Sunday, March 28, 2010

Lost in Translation

Sunken blue, white collar stood in whisper. The lonely girl buried in hungry pages cry for the luxuries of youth. She stands for five and sleeps for none, carried these books like a loaded gun. She fled to the city where the west was won, laid on the floor where the east had gone. Ancient ways are for the dead, customs should be broken. But where the tide meets the shore, her pages were lost in translation.

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Shake me, wake me, hit me, fuck me. I just want to feel right now. Pain, if any at all. There's lack of motion here. I'm stagnant longing for a ripple, festering inside my own brew. Humming a tune to carry me out.

Sunday, February 7, 2010

The Old World

In our ancestral world, our heads are heavy from the burden of our youth. Our eyes fall to meet the musky earth to remind us of our place. We strain to have a voice but in the land of echoes...We can only hear ourselves.

Thursday, January 21, 2010

The Source

I put your mark on my arm to remind me of the source. The prejudice you carried spread like a swarm of locus. It consumed all that was pure and left nothing but skeletons. Your bleeding hands pulled me towards you and stained my essence. So now I were your mark like a scar to remind me that I'm not bound by hate. And that the path I choose will be from a brighter source.

Sunday, January 10, 2010

Pound for Pound

We hit pound for pound, pressed by our rage to heat up this moment. Stirred with the motions between right and wrong, neither of us will back down. We should be in his debt and in gratitude, but we are seven strong, He was sick, heavy and alone.

Saturday, January 2, 2010

Fall Low

Some days I'll breathe...and realize, It was you...that was breathing all along. You were the rain in my world of sand. When it's dark, you found light. When I'm weak, you came down. The thing is... we never tried. And with you, I'll Fall Low.

Monday, December 28, 2009

Dream to Live

When our family tree was cut down limb by limb, dreams were all we've got. We clutched down with our fingers like the roots of a tree to the soil that once nourished us. We lay there hoping to be absorb into it, make us cold like the arms of the men, woman and children that watched over us...And so we sleep, with our eyes, and mouth shut and wake to nothing but a memory...