Thursday, November 19, 2009

My Darling Icarus:

and ever so sweetly,
the bird of reason sings.
what you love, you must lose,
much like your wings.

and all that you were,
or could ever hope to be,
will be burned by the sun
and lost in the sea.


The clock never stops.
we must exert and exhaust,
to cherish all we've found,
and forget what we've lost.

An opposable force
Our strong state of mind,
a code of delinquency
never failing to bind.

That which we value most,
only time can steal.
Our naivety fleeting,
Our struggle is real.

Friday, November 6, 2009

A season for everything.

The days we spoke
grew few and far between.

Summer past,
and Autumn fell.
A discontent grew,
where once all was well.

Pomegranates ripened,
coloured of a lover's blood,
an empty doorstep,
where your soul once stood.

Now seasons dwindle,
I can only bereave,
Such as trees must,
when they lose their leaves.

Thursday, November 5, 2009

The Battle of the Stick and the Sword.

The trouble with ink,
is it's delibility,
it's credibility,
it's blatant ability
to make us believe.

In lead or graphite,
we can deny
but blue or black
holds a truth.
It shows mistakes,
we've tried to hide
and words crossed out
we dare not say.

But words in grey,
are insecure
words of fear
and words not sure.
All unclear,
Erased and muddled.
opinions reformed,
and thoughts befuddled.

We hide our truths,
with one fell swoop
and hope it goes untouched.
For smearing would only
spread the lies.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

When there's nothing left to believe in.

Thoreau once said, “Things do not change, people change.” Personally, I think that’s bullshit.

In the town where I grew up, a depressing microcosm of what I’d soon discover to be all too similar to the world outside, everything changed. Granted it was a gradual change, a slow shift of all things we knew to be true, into something we could hardly decipher, let alone claim to understand. It was a social, generational, hypothetical landslide that taught us more about ourselves than life itself. But it was a change nonetheless.

Not to say we didn’t change. We were seeds. Some of us grew, some of us withered, and some of us even died. Regardless, we all changed. A few changed for the better, and others turned into cynics, and naysayers. Obviously I can’t speak for everyone. In retrospect, we really had no choice but to adapt. It’s kind of like how some animals change their diets based on what’s readily available in order to survive. Well, this was just our way of surviving. Our minds changed, our habits changed, our morals changed, all to adapt to a changing world. It’s almost funny now that I think of it.

Sunday, November 1, 2009


There comes a time when you realize you can only be hurt so much.
Now, there's no place to go but up.