbows reflected in
mirrors but when our
arm reaches out we feel only
dust and tears, and sometimes
a quiet mechanism to tell us
that we're still pretty

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trust me

I don't think anymore
I just feel
just because its visible
doesn't make it real

controllers set fire
destroying people
amongst them the Liar
the lyre with golden strings
where is his silver tongue?

departing: the many
arriving with plenty
young flowers to fornicate
this is the saddest

I've given you reasons
that are worth believing in
if only to have something
to believe

I need a savior
to go out and save for
people are stunned
and think they don't need
to believe

are we so different in thought?

I know that everyone's
alone, keeping themselves
sadder than you could
ever imagine, and so
unwilling

I know I'll die from
blood loss from
keeping my arm out to help
for just too long

because despite all
instincts,
belief can make things
real

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How is that okay?
I’m not a toy to use.
I won’t sit here and take it.
what you did is called abuse.
You’re lucky I’m afraid
to report just what you did.
To let you have your way with me
was something I forbid.
Now that you got what you want.
what will happen next?
will you be disgusting with your webcam
or just send me dirty texts?
You ask me what I want.
It doesn’t really matter.
When you asked the first time,
you dismissed my wants as chatter.I didn’t want that to happen.
You know that, and I’m sure.
So why you fucked me anyways –
I’ll always be unsure.



-----anonymous

All of this by Yourself

You know,
The world isn’t always directed by the others

When you learned
Instead of being taught

Or poured your own drink
Rather than letting frat boys inherit your fate

You cut your own hair
Because ten dollars
Was too expensive

Promises under a dollar
Can’t even match
For homemade
Peanut Butter bliss

Even though the odds are earth to one
You surprise yourself
Decisive destiny

But why then do I bleed
When I pick my scabs?
Or rip out family trees
Because I drive drunk?

And that paper for poly/sci
Was pasted from the internet

I’ve got blood on my dick
And that girl from back home is pregnant
With my daughter

Could you really do all of this by yourself?


------ben hubbard

here is a link to his blog, which I follow: http://footpowderproverbs.blogspot.com/

drifting

Now that I am by myself
I reflect upon my life.
What has happened this past few years
that has caused this great big strife?
I do not have an answer
past what I feel inside.
But I think that’s part of the beauty,
It’s something I can hide.
And yes I have concealed it.
I don’t want the world to see.
I only want to pretend I’m normal –
that nothing’s wrong with me.
I wish I could find a cure
for what is going through my head.
I fear if nothing changes soon,
my soul will soon be dead.
I try to organize my thoughts,
often do I fail.
I’m not sure what I’m thinking now
what comes next I don’t know.
I think it’s starting to fade.
I’m feeling less and less.
I hope you don’t forget me.
Goodbye for now.
I guess…

------anonymous

goddamn, it just kills me every time

Estrella:
there's no light anymore
except the indifferent
tv screens
actually blackening my vision

I am a grim sort of death
a fathomless occurrence
not overly deep,
just no depth at all
a two-dimensional problem

wits and ego and
false hope and precedents
find a supple home
harmonizing, softly
inside me

I feel so selfish;
I ask "how am I so
light and they
so heavy?"
I used to have importance here

its stupid to think of anything
but that which we thought of
with no regret and
stagnant lives lead to
stagnant hearts

elegant empires with
empirical nonsense are
breaking the boundaries and
blistering the callouses again

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Comedy.

What a funny man you are –
It’s really quite a scream.
Soon you’ll see your hilarity is an oft recurring theme.

What a funny man you are –
with your silly little quirks.
with your sweet little smile and your innocent little smirks.

What a funny man you are –
you seldom are direct.
What you really mean is impossible to detect.

What a funny man you are –
the way you seem confused
but as you take me on this ride, I seldom am amused.

What a funny man you are –
your friends are on my side.
Why can’t you put an end to this roller coaster ride?

What a funny man you are –
with your silly college sports
I guess it’s entertainment, but the strangest of the sort.

What a funny man you are –
when you jump up and down.
You probably should attempt staying on the ground.

What a funny man you are –
O the innocence you employ.
But after watching the past few days, I realized you’re just a boy.


-----Isabella Ávila

I'm sorry, but the world is yours

sometimes, I feel like I've
gone
and there's an air of disrepair
for no reason I know of

subtly betraying: my eyes
describe my scenery, but
leave me to trust them
blindly

and secretly
I tremble in the dark,
out of fear and the cold.
always the cold

pariahs represent populous
demands mandating the demoralization
of ostrich-necked overseers
gleaning our knowledge
in a clandestine gait

and suddenly
I'm sacrificing loud
like cough drops failing
and we grew and we grow

everytime I ask,
there's no one
there to answer
me

everything is so
tormented and confusing
and I wonder
if anything will ever make sense
again

'til then I'll be singing melodies
and I'll be making remedies
taking cares, precautions and
protecting myself from the daylight's cruel glare

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Played

I’m out of control.
my life is a work of fiction
it is only a reality to me.

You, yes you, aren’t real
you’re physically there, yes.
but it’s a just a façade.

You know something I don’t -
like what will happen to me tomorrow
or when I’ll be released from this torment.

Someone put you here.
you do what your boss tells you.
but who is your boss?

I can tell you.
Your boss is a puppeteer.
He’s using you just like he’s using me.

Why you ask?
his job is to entertain the paying customers
your job is to entertain the paying customers.
my job is to entertain the paying customers.

The only difference between you and I –
you’re doing so knowingly,
but this is my fictional reality.

----Isabella Ávila

===========================================================
k, people who follow this blogamajig:

now accepting poetry to be published either anonymously, openly, or with a pseudonym of your choice: email me your stuff, I'll post it.

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This belongs to me, I guess

we used to be such good kids,
whatever happened?
all of us deflowered relentlessly
by time

we're growing older,
and relentlessly growing up
unfortunately

God, give me the courage
to stand up to the
stupid forces of scrutiny,
they are so strong

I'm thinking of all the places
and names and things
I remember
and don't want to forget

Love holds us strong
and keeps us in
against the dawn

I find myself wishing
that I were special
and maybe I could get some
special treatment

I think that God thinks
that we are just like
everyone,
but we're not

we actually deserve it

I lie here drunkened by liquors
so you know every word
is true and meaningful,
no filters or deceit

I'm lying here typing this
on empty sheets
wishing they were you

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so...

I guess this is more of a poem blog then...

I'll still write the random...ness stuff here too from time to time

but I'll probably update fairly frequently with poems...


so yeah

∑<3(xy^n)=1
1=(<3/blog)
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