Out on the Harbor

This water, tides away
And she’s looking over
This bridge it gives a way
For the ambulance
To come down, we’re sailing
Captain she’s going under
Some tides away
Help us we’re going under
Small crowd today

Out by the harbor
She said she’d remember
Why I came
She said she remembers
But she forgets

Out by the harbor
The carnival bears
March out by name
And like them my thoughts are tamed
And I regret
And she forgets

My shoes are so nice today
But she’s going under
My suit is pinstriped today
But she’s going under

This harbor hides away
And I watch to wonder
How this bridge, it fell today
They sent rescue over and under
Captain she’s going under
Some tides away
Help us we’re going under
Small crowd today

My shoes are so nice today
Oh we’re going under
My suit is pinstriped today
Oh we’re going under

In Chaste Conversation

I suffer from many addictions
Sins encased within glass vials

I choose to drink these self-afflictions
My curse
Among this world’s maledictions, I disburse
With a fool's grace, a conniving benediction

Into believing themselves grand
I fool the meager

More than what they’re eager to be
I became a pawn’s mercenary
In this masquerade heresy
As I beleaguered the royalty
Who cursed my name

I cursed them just the same
And my judgment amused a devious ploy

Who would be so coy
To banter in song and dance
And ridicule these weapons
That fail to question
And continue to answer entranced

I’m inebriated by sarcasm
And the lifeless lives of the sober

I still suffer from many addictions
These sins are followed closely by contradictions

Words...

I care, therefore I am weak.
I fight, therefore I am weak.
I run, therefore I am weak.
I am alive, yet not so bleak.

=)

Misc.

"I see a tulip on the grave
Of a lover who confessed:
I'm a soldier and a poet
But I'm a dancer at best."

-Daryl Palumbo

Head Automatica - At The Speed of a Yellow Bullet

Kashisms

To those who think that the ridiculous should stay ridiculous, I beseech you.

Manuscripts will be written and the words will travel through history to enlighten the few who will choose to appreciate.

A heart-felt welcome to my comrades is in order.

Mandolins play only for the solemn.

Lies and truths dance together to a song only heard in questions.

We write our music in open conversation.

Lace and velvet line your faith as it hangs from the string of your own devotion.

Let’s hurt each other.

My cardboard box waits for memories.

Benches do indeed contemplate murder.

El Encantador

El encantador sigue con su canto
Y el rey celoso tiembla de envidia
La reina teme no ser reconocida
Por el encantador que con su canto
La llena de una bella vida
La vida de la no consentida
Y queriendo darse como atrevida
Aun sin su propia cancion
Pero sin falta
El encantador sigue con su canto
Un canto silencioso y sabio
Sin pecado ni fortuna
Un velorio de esperanzas
Y las manías de un amante
Forman partes de este canto
Un mensajero sin mando
Con reliquias de un amor
Este canto que canta el encantador

She Knew Something

She knew not what she did
All clad in blue and white
She gave a cold stare
From eyes deep like knife wounds
That bleed and create fright
Hair dark like moonless nights
Not love at first sight
But the curiosity of a boy
Who until this point
Had never seen a bright sunrise mid-afternoon
Dawn’s first light in a random classroom

She knew not what she did
And thoughts of her
I could not rid from my mind
Emotions being hid for some time
And I became a lyrical pantomime
My actions vent frustration in rhyme
Like that of the innocent
Waiting to be acquitted from a crime
Accused to them, but not committed
Love and logic being pitted
Against each other: Battle Royale
No cameras permitted
My evolution will not be televised

She knew not what she did
Sitting, waiting, brooding in silence
Her visage was a tapestry
A collision between beauty and violence
Like Shakespearian ancestry
The Victorian fusion of comedy and tragedy:
A joyful travesty
And I became not relaxed but high tensed
By self inflicted maladies
Pressure builds and builds and doesn’t let go
Until I explode on this paper
And plead amnesty
As I mentally rape her
The words taper down my energy
And I’m screaming as she mentally rapes me
My pen and hand create synergy
Out of syllables and parables and similes
And hyperboles and somehow poetry
Flows out of me
To illustrate my observation
Of her femininity

She knew not what she did
Her curves did swerve
Through verbs and adverbs
That failed to describe
And objectively serve
Their purpose as I in turn
Observed her and wondered
What she was thinking of
What desire or love so gleaming
She was seeming to be dreaming of
And I craved her
Her sultry ways did not save her
I wanted to enslave her
And savor her lust
Her passion and trust
I wanted to taste her 31 flavors
She knew what she did
I was just returning the favor

