I could walk the globe, 5
I could escape this place. 6
But everywhere I go- 7
my past follows. 4
Like my shadow it's right behind me, 9
says nothing, 3
moves with me, 3
so much in sync I can only imagine it's there. 13
When I finally think, 6
and look back. 3
Just like my shadow, it's there. 7
The spilled milk is just that, 6
as foolish as I've been, 6
I think it's time to clean up. 7
Time to start moving, 5
get running, 3
get sprinting, 3
and run from the known emptiness, 8
to something that's worth having. 7
To the unknown pavement, 6
and the unknown trees. 5
Maybe spot some trains, 5
we'll just have to see. 5
The path that lies ahead 6
is not where I am now. 6
So I'll move now, 4
and worry about the new problems later. 11
Because all in all, 5
that's all there'll ever be. 6
Problems. 2
Friday, March 27, 2009
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
The Newark Four
Sit and stare
into bare of ocean.
On the dock
all a mock
install the shock.
There's a girl I know
says she's down, but no
thinks he's clown so
she said bye.
My friend stands by,
nothing but wait and listen.
Taking in with hate of her byes definition.
I've seen I'm hope.
Like the soap to clean the cut,
I see no sheen and everything
should be right, though it's not.
Sought- for the answer
to go and help them.
Show the ace from up my sleeve,
give them something to believe.
The third person who's seemed to leave,
is her friend.
I meant to mend,
but instead-
it's all pretend.
We are four,
not from before
instead we are...
just folklore.
into bare of ocean.
On the dock
all a mock
install the shock.
There's a girl I know
says she's down, but no
thinks he's clown so
she said bye.
My friend stands by,
nothing but wait and listen.
Taking in with hate of her byes definition.
I've seen I'm hope.
Like the soap to clean the cut,
I see no sheen and everything
should be right, though it's not.
Sought- for the answer
to go and help them.
Show the ace from up my sleeve,
give them something to believe.
The third person who's seemed to leave,
is her friend.
I meant to mend,
but instead-
it's all pretend.
We are four,
not from before
instead we are...
just folklore.
Labels:
California,
Drugs,
four,
Friendship,
Newark,
people,
story
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Poem: Graffiti
Over there
on the tracks
spraypaints that came off the racks.
We sneak
we peek
check
see
if there's heat.
Get paintin.
Get up.
Get finished.
Oh shit!
Move your feet.
Vandal squad is up and sprintin,
No time to nod it's time to start squintin,
as your eyes get watery
from the cold that seems so fiery.
Jump!
The gate,
run from the fate
of getting caught
And taught
a lesson
of writing
the exciting
defying
graffiti.
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