updown (poetry)

when I thought I’d won, I’d lost
now I’ve won
and it just feels like losing
getting to look out over everything
so high
I see who I was
and who I wasn’t
get to be above the nightmares
and all I wonder
and all I wonder
isn’t if this here
this whatever
if it is worth the pain
I just ask
is this really the only place I’ve come to?
can’t I go higher

where am I
guess it depends where my head is
and my head could just be
upside down
inside out
I’ve lost the marbles
But that implies
That for some single moment
I had the marbles

Oh where
Is my hairbrush
Oh where
Is my hairbrush
No Hair
No where
No Hair
No Where
My little hair brush
sepia reality
grace tinted
it worries me
to be
just me
all are watchers
and their eyes see nothing
hollow pools of lightlessness
oh stare and watch and understand
not this opposite
to have the whole world watch
and yet to be absolutely alone
aren’t you there, over there
little dove
don’t you understand?
aren’t we the same
can’t I imagine blue eyed radiance
an aura to share and swim in and love
and be with
and to be with
and to not be alone
and to steal away your loneliness
can’t you be true
let us come together
over come every hurdle
have an entire three scene play
as we struggle to be together
and then at the end we finally meet
I catch you in my arms
and, like dust, you fall right through them
My never knowing
If you were just a figment of imagination
That fucked up brain praying for water in the desert
Making mirages
Or if at the last moment
I thought I saw no blue eyes but just darkness
(or was the darkness the figment)
and I let you drop
disappearing from you
rather than your disappearing from me

Hey there Mr. Nobody
Somebody told me you could be a somebody
I’m here to tell you you’re just a nobody
But don’t feel bad!
Or even a little sad?
Cus we’re all just Mr. Nobodys

Hold your hand straight
Hold it fucking fucking straight
Don’t waver
Don’t waver
Why are you doing this?
It doesn’t make a difference
Prove to the world that you can do something
That you can do anything
Even if it’s just for a moment holding your hand straight
But let’s be honest
We can’t even do that
Can we?

Melancholic this morning
Where is the rising sun
Three loud men
Screaming on my doorstep
Saying loud things
That I hope aren’t true
Wishing there was someone to call youuuuuu
Singing just worry
About everything
Cus I really don’t know
If it’s gonna be all right
Sorry just worry
About each and everything
Cus maybe we can’t make it
All right

I think I have a good heart
Does everyone think they have a good heart?
Is that enough?
There is definitely a room of darkness in my heart
Just one ventricle maybe
But I don’t hear so many people saying the same
I try to not be a bad person
Just like I try to not drink, or eat meat, or have sex with the wrong people, or smoke
Which is to say I do it poorly
What does it mean to be the nightmare?
It hurts
People look at you sometimes
Not all the time
But sometimes
Like you are the devil
What happens if they are right?

Where is the love
Every word tastes like ash
A toxic canal as it flows from my inner sanctum
Into my consciousness
Through my fingers
To this fucking screen
Like battery acid in my veins
Tearing away the beautiful things that could flow
And leaving this sickly residue in it’s stead
Leaving it a wasteland
Nothing beautiful can grow here
Can’t I turn this fountain off?
Peter, you make things that are pretty,
What magic that must feel
All I do is punch at my existence
My lack of belief in my existence
My lack of belief in myself
My lack of self
My lack of being
My lack
Could I write something beautiful?
When it would be a lie
Not because there is not beauty in the world
I have felt the fire of other people’s madness
As they are in love
My forge has never been lit
It is a workshop in name only
Never having made anything
Just a place to go alone and stare at the anvil
And wonder if these hands ever could have made
That could have the name beauty
That could be a magnet of love
And I stare into the void
And it doesn’t even have the deceny to stare back
Since now I know the truth
I am the void
And I stare at you
Sucking the wonder in the world from my lonely horizon plane
Sucking the beauty from the world as it falls in my orbit
I didn’t ask to be me
But this is the only me
That I get to be
Even if it’s hard to say
Everything that I pray
I just wonder if I may
Escape from this gray
Even if it’s just for today

this poem draws towards its conclusion
I’d like to leave on ascent
Something pretty, to play cello music with
And leave any reader feeling at peace
My restless heart will rob you of this
Since my honest mind can say only truth
But, perhaps that is the lie
That we decide to say what is truth
I have no truth
I have no truth for me
And I have no truth for you
Which isn’t to say we’re peddling in lies
Instead we are just in confusion
The flower of my consciousness aspires to the sky
And I tell you truthfully that I have not found sunshine
And I tell you truthfully that I have not found rain
And here I sit in darkness,
Believing that to arise through the canopy
And discover nirvana
That it is just a myth
But if this was the logic no flower would ever bloom
If we can just have the strength of will of a flower
To strive towards the sun even in the blackest night
If we could just have the sense of self worth of a flower
To know that even as a seed, even as we wilt
That when that day does
Or could
Or even inevitably
Then there is a beautiful bloom in us
Our potential only ends when we stop believing in our seed
And if the magic does come
And that seed we could have cast off as dead
It finally get’s just the littlest amount of nurture
We will finally spread our beauty
On a soft breeze
To the entire world
Leaving seeds for the next flowers
As we fly over those other seeds
The us’s we are scared to be
And might be
That never get the chance to bloom
Because they didn’t believe
That it was in them to bloom

Don’t Remember Writing This (poetry)

Some type of whispering
Waiting for an eternal something
Can’t you hear it?
There are greater things than we can understand
Can’t you hear it?
Perhaps there is more living than one can live in a life
Perhaps all we see is a single number
In an infinite series
To see just one
Makes us a part of the whole
Perhaps we are listening to the whispers
Perhaps we are also the whisperers
Perhaps we are an instrument too
The music we make
We don’t know for what
But we know we make it