Benches Are Safe Haven

I stayed waiting once
So long in fact
Someone noticed me and gave a glance
Their eyes firmly asked mine
“Why are you waiting?”
I stared blankly back
And began debating
Why it was
I was waiting?
So I sat there
You know, deliberating
The cause and effects
Of the moments just passed
That in some way or another led
To my current state of waiting
It was raining
I ran towards the nearest shelter
I never carry with me an umbrella
Yet, if I did, it would be white
With pink polka dots
Because who can forget to leave home
Without their white and pink polka dot umbrella
Which in turn I would call Isabella
Yea, Isabella the Umbrella
She would keep me safe
From the torrential rain
Keep me dry from the unforeseen
Keep me sane
Maybe fund the new world’s discovery
But she wasn’t with me today
So I ran to the nearest shelter
And I began waiting
For the rain to subside
Felt like I was playing a fucked up game
Of seek and go hide
It was really windy too
Even in shelter the raindrops mocked me
As they blew in to reach the toes of my shoes
And I thought “For fuck’s sake, I just bought these.”
They were hot too
These yellow striped Adidas in blue
Tight as fuck
Yea, but yea I was under a shelter
And I was waiting
And it was still raining
And by that point my socks were fucking wet
Now I’m going to be walking
With that squishy feeling all day

For Her

I want to tell you...
I want to tell you how I feel
How when I’m with you
My only way to be is real
That with my existence
Came the resistance for me
To find the wounds that I could not see
Until you came to nurture and heal me
And so I kneel
You cradle me in your arms
The evil inside me is what you seal
And so I grow with you
And I learn
That there are so many ways
For fire to burn
The passion inside me
Is what makes me yearn for you
All my life it seemed to me with others
I always had to take a turn
But not with you
I love you
And without you there’s emptiness
When I wake up and you’re not there
All I miss is your skin’s caress
And how the love we harness
Brings natural stress and our lives
Become, in your words, a hot mess
But I love it and I know you love it no less
Your lips, your eyes, your hips, your smile
Your sense of style
The way you love to have sex
And all the while
Our life of no regrets
Is what I love
What I want to hold and protect
I am a mirror
It is you who I want to reflect
Your passions, your ideas, your loves
The way you never reject and always accept
Anyone who wants to share their intellect
Or interject new points of view
Whether slightly askew or inept
But I digress
I need you
Like the desert needs rain, no,
Far more intense
My soul gasps for air
You are my oxygen
In this immense vacuum
Of existential nonsense
I need no defense
Because your love gives me the strength
To take a thousand blows
From all sorts of violence
And your love also shows
That this dim landscape can always glow
And the cabaret lights of this show
We dance together in
Reveal these dreams
That stream from you into me
And all I can do is dream this dream

The Righteous and Bold

I lack foundation in values and beliefs
And my morality is slightly askew
Or so I’ve been told
But would someone be so quick
To point out to me
The ones so true
So righteous and bold

In their hands, do they cradle fear and hostility?
Weapons so old, so old
Archaic and obsolete
But I cannot probe with these questions
For I am a heathen tainted by heresy
And they are the few
So righteous and bold

Is there such high demand
For faith to be cast in mold
For those who choose to stand
And not fold
Become martyrs for no one
Rather sinners as told
By the ones so true
So righteous and bold

The ones they ignore
To die in the cold
I implore
Are the wicked truly
The bastard son, the witch, and the whore?
Are they to die
And nothing more
For their faith they have sold
Or so it is said
By those who deplore them
The few, the true
The righteous and bold

Is there no savior for me?
My faith I still hold
In hands once filled with fear and hostility
Am I to be finally free?
Reclaiming my liberty
Only to die in the cold
I can only accept that that is the fate
Of the ones who remain
Indeed in blue hue, the few indeed true
The righteous, the bold.

Reaching

Blown by foreign winds,
These leaves rustle among troubled strangers.
All of them are Nameless and Unfamiliar,
Trembling because the cold is unrelenting and the warmth absent.

Crying with morning dew,
This window’s view is muddled by tears
And daylight can only shine through distorted,
However persistent, praying for us to believe in its resolve.

This landscape is dying and a message is pending.
And danger colors these words that need sending.
And danger colors these wounds that need mending.
And danger colors only in red scarlet while this town remains far from painted.

When the images surface,
Memory brings a quiet message,
Tempered in textures only felt through these fingertips
That once caressed the warmth of her ripe body,
But now shiver at the touch of cold, wet glass.

Blown by foreign winds,
These leaves rustle among troubled strangers.
All of them are Nameless and Unfamiliar,
Reaching because the cold is unrelenting and the warmth gallivant.